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“Of course, the earl knows, and I didn’t tell him,” Branton answered with a puff of air from his mouth. “Everyone knows that you three sneak off here whenever you can. Who could miss three noisy girls leaving in the middle of the night?”
“It’s not the middle of the night,” Maira corrected him. “The sun set only a few hours ago, so stop exaggerating, Branton.”
“All right, so it isn’t,” agreed the boy. “But it is dark and cold and looks like it might even snow. The earl sent me to protect you three.” Branton sat tall atop the horse, running his hand over the hilt of his new sword.
“Protect us?” asked Maira, handing her lantern to Morag and pushing her sword into the sheath attached to her back. “You honestly think you can protect us better than I can?”
“Of course, I can. I’m a man.” Branton’s smirk in the moonlight wasn’t missed by any of the girls.
Maira reached up and, in one motion, pulled Branton off his horse and to the ground. He landed flat on his back with the air knocked from his lungs. Before he could even reach for his sword, the tip of Maira’s dagger rested under his chin. “Think again,” she told him. “You’re only a boy of five and ten years of age. That’s a far cry from a man.”
“That wasn’t funny, Maira!” Branton jumped up, pushing her away. His face became red with embarrassment. “What are you girls doing in the garden this late anyway?”
“Willow’s stealin’ Imanie’s jewelry,” Morag blurted out, never knowing when to keep her mouth shut.
“I’m not stealing anything. I’m . . . borrowing it,” said Willow, holding the ring up in the moonlight to admire it. “After all, the earl has his annual festival starting tomorrow. The men – I mean, the guests will be arriving first thing in the morning. I want to look exquisite this year so I am sure to be noticed.”
“Who could miss ye?” mumbled Morag under her breath.
“Willow, for a girl who says she never wants to marry, you sure do care a lot about making a lasting impression on every knight, duke or earl that visits Rothbury.” Maira shook her head.
“She wants them to bed her,” said Morag, handing Maira one of the lanterns.
“Nay, I don’t!” Willow truly was curious about the acts of lovemaking, but she didn’t want to admit it. Or at least not with Branton standing right there. Plus, if she admitted anything, it would be to Maira, and not to Morag. “After all, we see what happens when someone makes love. Morag, look at your sister. Fia is pregnant from coupling with Alastair. I will never end up with a stomach bigger than my breasts.”
“Oh, I almost forgot,” said Branton, holding a finger in the air. “Lord Beaufort also told me that your father will be here first thing in the morning, Willow.”
Willow’s head snapped around in surprise. “My father is coming to Rothbury?” This was the last thing she wanted to hear. The festival started tomorrow and would continue for an entire sennight with more titled men arriving each day. Willow had planned on meeting and dancing with as many men as she could during that time, receiving as many gifts from them as possible. If her father were here, he wouldn’t let her attend the festival let alone leave her chamber. “I don’t want him here,” she said defiantly.
“Why not?” asked Maira. “Is it because he won’t approve of the way you dress? Or don’t you want him seeing you flirting with all the men?”
“Mayhap, he’s comin’ to Rothbury to send ye to a convent like he threatened to do as soon as ye started noticin’ the laddies.” Morag sounded as if she were trying to hold back a laugh.
“Enough!” spat Willow. “Let’s get back to the castle. The wind is picking up, and I’m cold.” She clutched her cloak to her neck, trying to close out the late October chill.
“No’ yet. We need to pay our respects to Imanie before we leave.” Morag headed over to the gravesite.
“Nay, we don’t.” Willow no longer wanted to stay in the garden now that she had what she had come for. “You only said that because you are feeling guilty again for being the one to kill her, aren’t you, Morag?”
“I didna kill her.” Morag looked up with tears in her eyes. Her hand shot up and covered the heart brooch she wore that symbolized she was one of the Followers of the Secret Heart. She wasn’t chosen by the late queen and therefore had no right to be a member. It was Imanie who gave her the brooch right off her own bodice and let her join the order. However, the old woman had mentioned that the last time she brought someone into the group, there was a death. If she brought anyone into the secret group that was not invited by the queen, this could happen again. It did. Imanie gave Morag the brooch, and then she died.
“Let’s stop at the grave and quickly pay our respects,” suggested Maira. “After all, Imanie was our mentor. We owe her that.”
“If Fia were here, she’d make us all get down on our knees and say a prayer for Imanie,” Morag announced.
“I’m not kneeling on the ground in this gown, and neither am I staying out in the cold any longer than I have to,” retorted Willow. “If we’re going to pay our respects then let’s do it and be on our way.”
The three girls stood with Branton, holding out their lanterns and looking down at the grave of Imanie. Willow’s eyes and mouth dropped open when she thought she saw a shadow pass over the grave. She spun around to look behind her, but there was no one there.
“That’s enough. Let’s go,” she said, hurrying for her horse, anxious to leave. There was a presence here, and she wasn’t sure if it was an intruder or perhaps a ghost. Or, mayhap, it was only her imagination. Either way, it didn’t matter. All she wanted was to get back to the castle because she felt as if someone were watching them.
