Surrender to the Highlander(14)

“I’d like to bathe and see to it that Ronson and Laddie do as well,” she admitted as she watched him quickly roll up the furs and secure them to the side of the horse in a rope sling. He then quickly mounted.

“Perfect,” Niels pronounced and Edith gasped as he suddenly leaned down, caught her under the arms and lifted her onto his mount before him.

“Why is that perfect?” Edith asked as she settled sideways in his lap.

“Because we are all going to the loch for a bath,” he announced, and then turned and held a hand out to Ronson. “Take me hand, lad.”

Ronson hesitated, but then held his hand up and Niels swung him up and around behind his back on the horse. “There’s no’ a lot o’ room with all three o’ us on here. Wrap yer arms around me, lad, so ye do no’ slide off the horse’s arse.”

“Ai, yi, yi,” Edith breathed. She would never get Ronson to stop swearing as long as Niels kept using such words in front of the boy. His grandmother would surely blame her for this.

“That’s right, lad. Hold on tight,” Niels instructed, reaching around Edith to grab the reins.

“Mayhap ye should put him in me lap,” Edith suggested, shifting to try to look around him at the boy.

“He’ll be fine,” Niels said soothingly. “’Tis no’ far.”

Edith nodded, but she also slid her hands around his waist to clasp Ronson’s arms and make sure he stayed in place. For some reason that made Niels chuckle. At least that’s what she thought he was doing. She felt his stomach move and his breath brush the top of her head, though there was no sound behind the laugh.

“What is so funny?” she asked, lifting her head to peer up at him.

“Nothing.” Niels smiled faintly and shrugged. “I was just thinking ye will make a fine mother.”

Edith smiled sadly. “I’d like to think ye’re right, but I fear I’ll ne’er get the chance to find out.”

When Niels frowned at her words, Edith lowered her head and rested it against his chest.

“Ronson, make sure Laddie follows us,” Niels instructed, urging his horse to move forward.

As Ronson called out to the dog, Edith closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind of the worrisome issue of her future. There was enough on her plate at the moment without thinking about that. They still had to figure out who had killed her father and brothers and tried to kill her. She suspected if Brodie found out they’d been poisoned, he’d find some excuse or other to not return to the keep until the culprit was found. Which meant she had to stay and run the castle in his absence.

Edith couldn’t in good conscience leave Tormod to run things alone. He was a fine first, and knew what he was about, but he was getting on in years, and she knew it had been a burden on him to run both the soldiers and the household servants while she was ill. Unfortunately, Brodie was just selfish enough to spend all of his time at court, sending home only for coin if the culprit was never found. He’d drain Drummond of all of its wealth, and leave his people miserable and starving without a second thought. Which left her in a bit of a precarious position. She needed to resolve the matter of who was behind the poisoning so that it was safe enough that Brodie wouldn’t have an excuse not to return. But she also needed to be gone before he returned if she wanted to avoid being sent to the Abbey to live out the rest of her days.

Today, in truth, had been a bit of an indulgence. Changing the rush mats in the castle had been a way to briefly escape the keep and delay dealing with the real problem. Edith had felt she deserved the time out after being ill for so long. But tonight she would have to sit down with Rory, Niels and Tormod and try to come up with a plan to sort out the matter. She’d also pack a bag with what she would need for her visit with Saidh, so that she could leave at a moment’s notice should the matter be resolved quickly.

That was the other reason she’d put off tackling the matter right away. She’d sent a letter with Geordie and Alick for Saidh, outlining her problem and her hopes of visiting with Saidh and the other two women who made up her friends to try to find a way to avoid life as a nun. She wouldn’t just show up on the woman’s door, begging admittance.

But Geordie and Alick needed time to ride to MacDonnell and back with Saidh’s answer. If they weren’t back before the issue was resolved, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. Perhaps trade in her fine dresses for the plain garb of a servant and go in search of a position in another castle under another name. Surely she’d have a better chance at happiness as a housemaid or lady’s maid than as a nun?

Edith grimaced at the thought. She wasn’t a fool and knew the dangers inherent in such an undertaking, but she had few options available to her.

“Here we are.”

Edith lifted her head and glanced around as Niels drew his mount to a halt. They’d entered a small clearing by the loch that she knew well. It was on the edge of the loch, and where she often came with Laddie when she wished to swim in private. Most of the castle used a larger stretch farther down the shore and closer to the castle, but here the land curved sharply inward and then back out, creating a tiny cove that offered privacy.

“Down ye go, Ronson,” Niels said, and Edith released the hold she’d kept on the boy’s arms as Niels reached back to grab him by the back of his shirt and tartan and swing him down to the ground. Laddie was immediately there to greet the boy, licking his face excitedly.

Edith sat upright then, retrieving her arms from around Niels and shifting her bottom so that she slid forward and began to slide off the mount. The moment that happened, she twisted her upper body and caught at his leg to ease her drop. As her bottom cleared the horse, it followed in the turn and she landed on the ground facing the horse and clasping Niels’s leg. Edith was rather proud of herself for disembarking on her own without the need to be lifted down like a child . . . until she noted Niels’s odd stillness and the unreadable expression on his face.

Realizing she was still clasping his leg, she released it at once and stepped back, then turned and moved around the horse to where Ronson and Laddie were as Niels started to disembark. Laddie immediately moved toward her and Edith petted him, using the action to keep him from jumping up on her.

“Good boy,” she murmured. Running her hands along the dog’s side, she glanced back to see what Niels was doing. He’d removed the rolled-up furs from the sling he’d made to hang from his saddle, as well as the sack that had held the cherry pastries and apples and a much larger sack too, and was now moving to the center of the clearing with Ronson trailing him.

“What can I do to help?” Edith asked, following now as well.

“Ye can take this and go bathe in the loch while Ronson and I set up a little picnic,” he answered and dug around in his bag before producing a small square of Aleppo soap. Handing it to her he added, “I was hoping to find ye some with lavender oils in it or such, but this smells nice too.”

Edith smiled faintly. “Ye’ll find no lavender at Drummond.”

Niels’s eyebrows rose. “I thought women liked lavender?”

“Most do,” she admitted with a smile. “And I think ’tis fine, but it was never allowed in the keep at Drummond.”

“Why?”

“Father refused to have it,” she said simply.

“Did it give him the sneezes or something?” Niels asked with amusement.

“Nay.” Edith shook her head. “He had an aversion to it. I remember a visitor coming who smelled o’ it once when I was a child and me da got all quiet and glum. When I asked Mother why, she said that lavender reminded him o’ his mother and his sisters Ealasaid and Glynis and made him sad and gloomy. They all three favored the scent,” she said, and explained, “They died when he was young. From the sweating sickness I think mother said. All three died quickly and ’twas a shock to him.” Realizing she was babbling nervously, Edith shut her mouth and took the precious hard bar of laurel soap he held out, but then just stood there uncertainly. She had brought Ronson down to swim on occasion and had no problem stripping down to her shift in front of him, but Niels was not a five-year-old boy.

“Ronson’ll make sure I do no’ look,” he assured her gently, and then smiled at the boy and said, “Will ye no’ lad?”

“Aye,” Ronson said at once, and then frowned and asked, “But why can ye no’ watch Lady Edith swim? I swim with her all the time.”

“Lucky you,” Niels said under his breath, but didn’t explain. Instead, he assured Edith, “I’ll be right here setting up. And when I finish I’ll sit with me back to the water. Once ye’re done ye can dry off and dress.” He produced a clean, dry folded strip of linen and a fresh gown from the larger sack he’d brought and held them out to her. Once she’d accepted the offerings, he added, “And then ye can sit and have some lunch while Ronson and I bathe Laddie and ourselves.”

Edith stared down at the dress he’d pulled from the sack. It was one of hers, and he’d rolled it to help keep it from wrinkling, but of course it hadn’t completely prevented them. “Where did ye—?”