“Aye, I’ve been tending my comrades’ wounds since we were lads.” James didn’t like admitting that, for they were the only people he’d ever ministered. If word got out at home that he had such a skill, his day would be filled with many clansmen and women wanting care. He only dabbled in medicinals and wasn’t wont to spend all day at it, especially given he had guardsman duties to see to.

“You’ve known each other that long?”

“Longer. We trained together. Grey hand-picked us to be his guard when he became laird of the clan, but we were close even before then.”

“It must be reassuring to have such friendships.” She kept her gaze ahead.

“Aye, we’re more akin to brothers.” James slowed his pace so they lagged behind the others. He rode as close to her as he could get. “Duff is unyielding, but deep inside he has a heart of kindness. Don’t tell him I said as much, for he would grumble about it. He doesn’t take to jesting well.”

She looked ahead at his comrade. “He does seem dubious. He offered to train with me.”

James’ eyebrows rose in astonishment at hearing that. “He did? You would learn much from him, but I would that you not practice swords with my comrades.”

“Why not?” Her face turned from pleasant to a scowl.

James knew he’d irked her, but he’d intended to do so. “I will not have you injured while you’re in our care. I would that you keep your weapons sheathed.”

She said nothing to that.

“Duff has always been dubious. Kenneth recently left us. His brother was supposed to become laird of their clan, the McInnish, but he died. That left the position to Kenneth.” James tried to turn the conversation, and discerned she wasn’t pleased by his request.

“Is he content with his duty?” Her voice lowered, and she kept her eyes on the spot between her horse’s ears.

“Aye, he is. At first he wasn’t, but then he met and wed Elisa MacQuarrie. They’ve a son.” He wanted to reach out to her, take her hand, and offer his defense for causing her upset. But she seemed to let it go.

“He seems a likeable fellow.”

James sidled closer to her, their legs almost touched. “He is and I miss him sometimes. Sean and I have been partners since we’d been lads. His bunk in the garrison was beneath mine. Sean became laird of the Hume clan when his uncle died. He wed Frances, a lovely woman, and they’re expecting their first bairn. I would trust him with my life. Is there anyone you would trust with your life, Emlyn?”

“Nay, there is not.”

“I will change that.”

The edges of her mouth moved slightly, and he thought she would smile, but she didn’t. She rode ahead of him. He caught up to her and continued to keep pace.

“What of Colm? Is he to be a laird too?”

“Nay, he wed Kenneth’s sister, Kelsi, and is soon to have a bairn too. He resides at the McInnish clan’s keep. Soon we’ll all part ways.”

“Does it sadden you that your comrades are leaving? And what of you? Do you have a lass at home you call yours? Have you an uncle or clan calling you home?”

James ceased moving forward. Emlyn stopped next to him and stared into his eyes. He could’ve stayed there forever, looking into her bonny green eyes. The answers to her questions didn’t come easy to him. After a few seconds of deliberation, he took her hand.

“I plan to be a guardsman for the remainder of my days. And nay, I do not have a lass to call my own. If you’re offering …” He grinned when she hastily looked at her lap.

Grey called from the front of their procession, “Do you two want to get a move on? We need to make it to Scotland by nightfall.”

“Aye, Laird, we’re coming.” James peered ahead and noticed Grey and Duff didn’t look pleased by their dallying. Sean and Kenneth took up the pace behind them and Colm was just ahead of him and Emlyn. His comrade turned and appeared to be grinning.

“James has a father who bids him to return home to farm their land,” Colm said, butting into their banter.

“A farmer? I cannot see you as a farmer, James.” Emlyn laughed and kicked at her horses’ flanks to get him moving again.

He gave a sharp stare at Colm for intruding. James had hoped by telling her of his life, she’d reveal something of herself. For all he knew of her, she was the daughter to the Wales chieftain and liked to practice with weapons. Other than that, he’d learned nothing.

When he caught up to her, he asked, “You didn’t answer my question.”

She didn’t look at him when she responded. “What question?”

“If you were offering to be my lass?” James held in his laughter, for she did not seem appeased or to appreciate his conjecture. Alas, he wasn’t jesting and really wanted to know what she thought of it.

“I will be no man’s lass. And I’m sorry, James, for laughing at you being a farmer. For it is an honest and goodly profession.”

“Mayhap, but I’ll be cast to the ground ere I tend to it. Och I’m a guardsman and will not be farming anyone’s land, least of all my father’s. What of you, when this is over what do you plan to do?”

Emlyn gazed straight into his eyes and smiled. He could’ve been waylaid by such a look. “I don’t really know. I suppose eventually I’ll return and continue to train with my father’s soldiers. Once I’m ready, I can join his men in battle, for that is why I’ve trained for since I was a wee lass.”

James found himself scowling. “He let you? Do you deem he’ll really allow you go to war with him? I did not get the impression he would permit such.”

She shrugged her shoulder. “Then there is nothing for me.”

He sighed and returned his attention to the trail they were on and didn’t know what to say to that. If he suggested she stay with him, he’d cause her affront. Until he knew her better, he decided to refrain from any such proposition. He realized at that moment, he very well might never gain her agreement to wed him.

Chapter Seventeen

Night crept ever closer, but James wasn’t concerned about dangers. They’d reached Donal’s land early that afternoon and would soon reach the wooden palisade surrounding the keep. Emlyn appeared weary, and he was glad to finally have arrived. Torchlight led the way to the gatehouse where several Ross clan sentries stood guard. Grey rode ahead of them and without a word, the guard opened the gates.

Donal Ross, the great laird, many called him, was renowned for his ability to moderate many peace treaties between warring clans. He was also Grey’s champion and had been a revered friend of Grey’s father. Grey led them to the enormous shelter where they’d leave their horses. The structure was open on all sides but one and boasted a high-pitched roof. Many a horse occupied the rows of stalls.

James helped Emlyn from her horse. He held onto her for two reasons. One, because after riding for so long she’d be incapable of standing on her own. And two, because he wanted to.

“Will this laird offer sanctuary? I worry …”

Her question made several of his comrades laugh.

“Aye, Donal is friend to the Gunn’s. Come, let us to the keep.” James held onto Emlyn’s dainty hand, letting his fingers glide over the rough patches. She didn’t have the soft hands of princess, nor of a keep’s lady. Why that made him frown, he knew not.

As they walked along, many of the Ross clan members called out greetings to Grey. They knew most of Donal’s clan and their welcome was often as vivacious. James kept Emlyn at the back of their procession. He wasn’t as certain as Grey that Donal would offer his hospitality.

“It is beautiful here. The torches and banners lend to its appeal,” she said, looking around them as they perused the lane.

“Adeline takes great care of the keep and its grounds.” When she frowned at him, he explained, “Adeline is Donal’s wife.”