should be praying for the patience of Job.”
“Sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Both of his eyes flew open, their suspicious gleam reignited. “You’re not a heretic, are you? We burn heretics, you know.”
“Oh, no,” she said hastily, inching away from the fire. “I prefer to think of myself as sort of an Emersonian transcendentalist.”
He didn’t seem to know what to make of that so he simply rose to tether his grazing horse to a nearby tree.
“Does he have a name?” Tabitha asked, watching Colin stroke the stallion’s velvety nose, his rough hands gentled by affection.
“Nay, my lady. Chargers die by the thousands in battle and ’tis a wee bit harder to bid farewell to a creature with a name. Most mothers don’t even name their bairns until they’re of an age where they’re likely to survive.”
Listening to the wind sigh through the creaking boughs, Tabitha was chilled anew by the fragility of life in this era. Colin’s profile was pensive and she wondered if he was thinking of the infant sister he’d never known. Would the child be remembered by name or simply forgotten as if she’d never existed? Her own sense of urgency mounted. She had to find a way home. If she didn’t, she might never learn if her own parents were dead or alive.
An owl hooted overhead, startling her anew. “Are you sure we’re safe here? How do you know Brisbane’s men won’t find us?”
Colin squatted to throw another handful of sticks on the fire. “We’ve crossed the border into Scotland, lass.” He flashed her a less than pious grin that made her heart do an odd little flip. “Roger’s men couldn’t find their arses with a map in these hills.”
Tabitha nibbled on her bottom lip to hide a smile. Sir Colin certainly wasn’t a man to mince words. “When Iasked Brisbane why the two of you hated each other, he told me I should ask his sister.”
Colin’s grin faded. Although his eyes reflected the leaping flames, their utter absence of expression chilled her. “ ’Twould be an amazing feat considering Regan’s been dead for nigh on seven years.”
Tabitha frowned. “How did she die?”
“I killed her.”
Tabitha weaved imperceptibly beneath the blow, then waited for him to elaborate. Waited for him to explain how his horse had accidentally trampled the poor girl while she was picking wildflowers in a meadow. Or how she’d tumbled out a tower window while waving good-bye to him.
Colin just sat there, letting her twist in the wind.
“Well,
how
did you kill her? Did you push her off a cliff? Chop her into pieces with your sword? Poison her with hemlock? If we’re going to be spending the night out here in the middle of nowhere, I’d really like to know your preferred method of murder.”
The dangerous glint in Colin’s eyes warned her that he wasn’t oblivious to her sarcasm. But when he spoke, his voice was as dispassionate as if he were recounting a tragedy that had happened long ago to another man. “Roger, Regan, and I were childhood friends. I was young and foolish. Regan was sweet and willing. When we were both seventeen, I got her with child. She begged me to marry her, but I’d been promised to another since I was a lad. Breaking the betrothal contract would mean war for my father. I hadn’t the courage to defy his wishes until ’twas too late. When I finally went to the cottage where we trysted to tell Regan I would make her my wife, I found her hanging from the rafters, my unborn child dead in her womb.” He shrugged. “ ’Tis simple enough. Regan loved me. I killed her.”
“She killed herself,” Tabitha said softly, refusing to yield before his fierce gaze. “It’s not fair for her brother to blame you for her death and it’s not fair for you to blame yourself.”
His shield slipped for an elusive instant, giving her a glimpse of old wounds and bittersweet regrets. “ ’Tis unfortunate, my lady, that absolution isn’t yours to
“Sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Both of his eyes flew open, their suspicious gleam reignited. “You’re not a heretic, are you? We burn heretics, you know.”
“Oh, no,” she said hastily, inching away from the fire. “I prefer to think of myself as sort of an Emersonian transcendentalist.”
He didn’t seem to know what to make of that so he simply rose to tether his grazing horse to a nearby tree.
“Does he have a name?” Tabitha asked, watching Colin stroke the stallion’s velvety nose, his rough hands gentled by affection.
“Nay, my lady. Chargers die by the thousands in battle and ’tis a wee bit harder to bid farewell to a creature with a name. Most mothers don’t even name their bairns until they’re of an age where they’re likely to survive.”
Listening to the wind sigh through the creaking boughs, Tabitha was chilled anew by the fragility of life in this era. Colin’s profile was pensive and she wondered if he was thinking of the infant sister he’d never known. Would the child be remembered by name or simply forgotten as if she’d never existed? Her own sense of urgency mounted. She had to find a way home. If she didn’t, she might never learn if her own parents were dead or alive.
An owl hooted overhead, startling her anew. “Are you sure we’re safe here? How do you know Brisbane’s men won’t find us?”
Colin squatted to throw another handful of sticks on the fire. “We’ve crossed the border into Scotland, lass.” He flashed her a less than pious grin that made her heart do an odd little flip. “Roger’s men couldn’t find their arses with a map in these hills.”
Tabitha nibbled on her bottom lip to hide a smile. Sir Colin certainly wasn’t a man to mince words. “When Iasked Brisbane why the two of you hated each other, he told me I should ask his sister.”
Colin’s grin faded. Although his eyes reflected the leaping flames, their utter absence of expression chilled her. “ ’Twould be an amazing feat considering Regan’s been dead for nigh on seven years.”
Tabitha frowned. “How did she die?”
“I killed her.”
Tabitha weaved imperceptibly beneath the blow, then waited for him to elaborate. Waited for him to explain how his horse had accidentally trampled the poor girl while she was picking wildflowers in a meadow. Or how she’d tumbled out a tower window while waving good-bye to him.
Colin just sat there, letting her twist in the wind.
“Well,
how
did you kill her? Did you push her off a cliff? Chop her into pieces with your sword? Poison her with hemlock? If we’re going to be spending the night out here in the middle of nowhere, I’d really like to know your preferred method of murder.”
The dangerous glint in Colin’s eyes warned her that he wasn’t oblivious to her sarcasm. But when he spoke, his voice was as dispassionate as if he were recounting a tragedy that had happened long ago to another man. “Roger, Regan, and I were childhood friends. I was young and foolish. Regan was sweet and willing. When we were both seventeen, I got her with child. She begged me to marry her, but I’d been promised to another since I was a lad. Breaking the betrothal contract would mean war for my father. I hadn’t the courage to defy his wishes until ’twas too late. When I finally went to the cottage where we trysted to tell Regan I would make her my wife, I found her hanging from the rafters, my unborn child dead in her womb.” He shrugged. “ ’Tis simple enough. Regan loved me. I killed her.”
“She killed herself,” Tabitha said softly, refusing to yield before his fierce gaze. “It’s not fair for her brother to blame you for her death and it’s not fair for you to blame yourself.”
His shield slipped for an elusive instant, giving her a glimpse of old wounds and bittersweet regrets. “ ’Tis unfortunate, my lady, that absolution isn’t yours to
Similar Books
