“I hope not.” Now she seized both his forearms. “I want ye to promise me ye will take nay chances. If—when—ye face off wi’ Evan, I mean. I ken—” To her dismay, her voice threatened to fail her. “I ken ye feel ye are the only one who can face off against him.”
“So I am, Annista. There is nay one else. If no’ me, then who? The staff are loyal beyond measure, aye, but ’tis my place to defend them, no’ otherwise. And wi’ Father down—”
“Aye. Only promise me—promise me—ye will be safe.” Against all odds.
“Annista, wife—” His voice came low and fierce. “I do no’ ken that is a promise I can make.”
“Then I will mak’ it for ye! And seal it thus.” She kissed him, a hard, flaming, pledging kiss, it was. Perhaps that kiss would tell him what she could not say—that she loved him and, so loving, feared for him.
“All right, all right,” he murmured when the kiss ended, and pulled her into his arms close against his heart. So perhaps…perhaps he did understand.
She could not lose him. There would be naught left of her, if she did.
“Come,” she bade him and led him by the hand to find the physician.
****
An ugly, painful session was that in the solar where Master Robertson waited. The physician clucked his tongue over the wound, but Annista at least felt a mite better when it had been wrapped in clean bandaging, and Master Robertson went off to check on the earl.
There in the solar, Annista kissed Alan again. “Remember your promise.”
He lifted a brow. “The one ye made for me.”
“On your behalf. Where are ye bound now?”
“I will tak’ patrol wi’ the men. I know some o’ the places Evan may return to, here on the estate. Not all.” He made a face.
“Let me come wi’ ye.” She had still the knife in her pocket and her promise to Mother to uphold.
“Nay. Ye stay wi’ Bonnie and keep watch wi’ her and the other women.”
“I belong at your side.”
“Aye.” He gazed into her eyes. “I believe ye do. Annista—it may have been a strange and capricious fate that brought ye into my life, but let me say—I am glad o’ it.”
“As am I.” Dared she tell him how glad?
“And I will ha’ a promise fro’ ye as well.” He whispered it to her lips. “Stay safe for me.”
Aye, well, and she saw just how hard it was then to make such a promise. She wanted to reassure him, but all the love tangled up with protectiveness in her heart made it near impossible.
“Promise,” she whispered it.
“Fine and good. Stay near yer woman. Look after one another.”
“So I will.”
He went from her then, went from her out into the night. And she felt it, a stunning sort of loss, even as she joined Bonnie, who waited out on the gallery.
The little maid gave her a searching look, and Annista wondered how much she’d overheard through the open door of the solar. Enough, mayhap.
“Mistress? Will we be all right?”
Annista groped for the handle of the knife in her pocket. “Aye.”
“Do ye think he will get into the house? I do no’ fancy waiting in your chamber.”
“Nay. Let us go to the kitchens and see can we mak’ oursel’s useful, and be wi’ the other women.”
