by Olivia Rae
For a long while Thomas sat still like the boulders and trees he hid his prizes under. Finally, he just shrugged.
“Well, I will not tell on you, but you must promise not to take any more things.” She grinned. “I cannot imagine what that poor fellow is doing without his other boot.”
Thomas’s tears dried. “Dinnae worry, the man was dead.”
Audrey gasped before laughter spilled from her throat. “I do hope it was not from some vile illness.”
“Nay, Master Simms was plowin’ yonder field when he grabbed his chest an’ dropped flat. I would’ve taken both his boots, but I could only get one off before his son came runnin’.”
Audrey clasped her hands over her mouth to cover her smile. The boy was indeed a scamp. “Then I believe ’tis safe to keep the boot since its owner does not need it.”
His face lit up, and he held out the ring to her. “Would you keep this safe for me?”
Even though her fingers itched to take it, Audrey leaned away from the jewel as if it had demonic powers. If she were found with this ring, she would be tossed out without a chance to explain. What would Queen Elizabeth think of that? A chill washed down Audrey’s spine. She must remember her family in England. She would not divulge Thomas’s secret. The ring was the only thing he had from his mother.
Thomas’s hand began to waver, and his lower lip began to quake once again. “Please.”
She could not deny such trust. Surely there was a better hiding place for the ring. Audrey reached out and took the jewel, slipping it into her bodice. “I will only keep it until we can find a safer hiding place.”
The boy clapped his hands and then jumped up. “I have been prayin’ for a friend, an’ now I have one.”
Her heart squeezed and softened. Starved for affection, Thomas would claim a woman of almost twenty summers as a friend. She wanted to fold him in her arms, but she did not want to scare him. A bubble of anger started brewing deep within her. Didn’t Laird Armstrong see how much his son was hurting?
Why was she surprised? The man was a cold block of ice. Lady Francis said he used to be affectionate. Bah. ’Twas nothing more than a mother seeing only good in her child and dismissing his faults. As long as she was here, Audrey vowed that Thomas would beam and laugh at least once a day, even if she had to battle the boar.
Chapter Seven
Streaks of faded orange and red spread across the sky, pronouncing the end of the day. Gavin, hot with anger, waited at the gate as the merry pair approached. Bairn was at his side, panting loudly, eager to join the foolery.
“Look, Da. Look at the tower Mistress Audrey and I built.” Thomas grinned as the early evening wind tousled his red curls. The dog barked and jumped in happy agreement.
The stick tower stood sturdy and straight in Thomas’s hands. The gaps were filled with the right amount of pitch. Little holes were carved in for a door and windows. Thomas had done a remarkable job. He had a sharp mind and nimble fingers.
A smidgen of pride pricked at Gavin’s soul before he shoved it away. Whatever skills the lad had, they did not come from being an Armstrong. Gavin grunted. “You’re late. Your gran awaits you in the hall.”
A familiar scene unfolded. The lad’s shoulders drooped while the smile faded from his lips. His chin dropped to his chest. The tower drifted from Gavin’s sight as Thomas lowered his hands. “Aye, Da,” he said before running away. Bairn whined and followed after him.
With his son gone, Gavin focused on the instigator before him. “Mistress Audrey,” he began as practiced, “I have made arrangements for you to leave in the morning.” There, done. Now to his meal. He gave the lady his back as he strode away.
“Nay.” She ran after him and grabbed his sleeve. “I cannot leave. Not yet.”
He wrestled his arm free. How dare she defy his authority. “Why not?” he snapped.
She gulped and gasped and gurgled like an old woman taking her last breath.
“Out with it, mistress. My stomach growls for a warm meal.” Gavin fisted his hands on his hips and glared at her.
“I-I just got here,” she whimpered.
“Aye, and now you are just leaving.” He spun away and marched toward the tower, nearly running over a squawking chicken.
“Please,” she cried, racing to his side. “Can you not give me a moment?”
He stopped. “Why? So you can lift your nose at how I raise my son? So you can trample my rules? So you can inflict your English ways on those who live in my tower? Nay, mistress. Dinnae expect us to change for you. We are Scottish and best you think on that when you make your way back to London.”
She blinked several times and stood, for once, straight and silent like Thomas’s tower.
“Well? Do you have anything else to say?” he barked.
A small squeak came forth. “I promise I will not question how you…” Suddenly her eyes bulged and her lips formed a perfect O. She lifted her hand to her chest where she started patting about on her breasts. Just as abruptly, the action stopped and she let out a long sigh.
Gavin let go of a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Mistress? Is there something wrong?”
“Nay… I mean…” An odd glow entered her eyes, and with a sharp cry, she fell to the ground.
Heaven help him! The place must be cursed. He knelt down next to her and started patting her hand. What malady did she suffer from? “Mistress Audrey, Mistress Audrey, can you hear me?” She did not stir, and he was helpless. Had he caused this fright with his bluster and bellowing? Would another woman suffer because of him? He picked up Audrey and cradled her in his arms. Seeing his dilemma, a servant came to his aid. “Quick, find my mother and bring her to Mistress Audrey’s chamber.”
* * *
Audrey fought to keep her eyes shut and her body limp as Laird Armstrong carried her up the stairs to her room. ’Twas not an easy feat since the side of her body bumped against his hard chest. She could feel the heat rush up her limbs. Hopefully, he would think her flushed state was caused by her faint and not by her wayward thoughts of his muscled body.
Earlier, she had been ready to apologize to him, then she realized Thomas’s ring was no longer tucked securely between her breasts. First, she feared it had landed in the dirt by her feet, but she happily discovered it lodged under her left breast. It was as if God had created the scare to give her a reason to stay. She feigned a faint.
But now what? She won a day’s reprieve, but nothing more. Once again, her boldness had gotten her into trouble. She should have stayed at court a little longer. Somewhere she had lost the ability to keep her eyes adverted, her mouth shut, and her ears open.
A shuffle of quick feet met Audrey’s ears, and a pressure on the bed told her someone sat near. Gently, a warm palm touched her forehead, followed by a click of the tongue. “Bring me a flagon of cool water and my apothecary bag,” Lady Francis ordered.
An earthy scent of pine and horse flesh floated into Audrey’s nostrils, and once again her memory tripped back to the hardness of his body against hers. God forgive her, but she craved to feel him once again.
“What ails her, Mother?” Laird Armstrong asked.
“I do not know, but methinks it is the screaming of the boar that frightened her.”
“I was not screaming. I was correcting.” His meager defense sounded laced with regret.
Audrey had to struggle to keep the corners of her mouth from turning upward.
“Go. I fear she may swoon again if she wakes to find you standing above her like a giant ogre. Go have your meal,” Lady Francis reprimanded.
An odd sensation withered in Audrey’s stomach on hearing the order. She so did want to see the planes of his chest once again.
“We dinnae need another weak English woman here,” Laird Armstrong muttered as the sound of his feet made their way to the hall.
At the same time, another rushed in. The pouring of water captured Audrey’s ears. “Bring me a wet cloth,” Lady Francis whispered to a serv
ant. “And close the door when you leave.”
The latch clicked, and a cool rag was placed on Audrey’s forehead. She stifled a gasp in order to not give away her pretense.
“Mistress Audrey, Mistress Audrey, do wake up.”
The concern in the older woman’s voice brought an ample supply of guilt to Audrey’s being. Water trickled into her eyes, causing her lids to flutter. “I am fine, Lady Francis. Fear not,” she sputtered.
Lady Francis sat back. “Thank the Lord, the boar did not frighten you away for good.” Worry clouded her eyes and deepened the burden in Audrey’s breasts.
“Nay, ’tis not what you think.” She pushed up onto her elbows. “I did not swoon. Laird Armstrong wished to send me away, and I did not know what else to do.”
“Oh child, it will take more than a faint to keep you here if my son wants you gone.” Lady Francis rose and placed the cloth back in the basin.
“As I feared.” Audrey slapped her hands on the bed. “’Tis all my fault. I keep provoking him, and the more I try to stop, the more I keep poking. I am so sorry. Unfortunately, I must leave you and Thomas on the morrow.” She sniffed, wiping her nose, hoping her act of contrition would be passed along to Gavin.
“Now, now.” Lady Francis moved to sit at the edge of the bed again. “I so would like you to stay and help Thomas…there must be a way to keep you here.” She tapped a finger to her lips. “I just need to think a bit.”
Time stretched, and Audrey looked on expectantly, but the lady did not voice a word.
All was hopeless. A shudder shook Audrey’s body. Queen Elizabeth would have her hide and that of her family. She should have paid better attention to her brother’s antics when he was around. He was the cunning and a daring spy.
“I have an idea.” Lady Francis pointed a finger in the air. “We just have to make you invaluable to my son. Surely you have some talent that can be useful to the boar?”
Blank. Audrey’s mind was as empty as a piece of parchment without a word.
“Let me see.” Lady Francis chewed on the tip of her finger. “Can you ride? Hunt? Cook delectable meals?”
With each question, Audrey’s confidence waned.
“He would not care if you had skill at sewing or weaving. Nor if you had musical talents,” Lady Francis mused.
Audrey sadly shook her head. “I have no skills that would change his decision.”
Lady Francis rose and walked to the window. “Then I fear you will be leaving us very shortly. Too bad we are not like men and have skills in weaponry, for certain he would let you stay.”
A talent from the past crept into Audrey’s brain. “That’s it!” She almost leapt from the bed. “My father was a merchant near the docks of London. He would trade in all sorts of things—fabrics, grains, and spices. He would store them in a large building near the wharf until buyers were found. It was a fun place to play.” Audrey placed her hands on her knees. “Once as a gift, my father gave my brothers daggers.”
“I did not know you had brothers,” Lady Francis said, placing her back against the wall.
“My brother Asher is a spice trader and lives far away in the east. Then there was my older brother Robert.” Audrey dropped her gaze to the coverlet, not wanting to remember his awful death in Wyatt’s Rebellion. “He died a number of years ago.”
“Oh, I am so sorry, my dear.” Lady Francis came closer to the bed.
Refusing to dwell on past hurts, Audrey turned to a brighter topic. “As children we would have great fun. They would stack up grain bags and practice tossing daggers into their centers. I begged them to let me try. Finally, they could not stand my pleading, so they did. After a while, my skill matched theirs.”
“My dear, you must be a miracle sent by God.” Lady Francis rushed over to the bed and kissed Audrey on the forehead. “If what you say is true and you have this skill, then you will be a gem worth keeping. This year the Truce prize is in our grasp.”
“The Truce prize, what is that?”
She took Audrey’s hands in hers. “Several times a year the border families, both Scottish and English, come together on a number of Truce Days. They forget about warring and reiving and make merry. But once a year they have a special wager with a series of events to test each other’s strength. There is the reiver horse race, which the Armstrongs usually win, but rarely do we excel in the other events.” Lady Francis sighed, her gaze wandering to the past. “We have not won since my husband was a young man. Of course, back then, there was much brawling. Things have become slightly more civilized now.”
A flutter of excitement swept through Audrey. She had always enjoyed watching an archery tourney. “What else do they do?”
“They have archery, wrestling, lang spear throw, a footrace, and…” Lady Francis started to giggle. “The blade toss.”
Audrey scrambled to the edge of the bed. “Truly, they have such a contest?”
“Aye.” Lady Francis rose, unable to hide her delight. “And the Armstrongs have always lost that event. If you are as good as you say you are, all we have to do is figure out a way to show your talent to Gavin. Without him knowing, of course.”
Bubbles of excitement spread through Audrey. “How will this be arranged if I am to leave in the morn?”
“Let me see.” Lady Francis started to pace. “If I could get the servants to place a butt in the courtyard…it may work.” She stopped her pace and held up her hands. “I have a plan.”
“If it allows me to stay, I would be forever grateful.” Audrey jumped from the bed.
Thunk!
She froze as the ring rolled across the floor.
“What is this?” Lady Francis picked up the jewel and brushed the dirt from the bright blue stone. She gasped. “Where did you find this?”
Chapter Eight
Words clogged Audrey’s throat as Lady Francis examined the ring’s stone. The woman’s earlier gaiety withered. Not only had Audrey’s chance to stay at Warring Tower faded, but she had betrayed Thomas’s trust.
“Answer me,” Lady Francis snapped. “Where did you find this ring?”
“I-I found it outside.” She shook her head, lying would not help her circumstance. “Thomas gave it to me.”
Dunking the ring into the basin, Lady Francis carefully washed the soil from every crevice. “That boy. I should have known.” She wiped the stone with a soft cloth. “This ring belonged to me. Given to me by…” Sorrow filled her face, then quickly receded. “When my husband died, I gave it to Gavin to give to the woman who would capture his heart. He gave it to Edlyn.”
Stabs of sadness struck Audrey’s heart. One death had caused so much pain. At every turn, she was stoking the fire. “Thomas had buried it under a tree near the river. I convinced him that was a terrible hiding place. He gave it to me for safekeeping. I am so sorry, my lady.”
Unshed tears formed in Lady Francis’s eyes. She flipped the ring over and over in her hands. “On one side of the ring, a horse is engraved. Most border men are fine horsemen. The other side”—her voice quaked—“a bluebell. I was his bonnie bluebell because of my blue eyes.”
Audrey wanted to reach out and take the woman in her arms, but her feet stuck to the floor, uncertain if the act would be accepted. “You loved your husband dearly, didn’t you?”
Lady Francis’s face filled with puzzlement. “You speak of Ian. No, not in the beginning. He was a brute with bushy eyebrows and a bark that would terrify a wolf.” She sat down on the only chair in the room. “The marriage was arranged by my father and his. Ian needed the coin, and my father needed protection for his lands…later, we came to an understanding after Gavin was born.”
“Well, now you have the ring back. I am certain once you tell Thomas why the jewel is important, he will be glad you have it.” At least, Audrey hoped he would.
Staring at the ring, Lady Francis shook her head. “Nay, he will not. To him it was his mother’s.” She held out the jewel. “You take it and keep it safe for Thomas.”
“I do not think that is wise. If I leave tomorrow, I will have to give him the ring, and I am sure he will put it back into the earth. Best you hold on to it, and together, you can find a good hiding place.” She could see a great bond being formed between grandmother and grandson.
A hint of merriment filled the older woman’s eyes. “I know of a hiding place, but what fun would there be for Thomas if I showed him? He wishes to hide things from me as well as Mistress Jonet and his father.” Lady Francis rose from her seat and held out the ring. “Please take it. Later, I will show you the hiding place. Thomas will think it is great fun.”
Audrey backed away. She had caused enough hurt this day. What would happen if the boar caught her with the ring? “Lady, I—”
“Believe me. You will not be leaving, especially after Gavin learns of your skill with the dagger.”
“Perhaps it is for the best.”
“Nay, it is not. I have not heard Thomas laugh as he did today in a long time. You are good for him, and if he gave you this ring, he trusts you. Take the jewel, and in a few days, you will prove to my son how important you are to Warring Tower.” Lady Francis placed the ring in Audrey’s palm, clasping her fingers around Audrey’s hand. “You will bring joy back to this family. I just know it.”
Or heartache. The two words plagued her. How could she spy on such a compassionate woman?
Not sharing in Lady Francis’s optimism, later that night, Audrey sat down to write to the queen. Better to let her know ahead of time and possibly soften their future meeting. But what could she say? I have failed, Your Majesty. Instead of trying to appeal to Laird Armstrong’s affections, I have harvested his rancor instead. I meddled in the rearing of his son, and he has banished me from his home.
Those words alone would convict her and her family. How could she appease the queen’s wrath? Audrey ran her fingertips over her forehead, hoping the action would bring forth the answer. None came. There was nothing she could say or do that would ease the queen’s condemnation.
