“Here, lass.” Hugh offered a strip of dried meat, which Margery took with a grateful smile. Derek caught the faintest bit of a smile on his brother’s face, which said he was warming to his brother’s choice.

“We’ve brought some supplies of our own, you know,” Derek offered, patting the saddlebag which hung over his gelding’s back. “This isn’t the first time I’ve traveled these woods.”

“Aye, but I thought it a nice gesture,” Hugh grumbled, leaning against the trunk of an old pine tree with his legs stretched out in front of him.

“And it was,” Margery assured him, earning another smile.

Derek sat beside her, gnawing his own strip of meat, a flask of water between them. She’d held up well over the hours they’d ridden and was clearly getting the feel for traveling on horseback. He’d never once heard her complain or even let out a sound which gave away her discomfort.

He was proud of her. She was a fine, strong lass, capable of nearly anything.

Hugh seemed to pick up on his brother’s thoughts, jerking his head in her direction. “She’ll make a nice addition to the household. The women will take to her very well.”

Though Derek sensed her pleasure at this observation, a slight frown creased her smooth forehead. “Do you think they’ll demand I live with them in the manor house?”

Hugh chuckled, more in surprise than actual mirth. “Demand? Nay, I doubt they would demand anything of you.”

“I don’t mean to be ungrateful,” she said in a rush, cheeks turning a deep shade of red. “It’s only that I don’t want them to think I’m forcing myself on them, nor do I…”

“Nor do you what?” Derek asked.

She looked away, suddenly very interested in a small cluster of mushrooms growing at the base of the tree against which they rested.

“I must admit, I’m unfamiliar with the way life is lived in the Highlands. While we offered fealty to our laird, he played only a very small part in our daily lives. We were free to come and go as we pleased, in other words, without his interference.”

“Phillip rarely interferes with the lives of those under his protection, if that’s what worries you,” Hugh offered.

She shook her head. “It isn’t only that. Does he… Will he think me terribly rude if I tell him I would rather live among his villagers, or in a little home of my own outside the village? Would that even be possible?”

Derek and Hugh exchanged looks over the top of her head. Hugh raised his eyebrows in silent question which Derek understood, and he nodded in deference. When it came to all matters related to the Duncans, Hugh was the expert.

“Phillip isn’t the type to force anyone into anything,” he began, clearly taking his time to use the correct words. “He’s rather broad-minded, really, though sometimes quick to temper. But his wife balances him out with good sense. Now, Heather and Sarah live with their husbands in the manor house because that is their home. But Maccay and his Alis live in a house of their own—a rather small one, granted, but it’s theirs. Dalla and I will do the same. You’ll be free to live where you want, how you want, so long as you pledge fealty to the laird and declare your loyalty to the clan Duncan.”

Margery thought this over, chewing her lip.

“What about you?” she asked, turning to Derek.

“Me?”

“You’re part of the Duncan clan, yes? Even though your name is McInnis.”

“Aye, so long as he’ll have me on his lands, I’m loyal to the laird,” he explained. “Not that I would’ve taken up with any enemy clans should I have met up with them, mind you. I was always loyal to the Duncans. But while on their land, under his protection, I’m one of them. That’s how it works.”

“I see.” She nodded firmly, decided. “If you’re a Duncan, I’m a Duncan. But I would like to feel as though I have a home of my own, if possible.”

The brothers chuckled. “We’ll see what we can do about that,” Derek assured her, brushing his hand over hers in a brief gesture unseen by Hugh. He couldn’t wait until the two of them were alone, where he could tell her everything that was in his heart.

And then, later. When he could show her. Desire crept through him, carrying promises of what was to come.

Broc joined them, walking somewhat slowly and with a wide-legged gait which Derek knew meant his saddle sores were already back with a vengeance. He’d never dare make mention of them, though he wondered if his friend regretted having been in such a hurry to get back on their horses and ride out to the Duncan stronghold.

“The men are ready to ride out,” he announced.

There was still an edge of irritation to his voice, still a reluctance to meet Derek’s eyes.

Derek understood why and knew this was something they’d have to come to an agreement on, and soon.

It had to get under his skin, Derek mused as he untied both his and Margery’s horses. Seeing his captain suddenly ready to settle down with a woman, willing to let the livelihoods of the men who’d served under him go to waste in favor of her. To watch them ride together, to see how they sat side-by-side the way they did. It couldn’t be easy.

He’d find a way to make it up to Broc, somehow, even if it meant selling the ships in Kincarny and sharing the profits. He wanted to make it right.

The hand Margery laid on his arm stopped him as he prepared to mount.

“What’s wrong?” she murmured, barely moving her mouth to remain private.

“Nothing,” he lied.

She wasn’t convinced. “I thought you said you always tried to be truthful. Why would you lie to me now, unless it’s something very important which you don’t wish to share?”

“You’re far too clever.”

“I like to think so,” she teased.

He nodded in Broc’s direction while the man’s back was turned.

“Ah,” she whispered, nodding. “I see. I’ve worried over that, to be honest.”

“You have?”

She nodded again, sorrowful this time. “I don’t wish to be the reason for any anger between you.”

“I’m not angry,” he murmured. “And as for him… I don’t know if it’s anger or disappointment in me. Perhaps both. One coming from the other.”

“Because of me.” Her face fell.

“Nay, lass. Because of me. I didn’t have to choose as I did.

I never would have if it hadn’t been for meeting you, I’ll grant ye, but that was only because there was nothing better for me to work for. When I met you, I started to think along other lines.”

He stroked her cheek, allowing his hand to slide over her neck and across her shoulder.

“Nothing I could’ve gone back to would’ve satisfied me half as much as the mere thought of living a life with you does,” he vowed. “I still don’t know quite what that life will look like, but I know the life I lived before couldn’t include you. And so, the choice was really not a choice at all.”

She leaned into him, resting against his chest for the briefest of moments before straightening again and returning to her mare. She understood everything he wasn’t at liberty to say, or didn’t have the words for.