Chapter Four

Lucius arrived back at the Insleys' cottage a short while later with Hamish Bentner and his wife. The three of them, along with Elizabeth, took turns watching the approach from the border as Jacob reassured his wife that they were safe from harm. If the English chose this moment to attack, Lucius doubted the four of them would have any chance of fending them off. But Jayne didn't need to know that.

After a long and exhausting day of waiting, a soft wail echoed from inside the cottage, followed by a second wail that mixed with a mother's cry of relief.

"Congratulations." Lucius smiled at Jacob as he emerged from the house. Jacob had been at Jayne's side for hours, and the man appeared as tired and worn out as if it were he who'd given birth.

Jacob smiled, and suddenly his tiredness vanished. "Praise the saints," he said, and clapped Lucius on the shoulder, his voice filed with pride. "I'm a father again!"

Instead of sharing in the man's excitement, Lucius paused. "You could have lost her and the baby."

Joy brightened Jacob's eyes. "There's that risk in everything we do, my friend. 'Tis the good things that happen that get us through the bad." His smile widened. "Ye helped make this outcome possible, and I thank ye for that. Good comes in turns, and now it's yer turn fer the good to come yer way."

It was not what Jacob had said, but the passion in his words, that brought a sense of heaviness to Lucius's chest. He deserved good? He didn't believe that.

He deserved to be punished for turning his back on Marcus when his brother needed him most. If only he'd been there when the English had raided. Maybe then… Lucius turned toward his horse, wanting desperately to escape. What? His friend? His own thoughts? His belief that he didn't deserve more than the pain that his life had been filled with?

Fairy tales and happy endings were something he knew a great deal about. His mother had spun a thousand stories in the evenings before the fire for his brothers and sisters, each tale grander and more far-fetched than the last. For years, he'd actually believed his mother's tales.

He'd been a young man of sixteen when reality had hit, and hit hard. He'd fallen in love. He hadn't meant to. It just happened one day while he was walking along the loch with his best friend. In the late afternoon sun, he'd taken her hand, glanced into her eyes, and a thrill he'd never experienced before moved through him—a thrill he felt suddenly was necessary to his life.

He'd meant to tell her how he felt, but the words never seemed to come. He tried to show her, but his actions were thwarted when Marcus intruded and captured his beloved's attention.

Then one dark, dreary morning, he'd seen the truth in his brother's eyes. He'd fallen for the girl as well. A final stab to his heart had been when he'd caught the two of them together in a passionate embrace in the garden. As he watched their betrayal, all of his hopes and dreams shattered. From then on he'd stopped believing in anything good, and he'd run away, just as he was tempted to do now.

But running was no longer possible. His sisters needed him. And he'd learned a hard, cruel lesson: running didn't stop the pain. Instead, it only made it worse. The best he could do was dredge up something to salvage the situation.

Lucius turned back to Jacob with his expression carefully blank. His people needed his help. Perhaps that's where this goodness Jacob prophesied would come into being, but that didn't mean any of it would spill his way. Experience had taught him that dreams of happy endings were a useless waste of time.

"Before we pack up Jayne and the children to take all of you back to Midwick Manor, might I ask you one more thing?" The sound of his voice echoed in the silence of the late-afternoon air. "If things are so good here at Midwick, then why have all the servants deserted us?"

Jacob's face turned solemn. " 'Tis yer uncle who's behind it. He's payin' them twice their yearly salary tae leave and he's a tellin' them stories about how ye changed. That the Templars turned ye into a merciless beast."

Lucius stilled. "Did he approach you?"

Jacob nodded. "I could see past his lies. He's tryin' to hurt ye by takin' away yer help. He's made no secret of the fact he wants the earldom, or that he wants ye out of the way in order tae get it."

Lucius schooled his features into a hard mask, fighting the pain of yet another betrayal. "Horatio expects the law of inheritance to change solely for his purposes?"

Jacob met his gaze. "Don't let yer uncle win this battle. I know ye've got it in ye tae fight. I remember that much from our youth." He rubbed his jaw as though remembering one of the many punches Lucius had landed there during their mock battles.

"Enough of this morbidity. You've got happier things to celebrate. Go prepare your family for travel. I'll get the wagon ready."

"Thank ye, my friend, milord." Jacob took two steps toward the cottage door, then stopped and turned back around. "I meant what I said. Yer a good man. I'll never forget what ye did fer us this day."

At Lucius's nod, Jacob hastened into the cottage, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Fight. Lucius tipped his head back and breathed a heavy sigh. He'd become a fighter for other people's causes over the years. Could he do the same for himself? Could he gather his people and train them in the ways of battle he'd learned with the Templars so they could withstand not only his uncle, but the English as well?

He had ties to the Bentner and Insley clans. Then there were the MacKinleys. Would they join him in this cause? There was only one way to find out. He'd ride for the MacKinleys' land first thing on the morrow.

In the meanwhile, he'd take stock of what weapons and defenses his brother and father had left him. They'd lived on the border between Scotland and England all their lives. Everyone in the borderlands had to be prepared for invasion at any time. There were bound to be defenses they'd gathered in the years he'd been gone.

His sole job now was to see that his sisters and his people were safe.

Lucius frowned. Something bad hovered on the horizon. He'd felt nothing but tension in the air today. Whether that tension came from his uncle or the English, he wasn't certain.

One lesson he'd learned from the Templars, and learned well, was to be prepared for anything.

That was at least something he could focus on to keep his mind from other things.

Elizabeth pulled her cloak more tightly around herself as she stepped outside Midwick Manor. She still felt unsettled even though Jacob, Jayne and the babe, and their young daughter Maybel were now safely tucked into a bedchamber abovestairs. Perhaps a stroll would help relieve the unease that came from her own uncertain future.

Elizabeth headed toward the loch and the icy fringe that had settled along the shoreline. Now that the excitement of the day had faded, her own troubles left her edgy and, if she was honest with herself, fearful. Her life would change in a dramatic way in three days' time.

She breathed out a column of frosty air that quickly vanished. How would she ever convince Lucius to go through with their marriage? She wasn't the kind of woman who got what she wanted through tricks or ploys. Nay, he would either accept her or reject her. And rejection seemed the more likely of the two.

And if he rejected her, she would be alone in this world with no one to rely on and nowhere to turn. Slowly, she walked in silent contemplation, until she realized where her feet had taken her. She paused as a tall, winged statue blocked the late-afternoon sun from her eyes. The angel's mildew-stained hands were outstretched in greeting, yet the statue's carved eyes were upon her, silently condemning her for invading the solace of the cemetery. Two steps more took her past the angel and to the foot of Marcus's grave.

A soft rustle sounded behind her.

"Do you miss him so very much?"

Elizabeth turned to face Lucius. For a split second she saw the boy who'd once lived behind those dark eyes. He used to laugh with her and talk with her about any number of things. His smile had seemed ever present.

He was not smiling now. "Do you miss him?" Lucius repeated.

"Some days." It was all she could say past the lump in her throat.

He nodded and came to stand beside her. "What was he like before he…" His words trailed off, but she knew what he was asking.

"He was happy, as Marcus always was. Nothing ever seemed to bother him." She couldn't bring herself to tell him about how Hadwell had found him upon the battlefield with a sword through his heart. Marcus had died defending his family and his country.

He'd had so few men that day when he went to attack the English. Yet Marcus felt it was a risk worth taking to save even one person he loved.

Elizabeth would do the same to save the family she so desperately wanted with the man before her. She'd been so close to that once. She'd known something was changing between Lucius and herself. But once Marcus started paying attention to her, his brother stopped looking at her at all.

Then he'd left without giving her a chance to explain the kiss he'd witnessed. He'd never even said good-bye. Elizabeth closed her eyes, trying to block the memory of the day Lucius left her for what she'd thought was forever. He'd always been her friend, yet she'd hidden from him how difficult things had become for her at Huntingdon Hall after her mother died. He had no idea how lonely she'd become or the misery she'd endured with no money to pay servants or even put food on the table. That's when her father started selling off their possessions.

"Elizabeth?" Lucius's voice jerked her back to the present. "You looked sad there for a moment. What is it?"

She opened her eyes and met his gaze. She could lie to him, put on the mantle of the grieving fiancée, but she had no stomach for it today. "My regrets have more to do with you than Marcus."

His eyes darkened. "Me? Why?" Bitterness lingered in his words.

Elizabeth swallowed the lump lodging like old dust in her throat. Could she tell him? Could she risk it all now? Open the old hurts and wounds that had been festering for so long?

She straightened. The time for fear was past. She was tired of lying and pretending. She was tired of being afraid. Perhaps the two of them could bridge the divide she'd wedged between them by accepting Marcus's advances instead of forcing him away. "Why did you leave Midwick Manor?"

"There was nothing left for me here. The Templars needed me."

Elizabeth felt tears sting her eyes. "Lucius, I needed you."

"It certainly didn't look it."

She shook her head. "Nay, you don't understand. Marcus kissed me. I was surprised, didn't know what to do. You assumed—"

"I saw the look in my brother's eyes. He'd fallen in love with you."

"But I had not fallen in love with him. Why did you not look into my eyes? You would have known the truth." Elizabeth took a deep breath. She had nothing to lose and everything to gain in the next heartbeat. "I have always loved you."

He remained silent, but she could see the thump of his pulse in his jaw. He turned his gaze to the grave at their feet. "But why…?" he finally said, almost to himself.

"I didn't get a chance to speak with you. You were gone the next day." She paused. "I waited months for you to return. You didn't."

Silence settled between them. "I miss him," Lucius finally said. "I could have come back to see him at any time, but I was always too busy with one Templar cause or another. After Peter's death, I missed Marcus all the more. And even then, I stayed away. If only I'd come home, maybe then he would still be here. Maybe I could have saved him from the English."

"No one could have saved him. The battle was swift. We had no time to gather the clans. Ten good men died that day, and the clans have been suffering since. The border is weak. I think that in part is why your uncle had such an easy time sending the servants away. They were scared with no one to protect them."

"I'm here to protect all of you now." His brow furrowed. "But even I cannot protect these lands alone."

"You aren't alone. We are all here, waiting for guidance, waiting to build a new future with you."

"Is that why you're here, Elizabeth? To build a new future?"

The tears she'd been fighting spilled over her lashes and onto her cheeks . I have no future without you. She wanted to say the words, but they lodged in her throat. Instead, she stepped toward him and took his face between her palms. She pressed up on her toes and brought her lips to his, ever so gently, before pulling away. "The future awaits," she whispered against his lips.

Lucius did not kiss her back. "I need time, Elizabeth, to sort things out."

"You have three days, Lucius," Elizabeth said. And on those words, she hurried back to the manor.

When the first rays of sunlight woke Elizabeth the next morning, her thoughts immediately returned to last night. Had Lucius thought about their moments beside Marcus's grave as much as she had? Lucius had been unresponsive to her profession of love and to her kiss. Was all hope for a future together lost? Or had the night given him the time he'd claimed he needed to think about their situation?

Only seeing him in the flesh would tell her what she needed to know. But it was the hope of change that fueled her movements as she dressed then hastened downstairs to the great hall. She gazed about the chamber only to find Marie tending to a pot hanging over the fire in the hearth.

"Excuse me, Marie. Where might I find Lord Carrick? Is he about yet?"

Marie tapped her spoon on the edge of the kettle before turning to face her. "I'm sorry, my lady. He's already gone."

"Where?" she asked in a pleading whisper.

Marie shrugged and offered an understanding smile. "He said nothing, only to expect him later because of the snow."

"More snow?" Elizabeth swallowed her disappointment as she moved to the shuttered window on the opposite side of the large room. She pulled up the latch and swung the shutter out to see snow lying three feet deep against the side of the manor. Beyond lay a pure white carpet with no hint of shrubs or landscape. Even the loch lay covered in a sheet of white. The skeletons of oak and rowan trees that lined the loch's eastern shore glistened beneath a layer of ice and snow.

Abovestairs, she could hear the girls' excited chatter as one by one they drifted down the stairs, until they all stood at the window.

"I've never seen so much snow." Iris, who showed no signs of her usual grumpiness, leaned through the open window and breathed in a deep breath of the cool, crisp air.

"It's lovely!" Camellia exclaimed with a bright smile.

"Let's go outside." Lily tugged on Elizabeth's skirt. "Please?"

"It's two days until Christmastide. We must gather the greens and decorate." Heather looked at Elizabeth expectantly.

"It's two days until you and our brother are to be married." Rose bent down and lifted Lily into her arms. "We need to prepare."

"We can do both. Play outside and gather greens." Lily nodded, sending her curls bobbing around her flushed cheeks.

"Please, Elizabeth, say we can," they begged in unison.

When she held up a hand, silence fell. "Break your fast first," she told them. "Once you have dressed in your boots and warmest cloaks, hats, and mittens, then you can go outside. Understood?"

Five girls nodded enthusiastically and hurried from the chamber, dancing along the hallway toward the stairs, talking loudly, and making wild plans for all the fun they'd have in the snow.

It seemed like only a few moments before they were gathered once more in the hall dressed for their adventure out of doors. Elizabeth had used her time to find an ax and a pair of shears, along with a basket for gathering the greens. She knew exactly where she would take the girls—to the woods that served as a border between Midwick Manor and Huntingdon Hall. Holly, ivy, and mistletoe grew there in abundance.

They left the manor through the kitchen door facing the open terrain covered in white. Once outside the younger girls seemed more excited about playing in the snow than finding decorations. Rose and Camellia agreed to indulge them for a time, and they put their decorating mission aside temporarily.

While the young girls scurried about in the snow, Rose and Camellia made a large snowball, then a smaller one, before putting them together into a snowman greeting visitors to the kitchen door. Heather and Iris lay in the snow, making a host of snow angels. Lily gathered and threw snowballs at everyone.

Elizabeth ducked to avoid taking a snowball in the head. Caught up in the girls' good humor, she swept up a handful of snow and sent it flying. It hit Camellia square in the back. The sixteen-year-old's eyes widened as a smile wreathed her face, and suddenly Elizabeth found herself the center of all the girls' snowballs. Her dramatic responses to each hit and miss, and her own missiles, kept them all laughing for much of the morning. Finally, when the girls had had enough, they followed Elizabeth up a hill for several hundred feet to the top of a ridge. The ridge stood no more than five feet wide, but the narrow sliver of land had always served as a dividing line between the two estates. It had been one of her favorite places to come as a child and wait for Lucius to join her for an afternoon of frolicking and games.

"You can see Midwick Manor and Huntingdon Hall from here," Lily exclaimed.

Elizabeth shook off the memory and looked down on the place she used to call home. A pang of sadness filled her. This ridge was a divide between her future and her past.

"Do you miss your home?" Rose asked quietly beside her.

Elizabeth swallowed thickly and looked up at the tall blonde. "I do and I don't. It's hard to explain."

"I'm old enough to remember how things used to be between you and Lucius," Rose said. Her light eyes held a note of sympathy.

"That was a long time ago. Much has happened since then."

Rose shook her head. "Perhaps between you and Lucius, but not with us girls. You've always been our friend, and when we learned you were to be our sister, we were all so happy." She turned her gaze to the younger girls, who still threw snowballs at each other. "Lily never knew our mother, since she died giving birth to her. Iris and Heather only have faint memories. They need you."

"And you and Camellia? Why would you accept me so readily when you two have been in charge here for so long?"

Rose met her gaze. "We love our family, but we both want to find a family of our own someday."

Elizabeth's cheeks warmed. She understood that sentiment all too well. "Looks like we have some decorating to do if we are going to get the hall ready for not only Christmastide, but a wedding celebration."

Lily dropped her snowball and her small hand reached up to touch Elizabeth's sleeve. "You'll stay with us forever, right?"

Elizabeth smiled and covered the gloved fingers with her own. "You all are everything I've ever dreamed of in this life. My home is Midwick Manor for as long as your brother will have me."

"We want you to stay forever," Lily said wistfully.

"Only your brother can determine that."

Heather leaped from one edge of the ridge to the other. "Then let's decorate the house and make things so beautiful, he can't help but want you to stay."

If only it were that simple. "We'd better get busy then." Elizabeth forced excitement into her voice as she headed for the holly bush off to her left.

The girls raced ahead of her along the edge of the ridge and busied themselves collecting greens and pinecones and pulling mistletoe down from where it had climbed up into the branches of the trees, until the basket was filled to overflowing. Only then did they scour the area in search of the perfect tree with which to make their Yule log. The girls raced along the long, flat ridge, heading farther south until they came to a stop in front of a tall tree that grew just off the side of the flattened area.

"This is it!" Iris exclaimed.

"It's perfect," the other girls echoed.

"It will definitely keep burning for the twelve days of Christmastide," Camellia said with awe in her voice.

Elizabeth carried the ax with her to the tree. She stopped before the girls' selection and braced herself on the incline. The tree was big, and would no doubt be heavy once she chopped it down. If she could chop it down, she amended, eyeing the thick trunk. "Perhaps we should wait for your brother to help with the tree."

"At your service, my lady," came a voice from behind her.

"Lucius!" Lily cried, and threw herself into his arms.

Elizabeth startled. They'd been so absorbed in their gathering and tree hunting that they hadn't seen his approach. And he'd come from the direction of her father's house. Why?

She took a step toward him, but the uneven ground knocked her off balance. She dropped the ax as she tried to regain her footing. Instead, she slipped, fell, then tumbled down the ridge. Trees dashed in and out of her vision. A woodsy smell invaded her senses. Pain erupted against her temple. The edges of her vision turned black and everything started to spin.