Chapter 2

2

T here is nothing quite like the fresh air of the forest to lift the spirits. Not that Colin particularly needed his own spirits lifted — he was generally a rather easy-going man. Bryce, however, was more high-strung. He needed constant external stimulation or he became restless and grouchy. Lately, he was becoming more and more preoccupied with his duties as son of the laird. Sometimes it was hours of poring over paperwork from tenant farmers, merchants, and noblemen, which Bryce found exceedingly boring and frustrating. Hence the hunting expedition. Colin had decided it was beneficial to all that he, Bryce, and some of the other men go out hunting. It would bring food to the castle and let the men blow off some steam. When Colin had presented these reasons to Bryce, the latter had joked that he ought to make Colin a diplomatic advisor when it came time for him to be laird. Colin did not hate the idea.

Right now, the conversation had turned far away from diplomacy and tenant farmers as they rode on horseback through the forest. Many of the men were discussing the lasses they found pretty at the celebration a few days prior. Some were more gentlemanly about it than others, but it was amusing to see who liked whom.

“Any lass catch yer eye then, Bryce?” Colin asked, his voice jovial.

“Oh, aye. Plenty. We’re fortunate tae live in a place with so many bonny faces.”

“Has his lairdship said anything about marriage again?”

Bryce sighed deeply. It was his personal opinion that he was too young for marriage, being only twenty-one, but his political position and birth rank dictated that he make a good match as soon as he could. And he definitely could — he’d bedded his fair share of lasses at the tavern. None of them were worthy of being the wife of a laird, though. It wasn’t rude to say that; there was a certain caliber of woman that was suitable for such a role, and a mere tavern wench was not it.

“Aye. Wants me tae find someone as soon as possible.”

“He’s a healthy man, is he not?” Colin asked.

“Aye, but he grows older by the day. His eyesight isnae what it used tae be. Soon he’ll not be able tae read anythin’, and he claims that’s when he’ll pass the lairdship on tae me.”

“An’ he wants ye to have a wife ‘afore then,” Colin pieced together.

“Indeed. So there’ll be lots of feasts this summer. I expect we’ll find ye a wife as well,” Bryce said with a wink.

“Och, I dinnae ken aboot that,” Colin said, even though he knew exactly whom he wanted to marry when the time was right.

They rode side by side together in silence, the voices of the others just background noise in the grand forest. It was right lovely in summer — everything was lush and green and alive. Birds chirped in the trees, small animals rustled in the shrubs underfoot, and the sun broke through the foliage brilliantly. It was impossible to feel bad on a day like this.

“Have ye set yer cap at anyone?” Colin asked again. The thought of marriage was still fresh on his mind, especially after the kiss he’d shared with Gemma in the corridor only a few days ago.

“I have indeed. An’ when the time is right, I’ll ask her father an’ make preparations.”

“Who, then?”

“Only the bonniest of lasses for me, young Colin. Gemma Gordon shall be my wife.”

Well, that was unexpected. Now the beauty of the forest that Colin had been admiring earlier seemed dark and dangerous. It was no longer a pretty day at all. Bryce’s words hit him like a stone to the gut — a feeling he’d unfortunately felt before. Had Gemma shown him any genuine interest? Were they seeing each other in secret? Were they courting all this time and Colin had been too blind to see it? He felt a little dizzy and gripped the reins of the horse just a tad too tight. His nails left crescent shaped-marks in the meaty palm of his hand.

“I see,” was all he could manage to say.

“I havenae asked her nor her father yet, but I’m sure she’ll say aye. She’s a kind and obliging woman. A lairdship is nothin’ tae scoff at,” Bryce continued.

All of those things were true — that Gemma was kind and that a lairdship would afford her great opportunities.

But he didn’t want it to be true.

Colin’s sudden silence and sullen manner seemed to make Bryce uneasy.

“Hey, what’s got tae ye?” He asked, looking over at Colin with a quizzical expression.

“Stomachache,” was all Colin could think to say.

If Bryce did not believe him, he did not show it. At any rate, there was not much time for either of them to assess one another’s behavior, as Bryce’s horse began to buck and panic.

“Woah there lass, what’s the matter?” Bryce asked, patting the mare’s neck. The poor beast neighed and whinnied, kicking up her front feet, and Colin could see that her eyes were wide with fright. He scanned the surrounding area to find out what had caused the horse to act so, but saw nothing. Still, the animal was obviously upset, and animal senses were often much finer and more particular than human senses. She only continued to whinny and buck, with more and more force each time.

Bryce looked thoroughly worried as well, but he still tried to calm his beast. Then suddenly, the horse rose on two legs, completely throwing Bryce off. Colin’s attention was divided; he was concerned for Bryce, who fell rather hard on the dirt, but he now finally saw what the problem was. A snake had crossed the path in front of them. It was clearly just a small garden snake, and meant no harm, but the movement and scent of it must have frightened the horse. Colin’s own horse did not think twice of it, though he could tell his own animal was a little agitated at the whole ordeal. Bryce’s mare took off in the opposite direction, headed back to the castle.

The others in the hunting party had stopped after hearing Bryce’s horse, and called back to see what was the matter.

Colin dismounted his horse and hurried over to Bryce.

“Christ, man. Can ye see or hear me?” he asked. As long as Bryce was still able to speak and know where he was, that was a good sign.

“Aye,” Bryce said wearily, his face much paler than usual.

“Can ye move yer arms and legs?” Colin helped him to sit up as he inspected his friend for any damage.

Bryce wriggled his fingers and toes and shook his arms and legs.

“I dinnae think anything is broken,” he said.

“Can ye see? How many fingers am I holdin’ up?” Colin asked, flashing three fingers.

“Three,” Bryce said, annoyed, batting Colin’s fingers away. “Stop fussin’ over me like an old maid.”

“‘Tis my duty tae protect the son of the laird. Even from fearsome beasts such as garden snakes,” Colin said with a lopsided grin.

“Oh aye, ye think yer funny, do ye?” Bryce brushed the dirt off his kilt and stood up, clearly a little woozy.

“Steady there, lad,” Colin warned. When Bryce turned around, Colin saw that there was a small trace of blood at the back of his head.

“Och, Bryce. I think ye should go back tae the keep an’ have the healer look at ye.”

“Colin, I’m fine. I can handle—woooo,” Bryce stumbled a bit, then reached up to feel the back of his head. When he drew his hand away, his fingertips showed blood. “Oh, aye. Indeed. Aye, I’ll go back.”

“Good lad,” Colin said, bading him sit down again. He arranged for another of the party to take him back to the castle, seeing as his horse had fled, and he was clearly in no mental or physical condition to make the long journey back.

The hunt would go on as planned as Bryce insisted there was no sense in stopping it on his account. As Bryce and another man rode back to the castle, Colin watched until they were out of sight. It was no joke, being thrown from a horse. It had happened to Colin before, and he’d felt woozy the entire week. But a small part of him wondered if that had been Providence’s way of telling Bryce that Gemma was not the lass for him. And then, of course, he felt guilty about such a thought. Bryce was his lifelong friend; he did not deserve to be grievously injured simply because he was interested in the same woman as Colin.

He could not let Bryce have Gemma. There had to be a way to convince him otherwise. It was all Colin thought about during the rest of the hunt.

“Goodness, Master Bryce. This must’ve been quite the nasty fall ye had,” the older healer, Mrs. Grimm, commented. She was a short, plump, gray-haired woman, well past her childbearing years. She’d been the castle’s healer since her children were wee, and she was still here. No doubt caring for her own children had taught her a thing or two about cleaning up cuts and bruises.

“Aye, it didnae feel so braw,” he answered. He hissed as the herbal concoction touched the wound.

“Hold still. I ken it stings, but it’ll clean out the wound. Yer lucky ye dinnae bash yer skull open. I can fix almost all broken bones, but I cannae fix a cracked skull.”

“‘Tis a good thing nothin’ else is broken,” he said, wriggling his fingers and toes as if to prove that to her.

“Oh, aye. I’ve seen plenty of broken wrists from people tryin’ tae break their fall. Nasty business. An’ ‘tis a good thing too that yer horse didnae trample ye. The poor beast doesnae ken anythin’ but fear in that moment. ‘Tis not its fault, but results can be ugly.”

Colin had been thrown from a horse once, Bryce remembered. He’d broken some ribs, so Bryce was a fair bit luckier than him that day.

“‘Tis good I came back, then?” he asked.

“Aye. Ye just need rest now.”

Bryce let the healer finish her work in silence. He was still thinking about the conversation in the woods right before the accident. Something about that hunt had felt…off, to say the least. From the moment he and Colin had started talking about lasses and marriage, something in his body said it simply wasn’t right. It was an unsettling feeling that crept up on him like a cold winter’s night. Colin had seemed perturbed when Gemma’s name had been brought up. Was there something between them? That could not be; surely he would have told him. In any case, Gemma was still unclaimed. There was no obvious suitor, no proposals, and no ring. As far as he was concerned, it was only fair. Sure, there were other lasses, but…Gemma was the only one he felt was worth something. She was a treasure indeed, and he wanted to claim such treasure for himself. Gemma Gordon was the prettiest lass in the castle; perhaps all the town. Why shouldn’t he have her? Usually Colin was supportive in most of his endeavors. The entire conversation was just…odd.

After cleaning and bandaging the cut at the back of his head, the healer instructed Bryce to lie down for a bit. He was all too happy to comply. Earlier, he’d been so sure he was alright, but clearly he’d fallen harder than he thought. He still felt a little dizzy, and the back of his head throbbed a little. But he was alive, and no bones were broken, which was more than many men in similar situations could say.

He pondered the conversation as he walked back to his room, examining it from every angle. Perhaps his own mind was too addled. He had fallen rather hard, after all. As he walked back to his bedchamber, mind and body weary and ready for sleep, he heard laughter from the end of the hallway. It piqued his curiosity. Usually everyone was busy at this time of day; who could be here now? This was the corridor in which his family slept. Perhaps the maids found something amusing. With nothing better to do except sleep, he decided to see what it was. Perhaps it was a bonny maid — he could use the sweet smiles and warmth of a pretty woman after his fall. Maybe a little roll in the hay would right his spirits.

As he approached the source of the laughter, he realized it was coming from his parents’ bedchamber. He’d thought the laird was out in town doing his visits, so what was happening here? Bryce stooped and peeked through the keyhole. What he saw made the blood chill in his veins.

His mother was laughing, because Douglas Frazier, his father’s right hand man, Colin’s father, was making her laugh — in bed. He watched as they kissed passionately. The sight made his stomach turn, and he abruptly stood up. No, this could not be true. His mother wasn’t really having an affair with Master Frazier. One more look in the keyhole solidified his unfortunate discovery.

“Christ almighty,” he muttered to himself. He’d hit his head hard, but not hard enough to warrant hallucinations. This was grave, very grave indeed. Bryce tore himself away from the sight and scampered off to his own bedchamber, where he flopped onto bed immediately, not even bothering to take off his boots.

If he’d caught anyone else in such a situation, he would not have cared. But the fact that the laird’s wife was in bed with his right hand man, ruining the sanctity of their marriage — in their marital bed no less! — was unholy. It was dishonorable. They snubbed their titles and duties in the face of the clan. Bryce was incensed at such a feeling of betrayal. His own mother and the father of his best friend…it was a horrible situation. He wondered if Colin knew. If he did, that would make him nearly as guilty as the offending parties; but just nearly. If he did not know, then he pitied the man. This situation put his mother and Captain Frazier in a terrible position. Adultery of this gravity was punishable by death. Killing his own mother — or seeing her killed — for such a crime would be horrible. He did not want that to happen. But such selfish actions needed punishment. When he became laird, he would have to make tough decisions like these on a regular basis. His mind whirled with all these unpleasant thoughts, making his head injury hurt even more. At long last, he decided he’d inform Colin. If Colin truly did not know, he would be outraged indeed. If he publicly condemned his father, it might save his family reputation. Maybe both their parents could be exiled instead of killed.

Bryce hated all of this. He wished he’d never looked through that keyhole. There was always the option of pretending he never saw it, but…that was dishonest. If it came to light through another means and it was revealed he knew, he would also be in trouble. He had to expose them now or never.

“I need a drink,” he muttered, trying to sit up. But he was too groggy and it was too painful, so he fell back down to the pillow and drifted off to a fitful sleep.

The hunt had gone quite well, despite Bryce’s absence. The party had managed to bring home a boar, a deer, several waterfowl and some other birds. After cutting and draining them, Colin was quite tired. Boars were heavy, and it took several men to lift it into position to hang upside down for the cutting. When it was over, Colin felt like he could collapse. He looked a fright and smelled even worse. A bath was in order. Rather than trouble some poor servant to fill a tub for him, he decided to find some soap and fresh clothes and go down to the ocean instead. It was not a far walk and he rather preferred the salty sea air anyway.

On his way to his chamber to procure such items, he saw Bryce. He looked a little tired, but at least he was moving about and no longer unsteady.

“Bryce! How’s that head?” he asked brightly.

“I’ve had worse,” Bryce answered gruffly.

“Ye gave us all a good fright.”

“Well, I’m fine now,” he snapped and brushed past. Colin looked after him as he stalked down the stone corridor. Well, that was simply unlike him. Perhaps the fall had addled his brain a little harder than he’d realized.

No matter. Colin would be upset and grumpy too if he’d fallen, hit his head, and had to miss the hunt. He supposed he understood.

As he walked down to the seaside to his favorite cove encased by large rocks so no one could see him, his mind drifted to Gemma. They were supposed to meet that night, away from the prying eyes of the castle. But after the conversation with Bryce earlier that day, he wondered if their relationship would change. It was up to Gemma, but choosing either Colin or Bryce would make the un-chosen one feel alienated from the group. They’d been inseparable friends since they were wee bairns. Was love really worth risking friendships?

The sea calmed him down, as it usually did. It was fortunate that the castle was so close. That meant they could see incoming invaders if they came across the water, or send boats out to greet the ships that wandered into their waters. But right now, it was Colin’s refuge. He laid his fresh clothes on a nearby rock in the sun, then stripped bare and walked into the sea. The water was colder than normal for this time of year, but it was nothing a good plunge wouldn’t fix. When he came up for air, he felt exhilarated. There was nothing but him, water, and sky for miles. The waves lapping gently on the shore were at such a steady rhythm that Colin wanted to float on his back and fall asleep. That was a horrible idea — a riptide could take him out far at any point, or he could forget he was sleeping and drown. Neither of those seemed like a very nice option. And Gemma was too important to him. He needed to see her again.

With a sigh, he began to scrub himself clean with the soap and the rag. He wanted to look his best for Gemma, after all. She deserved only that.