Page 67 of Ella’s Desire

people like her—who set tongues wagging, who provided salacious gossip to those salivating for more. She was the kind of woman who would fracture the doldrums of those many interminable days of feasts and troubadours.

The kind of wife most men would not want, except Bronson could not imagine being with anyone else.

He made his way to his own large destrier. The beast looked the part with crisp red and white livery, the gleaming plate strapped to his large, flat brow. Except getting onto the back of the large animal was not as smoothly done in the weighty armor, certainly not as easy as Ella had made it appear.

Lark and Leila, he reminded himself. He was doing this for them. To find them and bring them home safe.

With great determination and difficulty, but hopefully less floundering than it felt like, he managed to get himself onto the horse with the aid of a stool. No sooner had he climbed successfully atop his steed than the search officially began. He edged his horse closer to Ella, hopeful of getting her far enough away from the others to finally have a true talk to explain his father, and Lark and Brigid. The thought of Lark pinched at his chest.

He bided his time, focusing on scouring the surrounding area for any reivers they could find. It was a wild hope that an Armstrong might linger about, but it was the best outcome, if such a thing were possible.

He caught sight of Ella alone, edging toward the outskirts of the search party, and pointed his horse in her direction. Where did she plan to go?

Wherever it was, it wouldn’t be without him.

23

Ella bristled at being with the group of soldiers. There was no stealth to a band of men, especially when the lot of them wore chainmail and plate. No doubt the Armstrongs would hear them coming and have ample time to flee.

Not that any of it mattered. The Armstrongs would be fools to stay on the English side of the border, and if the band of English guards went traipsing into Scotland, it would likely start a war.

Nay, they were relegated to English soil. And her father knew that.

One lone woman, however, could easily pass over the Scottish border. The Armstrongs resided in the debatable lands. The area was dangerous, but she knew well how to take care of herself.

Overhead, the clouds had begun to darken, and the air took on wet chill that clung to her skin and sank into her bones. A storm would be upon them soon and would allow an ideal opportunity to slip away.

Ella edged further to the outskirts of the group. No one seemed to notice the gradual way she’d eased away from them.

No one except one particular man in a set of armor so new, it sparkled even against the overcast sky. Bronson rode toward her, his face solemn with determination. There would be no getting away from him.

Ella reigned in her patience as he approached.

“I need to speak with you,” he said.

She would have no choice but to listen. If nothing else, to bide her time while she waited for those who had noticed him crossing through the group to lose interest in them.

A low growl of thunder came from overhead. He squinted up toward the sky before returning his attention to her. “It isn’t as you think with Brigid and Lark.”

Ella shifted in her saddle. “This is not a discussion we need to have now.”

“I disagree.” Bronson edged his mount closer to Kipper. “You need to know I am not the man you think I am.”

Lightning forked through the darkening clouds.

“I don’t know who you are.” She remained back when the rest of the guards pushed onward. “Only the man you were pretending to be. But I do see how your stepmother has lived, as well as dear Lark.” Her voice caught on Lark’s name.

It was too painful to consider Lark and Leila in their situation. To imagine them frightened. Possibly hurt.

Nay, she could not think on it.

“I’m not my father.” Bronson’s jaw set beneath his new helm. “That much I can tell you. It was not me who did not see them cared for. I did not know that they lived without, while my father and I spent lavishly at court. Nor did I know all that was bought was on credit.”

The men had not noticed her hanging back. Yet. They would, though. She need only hide in the nearby patch forest for a while.

A memory nipped at the back of her mind, when Bronson had said he did not want to be a husband like his father had been. She’d wondered about the statement at the time.

Even now curious questions rolled about in her mind. But questions could come later. Once Leila and Lark were safe. When there would be time for such luxurious things as apologies and conversation.