Sean nodded. Richard, his cowl still on, closed all the shutters and made sure the door to the tunnel was open while Steven searched the room and retrieved three prayer books from a cabinet. Their tasks done, the three sat on a remote bench, their prayer books in hand.
What now? Sean mouthed.
Steven and Richard opened his prayer books and began to read. Sean shrugged and did the same. They waited.
His cowl around his neck, Sean dozed slouched on the bench with the prayer book open in his lap. Steven and Richard, their cowls drawn over their heads, sat erect reading.
Sean’s eyes sprang open. Richard’s icy hand covered his mouth. He motioned toward the chapel door.
Righting himself on the bench, Sean picked up the prayer book. Richard leaned over and turned it around.
“Your hand is cold,” Sean leaned and whispered in Richard’s ear. A soft chuckle escaped his lips at the private joke.
Steven tapped Sean on the back of his head, much like a mother silently scolding a wayward child, on his way to the door. Sean grabbed the back of his head and stared at Steven with innocent eyes.
“Brother...?” Darren walked into the chapel.
“Steven and Brothers Dan and Asher. How can we help you, my son?”
“Do you marry people?” Darren stood at the doorway, the tendon in his jaw clenched.
“Yes, my son. You must be new here. I know most of the people in this village. Who is to be your wife?”
Richard covered up his laugh with a loud cough.
“There, there Brother Dan. I told you to be careful of the damp,” said Sean. “It will be the death of you.” Richard nodded his thanks and coughed some more.
“Not me.” Darren surveyed the chapel and stepped closer to the door. “Lord Reeve and Lady Laura are to be married.”
“Will Lord Reeve come to speak to us or Lady Laura?” Steven asked, his head tilted and his voice innocent.
“Neither. You speak to me.” The irritation in Darren’s voice was clear. “The wedding is this afternoon.”
“Have the bans been posted—” Beneath his cowl, Richard had all he could do not to laugh.
“Yes. Make a list of what is needed.” His irritation moved to impatience.
“We don’t need much, the bride and the groom will do,” Steven said.
Laura’s bedroom door opened. Startled, she pricked her finger with her sewing needle and jumped from her chair. The rust velvet and silk material in her lap tumbled to the floor in a heap. Reeve sauntered in. Would she ever have any privacy?
“Three friars have arrived for their monthly visit.” He picked up the material at her feet.
“Why did you lock me in my room last night?”
He gave her a questioning look. “I didn’t lock you in our room. The door must have jammed.”
He gave the impression of being so sincere. She wanted to scream. This is what she had to face. Lies and denials.
He picked up her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles, then kissed her palm. Last week his kisses thrilled her to the point of making her knees weak. Now, she wanted to pull her hand away and scrub it clean.
“Come with me. We’ll plan our wedding. It won’t be a grand event. Unfortunately, Wesley and Darla won’t be in attendance.” He tucked her arm through his and walked out the door. “We’ll marry this afternoon.”
She turned and faced him. “This afternoon?”
Jamie pried open the door to the small cemetery building. Built on top of a barrow, it held the bones of previous generations. He covered his nose at the dusty, dank odor and decaying debris. Taking a fortifying breath, he pushed his way past cobwebs and other things he didn’t want to think about. He crossed to the other side of the room to the marble wall that hid the doorway to the tunnels beneath the castle.
Jamie turned toward the graveyard and glanced at Richard’s tombstone. He and Richard had found the underground maze by accident. They had locked themselves in the dungeon ante room and searched for a way out. Neither of them wanted to admit how scared they were. Countless times they had been told to stay away from the underground prison. No one came down here. No one would find them.
Their candle burnt down to almost nothing, Richard put it on the shelf. To their amazement, the flame flickered. They followed the shift in air current to its source, the hidden door. They quickly exchanged their terror for the thrill of adventure. For weeks they explored and cleaned the tunnels of debris and created their secret place. They bonded like true brothers and stayed that way no matter where life took them.
“On my honor as a Maxwell.” Jamie set back to his task. He put down the torch he brought and ran his hand along the marble wall until his finger found and pushed the latch. The marble gave way with a whisper. Gripping the edge, he pulled it back until the space was wide enough for him to squeeze through.
Jamie lit the torch with his flint and steel then climbed through the opening. He shot a look beyond the cobwebs and musty earth to the stone staircase that led to the tunnel below.
Once down the stairs, he stepped with care around fallen stones and piles of earth until he came into a modest size chamber. He was under the castle wall.
They made this their secret place. It’s where they hid from Bryce, Reeve, and Harmon and on occasion from Garth, Lisbeth, and Laura. Richard filled the time with tossing his knife, a skill that Gareth didn’t encourage. Not interested in weapons, he kept score and commandeered ale from Wesley’s brewer.
From here four tunnels branched off.
Of all the tunnels, he and Richard used the one to the nursery the most. It was the easiest to maneuver, with an added advantage, the nursery was empty. Now, he climbed up the stone steps, his shoulders rubbing against the walls. He was almost to the second level. The nursery was up ahead. He set his torch in a wall bracket and went on to the small landing in front of the door.
“We’ll marry this afternoon.”
He leaned closer to the wall. Jamie opened the peep hole, an addition he and Richard made, and peeked in. Gone were the furnishings of a child’s room. In their place were the trappings of woman’s rooms.
“This afternoon?” Laura said.
A hint of misery crossed Laura’s face before she stuck on a serene expression. He didn’t doubt he would save her from Reeve, but he didn’t know if their relationship would survive. Friendship at least, but after how badly he treated her even that was questionable.
Laura took the shawl from the chair and draped it around her shoulder. He gaped at the shadow she became. She moved like a beautiful puppet, under someone else’s control. This wasn’t the defiant feisty Laura he knew. She and Reeve went out the door.
Jamie waited for the click of the door shutting then a few more heartbeats. His fingers ran over the edge of the tunnel door and found the hidden latch. Ready to pull the small lever, the click of the door latch made him freeze. Someone entered the bedroom. He peeked in again.
Rhona hurried in and glanced around. One by one, she opened the bureau drawers and rummaged through them. She slammed the last one shut and scanned the room.
What was she looking for?
Rhona went to Laura’s chair and rummaged through the sewing basket. She hesitated, her hand on her chest. A few heartbeats passed. She pulled a piece of paper out of her bodice and stuffed it into the basket accidentally tossing the scissors on the floor.
Rhona grabbed the scissors, her fingertips touching the velvet material. Her face turned scarlet. She yanked the material off the floor and cut one strip after another until nothing was left. Her deed done, she replaced the scissors and slipped out of the room.
He had no false illusions about Rhona and the attention she gave him. Her interests didn’t lie with him. He witnessed the seductive stares she gave another man and his silent answers. Reeve was her man. If it wasn’t clear before it was now. Rhona led the reivers at Reeve’s instruction. Everything pointed to Reeve being the traitor. Everything.
He waited for
several minutes to make sure she didn’t return, then pulled the latch. The door opened. He had no idea how Richard managed to unlock the door and at the moment he didn’t care. In three strides he stood at the table. He dug deep into the basket until he found the folded note.
The map of the Scottish defense position. This was not the map he showed Mara. This was the real map of Scottish defenses. So they knew about him all along. That didn’t bother him half as much as Laura’s involvement. He stuffed the map in his shirt.
Ready to leave, he hesitated. Should he let Laura know he was close? No, she may not welcome him now. He retraced his steps to the central chamber and moved to the tunnel that led to the dungeon. If Richard had opened the nursery door, perhaps he’d opened the dungeon, too. He hurried on, propelled by the image of his men overrunning Glen Kirk from two directions.
This tunnel plunged lower than the others. It had always been a muddy place with a small stream trickling down the middle. Old crates he and Richard stored here were still stacked along the side. If he took a close look, he would probably find the muddy handprints they put on the walls.
He kept moving until the tunnel leveled out and pulled up. The steps were a crumbled mess of stones. He lowered his torch and touched the stone. Did someone dismantle the steps? The stones were polished and smooth. No signs of hammers or chisels. He stood and glanced up the staircase. Water dripped in a rutted channel down the side. Yes, water damage, but could he still get up the stairs?
He stretched to see what was ahead. Yes, there was a way over the debris to where the steps continued. Would climbing up the rest of the steps disturb the stones and bring them down? Cause a cave in?
Getting to the dungeon was a necessity. It would give his men two ways into the castle, twice the chance of success. He’d have to chance it. Jamie climbed over the debris and tested his footing until he gained the small landing at the dungeon door.
“How long do you think they’ll keep us here?” Surprised to hear voices he put his ear to the door. “Settle down. You’ll be fine.” Jamie’s head shot up. Gareth. Wesley’s soldiers? If Gareth is here, where is the family? “The guards should be back soon.”
Jamie peeked into the room. It was as dark as night. He wasted no time, found the lock and pushed the door open.
“Who’s there?”
Jamie stepped into the dungeon. With his lit torch he made his way toward the cells. If the guards were coming back he needed to be quick.
“Jamie?” said Gareth.
“Aye.” He spun toward the guard’s table and grabbed the keys.
“Hurry, the guards will be here soon,” a soldier said.
Jamie unlocked the cells.
“Stay in the cells. We don’t want the guards to sound an alarm. We’ll overpower them when they come in and lock them in the cell. We can leave the way I came in, through the tunnel and from there to the hunting lodge.”
The men mumbled their agreement. Jamie took Gareth aside.
“Where are Wesley, Darla and Lisbeth?”
“They are safe in London. I sent them one way with the majority of men and took a small group in another direction. The ploy worked.”
“Lord Jamie.” He took stock of the man who approached him. “We’re Reynold’s men. We’ll take back what’s ours, Glen Kirk. Tell us what to do.”
He searched the men’s faces, each filled with determination, loyalty, honor.
“They’re yours to command,” Gareth said. Jamie stared at the man, surprised at his suggestion. For years he strove to pattern himself after his mentor, a man who leads by example and who is loyal to his duty, to his men, and to Glen Kirk. Gareth gave him an encouraging smile.
“I know you think you’re a farmer, but there are times even a farmer is a warrior. Give them their orders.”
Jamie searched Gareth’s eyes. They were filled with trust and encouragement. He turned his attention to the men.
“Here is our plan.”
Keys jangled and four guards entered the dungeon and locked the door behind them. One of the men put their torch in a wall bracket. The guards moved in front of the cell. Before they could torment the men, Jamie doused the torch and the room plunged into darkness.
“What happened?”
Jamie, holding the lifeless torch, listened to the grunts and groans as Wesley’s men knocked out their guards.
“They’re all... asleep,” Gareth said.
In moments the torch flared into life. The guards lay unconscious inside the locked cell.
Wesley’s men filed out of the dungeon into the tunnel. Jamie closed the door behind him.
“Careful at the bottom. The last four steps have crumbled,” Gareth said.
“Gareth, you’re familiar with the tunnels?” Jamie asked.
“Don’t look so surprised. Wesley and I agreed the tunnels should be put into working order years ago. You and Richard were doing a fine job of cleaning them. We waited until you were done.”
“Richard and the men trained here from time to time. Before Reeve took the castle, the men made sure the doors were unlocked.”
Jamie shook his head. They continued down the tunnel. That’s why Richard said he’d take care of the doors.
As he passed, men opened the crates and handed out weapon.
“I never thought I’d be happy we stored weapons here. It was Richard’s idea.” Gareth pulled out a sword and shield. “I’ll get the men into all the tunnels. We’ll replace as many of Reeve’s men as we can.”
The men were already moving into the tunnels.
“Gareth, I need a man to take me to Reeve.”
“I’ll do that myself,” said Gareth. “Come, we’ll use the tunnel to the Great Hall.”
“The friars are here. Darren will call us soon.” Reeve sat near the hearth in the Great Hall while his staff arranged the room for their wedding meal.
“Thank you,” Laura said. Her voice was soft and quiet. Her tears were spent, not only for her brother, but for herself and Jamie. She stood at the window and fixed her gaze on the bailey. A brisk wind whipped through the sky. Ominous black clouds flew overhead. The place looked deserted. It was Samhain. She and Lisbeth enjoyed the bonfires on the hill and the festival in the courtyard. She closed her eyes and ached for her sister, her parents, Jamie.
The tramp of feet echoed in the silence. She scanned the battlements. Groups of soldiers were everywhere. The Portcullis was down. She clenched her fists until her nails bit into the palms. The soldiers waited for him. Over and over she repeated to herself, stay away. Was this how Celia felt? She sent Jamie to his death.
“Lord Reeve, the friars are ready,” Darren said.
“Come, Laura. I’m eager to get this done.” He held out his arm to her. There was no use hesitating. He would marry her no matter. Her hand intertwined with Reeve’s, for a moment she speculated if he held her to keep her from running away.
She walked into the Chapel. There was a beauty in its simplicity. The room was special, quiet and holy. Today it was a room like any other. He led her down the aisle. Three friars, Darren, Rhona and six guards joined them. She hesitated.
“Why is she here?” He pinched the back of her hand and pulled her down the aisle.
“Rhona’s my... guest.” Reeve laughed at his joke.
She stood with Reeve in front of the friars. Two had their cowls pulled over their heads, their hands tucked into their sleeves. Vows of Silence she remembered. Brother Steven smiled at her.
“You can begin.” Reeve waved his hand in a haphazard gesture.
“Is there any reason why these two people should not be joined in holy matrimony?” Steven asked.
“I’m sorry, am I late?” Everyone turned at the intrusion. A guard in full battle gear brought in Jamie.
“Jamie.” Laura lunged for him but Reeve pulled her back.
“He mingled with the merchants and walked in with them.” The guard said from underneath his helmet.
“I’m not surprised you joined
us. Bring him up here to the front, for a better view. I want him to see me kiss my wife.” Reeve glowed with excitement. She was numb with defeat.
Jamie gave her a sweet smile. Reeve stepped between them and blocked his view.
“I don’t know what game your lover plays,” Reeve said. The soldier delivered him to the front of the chapel. Reeve spun and shoved Jamie to the floor, then turned to her. “You understand he’s a traitor.”
“He is not.” She pushed past Reeve and rushed to Jamie’s side.
“How touching. The Parliament will think otherwise once I bring them Jamie’s body. Once The Maxwell falls, I will lay claim to Caerlaverock as your husband. The only way you two will be together is in the hereafter.”
“The Maxwell will not fall,” Laura said her hands fisted at her side, her voice firm and final. Jamie stood up.
“He plans to call us all traitors.”
She gaped at Jamie.
“He’s gone to great pains to marry you. Without a male heir, Wesley’s title and the lands associated with Glen Kirk are in question. Marrying you is his perfect answer.”
“How does that bring down The Maxwell? Nothing could bring down Herbert. His position is secure,” she said.
“He’s made Herbert appear to be a traitor who gave important defense information about Scottish positions to England. The Parliament will hang him for treason and strip the family of all their lands and titles. Married to you, he has a claim to Caerlaverock.”
“Very clever, Collins, and very brave of you to come here.”
“I’m family and always welcome. You, I’m not sure. It did take me a while to figure out why you had Rhona put the map in Laura’s things.”
“You think you know.” He straightened himself, eased his shoulders and lit his face with the whisper of a defiant smile.
“The only person who stands in your way is... me. Should anything happen to The Maxwell and his sons I’m the next in line by written decree. However, you capture me with Laura and the map, and kill us both in the name of Scotland you become a National hero. There you have it. When were you going to tell Rhona that once you had Caerlaverock you planned to expose her scheme and name her the traitor and leader of the reivers?”
The Highlander’s English Woman (The Stelton Legacy) Page 21
