Chapter Thirteen

T eagan knew the moment he got detained that Greer would wonder what she had done wrong. Though she'd grown more relaxed with him over the past few weeks, she still wasn't as comfortable as he wanted her to be. She struggled with speaking freely and feeling equal.

Yet beneath it all, another woman started to emerge. One with a mind of her own and a passion for life he hadn't expected. Though still somewhat buried, it was there struggling toward the surface. In truth, he'd never been so determined to see anything freed in his life.

Which he would resume trying to do once he pacified Ada.

A man had arrived, who meant to purchase her son. So rather than meeting Greer at the river as promised, he was trying to calm her.

"We cannae wait much longer." Fear flashed in Ada's eyes. "Because he's a man of means, Randolph has convinced him to spend the night, but first thing in the morn, he will be gone with my lad."

"'Twill be all right, lass," he replied, trying to soothe her. Edmund was still at least a day's ride out, assuming all had gone well. "I will see us out of here sooner. Before the morrow. Just let me think, aye?"

"Think?" she exclaimed. "There isnae time to think!"

"Yet, I must just a wee bit longer." He gripped her shoulders and kept her gaze with his. "Lest we act impulsively, and all goes wrong."

"Nay, we cannae have that." She nodded, blinking back tears. "Ye're right. I know it." She shook her head. "That doesnae make this any easier, though."

"I know." He squeezed her shoulders gently. "I'm due to meet Greer. Let me speak to her. See what she thinks."

He'd been watching everything closely and had intended to share his thoughts with everyone later today anyway. Valuing Greer's perspective, he had planned to share it with her first.

"See what she thinks?" Ada asked, almost as though she wasn't sure she heard correctly but grateful she did. "Aye, Greer is thinking better by the moment, isn't she? But then she always did when given half a chance."

"Aye." Once one took the time to get to know Greer and coaxed her out of her shell, she had a remarkably bright mind. But then that was clear in the tales she spun. He'd heard a few of them so far and enjoyed them immensely.

"Someone will let ye know once we've a plan, all right?" he went on.

"Aye." Ada nodded, finally calming. "I will be waiting."

"Ye will, right?" He tilted his head in question. "For we must all do this together."

She nodded again. "I will wait."

Content she wouldn't do anything rash, he headed for the river, only to find Greer sitting on the shore with her feet in the water. When she smiled at him over her shoulder, he nearly lost his footing, for she looked so beautiful. Her cheeks were rosy, and she'd removed her coif, so her silky tresses blew in the wind.

"My apologies for the delay." He removed his boots and sat beside her. "How are ye, lass?"

They had visited here a few hours before, but, as always, the time between felt far longer.

"I'm well. Though…"

When she hesitated, he gave her a look. "Dinnae hold back. Ye know better. "

They might not have known each other overly long, but she knew how determined he was about this. It wasn't a matter of ordering her like men before him had but wanting her to be herself. Not hold back out of habit.

"Well, if I were to be perfectly honest," she confessed, hesitating before continuing when he arched a brow, "when you were not here ahead of me, I wondered if perhaps you had grown tired of me."

"I dinnae think 'tis possible," he said just as honestly. "Ye are far too interesting."

While most men might have flirted that she was far too beautiful to tire of, which truth told, she was, he found the beauty emerging inside her far more captivating.

"You flatter me," she murmured.

"Aye." And he intended to time and time again. "But 'tis true."

When she eyed him for a moment, hesitant, he smiled and shook his head.

"Dinnae hesitate, lass." He nudged her shoulder with his. "If 'tis on yer mind, then say it. Ask it. Dinnae let it fester."

"If you insist." She sat up a little straighter. "What if I grow uninteresting at some point?"

"Though I dinnae see that happening," he replied with a teasing glint in his eyes, "if it does, we shall talk about it and find a way to make ye more interesting."

She chuckled. "And how does one make someone interesting again?"

"I dinnae know, but it sounds rather interesting in itself, aye?" He chuckled as well and cocked his head. "And what if I grow uninteresting?"

"Then, I suppose the intrigue will only grow to figure out how to make you interesting again, too." Her chuckle dwindled down to a soft smile, her self-confidence improved. "You really are unexpected, Teagan. "

"As are ye, Greer." He enjoyed the way her gaze lingered shyly on his face. Enjoyed everything about her, for that matter. Especially the way his name sounded on her lips. How her voice changed a wee bit when she said it. As if she liked voicing it as much as he liked hearing it. He got the impression that wasn't something she was used to with men. That they were so high above her, their names were a privilege to say.

Though he hated to ruin the moment, she would want to know what was going on, so he filled her in on Duncan's plight.

"Oh, dear," she exclaimed.

When she went to stand, he held back from grabbing her wrist to stop her lest the action remind her of Bartholomew.

"There isnae anything we can do at the moment, lass." He gestured at the river. "Please, enjoy the water and let us plan things out, aye? I would like yer thoughts on how we shall get them out of here tonight."

"Tonight?" she exclaimed, sinking back down. "But, of course, tonight." Where days ago, she would have lowered her head and reminded him he was the man so he should decide, now she looked him in the eyes. "What shall we do?"

He shrugged and leaned back on his hands, much preferring to watch her plot. To enjoy her brilliance at work. To see intelligence where others saw madness. "What would ye do?"

"I would have to give it some thought." She leaned back on her hands as well and wiggled her toes in the water as if restless to sneak away at once, to start out on their grand adventure straight away. "'Twill have to be very secretive indeed." The way she pondered so briefly told him she'd been mulling this over for some time. Mapping out their ‘ great escape' as she would call it when storytelling. "My uncle has men posted everywhere all night."

"He does," Teagan agreed. "Well-armed men at that."

"But are they all seasoned?" she wondered. "I have watched them for a time and am fairly certain they are not."

He slid her a sly look, enjoying this a great deal. "How do ye know?"

"Well, at least one in four prefers drinking ale and eyeing women rather than watching the surrounding countryside."

"Aye," he agreed, impressed. "But what about the three in four? 'Tis a sizeable amount."

"Honestly, and I say this with the utmost respect," she replied, "at least one in three of them are older and, quite frankly, tired and bored." She put a hand to her chest and gazed into the distance as if recalling better times. "As though longing for days of old. Days of excitement and freedom on the battlefield."

"Do ye think being on the battlefield is freedom, then?"

"No, no, quite right." She thought about how to rephrase it. "They long for days of valor and excitement. Days of youth and vigor and…" Greer's eyes rounded, her wee tale taking an unexpected turn. "And perhaps even mysterious activities."

"And what might those be?" he asked, unable to stop a small smile.

"I think we both know." Greer bumped her shoulder against his this time. "Moments in time far more exciting than being in the service of my uncle now. Therefore, they grow bored of late, lost in their own past." She tilted her head, contemplating that. "Which one might think would happen to the other two in four guardsmen, but no."

"Nay?"

"No, most certainly not. They run more ambitious." She shook her head, rueful. "Those are the ones we must sneak past in the end, for they are constantly striving for my uncle's approval."

"Aye," he agreed, yet again impressed. "I came to the same conclusion."

"Did you?"

She looked at him in a way she'd only started doing lately. A confident, passionate way that made him feel different. More alive. Aware of a lass like he'd never been before.

"I did come to the same conclusion," he confirmed. "So, what now? With two in four guardsmen paying attention, how should we go about sneaking out of here?"

"'Tis easy." She gestured at the river. "Use this." She slid him a sly grin. "More specifically, use my mother and me."

He narrowed his eyes. "How so?"

"Well, would a squabbling mother and daughter not draw their attention but at the same time be worth leaving alone?" She shrugged. "So whilst mother and I make a show of arguing, you, Ada, and the children head for the river undetected. We will join you soon after." She pointed south. "There's a means to cross over a short way down. From there, a route that passes between watchtowers, then 'tis on to freedom."

"'Tis on to hiding and waiting until Edmund is closer," he corrected, liking the way she thought. "But aye, lass, yers is a sound plan." He nodded with approval. "Ada will be relieved to hear it."

"So, you would not have gone about it any differently?" Greer asked, surprised.

When he shook his head, she eyed him.

"You are not just saying that because of your determination to help me, are you?" She struggled for the right words. "To see the way I think changed?"

"Only when it comes to not speaking yer mind," he replied. "Which ye just did and did so well." He shook his head, absolutely honest, because she deserved nothing less. "Ye came to the same conclusion I did after scouting this land for weeks and watching yer uncle's guardsmen." He winked. "As to ye and yer mother squabbling, that was just pure brilliance."

Though she blushed, her eyes lit up. "You think so?"

"I promised ye the truth in all things, aye?"

"Yes." Her gaze lingered on his face again before she seemed to catch herself and looked at the river once more. "Thank you."

Shockingly enough, she rested her shoulder against his and stayed put this time.

"Nay, thank ye," he murmured, content to leave it at that and simply enjoy the moment. Her. This place in England he would have never thought he'd sit a decade ago. And with an Englishwoman at that.

"I will miss this place," he admitted softly. He knew she grew shy if he admired her too much, so he kept his gaze on the water. "Our time here."

"I will, too," she said just as softly, toying with a pebble beneath the water with her toe. A nervous reaction, he realized. "You have made this place all the more special, and I thank you for that."

He couldn't help but look at her. "The feeling is mutual."

"I'm also hopeful," she whispered. Though she seemed a little surprised she'd said such, she pushed on, her voice a wee bit shaky. "Wishing perhaps…"

"Wishing perhaps what, lass?" he asked when uncertainty flashed in her eyes.

"'Tis nothing," she managed, her attention still on the river. Her cheeks flamed red. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"Yet ye were thinking it," he prompted. "So ye should say it."

"Should I, though?" she wondered. "Is it appropriate?"

"I'm sure 'tis." He couldn't imagine her saying anything inappropriate.

"You may disagree." She finally rallied her courage and looked at him. "Yet, I feel inclined to say it…ask it."

"Then do so," he encouraged, more than curious now. "Because ye dinnae hold back with me, remember?"

"That's right." She swallowed hard. "So, I will just ask you."

As it happened, she did, and it was the very last thing he expected.