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‘You do ask a lot of questions, lassie,’ Brice said. ‘If you must know, I bought it - a day ago.
‘You had a plan all along for us?’
‘I had a plan – yes. Not all along,though.’
‘I have to tell you something,’ Marion said.
‘If it is about your wedding night with Robert, spare me the details.’
‘There are no details, Brice. None at all. The woman you are carrying away on your horse is every bit as untouched as the day she stepped out of a carriage and fell in love with you.’
Marion felt Brice’s body stiffen behind her.
‘I do not lie, Brice,’ Marion said, ‘Believe me.’
Brice said nothing. ‘Robert is my brother,’ he said eventually, ‘And I will not speak against him.’
‘Yet you steal me from him.’
‘I know he does not love you,’ Brice said.
‘How came you to that conclusion?’ Marion asked.
‘I know my brother,’ Brice replied.
‘And yet you did nothing to prevent the marriage?’
‘I did not know how at the time. But when a man is desperate, he is also driven.’
They heard the sound of horses in pursuit and Brice spurred his horse on, leaving the path and heading away to the left to a wooded expanse. The mist was still thick about them.
‘They are coming after us,’ Marion said, alarmed.
‘Robert does not know these moors like I do, so do not be afraid.’
‘How far is the cottage that you speak of?’
‘We will be there soon, don’t you fret Marion.’
‘I cannot lie – I am afraid. If Robert were to find us now, who knows what force he would use on us?’
‘He does not know that it is I who has kidnapped you, so in that respect we have an advantage over him.’
‘Your family will come looking for you,’ Marion said, ‘Won’t they?’ She swiveled around in the saddle to look into his eyes as he rode. ‘Will you return to Bothwell Castle – of which you are to be laird one day? Or will you and I be hiding in a remote woodcutter’s cottage until we are discovered?’
‘I cannot answer all those questions just now,’ Brice said, ‘but I will do so as soon as I can.’ He drove his horse faster, though the sound of the pursuing horses’ hooves had long since fallen away and the only sound was that of the rain whipping the leaves in the canopy above them.
As the rain soaked through her clothes, Marion began to shiver and Brice drew her closer against him. ‘It won’t be long now before you are seated in front of a nice warm fire with something hot to drink.’
‘Will the woodcutter and his family be there to greet us?’ Marion asked, and Brice couldn’t prevent the smile that tugged at his lips.
‘I mentioned it was a woodcutter’s cottage. I didn’t actually say that the woodcutter would be there. I paid him a good sum for it and he was delighted enough to move on to another dwelling that he has further up the path.’
‘So we will be alone, then?’ Marion asked.
‘Not entirely,’ Brice replied, ‘and you need have no fear that I would behave in an ungentlemanly manner or that I would seek to outrage your modesty.’
Marion said nothing. The cold rain and the recent events had numbed her senses and given her a feeling that she was drifting through a very strange and disjointed dream. Her eyelids were drooping with fatigue when they broke through the curtain of mist and saw their destination before them.
‘A rustic cottage!’ Marion exclaimed weakly. ‘How very charming!’
Brice leaped from the horse and lifted Marion off, standing there with his arms about her as he looked into her face. ‘I’m sorry I had to do this to you.’
‘You rescued me. How could you be sorry?’ Marion said as he led her into the cottage.
There was a young woman inside who opened the door to them and bowed to Marion.
‘This is Lainie. She is the wife of one of the men who rode with me to rescue you,’ Brice said, leading Marion inside. It was a homely cottage with roughly crafted wooden chairs overlaid with sheepskin and woollen coverings. A rickety table stood to one side with chairs around it, and a fire blazed in the hearth. Marion slipped off her sodden cloak and held her hands over the flames, rubbing her palms together and blowing on them as she had seen peasants do.
