Heath lay watching Lillia. Light filtered into the cave and Annag bustled about fixing the morning fare. He usually rose early, but this day he didn’t want to face the morn. This day he’d forever tie himself to Lillia which troubled him. Not because he didn’t care for her. He cared a whole lot, more than he thought possible. It was mainly because he’d have to put behind him the quest to serve God and also because he’d have a hell of a time getting her to agree.

He wouldn’t force her though. Somehow he would gain her agreement. Added to the weight of those issues, James had to be on his way to the caves. He needed to get the marriage done before his surly comrade arrived.

“Good morn.” She touched his face, solacing him briefly.

“We must leave. Make haste. Ready and meet me at the horses.”

“But—”

“No buts, Sweetness. You are coming with me even if I must throw ye upon my damned horse and make off with you. Now ready yourself, and I’ll get us something to eat along the way. Don’t dally.”

Heath rose and told Annag what he needed. She put together a small sack of foodstuff: bread, fruit, cheese, and handed it to him. The old woman gazed at him with a strange look.

“Och ye be doing the right thing,” she said, and clasped his hand. “You shall make a fine husband for Lillia.”

Kerrigan joined them at the table. He watched Lillia, who grumbled about using the stream to wake her, leave the cave, and he turned back to the two women he’d come to care for.

“I’m off to the abbey.”

“All shall go well,” Kerrigan said.

He guffawed in objection. “I doubt it, but regardless before this day is through she will be my wife.”

“She hasn’t agreed?” Annag tisked. “You will convince her for she’s professed to giving you her heart. Surely that be enough.”

“Have you told her you love her?”

He raised a brow at Kerrigan’s question. “I will figure out how to gain her agreement. Tell Graeme I’ll return before dark.” Heath set out to the ossuary and found Lillia walking in the opposite direction. His stride was much quicker than hers and he caught up to her and plucked her from the ground.

“Sweetness, don’t tell me you’re having wedding nerves.” He tapped her bottom and laughed when she gasped. “I suppose we’ll have to ride together.” Heath bid Gilroy have his horse ready in the morning. Lillia let out an unladylike expletive when he tossed her upon the horse’s back. He quickly mounted behind her in case she had thoughts of jumping and making off.

Heath concentrated on the lane and the nearness of Lillia. She leaned back against him and hadn’t spoken since they set out. As much despair wreaked upon him in recent years, he was also fortunate. For some strange reason he felt as though he was rewarded. Lillia was everything he wanted in a wife.

Surely he shouldn’t be content, especially after the debacle with his brother in France, the treason against his clan, the failure to make right the deaths he’d committed, and for not fulfilling his promise to God. As the lane ended, he shook off the guilt and decided to go forward. There was nothing to do but make good on his promise to Lillia. At least, he’d hope to accomplish one ambition this day.

They reached Sweetheart Abbey when the sun rose to its highest point. Even so, there was a brisk chill to the air. Heath pulled a tartan from his saddle bag and placed it over Lillia’s shoulders. She looked bonny wearing his tartan.

“The abbey is called Sweetheart Abbey, named because the lady who commissioned it did so in honor of her beloved husband.” He smiled at the thought the woman had loved her husband to such an extreme. Would that his wife loved him as much, but there was always hope. If he could even get her to agree to wed him and speak the words, he might one day hear her profess such sentiment.

“That’s a lovely tale, Heath, but are you certain it is true?”

“It is. Lady Dervorguilla had the abbey erected in memory of her husband, Baron John Balliol. After he died, she kept a small casket which held his heart. When she died, it was buried alongside her.” He quieted on the approach to the main building. Heath kept a lookout for James. His comrade might’ve gone to the abbey first, but there was no sign of him. At the entrance to the abbey, Friar Hemm bid them to enter.

“Heath, it is good to see you. Have ye come to— ”

He bowed his head to the clergyman. “Friar, we’re here to take the sacrament of marriage.”

Lilla stepped forward and was about to denounce his request. Heath pulled her back. “I might need a wee bit of help, Friar, to get her to say the words.”

Hemm raised his eyebrows in astonishment. “There will be no trickery, Heath. She must agree on her own accord.” He led them inside and to the small chapel where Heath often gave his confession.

“Do you wish to confess your sins before we begin?”

He shook his head. As much as he wanted to speak of his latest transgressions, he wouldn’t risk Lillia fleeing whilst he did so.

“Both of you kneel before the altar.”

“Friar, I cannot wed him.”

Hemm turned a disapproved glance at him. “Why not, lass? Do ye not love Heath?”

She nodded. “I do love him, but—”

“If you love him then why do ye not wish to wed him?”

“I don’t want him to be miserable.”

“You think I’ll be miserable?” He was astounded by her assertion.

“You shall be. I won’t be the cause of your unhappiness.”

A glint shone in his eyes, for he was about to do the unthinkable. “Friar, we consorted and slept together beneath the same covers, akin to what husbands and wives do. Tell her that in God’s eyes we must wed.” Heath felt lowly for speaking of such personal business in front of Hemm, but there was no other way to get her to accept him.

Lillia elbowed his arm and her face flushed with brightness. “Shush, don’t speak of such matters here of all places. Why are you telling him that?”

“If this is true, my lady, then ye are already wed in the eyes of the lord.” Hemm smiled lightly and made the sign of the cross before them. “’Tis just a matter of formality now.”

“Oh God,” her voice pitched.

“Do you wish to speak to God, lass? We can give ye a few moments.” Hemm grinned.

Heath almost laughed at Hemm’s jest. He had to gain her acceptance and thought for a moment. “Lillia Hunter …”

She lowered her gaze and wouldn’t look at him. “Aye, Heath Fraser.”

He raised her chin with the tips of his fingers and forced her up. “You gave your heart to me, did you not? I heard you tell the friar you love me.”

“Aye,” she whispered, and lowered her gaze to her hands. “I gave you my heart long ago when we were but children.”

“If that is so then I’m not giving it back. You’ve given your heart to me and I’m keeping it. You must wed me. We were meant to end here as husband and wife. I’ve known that since the night you kissed me beneath the willows when all the fireflies surrounded us.”

She wiped a tear that trickled over her cheek. “You’re correct in that. Please, Heath, promise me you won’t regret this, even if you never come to love—”

“I won’t regret it.” He clasped her hand and bounded their joined hands with the cloth of his tartan. “You may begin, Friar.”

 

*****

Their wedding celebration lasted well into the night. By the time he sought his bed, Lillia had been asleep for hours. He decided against waking her. As much as he wanted to consummate their union, he reasoned he’d put her through enough for one day.

When he awakened, he found her gone. It wasn’t like him to sleep late, but he had been one of the last at the table. From the slight pounding of his head, he realized he might’ve imbibed a wee bit much.

Heath sobered quickly when he thought about their conversations. It wasn’t like him to share his view or past with his comrades. But last eve, he’d done more than that. Drink loosened his lips more than he was wont. He flinched when he remembered some of the words.

He ambled to the table and pushed away the trencher of food. His stomach couldn’t withstand a bite. He scowled at Graeme who sat across from him, his wee William on his lap and a grin on his face.

“You look like shit. I suppose marriage doesn’t agree with you?”

“I blame you for this.” Heath never should have let Graeme talk him into drinking the harsh brew gotten from their good comrade, Rohan, who owned the largest mead hall in Dumfries.

Graeme chuckled and set his son on his feet. “It was high time you stopped being a devout arse. Others will serve God, Heath, not you. You were meant for grander things. Brew is good for the soul.”

Brodin groaned from the end of the table. “Och but not for the head.”

Heath added, “And definitely not for the stomach.”

As they sat there in misery, except for Graeme for he’d only raised his cup when they toasted the marriage, he wasn’t partaking since it was his turn to look after his son in the morn. Liam hadn’t taken part in their drinking either because he maintained someone needed to be on watch.

“Did I really tell you Lillia’s worry about getting with child after only two bouts of lovemaking?” He groaned and rubbed his eyes, hoping it wasn’t so, but after he revealed her foolish thoughts, he’d retold the embarrassing detail of their ordeal of getting to speak the words before the friar.

Brodin chortled. “Indeed. I’ve never heard of such foolery. I hope you set the lass straight.”

“Aye, of course I did. Where’s Liam?”

Graeme handed his son a bowl and spoon to occupy the lad while they spoke. “He left earlier. Went to the abbey to see if James came. He should be back soon. Here he is now.”

Liam walked into the cave with a spring to his step and a whistle on his lips. “Comrades, it’s downright freezing out there. I deem we’ll get snow soon.”

Graeme bade him with a wave of his hand. “What news have you?”

“James and his band haven’t been at the abbey or the village. Rohan hasn’t seen him. It is odd he didn’t follow us straightaway. I would’ve thought he’d hightail it and get here before us.” Liam sat and poured a cup of water and pushed it in front of him.

Heath scowled at the cup as if it was poison.

“Drink. You’ll feel better. I have a message for you.” Liam pushed a sealed parchment across the table.

Heath held it before opening it. He hoped it wasn’t more ill-fated news.

 

Son, I detest asking you to travel home when ye were recently here, but I need ye to seek a treaty meeting with the MacKintosh laird. I cannot leave the keep. You are the only one I trust to handle the matter. Come at the soonest.

Your da, Laird Fraser

 

He folded the parchment and looked up to find three sets of eyes staring at him. “My da … he needs me to return home and handle a treaty with our enemy. I should leave at once.” He stood ready to make off.

“What of Lillia?” Brodin asked.

He sat back down. “I cannot leave her here. If James comes he’ll not listen to reason … I shall take her with me.”

Graeme held up his hand stopping him from leaving. “We are free from our duty to the king presently, at least whilst he seeks refuge during the winter. We have no prospects of employment. There is no hurry, Heath. Go and see to your family matters. Don’t rush back.”

He gave a quick nod and before he left the cave, Brodin caught up to him. “I’ll be going along with you and see to your back. Besides, your wife probably won’t let you touch her seeings how you’ve already reached your limit.” Brodin bellowed his jest.

Heath shoved his shoulder. “Jest if you are wont, but I’ll be glad to have you along. Lillia’s safety is of more import than your banter.”

He left Brodin at the ossuary and trotted toward the stream. Lillia helped Kerrigan with the launder. He watched her for a moment tending to the wifely duty. She never appeared lovelier.

“We need to make ready to leave.”

“Leave? Why?” She wrung out a tunic she’d washed and looked up at him in bewilderment.

He wanted to kiss her, to take her in his arms and give her the most improper greeting, but he knelt next to her. “My da asked me to come. I need to go home for a short visit and I would that you come with me. Brodin awaits us and will come.”

“I do wish to see your father, for he was kind when I last saw him. Can I ride my own mount? I always fear riding with you. You go too fast.”

Kerrigan giggled. “Take my horse, Lillia. I won’t have need of it, especially in my condition.” She smoothed a hand over the bulge of her belly.

Lillia nodded. “My thanks. I shall see you soon.”

Heath left her at the cave and went to the ossuary. There, he ensured his horse’s harness was fastened properly and he was ready for the long ride. Kerrigan’s horse whinnied at the prospect of being ridden. The mare rarely was exercised. He took a good bit of feed, a special blend of grasses and oats that Gilroy remedied and attached the sack to his saddle.

Lillia met him soon after and Brodin already awaited them on the lane. Heath set a swift pace even though Lillia asked him several times to slow down. He wanted to reach home at the soonest. His da’s message concerned him because his father hadn’t mentioned wanting a treaty with their enemy when he was last there. What changed in a matter of days? Why the rush to do so now?

“We’re in hostile territory, Sweetness, and need to make haste. We’ll slow when we reach the peak.” He smiled at the way she blew an errant strand of hair from her face. Heath led them through a narrow lane that sat at the bottom of two hills. It was the perfect place for an ambush and he tensed with scrutiny of the hills. He kicked his horse’s haunches to get him moving because he didn’t trust the Macintosh clan.

“We need to ride quickly to the safety of the woods.” His instinct prickled his skin because he’d felt the eyes of his enemy. They had to be close, near enough to see them. Once they reached the edge of the lane, he picked up the pace. Home was just over the hills.