Page 26 of Highlander’s Quest of Desire

Chapter Ten

The night was much colder than the ones that had passed before. A thin mist had risen from Loch Lomond and encased everything within its damp shroud. Bruce was grateful for Elspeth's company. They were back in the copse of trees where they had hidden the horses. Any danger from the soldiers had passed. They would have made themselves known if they had come by, but Bruce had found no tracks, and their things hadn't been disturbed.

The fire crackled as juices from the roasting meat splattered on the flames. Elspeth sliced up some bread and apples while she whispered sweet nothings to Willow, her horse.

Bruce was in awe of her. She had proved instrumental in finding the map. Before her, he had been roaming about Inchmurrin like a lost man, directionless. Even at the ruins, he had given up when the wall hadn't given up any clue. Not Elspeth. She had looked at other options, steadily pushing forward even if there was no need for her to do so, and she had done the same for him. He had been rude, obnoxious, and cold toward her, but she had steadily worked on his wound and his heart.

Elspeth must have felt his eyes on her because she looked up suddenly. Bruce panicked and looked away. Clearing his throat, he squinted down at the map and accompanying papers, pretending that was what had his complete attention.

Which is as it should be. The Bishop had entrusted him with the responsibility of finding the Honors and uniting Scotland under its rightful king. He couldn't waste precious time staring at Elspeth Buchan.

The map was clear. Their destination was on River Carron near Falkirk. But the pages were a different matter. They were illustrations of a circular stone building. An entire page was dedicated to the floor of the building with various lines and numbers. Bruce couldn't make head or tails of the numbers.

"Ye should eat," Elspeth said. She took a piece of bread and sliced off some of the meat from the spit. Handing him the food, she cut some off for herself and settled down beside him. "Are ye closer to finding yer heirlooms?"

"Hmm," Bruce muttered noncommittally. He placed the map and papers in his cloth bag and took a bite of his food. It was delicious. The meat was tender, flavored with rosemary. A small groan of pleasure escaped his mouth.

Elspeth giggled. Bruce shot her a warning look. She disguised her laugh with a discreet cough. "Would ye like to hear my story now?" she asked.

Bruce had forgotten all about her end of the promise. It had completely slipped his mind. Yet, Elspeth had remembered. She hadn't used his excitement at the discovery of the map as an excuse to shy away from what was owed.

"Aye," he said. "If ye feel comfortable in sharing it with me."

"Ye shared yer secret with me," she shrugged. "’Tis only fair."

Taking another bite from her food, she licked the grease from her lips and then straightened her back. Bruce watched the change in her body language, the passing shadows on her face, and the hint of pain in her eyes. In that brief moment, Bruce considered taking his bet back. But then Elspeth breathed slowly through her mouth and began.

"Do ye remember Domnhall's first wife?" she asked.

Bruce recalled a small scandal involving Domnhall Buchan's first wife. She had run away, sending a look-alike in her place. Eventually, she had returned only to pass away soon after.

"Aye," he said. "I recall her."

"They were married when I was but eleven," she said. "My parents passed away soon after. I suppose she disliked having to care for a child not her own. She wasn't happy, you see." Elspeth looked at her food, deep in thought. "And because she wasn’t happy, I had no right to be. She kept me locked in my room most of the time. Honestly, I preferred that to the tongue-lashings I got when I was found anywhere else in the castle. I took..." she laughed, a sad little sound. "I took to hiding behind tapestries. As a matter of fact. the only reason I'm here is that I was hiding behind a tapestry in the main hall when Leo came to request men for your rescue."

There was a pause. Bruce felt a keen need to fill it with some words of condolence, but Elspeth was not yet finished with her tale. He could see it in her tense shoulders and the tightness of her jaw.

"There were petty ways in which she liked to demonstrate her superiority over me. Her clothes would be made from fine silks while mine were made from linen. She took great pleasure in parading me at parties beside her, her hair done up, jewels on her throat, while I was dressed as plainly as possible, my hair hidden underneath a wimple. I believe her heart desired to see me off to a nunnery as soon as she convinced Domnhall of my devotion to the church."

With shaking fingers, she picked at the bread, throwing crumbs into the fire. "She treated me the same with the food. I was given nursery food even though I was a child nae more. The portions were so small I was often hungry and begged my maid to bring me some more, but they always refused. They were afraid of her wroth as well."

"And what of yer brother," Bruce growled. "Was he afraid of his tyrant wife to stand back and have ye treated this way?"

Elspeth looked up, her eyes wide with surprise. She looked at Bruce as if she was seeing him for the first time. "Domnhall means well, but he is nae one for confrontation. Our father believed in diplomacy which was why he was so keen to ally with clan Labert and Grant. Even their marriage was a form of diplomacy. We didnae want constant fighting at the edge of our lands."

"Adamina, though, she was as different from Domnhall as night and day. She was made for conflict. She was always looking for a fight. Quick to take offense, and even quicker to answer with spite; nae one in the castle wanted to get on her bad side. So, if yer going to hold my brother responsible ye'll have to hold everyone in my household accountable. Nae single one of them did anything to stop her."

"That doesnae clear Domnhall of his negligence," Bruce insisted.

"Nae," Elspeth smiled. "But ye did naught either. At the spring festivals, when ye all saw me in my plain clothes and my misery, nae one stepped in to inquire if I was taken care of. Only Laird Labert intervened. He sat me beside him and made sure I had my fill of food and honey. As far as Domnhall is concerned, he has since tried to make up for it."

Bruce rankled at the accusation of being dismissive of her. But it was true. He couldn't deny it. He had ignored her at the spring festivals, taking her quiet forbearance and timid turn of character as a natural response to losing her parents. She was right to place the blame at his feet. "So, ye've forgiven him?"

The smile faded and her face was so serious and puzzled that Bruce wanted to clasp her cheeks within his palms and kiss the hurt away. He couldn't bear to see her so forlorn. Taking her hand instead, he brushed her knuckles with his thumb.

"I'm sorry, Elspeth," he said. "Sincerely, I am. It was wrong of me to see ye so unhappy and not intervene."

Elspeth smiled up at him. "There wasnae much ye could do. Adamina made sure of it. There's naught to forgive."