The Scottish Bride - Catherine Coulter [47]
But where would she go?
She wondered if her uncle would allow Erickson in the house now when she told him what he had threatened to do to her.
Her head ached ferociously. Finally she found Primrose, lazily chewing on some slimy water reeds. She led her mare away into the thickness of the pine trees. She waited there, even though she knew she risked becoming ill. She couldn’t risk running into Erickson.
Finally, when she felt like a pillar of ice, she mounted Primrose. When she neared Vallance Manor, the first thing she saw was Erickson MacPhail’s horse being held by one of her uncle’s stable lads in front of the manor.
She knew then, all the way to her bones, that she was no longer safe here in her own home. No, she thought, it wasn’t her home, it was her uncle Lyon’s home. He wouldn’t protect her.
She didn’t know what to do, but then it didn’t matter. She turned Primrose south, toward Kildrummy Castle.
11
Nunc, vero inter saxum et locum durum sum.
Now, I really am between a rock and a hard place.
“GOODNESS, MARY ROSE, what are you doing out here? You are all wet and shivering. What happened? Did your mare throw you? Oh, my, look at all those cuts on your hands and face! Let me get Papa.”
Mary Rose grabbed Meggie’s arm as she slid off Primrose’s back. “No, no, Meggie. No, please, I don’t want to involve your papa in any of this . . . well, I guess it’s a muddle. Nothing is good right now. I didn’t know where to go. I can’t see your papa, don’t you see? He doesn’t deserve any of this and—”
She knew she wasn’t making sense. Meggie was only ten years old, she shouldn’t be involved in this mess either, but now it was too late. She realized in a flash that this child was probably the only one who could help her. She got a hold on herself and said, “Listen, Meggie, I’m not hurt all that badly, just cut up and bruised a bit. But this isn’t good. I’ve got to hide. Can you help me?”
Meggie didn’t hesitate. She clasped Mary Rose’s hand between hers and said, leaning close, “Yes, of course. First, let’s take your horse to the stable. I will tell MacNee and Ardle to keep their tongues between their teeth. But why don’t you want Papa to help you? At home he is involved in everything. All his parishioners call him whenever they have problems. He’s really quite good at fixing things, even when a wife wants to hit her husband over the head with a board.”
Mary Rose nearly laughed at that, but the hopelessness of her situation was sitting heavy as a board on her own head.
“Actually, Mrs. Crow did hit her husband on his head, and he lost his memory for a while. Papa thought he was just pretending, but it got Mr. Crow a lot of sympathy from his wife.”
“I cannot, Meggie, trust me.” She wasn’t going to spit out that it would compromise him, place him between her uncle and Erickson MacPhail, or perhaps place him against the two of them. No, surely her uncle didn’t know what Erickson had planned to do. Surely he hadn’t given him permission to do what he had to do to gain her agreement to marry him. She just didn’t know, and not knowing, she couldn’t take the chance that her uncle would simply give Erickson the key to her bedchamber and tell him to do what he wanted. Her voice wobbled a bit as she said, “I just need to hide for a little while, until everything calms down. Your papa doesn’t need to know I am even here.”
“All right, Mary Rose. We’ll figure all this out,” Meggie said.
Mary Rose watched her hand over Primrose to Ardle, who just nodded, never stopped staring at her, which wasn’t surprising, since he’d known her forever, and she knew she must look like a madwoman, all frowsy and wet. “Thank you,” she said to him. “Really, Ardle, thank you.”
“I’ll take foin care of ol’ Primrose, Mary Rose. Dinna ye fache yerself now, lass.”
She was very grateful to him. She smiled, remembering Tysen saying