Sir Ridley did a fair job of hiding his annoyance at yet another delay. No doubt he had a large bounty waiting to be claimed upon his return with her.
Admittedly, over the weeks as they’d traveled, the man had been a gentleman. Even his pointed comments had died down after a few days, and he’d spoken with her as a regular person. Once he’d even asked for her account of that night. She’d explained her terror, and how she’d been certain her life was at stake. It seemed ironic now. She hadn’t saved her life at all. She’d only delayed her death.
But no. In that delay, she had made wonderful memories to take with her to the gallows. Memories of a large Highlander with a kind heart and a blissful touch. She would recall the tight hugs of her nephews and the soft smile of her beloved sister.
“I am taking you to Blackley House so you may change and rest in comfort. You’ll be guarded heavily while arrangements are made to bring you before the lords for your trial.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He thought he was doing her a kindness, but in truth, she hadn’t ever wanted to set foot in that house again. It had been a place of pain and fear, not comfort.
When she was brought inside, Lucy came to her in tears. “Oh, Your Grace. Are you all right?”
“Yes, Lucy,” she assured the maid, though it was untrue. Nothing would be all right ever again. “I’m just tired.”
“Of course. Let us put you in the blue room. The other room is…not ready for guests,” she said.
Mari nearly laughed. First, because she wasn’t a guest. And second, because she was doubtless the reason the room was unusable.
“The dowager duchess is here,” Lucy shared as they walked upstairs to the blue room.
Mari gasped at this news. The Dowager Duchess of Endsmere had been an unhappy shrew even before Mari had killed her son. Lord only knew how much worse her attitude would be now. She’d never wanted her son to marry Mari.
At this rate, Mari might be begging the lords to end her sooner rather than later.
Lucy helped her into bed, where she closed her eyes, feeling the sway of the carriage even now that she was on solid ground. She squeezed her eyes tighter, but it didn’t help. She vomited what little was in her stomach and sat on the floor.
Lucy came rushing back in, having not gotten far. “Are you ill, Your Grace?”
“It’s travel sickness. I’ve had it since the morning I left.” She blinked and shook her head. “Actually, I was sick before I got in the carriage. It’s nerves. Facing death will do that.”
Lucy looked her over critically. “Have you been eating more recently, my lady?”
Mari shook her head. “No. I could barely keep anything down the whole journey here. I’ve eaten far less. Though truthfully, I could stand a bite to eat now.”
Lucy tilted her head to the other side thoughtfully.
“What?” Mari asked.
“As you say, you’ve eaten less. Yet, that nightgown is tighter across your bosom than it was before you left. Traveling sickness doesn’t start before traveling. I believe, Your Grace, you’re with child,” Lucy announced happily.
Mari looked into the smiling eyes of her maid while she counted the days since she’d last had her courses. She counted a second and then a third time to confirm, and then swallowed.
“Good heavens. I think you may be right.”
Sleep was hard found after that, despite her exhaustion. Mari worried what would happen to her child. Would they hang her despite her condition?
“I’m sorry, little one,” she whispered into the darkness, tenderly touching her stomach.
…
Cam didn’t want to stop, but he had to. He’d never run a horse to death and he wouldn’t start now. His da always told him there was a special place in hell for those who mistreated their beasts. Cam was already living in hell, but he surely didn’t want to make things worse.
While his horse rested, Cam stretched his stiff muscles. Blast Lachlan for confining him in a cell like a criminal. Cam would never be able to thank Kenna enough for releasing him. Though he knew it wasn’t only for his sake she’d planned his escape. She’d wanted someone to go rescue her sister, and Cam was the only willing accomplice who would defy the laird’s orders.
Lachlan would no doubt be enraged, but he wouldn’t hurt Kenna. Cam wouldn’t have left if he’d had any worry she’d be in danger for their actions.
As the days of travel wore on, the familiar mountains and valleys of the Highlands dropped away. He’d never been so far from home, but he didn’t think Dunardry would ever feel like home to him again. Not without Mari.
He occasionally pulled out her letter, still sealed and unread, and wondered what words she’d left him. No doubt it was goodbye, and therefore he’d not open it. He wasn’t ready to admit he would never see her again.
He might well be too late already, but he needed to go and at least try to bring her home.
…
After spending an hour being sick and then being dressed in one of her former fancy gowns by Lucy, Mari went down for breakfast. She was always famished after being sick.
She’d been at Blackley House for five days now, and so far she had avoided the other inhabitant. Mari rather hoped she would continue her run of luck for the entire duration of her stay, but she wasn’t big on luck lately. It wasn’t a surprise to find the dowager duchess sitting in the breakfast room with a plate of eggs and a scowl.
“Good morning, Mother,” Mari said, her normal way to address the dowager.
“Please don’t feign familiarity with me.”
“Well, a good morning to you anyway.” Mari hadn’t apologized to the woman for killing her son, because she wasn’t sorry. The man had been a monster. But she only had a short time left, so she damn well wouldn’t spend it arguing with the unpleasant woman.
Mari sat down and unfolded her napkin. How she missed eating in the great hall at Dunardry with her husband.
But the dowager wouldn’t appreciate Mari’s tears for another man. Dabbing at her eyes, she wondered how she hadn’t wept herself dry by now. She’d cried herself to sleep each night since leaving home. She wondered if Cam had gotten back to the castle yet. Had he read her letter? Was he angry with her?
She was fairly certain she knew the answer.
“When will they be coming to take you away?” The dowager’s rusty voice disrupted Mari’s thoughts of home. Mari sensed concern in the woman’s voice but decided she must have imagined it. Surely the dowager wouldn’t worry about Mari.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you. I was taken before the court yesterday, and it was decided to postpone my trial until after I deliver.”