Fair Border Bride (12 page)

His strength surrounded her, held her in a grip as strong as steel, but she was not afraid. Had she not dreamt, in the privacy of her bed, of such kisses, believed she knew what might be in store for her when they met once more? Her body glowed in places that she had barely registered before today. A most indecent urge to rub against the hardness of him overwhelmed her.

“Oh, my!”
She drew back, shaken by her responses, wanting more, much more and yet wary at the same time. When he would have pulled her closer, she pushed against him.

His gaze, bright and eager, swept over her. “If I forgot earlier, then this time, I tell you to your face—I must have you.”

The pulse in his neck hammered, and she wondered if her heartbeat galloped at matching speed. Light-headed, she clung to him. “Ah, but what shall you do about it?”

He dragged a hand through his thick dark hair.
“Oh, Alina.”
The groan became a low murmur of laughter. “I have returned from Edinburgh, where I achieved…” He frowned as if trying to remember all he had done. “Let’s say much of my business there is done. Now I am on my way to meet with…the Deputy Lord Warden, and offer a report. I should have gone straight to Carlisle, but….Once my report is made, I will be free to travel back here.”

Alina looked up at him, her eyes pleading. “Must you go now?”

“I must, Alina. I have that report to make.” He smiled. “But first, I think another kiss would not be too much to ask?”

He caught her arm, pulled her towards him and dropped a swift kiss on her puckered lips. “It won’t be too long. I promise you that.”

One hand swept her close, pinioned her hips against him while the other slid up between them and found the curve of her breast. He groaned, and a tingle of excitement shot through her. His hand lifted, but his fingertips caressed her flesh so lightly she arched against him, anxious for more.

“And when you do return? Father will still hate you.”

The church door opened with a squeal of timber across stone. The heavy wood stuck halfway, and Harry used the moment of delay to push Alina behind him.

Harry’s broad back cut off Alina’s view of the church door, but she heard the crash as the solid wood hit the wall and the smothered expletive that followed it. She peered around Harry as John Errington stepped into the gloom of the church.

John was hardly going to be pleased to find her alone with Harry.

His deep voice rolled and echoed between the stones. “I was told Miss Carnaby was here. Ah, is that Alina behind you?”

He must have seen her green skirts behind Harry’s boots. “It is,” she said, moving to Harry’s side.

Alina flashed a taut smile at Harry. “This is John Errington.”

Harry’s mouth flattened. “Harry Scott, sir.” The slight inclination of Harry’s head did duty as a bow.

John ignored him. “What are you doing here, Alina?”

“I came to say a prayer for my uncle.” She summoned a smile. “Were you looking for me?” She walked slowly towards him. “I did not know you were to be in Corbridge today.”

“Your father is outside, waiting for us. Come, Alina.”

Oh, Dear Lord! Her father! John moved forward, one arm outstretched to sweep her out of the church, and stepped into the single ray of sunshine coming through a high window. His velvets and plumed hat made a sharp contrast against Harry’s rough riding clothes. In her bones she knew the difference went deeper and saw it confirmed when Harry stepped forward ready to do battle.

A thread of noise from the market place drifted through the half-open door. She glanced over her shoulder. “Forgive me, Harry, but I must go.”

Anxious to part the two men, Alina hurried towards the door. Errington followed, placed his hand on the latch and then stopped. He looked back at Harry.

Alina glanced from one man to the other and sensed a confrontation looming. She placed her hand on Errington’s sleeve. “Come, sir, it is time to collect Joseph and drive home.”

John shrugged, smiled and followed her out of the church. Relieved that no voices had been raised, no blows struck, Alina held onto his arm. Anxious to distract him from thinking about Harry, she gestured towards the gate. “There’s Joseph, waiting for me. And Father, too.”

John frowned suddenly as if he had remembered something. “That name seemed familiar, Alina. Was Scott not the man your father wished to execute a little while ago?
The reiver?”

“No, of course not.”
Alina prayed that the Lord would forgive her for the lie. She smiled brightly. “Harry saved me when a bull ran wild in the market, and I wished to exchange a few words, thank him—Heavens, how he would hate it if I told him you thought he looked like a reiver—”

“I trust you have given him your thanks today. He has mine also.” Errington smiled down at Alina, but she noticed the frown still held his brows together. As if that wasn’t worry enough, if her father saw Harry, there would be blood spilt on the cobbles.

She kept her hand on John’s velvet-covered arm and hurried to keep up with his long stride. If Father accompanied them back to Aydon, it would leave the coast clear and Harry could depart in safety.

At the gate, John paused, his free hand resting on the ancient grey wood. “A church gate should always be open.” He tucked her arm close against his side and patted her hand as it lay on his sleeve. “Soon we shall do this in earnest,” he remarked, hazel eyes gleaming down on her.

It took Alina a moment to realise he thought of them walking out of church together on their wedding day. She offered a weak smile, murmured assent, ducked her head as if shy and stole a glance over her shoulder.

Harry padded across the churchyard towards the sycamore tree, where they’d talked that first day. In a way it was a good thing John Errington had come into the church and announced that her father was outside. Without that warning, Harry might have walked straight into him. As it was, he should be able to slip over the wall at the far end of the market and remain safe.

Lionel grinned at her and Joseph waited quietly at the church gate. Father greeted her briefly. Alina looked back over the churchyard, but Harry had vanished. He must be over the wall and in the marketplace by now.

“By God, look who it is!” Her father grabbed Lionel by the arm, pointed and then broke into a lumbering run across the cobbled square. After the briefest hesitation, Lionel followed, one hand holding his sword in place against his thigh.

Alina stretched on tiptoe but could not see what was happening. “John, what is it? What’s the matter?”

“There seems to be some kind of altercation going on,” he said, peering over the heads of those flocking across the marketplace. “Your friend Harry and two ugly-looking brutes—”

“Footless Will Dodd and
Dandie’s
Hob,” Joseph murmured for Alina’s benefit.

“Oh, no!”
Her hand went to her throat. “What shall we do?”

John gave her a strange look,
then
swung round on the Aydon servant. “And they are…?”

“Border reivers, sir.
Tynedale men.
They’ve had a running argument with the
Carnabys
for a while now.”

Alina did not wait for John. She ran after her father and elbowed her way to the front of the cheerful crowd. Fearful for her father, her brother and Harry, she arrived in time to see Harry race to his horse, unhitch the reins and vault onto its back. The two reivers laughed and let him go.

Harry disappeared between the cottages that led to Carelgate and the river track towards Hexham. Alina whirled back and found Errington behind her, protecting her from the jostling crowd. She watched open-mouthed as her father pushed his way through the crowd.

“Get out of my way, you useless swine!” Carnaby roared. “He’s getting away!”

Footless Will and
Dandie’s
Hob moved again and again to block any pursuit of Harry. Alina, hand to mouth, watched Footless Will draw his sword and brandish the steel a finger’s length from her father’s nose. Lionel, full of bravado but uncertain of his father’s intentions, faced a chortling
Dandie’s
Hob.

“Now, now, let’s no’ be hasty,” Footless Will chided. “Yon lad’s a stranger here, right enough, but that’s no reason to cut up rough
wi
’
im
.”

“Dodd, that man’s a Scott. Let me after him! He’s deserves punishment for reiving my cattle!”

Footless Will looked unimpressed. He was hardly likely to aid her father against one of his own. The sword tip waved in a circle that was never far from her father’s face and she shivered at the thought of cold steel slicing through warm flesh. Behind her, the stallholders and the good folk of Corbridge muttered and chortled amongst themselves in anticipation of some fun.

A stentorian bellow came out of the crowd. “He’s no reiver, Carnaby. He’s the brave lad who saved your daughter. Did she no’ tell
ye
?” Alina recognised Master Rutherford’s round face at the back of the ring of onlookers. ‘Thank you, Master Rutherford,’ she muttered. ‘I wish you had told Father two weeks ago.’

Father wasn’t listening. His gauntleted hand swept Fingerless Will’s sword point to one side. “Get out of my way!” he snarled. Red faced and furious, he prepared to try and shove his way after Harry.

If Footless Will did not stop her father, she would have to do whatever she could to bring the confrontation to a peaceful end. Wrenching her shoulder out of John’s grasp, she flew straight to her father’s side, grasped his arm and hung on.

“What’s wrong, Father? Why is that man holding a sword against you?”

Carnaby turned purple and shoved her to one side. “Errington, take the girl away!”

A cackle of amusement split Footless Will’s whiskers and revealed a surprisingly even row of teeth. “Well, dang me if
this’n
ain’t
a pretty young thing. Will ye look at this,
Dandie
?” Footless Will’s wicked black eyes gleamed in his dirty face as he surveyed Alina from head to foot. “How do, missus.
Wud
ye no’ fancy a wee trip back to the tower to meet
wi
ma bairns? They’ll be
reet
glad to
knaw
a
leddy
such a
yer’sel
.”

Carnaby snorted.
“Errington!”
His hand dived towards his sword.

Alina reached her father, clutched his sleeve and hung on grimly with both hands.
“Father!
No fighting! You have no cause here. Mama would not wish you to fight! You will be hurt! Lionel, help me!”

Her brother shouldered
Dandie’s
Hob aside and joined her. ‘She’s right, Father.’

John Errington moved forward.
Dandie
stuck a boot in John’s path. John lurched forward, arms swinging like a windmill.
Dandie
skipped after him, got the sole of his boot against John’s backside and shoved.

The crowd roared in appreciation. John’s palms scraped the cobbles.

With a roar of rage, Carnaby propelled his daughter to one side. She rolled into Lionel, knocked him off his feet and followed him down.

Dandie’s
Hob emitted a squawk of laughter and buried it behind a grubby hand. Alina, trapped beneath her brother’s legs, saw her father, sword in hand, attacking Footless Will, and shrieked. “No, don’t let him fight!”

Lionel swore, hampered by his sister’s skirts as he struggled to his feet. Alina got her arms around his knees and hung on. Her brother teetered, arms waving.
“Alina!
What in damnation are you doing? Let me go!”

She buried her face against his thighs and hung on. “You’ll be killed,” she moaned. From the corner of her eye she watched the two reivers face her father, and prayed he would see sense and give up. Even he could not fight two much younger men. John had got to his feet, and stood off to one side, dusting himself down.

The crowd roared with good humoured advice and laughter as Footless Will backed off before the furious onslaught of her father’s sword.

“The lad’s well away beyond Red burn, Carnaby, and your lad’s all tied up there
wi
his sister
hangin
’ off his knees.
Time to
gi’e
up.”

Carnaby roared in wordless rage, and lunged towards Footless Will.

Dandie
studied the situation, leaned in and with a precise flourish of his weapon, pierced the velvet doublet and drew blood from Carnaby’s burly chest. “Ye won’t last out,” he remarked with chilling confidence. “Will’s a clumsy bugger
wi
only one foot, but the two of us can best ye any time we want.
He
is’na
fightin
’ serious like.
It’s only a bit o’ fun.”

“Fun!”
Carnaby’s howl rang round the square and bounced off the stones of the church tower. Alina hung on desperately as her brother, almost puce in the face, tried to prise her off his knees without hurting her.

“He’s right, sir.”

Alina squinted through a tangle of hair. Lionel stopped struggling and looked around. The calm voice came from Joseph, stolid at the front of the crowd. “I cannot help,” he said, arms held wide to indicate his lack of weapons.
“Best to withdraw, sir, and fight another day.”

Alina let out a long breath and sank back on her heels. Thank the Lord for a man of sense. Her movement tipped Lionel over the point of balance and he struck the cobbles with a growl.

The Corbridge stallholders let out a bray of laughter.

Slowly Cuthbert Carnaby lowered his sword and looked around. Lionel sprawled full length on the ground, and Alina sat on his chest. She looked up and caught her father’s eye. “You must stop, Father, for I will not let him up to help you.”

She caught a glimpse of John Errington’s face. His expression suggested he thought they had all gone mad, that he didn’t know if it would be wiser to laugh or be furious with her. Oh, dear. She might have to soothe him later, but at least Harry had got away, and both Father and Lionel were safe.

Her father glared at the two reivers. Lionel, furious, tossed Alina to one side and punched her arm for making him look a fool in public.

“
Ow
! That hurt, you beast!” Alina cried, clutched her arm and then thumped her brother’s chest with her fist, much to the amusement of the onlookers. Her father rammed his sword back in its sheath and stalked off without a word. The crowd, hiding their smiles, parted to let him through and then flowed back again to watch the rest of the action.

Lionel grabbed her arm and yanked her against his side. “You’re a fool to have annoyed Father so,” he muttered for her ears alone. “He’ll make you pay for it. You know what he’s like these days. Now he’s in a temper that’ll last for days.”

Cuthbert Carnaby rode off alone, and left Joseph and Lionel to follow with Alina. They chose not to hurry home, hoping that Carnaby’s temper would have cooled by the time they returned. John Errington took his leave of them and set out for Sandhoe. Alina bit her lip and gazed after his retreating figure. She had the feeling he regretted being anywhere near Corbridge this afternoon.

Alina drove the pony cart with half her mind on the task and let the other half wander. Was she right to trust Harry Scott? He was handsome, charming and plausible, but she knew very little about him.
Secret business in Edinburgh, if she believed him.
He lived in Carlisle, that city noted for its endurance under siege, the veritable hub of the Borderland. She had visited only once, and been amazed at the huge red castle, cathedral and grammar school. Lawless men tended to avoid the city, no doubt disliking the brooding presence of the gallows on Harraby Hill.