“Nay, that isnae what she needs to feel right now.” He shook his head. “She needs to feel appreciated for something other than her appearance and what she can provide a man in coin. Not feel more insecure because she came to the wrong conclusion about her friend and future husband.”
“Och,” Ada whispered, eyeing him with approval before she stood. “Ye’ll do just fine, countryman. Just fine.” This had been a test, and he’d passed. She sauntered back up the path, throwing over her shoulder, “When he gets back, best tell yer Sassenach to stop lusting after me. I dinnae like Englishmen.”
“He wouldnae listen to me if I tried,” he called after her, unable to help himself. “And he verra much likes wee Scottish lasses.”
Foreseeing an entertaining trek north, he chuckled and crouched in front of the water. He noticed Ada hadn’t asked more about his plan to get her out, but then he hadn’t really expected her to. Folks like her didn’t hold out much hope for things. Especially plans like theirs.
As it turned out, Ada was right, and a few moments later, Greer appeared.
Which meant she had crossed her friend on the path.
Relieved to see she hadn’t gone with Bartholomew, he stood and nodded hello. “Good morn, lass.” He gestured at the bench. “Would ye like to sit?”
“No, thank you.” She joined him at the water’s edge, her skin a touch drawn. “I just passed Ada.”
“Aye, she’s verra kind.” He hoped she didn’t misunderstand things. “She cares a great deal for ye.”
“Yes,” she said softly. As if chilled, she pulled her thin shawl more securely over her arms. “She’s a good friend.”
He realized she wasn’t jealous in the least but somewhere else in her mind.
“Are ye all right, Greer?” He removed his cloak. “Ye seem cold.”
When he went to wrap it around her shoulders, she shifted and lost the grip on her shawl.
“Och,” he muttered when he realized what she was trying to hide. Several distinct fingermarks marred the delicate flesh of her upper arm. He frowned at her. “Bartholomew, then?”
He tried to remain calm, so he didn’t frighten her. No tightening his jaw. No clenching his fists. Lord, how he longed to wrap his hands around the Englishman's throat so he could squeeze the life out of him.
“’Twas my fault for not joining him in the courtyard when he asked.” She thanked him when he put his cloak around her shoulders. “’Tis simple enough to keep him appeased by not inciting…”
When she trailed off, he again asked her if she would like to sit.
“Yes, perhaps I will, after all,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
“Might I join ye?” he said gently. “Or would ye prefer to be alone for a time?”
“I would rather not be alone if ’tis all the same.”
As it happened, she truly surprised him with what she said next.
Chapter Twelve
Greer wasn’t sure why she said it, but she meant it. She wanted to know Teagan before marrying him. To spend time actually talking to a man and learning who he was. His likes and dislikes. If she were going to be forced into yet another marriage, she wanted to feel more connected than she had with her last husband and certainly more than she did with Bartholomew.
“Aye,” Teagan replied. “I would verra much like to meet ye here betwixt now and when we leave and get to know ye better, too, lass.”
The tension in her shoulders lessened at his easy response. “Mother said ’twill be a fortnight before Edmund returns with more men.”
He nodded. “That’s right.”
“Do you think ’twill go as smoothly as she hopes?” It seemed so many things could go wrong. “’Tis hard to imagine Bartholomew bowing out gracefully.”
He did nothing gracefully, and the proof of that was on her arm. She could only be grateful her mother had managed to keep somewhat calm when Bartholomew yanked her out of the gardens to speak alone. She could tell by the fire in her eyes and the clenching of her hands it had taken a great deal of strength, though.
“It may or may not go smoothly.” Teagan nodded with reassurance. “Either way, ’twill happen, Greer. Edmund and I will get all of ye out of here no matter what it takes.”
She glanced at him, curious, sensing something to his passion. “You have an alternative plan, I take it?”
“Aye, because yer uncle isnae to be trusted.” He shook his head. “In fact, we’re counting on such.”
“I imagine you are,” she said slowly, thinking about that. “So, what is this plan?”
“To leave before Edmund returns,” he revealed. “If all goes well, he will be awaiting us in the woodland fourteen nights from now.”
“’Tis why Edmund took your horse this morn,” she murmured. “Because you will be sneaking the lot of us out of here.”
“Which makes perfect sense,” Margery would have reasoned. “How else would he have done it? In a covered wagon with Ada and the children hiding inside?”
She supposed that wouldn’t make sense, would it? For no other reason than her uncle wouldn’t spare a wagon for any belongings Greer may want to bring.
“Aye, I couldnae leave my horse behind,” Teagan replied. “He's been a comrade-in-arms for far too long.”
“Though ’twas risky considering the stable boy could say something,” she pointed out, “I understand.”
“He willnae say anything,” he assured. “Like many here, he isnae a big fan of yer uncle.”
“Now that I believe.” While tempted to look at him, she kept her eyes averted out of habit, speaking more freely than she meant to. “So, we've a plan, then.”
“Aye, I'm sure Cecille meant to tell ye about it before Bartholomew interrupted.”
She arched her brows in surprise. “How did you know he interrupted us?”
“Because I was watching ye,” he replied more bluntly than she expected. “I was hoping ye might happen this way earlier. When ye didnae, I went in search of ye.”
So Ada was right. “You were waiting here for me?”
“Aye.” His gaze never left her face. “I want to get to know ye better, too, lass. If that means coming here as often as I can on the chance that ye might be here, I will.”
“Oh,” she murmured, not sure what to say to that other than it made her happy. “Then ’twas lucky Bartholomew got called away.”
“’Twas.” His grin told her Edmund might have had something to do with the fortunate timing. “Now, I can only hope the scout we have positioned beyond the castle travels quickly to Edmund, confirming his plan worked so that we might extend Bartholomew’s time away.”
She rounded her eyes. “Certainly, you do not mean…”
“Nay,” he assured when she trailed off, figuring out her presumption easily enough. “Though I admit the idea of ending Bartholomew holds appeal, ’twould be more along the lines of causing continued strife at his estate, so he was forced to stay on.”
“Ah.” Well, that made sense. “It seems you and Edmund thought of everything.”