Chattan Bride

Chapter 8 - Part 1

Thom was wary but felt relatively safe. He was crossing the border in pursuit of this mysterious Gilbert over Bamborough's grounds, and on toward Alnwick. Aye, he traveled alone because it was by far less conspicuous to do so than tow around half a dozen oversized and overzealous clansmen. And the last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to himself. Dawn was breaking and it promised to be a glorious day. He hoped that the word he had gotten from those who had seen Gilbert last would materialize the specter of his enemy. The trees were shaking themselves free of their red, gold and brown leaves and the sky was the brightest blue he could recall. Bamborough was in the distance and Thom wondered if Lady Chattan was inside. It would be the right thing to do to request permission to cross her father's lands, but he had heard just yesterday that the baron had died lately and the land was vulnerable. He didn't want to create any suspicion that the kilts were coming to take it over. Isabel would meet him with her sword, he laughed aloud. Even his sweetest smile couldn't convince a soul that he meant no harm. Well, Isabel was different. The lass knew what she was about he nodded.

"Should we have him halted?" Andrew asked Isabel as they stood looking over the trees Thom MacPherson skirted.

"Good luck halting him," Isabel smiled. "No, he is a friend. If he is here, it is because he knows we are on good terms. His border crossing has nothing to do with us."

"If it is known that the Scottish clansmen can cross here without question, no Englishman will be pleased. You will be stripped of your home in a second."

"He has not brought an army; he is alone. Besides, Alysandir would never let anyone attack Bamborough."

"Except Gilbert and Henry?"

"I mean any of our people, Scottish. An English battle against the English is not his concern."

Andrew dropped it. "If he is a friend, why does he not come to you directly?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm here watching him. It appears that he heads toward Alnwick."

"Perhaps he heard that you invaded that castle and he comes to make sure the Laird Chattan's reputation is not tainted by his wife's actions."

"Good Lord, I hope not," she laughed. "Alysandir will drag me back by my hair," she giggled.

"That's not as funny as you try to make it."

"He would never hurt me, Andrew. He's a good man, a wonderful leader, just a little forgetful of his familial responsibilities. Besides, there is much still to do before I can go back, so I don't wish his attention to be focused on me quite yet." She turned away from Thom and looked at Andrew.

He caught his breath. Every day she grew more beautiful. Her skin glowed like the moon and she had Annie cut that horrible black dye out of her hair and was growing luxurious blond curls to frame that amazing face, those deep blue eyes one could lose oneself in shone as green as emeralds in the bright sunlight, and that luminous smile that spread so easily. She cast a spell over every man who looked upon her and Andrew's position as her first in command rendered him most vulnerable to her magic.

"Rose asked me to thank you for the gift you sent her. May I ask what it was?"

"If your fiancée did not tell you, she must want it to remain a secret," Isabel raised her brows with a smirk.

Very well, I must woo it out of her."

"That is probably the intent of her secrecy. I like her. You've made an excellent choice in Rose and you will be very happy together."

"Thank you. She is worthy of someone greater than myself."

"Oh, truer words have never been spoken!" Isabel teased. "Have you dishonored her that she is obligated to such an unworthy ogre as you?"