Page 24 of Much Ado About a Scot

“I did not say it was my life savings. ’Tis only what I had on me at the time. I was trying to help. If you would rather, I’ll send them away . . .” He turned away and took a step toward the newly arrived workers.

“Nay.” Isobel reached for his arm, stopping him. “I’m sorry. I am grateful for your help.” When he turned to face her, she continued, “It was such a surprise. That is all. With their help, we will definitely finish the harvest today. Thank you.”

“You are welcome.” He placed his hand over hers. “Now, will you go tell them what to do?”

She nodded as she pulled her fingers away from his arm. With a nod, he moved back to the row where he had left off. Still uncertain what to make of his gift, Isobel made her way to the newcomers. While she could not refuse the help he had brought, she had to wonder why he would do such a thing for her? How could he afford such an expense? In the past two days her temporary husband had proven himself an honorable man, yet there was still so much she wanted to know. He’d made her promise to ask no questions. But that did not mean she could not poke around and see if she couldn’t figure out a few of the mysteries surrounding him on her own.

He was obviously a well-trained warrior, and had more means to support himself than he initially let on. Her thoughts spun as she approached the helpers. “Welcome, and thank you for coming to help today. Those with scythes, I ask that eight of you head out to the far field and work your way back toward where we are now. The other six, I ask that you join my husband and Brodie to harvest these rows and work your way toward the others. The rest of you, come with me to help gather the rye and barley stalks into bundles.”

The sun was rising, spiking the rye and barley fields with golden splendor. Isobel breathed in the earthy scent of the land and smiled, starkly aware of the beauty around her as the helpers got to work. It was because of Xander and these people that she very well might succeed in paying back her loan to David Graham. She swallowed to ease the tightness in her throat as she got down on her knees to gather the rye into a bundle.

Did it really matter who or what Xander was if only good things came from his time here? Forcing her thoughts to the work before her, Isobel gathered the stalks into bundles at a feverish pace, hoping the hard work would help her forget the feel of his touch against her skin. A breeze stirred, touching her face and throat with its coolness, yet it did nothing to assuage the heat rising within her core.

Powerless to do anything else, she lifted her gaze and met his across the distance. Somehow, she knew he was as helpless to keep himself from looking at her as she was to keep from looking at him. She swallowed roughly as she placed another bundle upright and moved on. This would be a long, exhausting day. But perhaps tonight she would find heaven in his arms once more. The thought spurred her on until they took a break at midday.

Freya and Jamie arrived in the fields with a horse pulling a cart, neither of which belonged to her. On the wooden bed were heaping baskets of meat pies, fresh apples and pears, boiled eggs, pickled herring, cheese, bread, and a barrel of ale with a spout.

Isobel stared at the feast in amazement. It was more than they had in their larder. “Where did all this food come from?”

Freya tipped her head toward where Xander and a blond-haired man stood talking. “The brawny lad beside yer husband brought the lot with him this mornin’ and then some. We’ve enough tae feed this crowd fer a week if we need tae. He also brought this horse and cart. ’Twill come in handy fer haulin’ the grain in from the field.”

Isobel’s appreciation for the help earlier suddenly slid toward fear. The helpers, the food, the horse and cart . . . A common worker could never afford such luxuries. Who was the man she had married? “It’s all from Xander.”

“I figured as much.” Freya’s smile slipped. “I’m really gonna miss this one when he dies.”

“Freya!” Isobel glared at her cook. “That isn’t going to happen.”

“That’s what ye said last time, and Ezra still died.”

“Well, this time I am right. He’ll be safe with us, just as we will be safe with him.” Sweet Mary, she hoped she was right, but before he spent much more time in her house or in her bed, she needed to find out more about him. And if he wouldn’t tell her, then she would have to find out the information on her own. Someone in the village had to know where he’d come from or something more about Xander Godric than they let on. Tomorrow, when they were done with the harvest, she would head to the village and see what she could uncover.

*

As they broke for their midday meal, Xander and Rhys hung back from joining the others, taking advantage of the moment to speak privately. “I see you spent my money a little too well,” Xander said, eyeing the wagon filled with food.

Rhys shrugged. “You said to get what I thought would be needed.”

“I fear your efforts might have caused Isobel unease.” Xander hadn’t missed the shadow of fear that had crossed her face as she looked upon the loaded cart. “Though I’m grateful for my horse. At least now I’ll have a decent means of travel rather than by foot.”

Rhys offered him a wry smile. “And where were you thinking of traveling? You seem quite content here. Now I understand why. Your pretty little wife is quite a distraction.”

Xander frowned. “Isobel is only an added bonus. My goal is to flush out Bothwell, and you know it. When I get those dogs under control tonight, I’ll learn more.”

“You might be able to tame the dogs, but you’ll also have twenty extra people camping out between Gladmuir Hall and Dunbar Manor tonight. That’s a lot of extra eyes and ears to avoid in the darkness.”

Xander grunted his irritation. “Then I’ll wait until tomorrow for the harvest celebration. Between the two households, there will be much mingling and merriment. We’ll both have all the access we need. If Graham is harboring Bothwell, we’ll find him and send word to our brothers-in-arms.”

“When we all capture Bothwell, will we take him to Haddington to answer for his crimes of witchcraft and treason? Or take him straight to Edinburgh’s dungeon?”

“Haddington.” Xander grew still. His obligation to Isobel was far from over. “You’ll go. I have to fulfill my duty here.”

Rhys narrowed his gaze. “Your duty is to the king and to this country.”

“I know what my duty is.” Xander set his lips in a grim line as he turned his gaze on Isobel once more. He didn’t want to hurt her chances for success by leaving early, but he might not have the choice. Even if he left, he would find a way to make it up to her. He would make things right and she would understand.

Xander was still trying to convince himself of that as they worked to complete the harvest under the lamplight late into the night.

Chapter Ten