Free Winning the Highlander's Heart by Terry Spear

wishing to stay at Arundel, when it would not be safe for Anice.  She would rather face the dangers at home than hurt her cousin, if the king should want Anice’s favors and she refused once too often.
    *  *  *
     Before the light dawned, Anice and her escort prayed in the chapel, then headed for their saddled horses.
    Anice had said her goodbyes to her cousin earlier and the queen’s young daughter, Princess Matilda.  Anice watched Malcolm take charge and handle everything so smoothly.  Wouldn’t he be good for Brecken Castle?
    Nay, he wished an Englishwoman for a bride, and when he learned Anice was cursed…she shook her head.  If he knew about the problem she’d had with earlier betrothals and her second sight, she’d be doomed.
    Two of the king’s staff helped Anice and Mai onto their horses while Malcolm checked over his own mount.
    Suddenly, he slapped his bag, and yanked out a piece of vellum as if he’d remembered an important document before they departed.  The breeze caught the missive, instantly tugging it from his grasp, and carried it halfway across the bailey.  Laird MacNeill dashed after it like a bounding youth after a pirate’s treasure.
    The Highlander’s face grew livid as he chased the swirling paper.  Both of his brothers stood watching, too far away to be of any service.  Then the breeze shifted and the vellum landed in a washerwoman’s barrel of soapy water.  Had the woman been closer to the barrel she might have caught the paper, but she was hanging table linens to dry with her back turned.
    Red-faced, Malcolm pulled the sopping wet document from the water and gingerly opened it up.  His lips moved, but Anice couldn’t decipher the words he mouthed.  As unhappy as he looked, she assumed the ink had bled on the paper.  But when he surveyed the area, and his gazed lighted on her, his expression was one of disbelief.  What now?
    With haste, he returned to his brothers’ sides.  They both examined the vellum, and each gave her a glance mirroring Malcolm’s earlier look.  All three discussed the matter, then Malcolm motioned to Gunnolf, blond-haired and bearded, brilliant blue eyes, looking like one of the earlier Viking warriors who’d landed in Scotland earlier.  He was Malcolm’s closest manservant, Anice had learned, and took the vellum from his laird, then attempted to dry it.  Certain the message was about her staff at Brecken, Anice assumed the news was not good.
    Malcolm did not speak a word to her while he ordered the servants to ready a wagon, gave last minute instructions to his brothers, and spoke with the king’s steward.
    Mai grumbled to Anice, “’Tis not a problem for you to ride from your castle to His Grace’s to yours again.  My bones are getting stiff in my old age.”
    Glad to take her mind off the missive, Anice faced her maid.  “I promise when we arrive home we will not go anywhere for a verra long time.”
    “Aye, or mayhap another baron’s daughter can serve as your lady-in-waiting for travel.”
    “’Twas you who insisted on coming with me when first the king summoned me.”
    Malcolm’s countenance remained dark like the devil had hold of his thoughts.
    “Just for travel mind you,” Mai added, as if she sensed trouble and tried to distract Anice.
    “Laird MacNeill has said you may ride in the wagon, if it pleases you.”
    Mai frowned at her.  “The infirmed and prisoners ride in wagons, milady.  I am neither.”
    “Aye.”  Anice had given up on her stubborn lady-in-waiting years ago.
     Malcolm climbed into his saddle, his eyes again shifting to her, brooding, unfathomable.  “Are you ready, milady?” he asked, his voice deeper with a hint of distrust.
    “Lead the way, milaird.”  Anice tried to act unperturbed.
    With piercing intensity, Malcolm studied her.  Whatever was the matter now?
     He bowed his head to her, then motioned to Dougald to lead the way.  Angus brought up the rear, while Malcolm rode beside Anice.