“I insist, I insist. Keep it. It’s the least I can do.”

Margery clutched the coins in her closed fist. It would be so easy to take the money Hamish offered in spite of her not leaving for Edinburgh. She could send it to Beatrice, somehow—they hadn’t quite worked out that part of the plan, had they?

She would no longer have to worry over how to fulfill her promise.

And Hamish was so insistent she take it.

But that wouldn’t be right.

She shook her head. “You deserve to keep your own money.”

Derek stepped in. “In the interest of leaving before too much of the day has passed, might I offer a compromise?”

Within twenty minutes, she sat astride a horse of her own, while Hamish accepted what was left of the money. “You’ll be all right up there?”

She patted the neck of the pretty little gray mare, noticing how her hand shook.

“Don’t let the horse know you’re afraid of it,” Derek advised.

“I’m not afraid.”

“Don’t tell me. Tell the horse,” he chuckled.

“I’m not afraid,” she repeated, shooting him a withering glance.

“Good, because you’ll be spending days on the back of that mare,” he reminded her with a grin. “You had the choice of riding behind me, if you recall.”

“I do. But…”

“I know. You wouldn’t feel comfortable.”

He wasn’t teasing, which was a relief. The very thought of being so close to him, her body pressed against his with her arms around his waist for hours at a time, had been both too terrifying and intoxicating to be proper.

Once more she thanked Hamish, who seemed much more pleased than he’d been when she was running away, before following Derek out to the wide street between the village and the harbor.

Hamish wasn’t the only one pleased with the turn the day had taken. More than knowing Derek loved and wanted to marry her was the knowledge that she hadn’t felt quite right in leaving for Edinburgh. She hadn’t truly wanted to.

She’d been in the act of running away from something, when with Derek, she was running toward something. Or, rather, riding.

“All right, girl,” she whispered, confident that she could get away with speaking to the mare when Derek was in front of them. “We can do this together, can’t we? I’m certain of it. We’re going to be good friends.”

It was such a heady feeling, being so far above those who walked along the street, wearing nothing on her legs but stockings which allowed her to ride comfortably. She felt… surprisingly free.

Thanks to him.

She took a moment from focusing on the movement of the horse and focused on him.

He was magnificent, everything a woman could ever dream of in the depths of her heart. She’d never allowed herself to indulge fantasies of men, even the most innocent ones.

Even so, she’d held onto dreams and wishes and secret prayers which no one had ever heard of. Dreams of a strong man, an honest and good man who would love and protect her.

Derek McInnis would never complain about her to his friends at the tavern. He’d never make a joke of the way she cooked or the way she cleaned house. He wasn’t the type to drink away his wages, leaving her with nothing.

He was a real man. Just the sight of his broad back and shoulders, the sunlight bringing out bits of red in his hair she’d never noticed before, made her heart beat a little faster and gooseflesh prickle the back of her neck.

And he was her man. Hers. Pride was a sin, but she couldn’t help the rush of it when she looked on his glorious form. He rode straight in the saddle, in command of both his horse and himself. His head was high, his chin raised, confidence in every line of his body.

He looked over his shoulder, a roguish smile playing across his handsome features. “How are you faring back there?”

“Wonderfully,” she smiled in reply. “This is much easier than I’d expected.” Not that she hadn’t ridden a horse in the past, but she hadn’t exactly made a habit of it. Most of her travel was done on foot, their horse needed for work around the farm.

His laughter was warm and lovely, even if it was clearly at her expense. “We’ve not yet begun. But worry not. I have faith in you.”

“Thank you.”

“I hope you’ve got a high tolerance for saddle sores.” He laughed louder than ever. “Broc can tell you all about his.”

She gasped in surprise and more than just a little disgust. “I have no desire to discuss such things with him, if you don’t mind.”

“Suit yourself.” He had a nice sense of humor, another quality she admired. Life had been so dour, so cheerless before meeting him. She felt herself lightening, as though layer upon layer of waterlogged cloth were being peeled back and allowing her to breathe and move more freely.

Once they reached the outskirts of the village, where the buildings weren’t so close together, and there was room for budding trees and tiny blades of grass only just beginning to poke their tips out from the dark, rich soil, she could look over her shoulder and bid goodbye to a place which had taught her quite a lot in a short stretch of time.

Not only about the world, but about herself. What she was capable of. What she could withstand and what was simply too much. Lessons a person couldn’t forget once they’d learned them.

She couldn’t have bought such learning at any cost; and no price would’ve been sufficient. That would have to be enough.

Derek fell back so the two of them could ride abreast on the much quieter stretch of road.

“I believe this is roughly where Sarah and Heather grew up,” he explained.

“And they are…?”

He chuckled. “Of course. You don’t know anything about the people we’re going to meet.”

“No, we haven’t had much time to discuss these things,” she agreed.

“First, we’re going to meet up with my twin brother, Hugh.”

“You have a twin?” She could hardly imagine there being two of them. One was more than enough.

He reined his horse in, coming to a stop. “In fact, I thought he would be here. Or at least nearby. Broc, too.”

Margery looked around. To her right, in the distance, was the sharp drop-off of a cliff which overlooked the Firth of Forth. Her heart thrilled at the beauty, the sheer power and majesty of what the villagers likely took for granted.

The morning sunlight turned the water to gold which flashed and sparkled with every little wave—and even farther out, she noticed, the retreating masts of the ship on which she would’ve sailed had Derek not caught up to her in time.

She sat there on her mare, imagining what she would’ve been going through in her mind had life taken a different course, and she had, in fact, stepped foot on that ship.

Derek, meanwhile, rode his gelding up and down the line of spruce trees whose branches were just beginning to bud. He peered into the deeper woods, his forehead wrinkled in a frown.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“I don’t understand why they’re not waiting here,” he murmured. “I don’t like this.”

“What might have happened?”

“Either they left, thinking we weren’t joining them—likely, I suppose—or…”

The snap of a thick twig caught their attention, followed by the rustling of leaves just inside the trees.

Margery’s mare shied away from the sound, ears turning in the direction of the woods while she scrambled back.

Derek shot her a sharp look of warning. “Stay here,” he mouthed, turning toward the woods to face the danger head-on.

How could he do that? Every instinct she possessed screamed at her to get out of there, while his instincts urged him on. Was it all men who were like this, or only him?

She realized at the last second that he was unarmed and opened her mouth to cry out to him, her hand shifting down to the pack tied across her body and hanging down over her back. Hamish’s knife was still there. Did she have time to get it to Derek?

No, because he was already off his horse, tying the reins around the nearest tree limb before stepping cautiously toward the offending noise.

“Who goes there?” he called out, his already rich voice deepening with grave intensity.

“It’s I, you idiot.” Out stepped a man who, on first glance, could have been Derek’s mirror image.

Derek’s shoulders sagged. “What do you think you’re doing, hiding in there?”

“Just wanted to give you a bit of a fright before setting out,” the man chuckled.

Margery realized she must be looking at Derek’s twin, Hugh.

Hugh shoved Derek, but good-naturedly. “And now you know just a small bit of what I went through when you didn’t return as you’d promised, brother.”

“Aye,” Derek sighed, running both hands through his hair, “but you didn’t have another to be concerned about, as I do.”

Hugh’s smile faded as his gaze landed on Margery, whose heart was still beating a bit faster than usual thanks to the excitement.

He bowed, suddenly quite serious. “My apologies. I thought only to play a trick on my brother but didn’t consider how it might frighten you.”

“Do not worry,” she smiled, even offering a shaky laugh. “I’m only glad you aren’t a threat.”

“Well, that remains to be seen,” he grinned, which drew a series of grumbles from his brother.

“Where are the others?” Derek asked.

“Only a wee bit farther out by now, I would imagine,” Hugh replied with an easy grin. “I’m sure we’ll be able to catch up to them without much effort. Your man Broc isn’t much on a horse, is he?”

Derek chuckled as he swung up on the back of his own animal. “Nay, he’s much more a seaman than a horseman.”

“He’ll learn yet,” Hugh predicted. “Come, then. Let’s set off.”

He retreated into the woods to locate his horse, leaving Derek and Margery to exchange a long look.

“Are you ready?” he asked, and Margery took the deeper meaning behind his question. Was she ready to leave behind everything she’d ever known in favor of a life with him? Whatever that might mean?

She looked behind her once more, off toward the village.

It looked so small from a distance, so unthreatening. The sort of place one could easily forget after passing through. She made the decision then and there to leave her unhappy memories behind, as no one in Kirkcaldy would ever remember her, except maybe Hamish. Why should she remember them?

“Yes. I’m ready,” she decided, and followed Derek on horseback into the woods.