He quirked his mouth as he consideredher question. “Ye must first get the laird te like ye. Tell Neil te take yedirectly te the MacLeod te get his consent for ye te live there. I kinnae vouchfor the man myself as I’ve never met him, but Neil says he’s verra honorable,fierce in battle, patient, and reasonable.” Angus cocked his head as if inthought. “Now that I think about it, I’m sure the MacLeod can get ye a husband,and then the clan will more readily accept ye. Aye.” He nodded. “Get in the laird’sgood graces as soon as ye meet him and ask him te find ye a husband.” A scowltwisted his lips. “Preferably one who will accept yer acting like a mansometimes.”
She frowned at him. “Youarethe one who taught me how to ride bareback, wield a dagger, and shoot an arrowtrue.”
“Aye.” He nodded. “I did. But whenI started teaching ye, I thought yer mama would be around te add her woman’stouch. I did nae ken at the time that she’d pass when ye’d only seen eightsummers in yer life.”
“You’re lying again,” Marion said.“You continued those lessons long after Mama’s death. You weren’t a bit worriedhow I’d turn out.”
“I sure was!” he objected, even asa guilty look crossed his face. “But what could I do? Ye insisted on huntingfor the widows so they’d have food in the winter, and ye insisted on going outin the dark te help injured knights when I could nae go with ye. I had te teachye te hunt and defend yerself. Plus, you were a sad, lonely thing, and I couldnae verra well overlook ye when ye came te the stables and asked me te teach yethings.”
“Oh, you could have,” she replied.“Father overlooked me all the time, but your heart is too big to treat someonelike that.” She patted him on the chest. “I think you taught me the best thingsin the world, and it seems to me any man would want his woman to be able todefend herself.”
“Shows how much ye ken about men,”Angus muttered with a shake of his head. “Men like te think a woman needsthem.”
“I dunnae need a man,” she said inher best Scottish accent.
He threw up his hands. “Ye do. Ye’rejust afeared.”
The fear was true enough. Part ofher longed for love, to feel as if she belonged to a family. For so long she’dwanted those things from her father, but she had never gotten them, no matterwhat she did. It was difficult to believe it would be any different in thefuture. She’d rather not be disappointed.
Angus tilted his head, looking ather uncertainly. “Ye want a wee bairn some day, dunnae ye?”
“Well, yes,” she admitted andpeered down at the ground, feeling foolish.
“Then ye need a man,” he crowed.
She drew her gaze up to his. “Notjust any man. I want a man who will truly love me.”
He waved a hand dismissively.Marriages of convenience were a part of life, she knew, but she would not marryunless she was in love and her potential husband loved her in return. She wouldsupport herself if she needed to.
“The other big problem with ahusband for ye,” he continued, purposely avoiding, she suspected, her mentionof the wordlove, “as I see it, is yer tender heart.”
“What’s wrong with a tender heart?”She raised her brow in question.
“’Tis more likely te get broken,aye?” His response was matter-of-fact.
“Nay. ’Tis more likely to havecompassion,” she replied with a grin.
“We’re both right,” he announced. “Yermama had a tender heart like ye. ’Tis why yer father’s black heart hurt her so.I dunnae care te watch the light dim in ye as it did yer mother.”
“I don’t wish for that fate,either,” shereplied, trying hard not tothink about how sad and distant her mother had often seemed. “Which is why I willonly marry for love. And why I need to get out of England.”
“I ken that, lass, truly I do, butye kinnae go through life alone.”
“I don’t wish to,” she defended.“But if I have to, I have you, so I’ll not be alone.” With a shudder, her heartdenied the possibility that she may never find love, but she squared hershoulders.
“’Tis nae the same as a husband,”he said. “I’m old. Ye need a younger man who has the power te defend ye. And ifSir Frosty Pants ever comes after ye, you’re going te need a strong man te goagainst him.”
Marion snorted to cover the worrythat was creeping in.
Angus moved his mouth to speak, buthis reply was drowned by the sound of the supper horn blowing. “God’s bones!”Angus muttered when the sound died. “I’ve flapped my jaw too long. Ye must gonow. I’ll head te the stables and start the fire as we intended. It’ll drawAndrew and Peter away if they are watching ye too closely.”
Marion looked over her shoulder atthe knights, her stomach turning. She had known the plan since the day they hadformed it, but now the reality of it scared her into a cold sweat. She turnedback to Angus and gripped her dagger hard. “I’m afraid.”
Determination filled hisexpression, as if his will for her to stay out of harm would make it so. “Yewill stay safe,” he commanded. “Make yer way through the path in the woods thatI showed ye, straight te Newcastle. I left ye a bag of coins under the firsttree ye come te, the one with the rope tied te it. Neil will be waiting for yeby Pilgrim Gate on Pilgrim Street. The two of ye will depart from there.”
She worried her lip but nodded allthe same.
“Neil has become friends with afriar who can get the two of ye out,” Angus went on. “Dunnae talk te anyone,especially any men. Ye should go unnoticed, as ye’ve never been there and won’tlikely see anyone ye’ve ever come in contact with here.”
