“Do you know what happened to the actual MacPeters?” Espy asked.

“From all accounts he suffered an accident while on a trip to the Highlands. It seems that a Highland chieftain had tempted him with a goodly sum to treat his wife and he simply could not refuse it.” Innis looked from Craven to Espy and back to Craven. “You are the chieftain that sent for a physician? But why when your wife is an accomplished healer?”

“MacPeters was meant to tend the birth of my first wife, Aubrey,” Craven explained.

“Espy was not here at the time?” Innis asked, though did not give anyone a chance to respond. “That is a shame since she has far more experience with births than MacPeters ever did.”

Espy’s innocence in his wife’s death was being confirmed more and more and it appeared more and more that someone had wanted Aubrey dead.

“Was MacPeters death ever confirmed?” Craven asked.

“That I do not know,” Innis said. “I was told the tale after I made it known that I was traveling to the Highlands. I heard countless tales about MacPeters and those tales grew with each telling. Some said that he and those with him were attacked and killed by Highland heathens, their bodies left for the creatures of the forest to enjoy. I was warned that the same fate awaited me if I was foolish enough to go.” Innis smiled at Espy. “I paid no heed to their ignorant rhetoric. Espy spoke often of the Highlands and not only of its beauty, but of its dangers as well. I am well aware of both.”

“The Highlands and Highlanders themselves are not always hospitable. Since you are a friend of my wife’s, you are more than welcome here. And as my wife said, an extra hand is always helpful,” Craven said and enjoyed the smile it brought to his wife’s face, though it was her hand slipping into his and giving it a squeeze that pleased him the most.

“I am most grateful, Lord Craven, and I will do my best to serve you well,” Innis said with a respectful bob of his head.

Espy jumped in. “You could help by looking upon the face of the dead man and seeing if he is familiar to you.”

Innis looked to Craven for consent and it made Craven respect the man even more.

“My wife speaks my thoughts before I can,” Craven said.

Espy laughed softly. “Is Lord Craven not lucky to have such a wife who knows him so well that he does not have to waste words on her?”

Innis gave a brief laugh. “I have missed your wit and logic, Espy, and I am pleased you have found a man who loves you for who you are.”

Loves you.

Espy’s smile grew upon hearing those words, thinking that perhaps Innis saw what Craven had yet to admit, but could not help to show.

Craven on the other hand ignored the older man’s observation or at least he attempted to since it was difficult to dismiss the swell to his heart upon hearing it.

“I will be only too glad to see if the dead man is familiar to me,” Innis said.

The three walked to the shed where the body was being left until burial, Espy much too curious to be left behind.

Innis spoke as soon as he laid eyes on the wrapped, dead body. “That is not MacPeters.”

“You have not seen his face,” Craven said.

“I do not have to. MacPeters was a short, portly man, and this man is not. Therefore, it cannot be MacPeters,” Innis explained.

Craven revealed the dead man’s face. “Is he at all familiar to you?”

Innis stared briefly, then shook his head. “I have never seen him before.”

Espy stepped forward. “We have asked far too much of you after such a long journey. You need food and rest.”

“I would not object to both.” Innis scratched his head, his brow scrunching. “I must admit though, I am curious as to why someone would pose as a physician.”

Craven wondered the same and he intended to find out.

* * *

“You will remain here until I return for you,” Craven ordered, reaching up to take hold of his wife’s waist and lifting her off Trumble.

Espy kept her hands on her husband’s arms when her feet touched the ground. She loved the feel of his warmth and strength and found any excuse to place her hands on him. Not that she needed an excuse since he had encouraged her touches with his own. “I am eager to have my grandmother meet Innis and to visit with her. You will be safe where you go?”

That she worried over him warmed his heart, though he was also aware that she was curious as to his destination, especially since Dylan rode with him. The matter was more pressing anytime the two of them rode off together.

“I learned early this morning that Warrick’s warriors have moved their camp to MacCara land. I go to speak to them. I do not expect any problems. Warrick’s warriors will do nothing until they receive word from him.”

Espy stretched her head up to press her cheek to his and whisper, “Keep safe, for I have grown accustomed to having you as my husband, and I do so love you.”

Craven felt the all too familiar tug to his heart that had been growing stronger every day since she had first admitted her love to him. He wondered how long it was going to take him to admit he loved her as well. It was bittersweet to realize he could love again after Aubrey and that was the problem. He felt by loving Espy he was betraying his love for Aubrey. Or was it guilt for failing to keep her safe?

He had no words for Espy. He wished he did, but words failed him. He could not tell her he loved her when he had yet to admit it to himself.

Espy stepped away from him and he reluctantly let her go.

She waved to Craven as he and his warriors rode off and went to join Innis and her grandmother who were already talking. She counted the warriors Craven had left behind as she approached the pair—six—not an overabundance, which proved he was not too worried about their safety.

A smile brightened her face as she heard Innis chatting with her grandmother. It had been two days since his arrival and after a day of rest and settling him into a dwelling of his own, he was eager to meet Cyra, and Espy was just as eager to see her grandmother.

Cyra spread her arms as her granddaughter approached. Hugging her close was something she had done since Espy was born and having her gone this past year, she wanted to get in all the hugs she could.

Her grandmother looked good, but then she always did. Her cheeks had a good tinge of pink to them and her soft blue eyes, so much like her own, were bright and sharp, though she caught a sudden concern in them when Cyra looked to Innis.

“I need a moment with my granddaughter, Innis, if you would not mind,” Cyra said.

“Of course, take all the time you would like,” Innis said, stepping aside. “Do you mind if I wander through your garden? Plants fascinate me, especially ones I am not familiar with.”

“Be my guest, though they are only seedlings yet. I will explain the properties of the unfamiliar ones to you as soon as I am done,” Cyra said.

Innis nodded, smiling brightly as he scurried off like a child who had just received the most cherished gift.

“He seems like a nice man,” Cyra said, hooking her arm in her granddaughter’s and walking away, distancing them from the Craven’s warriors.

“Innis talked with me when no one else would bother with me and he encouraged my endless need to learn, sharing his own knowledge with me, and he remained my friend when others warned him to his distance from me. He is a good man and a good friend. But that is not what you wish to say to me, Seanmhair. Something is amiss?”

Cyra kept her voice low. “That woman who claimed to be ill returned and asked for more of my brew, saying it had helped her. I doubted that since what I gave her would do little but warm her insides. I was more concerned with the way she looked around the outside of the cottage, almost as if she was expecting someone to show up. For some reason, I thought of the young woman who had come every other day to me, though I have not seen her lately and I am worried for her.”

“I know her, but please do not ask me who she is or where she hides. It is best you do not know and it is best you know nothing about her. I went to her and brought her food, while it might not last someone else, she eats little so I imagine she still has food left. But I thought of going to check on her while I was here.”

“Let me help,” Cyra said.

“Not this time, Seanmhair.”

“Then let your husband help you. He is a powerful man with powerful friends. He will see that the woman is kept safe.”

“I do not know if that is possible,” Espy said with a heavy heart.

“Trust him. He is a far better man than he wants to admit.”

“That he is, Seanmhair, that he is.”

“I will distract the warriors to give you time to sneak off. But do not linger, for they will look for you after a while,” Cyra warned.

“First, I must let Trumble know he cannot follow me. With him remaining here, the warriors will not realize I have left.”

Cyra nodded and they turned, Espy going to Trumble and Cyra going to Innis.

Espy pressed her face to Trumble’s. “I must go and you must stay here. I will not be gone long. I will call out for you if I need you.”

Trumble gave a brief snort and nodded, and Espy walked toward the cottage. As she did, Cyra cried out that she thought she saw someone at the edge of the woods. The warriors took off, though two stopped and looked ready to guard Espy when Cyra yelled out again.

“Two more over there.” Cyra pointed in another direction and with the other warriors gone, the two quickly took flight.

Espy wasted no time in hurrying away opposite them.

She stopped after a good distance into the woods and listened. She always listened when she entered the woods. It spoke if one took the time to listen. A flurry of birds flying off warned of someone or thing in the area they wanted no part of. Voices carried in the woods and gave one time to hide. The ground trembled when a troop of warriors drew near and if there was complete silence, it was cause for worry, for it meant all went still out of fear.

The scurry of squirrels at play, the tweeting of birds, and a soft whisper of wind with not a voice being carried on it let her know that she was safe to continue. Just to be sure, she stopped one more time before reaching the cottage and listened. Satisfied she heard nothing unusual, she continued.

“Adara,” Espy called out softly when she reached the cottage and the young woman stepped around the side of the cottage the tree was growing out of. “I am sorry I have not been here sooner.”

Adara dismissed her apology with a shake of her head. “I am fine.”

“I worry that you may not be safe here,” Espy said.

“Nowhere is safe.”

“She is right about that,” a voice called out from the woods.

Espy ran to stand in front of Adara, shielding her with her body and glared at the woman who stepped out of a dense part of the woods. She was of fair age, her features plain, and her long, dark hair braided tightly. Her skirt appeared to have been mended many times as was her blouse, while her body looked in fine shape. She stood a bit taller than Espy and in her hand she held a dagger.

“I knew if I waited hidden in the woods long enough someone would lead me to her,” the woman said.

“What do you want?” Espy demanded, the only explanation why she had not heard the woman following her sending a sense of dread through her. It meant she was skilled at tracking someone, but why was she tracking Adara.

The woman laughed. “Is it not obvious? I want her dead and now, unfortunately for you, you will be joining her.”

“Why do you want her dead?” Espy asked, attempting to keep the woman distracted from her task while giving herself time to think.

“That does not concern you.”

Espy held her arm behind her, signaling Adara not to step past her, and she was glad she did when she felt Adara slip a large rock in her hand.

“There are two of us and only one of you,” Espy said.

The woman laughed again and reached behind her back, bringing out another dagger. “One for each of you. And so you know, I am extremely skilled with a blade.”

“My husband is a powerful man—”

“The beast does not frighten me. Besides, he will never know what happened to you. He will mourn you, though not as badly as he did Aubrey since he loved her more than he will ever love you. And—”

The woman stumbled almost falling to her knees, Espy’s forceful swing sending the rock slamming into her head.

“Run!” Espy yelled to Adara as she ran toward the woman, bending to snatch up another rock as she did and used it to knock one of the daggers out of her hand before the woman could gather her senses and steady herself.

The woman swung the other dagger at Espy as she fought to gain her footing, keeping Espy at bay and as soon as she regained her senses, she charged Espy. It did not take Espy long to realize that though she had fought before, this woman was stronger and far more skilled than any opponent she had ever faced, and she feared that she would not be able to defeat her.

That did not stop her from trying. Even when the blade tore down her forearm Espy kept fighting. Death would not claim her easily. But when the woman pinned her against the boulder, she felt her strength ebb as she gripped the woman’s wrist, fighting to keep the dagger from penetrating her chest.

The woman’s eyes suddenly bulged wide and she let out a gasp and stumbled back, swerving around. A knife handle protruded from her back, the blade having penetrated deep and she lunged for Adara.

Espy surged forward, slamming into her and sending her tumbling to the ground, the dagger flying out of her hand. She crawled toward it, a pitiful sight, her fingers digging into the dirt as she fought with her last ounce of strength to reach the weapon. Death was quicker, claiming her as her fingers fell short of the dagger.

Espy went to Adara, but she took hasty steps back, waving her away.

“I just want to know you are all right,” Espy said, sad for the young woman that she could not bear to be touched.

Adara nodded vigorously and pointed to Espy’s arm covered in blood.

The ripped sleeve had soaked the blood and she did not want to chance pulling the torn pieces apart to see the wound. It was better if she left it for her grandmother to tend. How she would explain the wound to Craven was another matter and there was no time to think on it now. The body had to be disposed of and she had questions for Adara.

“Do you know this woman?” Espy asked.

Adara shook her head.

“Would there be anyone after you besides Warrick’s warriors?” Since Adara talked little and trusted people even less, Espy knew little about her past. She had only known that she had been in Warrick’s dungeon being punished for theft.

Adara shook her head again.

Espy wished she could hug Adara and help ease her fright. Her petite body trembled and she hugged her middle tight, and her wide eyes seemed to spread wider as she stared at the dead woman.

“I need to get rid of the body. The forest will consume it, but it must be a distance from here,” Espy explained.

Adara nodded and patted her chest, letting Espy know she would help.

Espy did not refuse her. With her arm injured and time passing much too quickly, she needed the help.

It took some doing for her and Adara to drag the body through the woods and up a steep hill and once at the top, they pushed it off. They stood side by side as they watched it roll down and down and down, until the body was speared through the chest by a protruding branch.

They stared for a moment, Espy hoping it was done, yet fearing trouble had only begun. They turned and took time to cover their tracks as they walked back to the cottage.

“I have to go. I will be missed by now. I will come as soon as I can. If you need anything, go to Cyra, she will help you.”

Adara nodded and waved her away.

Espy hurried her steps, hoping and praying she could reach the cottage and tend her wound before Craven returned. A bandaged arm could be explained away more easily than a bloody one. The more she hurried, the more she feared she would not make it on time.

Trumble.

She would call out for Trumble as she kept walking. He would come for her. She let out several bursts of short, sharp whistles, took a breath, then repeated the whistles again. She continued with the whistles as she walked, sure that Trumble would hear her call.