Midnight Honor by Marsha Canham

Author:Marsha Canham [Marsha Canham]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780307567918
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2001-03-04T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Anne was in no fit mood for company when Robbie and Jamie Farquharson came pounding on her door shortly after dawn. Angus had been gone perhaps an hour, and she had spent the time sitting alone in the dark, wrapped in a blanket that still held the scent of his hair and body. At first she had only felt abysmally sorry for herself. But knowing that would never do, she allowed anger, then resentment to flood into the empty spaces Angus had so recently filled with hope and promise.

Try as she might, she could not be entirely angry with her husband, for he had made the point well when he asked if his honor was worth any less than hers. It wasn't, of course, and she supposed she had known it all along; it had just been difficult to accept. Oddly enough, it brought some measure of relief, in a way, because she knew she no longer had to question or justify her love for him—to herself or anyone else. He was every bit as honorable as Fearchar or John MacGillivray or Alexander Cameron, and what was more, he loved her despite their opposing politics, despite their different backgrounds, different temperaments, and that was far more than most wives could ever hope to have in their marriages.

The pounding on the door startled her out of her reverie and she answered it with an irritated yank. “I am awake. No need to bring down the—”

The appearance of the twins stopped the breath in her throat, for they stood under the glowering gray sky and looked more fearsome than usual, with muskets in their hands and broadswords strapped about their waists. They both wore pistols and dirks thrust into their belts, another dirk tucked into the garter on their right calves. They carried targes of wood and leather studded with nails, and even though it clearly threatened rain, they were not encumbered by extra lengths of plaid around their shoulders. Their bonnets had been brushed clean, and new sprigs of red whortleberry—the clan badge—were pinned to the crest. Whatever weariness they might have been feeling from the debauchery at the tavern had been replaced with the hard, bright sparkle of excitement.

“Well?” Jamie demanded. “Ye're starin' at us like as we've got three heads, no' two.”

Anne glanced over their shoulders and saw more men on the road, all of them bristling with guns and swords, pikes and axes. One of the MacCrimmon pipers was coming from the direction of the main camp, leading a hundred or more of his clansmen in a brisk march through St. Ninians. The revelers who had fallen asleep by the roadside were sitting up slowly and scratching their heads, but they seemed to know exactly what was happening and within moments staggered to their feet and were running in the opposite direction, grinning and shouting at their comrades not to kill all the English before they could arm themselves and return.

“What is happening?” Anne asked. “Where is

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