Velvet Angel Read online

  “I have two brothers already. I don’t want a sister.”

  “I believe your father makes those decisions. It’s late and I think you should be in bed.”

  “Kit can take the cot and I’ll…” Miles began, eyes twinkling.

  “Kit will sleep with me,” Elizabeth said loftily, offering her hand to the child.

  Kit accepted readily and he yawned as she led him around the bed.

  Miles watched, smiling a bit triumphantly, as Elizabeth undressed the sleepy little boy down to his underwear. He readily went into her arms as she lifted him into bed. Elizabeth crawled in beside him, pulled Kit to her.

  For a moment Miles stood to one side, watching them. With a smile, he bent and kissed both foreheads. “Goodnight,” he whispered before going to his cot.

  During the next day, it didn’t take Miles long to see that Elizabeth’s interest extended only to Kit. And the child took to Elizabeth as if he’d known her forever. All Elizabeth would say was, “I have always liked children and they seem to know this.” Whatever the reason, Kit seemed perfectly at ease with Elizabeth. In the afternoon, he rode with her, fell asleep against her. When Miles suggested he take the heavy child, Elizabeth practically snarled at him.

  At night they curled up with each other on a single cot and slept peacefully. Miles looked down at them and felt like an outsider.

  They traveled for three more days and Elizabeth knew they must be getting close to the MacArrans’ land. Miles had been in deep thought all day and twice she’d seen him arguing with Sir Guy. From the frown on Sir Guy’s face, Miles was obviously planning something the giant didn’t like. But whenever Elizabeth got within hearing distance the men stopped talking.

  At midday Miles stopped the entourage of men and mules and asked if she and Kit would like to dine with him. Usually they all ate together, within sight and protection of each other.

  “You seem pleased with yourself about something,” Elizabeth said, watching him.

  “We’re within a day’s ride of my brother and his wife,” Miles said happily, lifting Kit from Elizabeth’s horse.

  “Uncle Stephen wears a skirt and Lady Bronwyn can ride a horse as fast as the wind,” Kit informed her.

  “Stephen wears a plaid,” Miles amended as he pulled Elizabeth from her horse, ignoring her attempts to brush his hands away. “My cook has laid a meal for us inside the forest.”

  Kit took Elizabeth’s hand and Miles held the child on the other side and together they walked into the forest.

  “What do you think of Scotland?” Miles asked as he held her arm as she stepped over a fallen log.

  “It’s as if the place has been untouched since the beginning of time. It’s very rough and…untrimmed.”

  “Rather like its people.” Miles laughed. “My brother has let his hair grow to his shoulders and his clothing…no, I’ll let you see for yourself.”

  “Aren’t we going a bit far from your men?” The primitive forest closed around them and the undergrowth was making it more difficult to walk.

  Miles drew an ax from where it was slung across his back and began to hack away a wider path.

  With a look of puzzlement, Elizabeth turned to him. He was wearing somber clothes of dark green, a brown cloak about his shoulders—and he was heavily armed. There was a longbow with a quiver of arrows on his back, as well as the ax, his sword on his hip and a dagger at his waist. “Something is wrong, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” he said, looking about her. “The truth is, Elizabeth, I was given a message to meet someone here, but we’ve gone too far.”

  She raised one eyebrow. “You would risk your son’s life in this secret meeting?”

  He slipped his ax back into its sheath. “My men are all around us. I wanted you close to me rather than leave you and Kit with any of my men.”

  “Look, Papa!” Kit said excitedly. “There’s a deer.”

  “Shall we go and see the deer?” she said calmly. “Run ahead of us and we’ll catch you.” Keeping Kit in her sight, she turned to Miles. “I will stay with Kit and you go look for your men. I feel there’s been some trick to separate us.”

  Miles’s eyes widened at her ordering of him, but within moments he disappeared into the forest while Elizabeth hurried after Kit. When Miles seemed to take forever before he returned, she looked about with anxious eyes.

  “Are you unhappy, Elizabeth?” Kit asked, catching her hand.

  She knelt to his level. “I was just wondering where your father is.”

  “He will return,” Kit said confidently. “My papa will take care of us.”

  Elizabeth tried not to show her disbelief. “I am sure he will. I hear a stream in that direction. Shall we find it?”

  They had some trouble breaking through the underbrush but they made it to the stream. It was a wild, rushing body of water, cascading angrily over rocks, tearing at the rocky shore.

  “It’s cold,” Kit said, stepping back. “Do you think there are any fish in it?”

  “Salmon, most likely,” said Miles from behind Elizabeth, and she jumped. Miles put his arm about her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  She stepped away from him. “What about your men?”

  He gave a look to Kit who was throwing forest debris into the water and watching it being swept away. He took her hands in his. “My men are gone. There’s no sign of them. Elizabeth, you won’t panic, will you?”

  She looked into his eyes. She was frightened to be in a strange land with a child and this man she didn’t trust. “No,” she said firmly. “I don’t want to frighten Kit.”

  “Good.” He smiled, squeezing her hands. “We are on the southern boundaries of MacArran land now and if we walk due north we should reach some of the crofters’ cottages by evening tomorrow.”

  “But if someone has spirited away your men—”

  “My concern now is for you and Kit. If we stay in the forest perhaps we can escape notice. I don’t mind a fight, but I don’t want you or Kit harmed. Will you help me?”

  She didn’t pull away from his hands. “Yes,” she said softly. “I’ll help you.”

  He released one of her hands. “These mountains are cold even in the summer. Put this around you.” He held up a large piece of woolen fabric woven in a deep blue and green tartan.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “This was all that was left of the meal my cook left. The food was gone but the cloth he spread it on, one of the plaids Bronwyn gave me, was left behind. We’ll need this tonight.” He kept her hand clasped tightly as she tossed the plaid over her arm and they walked toward Kit.

  “Would you like to walk to Uncle Stephen’s house?” Miles asked his son.

  Kit gave his father a shrewd look. “Where is Sir Guy? A knight doesn’t walk.”

  “A knight does what is necessary to protect his women.”

  Between the two males passed a long look. Kit might be only four years old but he’d known since birth that he was to be a knight. He’d been given a wooden sword at two and all the stories he’d heard were of chivalry and knighthood. Kit took Elizabeth’s hand. “We will protect you, my lady,” he said formally and kissed her hand.

  Miles touched his son’s shoulder in pride. “Now, Kit, run ahead and see what game you can find us. Even a rabbit or two will do.”

  “Yes, Papa.” He grinned and scurried away along the side of the stream.

  “Should you let him out of our sight?”

  “He won’t be. Kit has more sense than to stray too far.”

  “You seem little concerned about the loss of your men. Were there signs of a battle?”

  “None.” He seemed to dismiss the subject as he stooped, plucked a delicate yellow wildflower and slipped it behind her ear. “You look as if you belong in this wild place with your hair down, your torn dress held together with diamonds. I wouldn’t mind giving you many diamonds, Elizabeth.”

  “I would prefer freedom.”

  He stepped away f