Jerome muttered a curse as a soft rain began to fall. But it wasn’t the turning weather that had him in such a foul mood this morn.

He quickened his pace as he scaled Trellham’s hill, his horse in tow. Having slept on a pallet in one of the guards’ quarters in the west tower last night, he’d risen at dawn and gone to the village stables to prepare Duff to depart.

He’d woken with a headache, likely from grinding his teeth all last eve. After Rosamond’s interruption, he’d only seen Elaine from afar before she’d retired for the evening.

He could have saddled Duff then and ridden a few hours into the night. There was no reason to stay. But damn it all, he’d wanted the chance to see Elaine one last time before he departed.

And good thing he had, because it wasn’t until this morn, when he’d awoken with a throbbing head, aching bollocks, and a sour temper, that he remembered the missive the Bruce had given him, to be delivered to Lord Beaumore.

It was an excuse to stay another moment, to enter the great hall and mayhap spot Elaine again. He should have been grateful, but instead, all he felt was foul.

Never before had he forgotten himself so completely that he might have neglected the Bruce’s instructions to deliver the missive. And never before had he dragged his feet when it came to his mission. He should have been eager to return to Scone, the first half of his task complete. Instead here he was lingering in the damn Borderlands.

All because of that spirited, soulful lass that had filled his dreams and left him as achy as a green lad.

He needed to leash this cursed longing—now. No more of this moon-eyed foolishness. He was a Highlander, a Munro, and one of the King’s most trusted warriors. It was time to start acting like it.

Handing Duff’s reins to one of the guards standing before Trellham’s double doors, he pushed his way inside. The keep had been stirring when he’d headed to the village, but now it bustled with the day’s activities. Servants moved around the trestle tables and benches that had been pulled out for the morning meal.

Lord Beaumore, Lady Rosamond, Finn, and a wee lad of mayhap three summers were already seated at one of the tables. And—aye, there she was. Elaine’s back was turned, but that burnished hair was unmistakable.

Jerome nodded to Lord Beaumore as he approached. “Many thanks for the hospitality last night, milord.”

“Must you leave so soon?” Lady Rosamond asked kindly, her violet eyes flicking to Elaine. “Surely you can stay and break your fast, or mayhap join Lainey on another ride.”

“Rosamond,” Elaine hissed softly. Jerome could feel her gaze dart to him, but he willed himself not to meet it.

“Thank ye, milady, but the Bruce awaits me in Scone, and I am already later than he would like. There is just one more matter of business before I go.”

He reached into the pouch on his belt, his fingers sifting through the seals he’d collected for the King’s declaration. When he brushed folded parchment, he pulled out the missive and handed it to Lord Beaumore.

“The King wished for me to deliver this to ye, milord.”

Lord Beaumore’s bushy gray eyebrows drew together as he broke the wax seal and unfolded the parchment. He squinted at the document, but his eyesight must have been failing, for he handed it to Finn, who scanned it quickly.

When Finn lifted his head, he wore a thoughtful frown.

“We’d best go to the solar,” he said, casting his gaze around the table. “This concerns all of us.”

 

*    *    *    *

 

Reluctantly, Jerome followed the family up the west tower stairs to the solar. Rand had been sent to Maggie, the cook, but Rosamond and Elaine had both fallen in behind Lord Beaumore and Finn. Jerome wasn’t sure what he had to do with whatever the missive contained, but he held his tongue as the ladies and their father lowered themselves into upholstered chairs and Finn planted his feet.

“The Bruce wishes to honor the Beaumores with an extensive grant of lands,” Finn said without preamble.

Lord Beaumore made a noise of surprise, which turned into a coughing fit. As he slowly regained his composure, Finn went on.

“Now that King Edward has agreed to a truce, the Bruce believes he can safely redistribute much of the lands along the border he reclaimed from the English. He wishes to reward those who have been loyal to him—including ye, Henry. Trellham’s lands would more than double.”

That sent Lord Beaumore into another coughing fit. Both Elaine and Rosamond gasped.

“That is…quite the honor indeed,” Rosamond murmured.

“The Bruce intends for the bestowal of these lands to be a grand affair,” Finn continued, glancing at the missive. “After the Declaration of Arbroath is sent on its way to the Pope, the King wishes to host a ceremony, followed by a sennight-long feast, to honor those most loyal noblemen. He means to show all of Scotland—and England and the Pope as well—that just as his people are behind him, so too does he look after them.”

“And why does this involve all of us?” Elaine asked cautiously.

“The Bruce has invited the entire family to his grand fete,” Finn replied. “As this is Jerome’s final stop before returning to Scone, the Bruce suggests that we travel with him.”

Finn’s gaze shifted to Jerome, who stiffened. Damn it all. When the Bruce had given Jerome that missive three sennights past, he hadn’t mentioned anything about Jerome serving as an escort to the Beaumores.

Would this mean—nay, he wouldn’t let himself think of it. Spending more time with Elaine would only cloud his thoughts and distract him from his mission. And given his past, he had no room for error when it came to proving himself to the Bruce.

“We would leave…today?” Rosamond’s voice was dubious as she glanced down at her rounded belly. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to move very fast. In fact, I doubt traveling would be comfortable—or wise—for me.”

“I’ll stay with ye,” Finn said immediately.

“Nay, go,” Rosamond replied. “Represent the both of us. Besides, you’ll only be gone a few sennights, I imagine. The babe will not come before you return.”

Finn frowned, clearly unconvinced, but before he could speak, Lord Beaumore cut in. “You can represent me as well, Finn,” he said, tugging on his graying beard. “Though I long to thank the Bruce in person for his generosity, I cannot pretend my health would allow it.”

Jerome had noticed the Englishman’s frequent coughing jags but hadn’t wished to comment on them. He couldn’t deny a flood of relief that he wouldn’t be responsible for seeing a pregnant woman and an elderly, ailing man on the sennight-long journey to Scone. But that still left—

Elaine had been sitting quietly, her hands balled in her lap. But now she spoke.

“I wish to go.”

Jerome and Finn both jerked in surprise. Finn recovered first.

“Lainey, dinnae ye think yer sister would appreciate having ye here to help with Rand?”

To Jerome’s surprise, Rosamond spoke up. “She needn’t be forced to remain on my account. I can look after Rand, with Maggie and the servants’ help, of course.”

Finn’s lips compressed, but he didn’t gainsay his wife.

Jerome, on the other hand, had held his tongue long enough.

“This journey will be no place for a lady,” he said, willing his voice to be even.

She lifted her head, her gaze clashing with his, and for the first time since he’d met her, her sweet, soulful eyes held a stubborn glint.

“I am a strong rider,” she replied. “And I am not some pampered princess. We live simply here at Trellham. I would not require—”

“Servants?” Jerome cut in. “Because ye willnae have any. Or a bed. My mission first and foremost is to deliver the seals safely to the Bruce. That means we’ll avoid roads and villages. The risk of being waylaid or even merely pickpocketed by some fool who doesnae ken what I carry is too great.”

Elaine swallowed. Damn it all, Jerome was being an arse. Yet he had to make her understand that this would be no merry jaunt into Scotland. Everything depended on him successfully delivering the seals—the Bruce’s declaration, the cause, and mayhap even Jerome’s own life.

But the truth was, he wasn’t merely trying to scare her out of coming for the sake of the mission. Nay, a darker, more dangerous truth lurked in the back of his mind.

He didn’t want her near him, for he feared he’d lose his head just as he had last night if she were close. How could he see his assignment done when he couldn’t stop staring at her, couldn’t get the scent of her, all spring air and new grass and woman, out of his mind? And aye, he couldn’t forget the feel of her body against his, her mouth soft as she yielded its inner heat to him.

Damn it all.

“I know it won’t be easy,” Elaine said, shifting her gaze to Finn. “But I promise not to complain or slow you down.”

Finn seemed to have taken Jerome’s warning to heart more than Elaine had. He crossed his arms. “It could be dangerous.”

“Aye, and I could fall down the stairs tomorrow as well,” Elaine shot back in a surprisingly droll tone considering the way her fierce brother-in-law was scowling at her.

“Ye ken this will be different, Lainey,” he replied.

Elaine opened her mouth to respond, but Rosamond spoke first.

“I think she should be allowed to go.”

Now it was Rosamond’s turn to face glowers from Jerome and Finn.

“We all know that Lainey wishes to see more of the world,” Rosamond hurried on, turning to her father for support. “We can keep her locked away at Trellham for the rest of her life—or until she’s married,” she added, nodding to Lord Beaumore, “but I think it would do her good to step out of Trellham’s shadow a bit before then.”

Lord Beaumore considered Rosamond’s words, his weathered features drawn as he tugged on his beard distractedly. At last, he turned to Elaine.

“This is what you want, my dear? To endure a sennight of hard travel just to go to the Bruce’s celebration, then spend another sennight returning?”

Elaine’s blue eyes grew impossibly brighter with the sheen of unshed tears. “Oh, aye,” she breathed.

Lord Beaumore hesitated for a long moment, but at last, he nodded slowly. Jerome barely stifled a curse.

“Very well,” Lord Beaumore said. At Elaine’s exclamation of joy, he held up a hand. “But when you return, no more of these wild antics with the guards, do you hear me, Lainey? I have indulged you a great deal, for you are a dear treasure to the entire family, but you are a young lady now. It is time to find a proper husband for you.”

Elaine stilled in her chair, much of her excitement dampened by her father’s words. Still, she nodded. “Aye, Father,” she said.

“Come,” Rosamond said, rising and taking Elaine’s hand. “I’ll help you pack.”

Lord Beaumore shuffled out of the solar after his daughters, but as Jerome moved to follow, Finn caught his arm.

“Rosamond told me what she saw last night,” he said, leveling Jerome with a hard look. “Dinnae think that just because ye have another sennight with my wee sister-in-law, ye can touch her again.”

Jerome stiffened, an unexpected jolt of hot anger hitting him. “Ye’ve been living among the English so long that ye forget what a Highlander’s honor means.”

“Oh, I ken something of Munro honor,” Finn replied softly.

The Sutherlands and Munros bordered each other, and though the clans had entered a wary truce of late, memories were long in the Highlands.

“And I ken something of ye as well,” Finn went on. “They call ye the Munro Laird’s hound, though I imagine few outside yer clan ken the reason why. I, however, have heard the story.”

The heat of Jerome’s ire turned to icy trepidation in his veins. “I am no’ like my father,” he murmured. “I have proven that to my Laird.”

“The Bruce seems to agree, else he wouldnae have made ye a member of the Bodyguard Corps.” Finn at last released Jerome’s arm but kept his gaze cool and sharp on him. “Still, Elaine’s happiness and wellbeing mean everything to my wife—and therefore to me as well. If ye harm her in any way—”

“Ye heard my words, didnae ye?” Jerome snapped. “I didnae try to lure her along. I warned her against coming.”

Finn tilted his head in acknowledgement, yet the hardness in his eyes told Jerome he hadn’t been convinced. “All the same, I’ll be watching ye, Munro.”

Bloody hell. What had this damned mission turned into?