Lord Barthram looked off into space. “It’s as I feared. You forget that you’re an educated man, gone to Eton, and been introduced to the Enlightenment. Naturally you don’t believe in being cursed with bad blood, but Alana has been educated as a woman, which means little more than reading and writing. She’s heard superstitions all her life. Feared them. It’s hard to let go of one’s fears. Tis up to you to gain her trust. Be patient, my lad.”
He squeezed Gavin’s hand. “I think she cares for you more than you know, but is afraid to admit it, even to herself. She’s always seen herself as someone who’s tainted, and fears she’ll taint anyone she gets too close to. She’ll allow herself to love you only when she understands she’s the daughter of God instead of Torquil McWayre. Lead her to God, Gavin.”
“You know I have problems with God myself.”
“I do, but God has a way of pushing His children into places where they can no longer deny Him.” Barthram smiled. “Weel, go off with you. Eat hardily. You’ll need your strength.”
***
Four men rode with Gavin through the forest, pushing through the underbrush. The overcast sky sent a chill wind from the north. The weather was changing and would bring rain by nightfall. None of that mattered. Nothing could stop them now until Nye’s murderer was found.
Elspeth had given him some useful information, and he knew she spoke the truth. Of course she was only concerned about Lyulf, but Gavin was now convinced that Lyulf had met some misfortune himself, another victim instead of the culprit. Elspeth loved the man. That much was clear. Why had she never married him? Was it possible to love a man, yet not trust him?
His thoughts went to Alana. She’d shown her desire well enough last night, and when he left her bed this morning, she’d been curled up against him like a kitten. Yet instead of seeking comfort from him when he’d found her weeping, she’d refused to come out of that dark shell she’d gone into.
He wished he had his father’s wisdom, his faith in God. It would take God to hold these people together and to put down the evil-doers. He silently prayed for wisdom to face the Kerrs.
They traversed the land where a fire had burned the Cheviot Hills, leaving only a few blackened and stunted trees and shrubs. A grouping of ill-built hovels clustered on the hillside, the largest of which belonged to Essa Kerr and her sons.
Gavin couldn’t help but feel some sympathy for Essa, though it was true she lured men into depravity and enraged their women. He admitted he’d turned the other way when dealing with the problem. In truth, he couldn’t shake much condemnation at the woman. She’d been left with four lads and no way to support them.
He supposed she’d done all she’d known to do, but the lads were grown now. They should be able to work the land and support their mother.
He hoped they held some affection for her. She and her youngest, Matt, were the only bargaining chips he held at the moment.
The woman who opened the door showed her age, her poverty, and her morals. Lines etched a face that had probably once been comely. A tattered shawl hung from her shoulders, and her matted brown hair was tied to one side with a leather string.
Gavin introduced himself and his men. “We’ve come on a matter of business,” he added.
“Then ye should see me eldest son, Tor. He’ll be in the mines, since, as ye ken, the ground canna grow crops.”
“It’s you we have business with, madam.”
She shrugged one shoulder and pulled the door open, “Then come in with ye.”
The stench of the hovel assailed Gavin, and he longed to pull out his handkerchief to cover his nose, but forced himself to ignore the vile odor. “A group of women of the Carmichael clan have complained that you have…entertained their husbands here in your home.” That much was true. His man of business had brought the matter up to him a number of times, and Gavin admitted he’d tried his best to look the other way. Now it would serve his purpose to get to the truth.
Essa Kerr didn’t flinch. “And what do their husbands say?”
“Madam, these are not exactly gentlemen. You know it’s a hazard of your profession that the husbands will testify against you to save themselves.”
“And ye’ll let them?”
“I won’t be judging you, but those who will usually judge against the woman in these matters.” He braced himself to deliver the full impact of his blow. “We’ll be taking you to goal until the trial.”
Realization finally put fear into her hollow eyes. “Now, m’lord?”
“Aye, but I would have a word with your younger son, Matt, first. He’s here I hope.” He’d seen movement behind a curtain and hoped it was Matt and not one of Essa’s customers. Gavin deduced if he threatened Essa Kerr, Matt would be forced to come out to defend his mother.
His reasoning bore fruit as Matt came bounding out from behind the curtain. “Ye kenna take me ma.” His voice shook with anger, though fear showed in his eyes.
At the moment Gavin could feel nothing but pity for the young man. “We can, but I have some questions for you. How did you come to be in Gilmour Hall this morning?”
Matt’s angry tone dropped to one of shock. “I went to see Lady Vanora.”
“Lady Vanora is gone. How did you get in?”
“In the back door.” Matt sputtered. “A servant let me in.”
“A servant didn’t let you in. In fact the servants were ordered specifically not to let you in.”
Matt shook his head, but Gavin continued. “Lady Gilmour has already attested to that fact. She says her daughter gave you a key to a side door and that key is still missing. Did Lady Vanora ask you to spy on Gilmour Hall while she was away?”
“Nay…nay, I swear I doona spy.”
“What do you know about Lyulf’s disappearance?”
“I doona ken nothing.”
“Yet you told Lady Carmichael she couldn’t guess what they did to Lyulf. That rather indicates you knew, doesn’t it?”
Matt attempted bluster. “I mistook Lady Carmichael for Lady Vanora. Lady Vanora and I played jesting games all the time.”
Gavin’s keen gaze swept over the lad. “The jesting is over. We have enough evidence to charge you with Nye’s murder.”
The blood drained from Matt’s face and his voice shook. “I dinna kill anyone, m’lord. I swear upon all that’s holy.” He backed up to the wall.
“You had access to Gilmour Hall. A strip of plaid taken from the hall was used to strangle Nye.”
Matt took a moment too long before shaking his head. “That’s not true. Lady Vanora gave the plaid to yer own crofter.”
“My crofter?”
“Aye, the one with red hair and beard, McGil. Lady Vanora said he wanted the plaid for a token of Robert Gilmour. I dinna ken who killed Nye, but I know McGil killed Lyulf.”
In one long stride, Gavin reached Matt, grabbing the frightened lad by the shoulders. “How do you know that?” Gavin’s question came like a shot. He released Matt but gave him no space. If the lad tried to spin a yarn to distract Gavin from his interrogation, he’d better have a good answer.
Matt’s shoulders slumped, and he looked down at the floor. “Lady Vanora called for me. She told me she was sending Lyulf on an errand and wanted me to follow him without him seeing me. I was to tell her what happened, but she was gone when I came back.”
“What did happen?”
Matt looked up. “It was horrid, m’lord. Lyulf met McGil in the forest, then they walked along, McGil ahead like as he was showing Lyulf the way. It was easy for me to follow them, hiding behind the trees.” He paused to shudder. “McGil stopped and pointed off to the side. Lyulf stepped forward and fell into a mantrap. He screamed and I could hear his bones break.”
Gavin swallowed the violent image. “Go on.”
“Two other men ran out, and they started attacking Lyulf. I couldna take it anymore and I ran, but I know they killed him. He couldna lived through that.”
“And you didn’t get help? Didn�
�t report it?”
“I went back to tell Lady Vanora, but was told she’d left for London. I was afraid to tell anyone. Those men woulda killed me.”
Gavin motioned for the two guards to come forward. “Matt, take these men to the exact place where Lyulf was killed. After that, they’ll take you to the goal.”
“But why? I’ve told ye everything.”
“You’ll have to be held until the trial. If you’re believed then, you’ll be released.”
“What if they doona believe me?”
Gavin wanted to keep the fear alive in young Matt. “Then you’ll be hanged.”
As they left, one of the guards hung back. “Are you sure they shouldn’t be put in the castle’s dungeon instead of the goal? His brothers might gather a band and try to rescue him and their mother.”
It made sense, but Gavin had too clear an image of that wet, rat infested place. The dungeon had been sealed for decades and he refused to reopen it, nor did he have the stomach to put anyone in it. Again he wondered if he was capable of leading the clan. Was he too soft-hearted? He shook his head. “Put enough guards on the goal to insure they don’t escape.”
He was convinced the only crime Matt Kerr had committed was being stupid enough to be a pawn in Vanora’s schemes. She’d sent Lyulf to his death, something she’d prearranged with McGil, an equally stupid man.
If she were able to beguile the Kerrs and his own crofters, might she also be able to convince the king to send soldiers to interfere with the clans?
Surely not, and he prayed she wouldn’t be able to get to Rory before he got away.
Why would Vanora have wanted Lyulf murdered? It didn’t make sense. Had Lyulf threatened her? Not that it matter now. Gavin’s greatest concern was whether Elspeth would testify against her own daughter if she thought Vanora was responsible for Lyulf’s death.
Chapter 17
“Look Mina, Finella is doing quite well.” Alana beamed at her aunt who had grasped the technique of feeding the yarn through the loom while peddling the wheel. The little swatch of fabric she’d produced, as crooked and full of holes as it was, excited Finella.
“Indeed, she has m’lady. She’ll have a piece large enough for her dollie’s skirt afore long.”
Alana and Mina returned to their needlework, and within moments a knock sounded at the door. “I wonder who that might be.” Alana asked. She dropped her hoop and raised her voice. “Come in.”
Mrs. Gantry sauntered into the room, her ring of keys jingling as she moved.
“For my babe.” Finella held out her work.
The housekeeper sniffed. “His lordship has returned, m’lady. He asks you to join him below.”
Alana got to her feet and brushed stray threads from her skirt. Apprehension curled around her as she followed Mrs. Gantry. Both gladness and fear hovered over her. She was relieved that Gavin had returned but feared what he had found.
He waited for her in the drawing room, one hand propped against the wall, the other holding his head. Her heart fell. She could almost feel the weight of responsibility weighing him down. If she could only comfort him, but was she really the reason for this trouble?
If he hadna married her, Vanora wouldna ever have brought such turmoil to the clans. Did he regret marrying her? She could hardly blame him if he did.
He turned as her footfall sounded on the floor. His face was strained, his eyes bloodshot. “Can I get you anything?” she asked. How inadequate that sounded.
“Nay, Lyulf is likely dead.” He crossed the room to stare out the window.
She followed him. “How do you know?”
As he explained his confrontation with the Kerrs, she was certain he spared her much, but all kinds of horrible images passed through her mind. With a sigh, he turned to her. “Where is Elspeth?”
Elspeth? She could emphasize with her aunt. What if this had happened to Gavin? She shuddered before answering. “She’s in with Barthy.” Alana glanced at the clock that stood on the marble mantle. “She’s been in there for quite some time. Perhaps she’s reading to him. I’ll go get her.”
Alana hadn’t moved two steps when her aunt appeared in the doorway. “You’ll get who?” She must have read the pity in Gavin’s face because she put her fist to her mouth. “No…don’t tell me the worse. He’s…he’s dead, isn’t he?”
“His body hasn’t been found, but it’s likely so.”
Alana ran to Elspeth and embraced her but could think of no words of comfort. Elspeth addressed Gavin. “Who did it?” Malice dripped from the question.
“My men are still investigating.”
“I want to know. I’ll kill them myself, just let me know.”
“They’ll be tried,” Gavin said.
“Tried?” Elspeth jerked away from Alana. “They don’t deserve to be tried. Just find them and kill them. Kill them,” she shrieked, her skirt fanning out behind her as she ran from the room.
Aunt Elspeth always exited a room as dramatically as she entered one, but she had reason enough to be distressed this time.
Gavin reached Alana and put his arm around her shoulders. She held onto him. “Gavin, I’m afraid of what Vanora may be doing in London. Canna you have her brought back?”
“I’ll wait until Elspeth has calmed down and see if that might be possible.”
“Halberd told me Miriam Tynsdale is a lady-in-waiting. She could arrange for Vanora to have an audience with the king.”
“I hardly think that would happen.” Of course it could happen. He was trying to spare her further worry. And failing.
“But it might. Vanora must know we’d suspect her when those men were found dead. That’s why she left for London, doona you see?”
“Perhaps when Rory returns he’ll be able to shed some light on what Vanora is doing in London. In the meantime, we can do nothing until after the assizes.”
“What do you suggest we do in the meantime?”
He took her hand, and the heat of his strong grip sent a tingle up her arm. “I’m going to order a bath.” He spoke into her ear. “We’ll have dinner in your boudoir. I doubt Elspeth will want to dine tonight.”
Tears welled in her eyes. She knew exactly what he planned for tonight. It might take more strength than she had to resist him. “Gavin, I canna forget who I am, nor that Mrs. Kilgarney will tell the clan if…if I should have a child.”
Exasperation came into his eyes—and then, tenderness. He touched her cheek with his hand. “Alana, I won’t have you fearing to have my child. I believe we can face anything the clan throws at us. But if they cause you trouble, I’ll turn everything over to Rory and we’ll leave.”
Could she have heard him right? “What are you saying? You’re the heir. I canna let you think such a thing.” To give up his inheritance and title for her. Oh surely, he’d come to regret that in time.
“I mean it, Alana. I’m tired of you believing this superstitious nonsense. If need be, we’ll leave and go to the colonies. Start anew, seek our fortune in a new world.”
She couldna let him make such a sacrifice, but that he would was something she hugged to her. Like warm honey, love flowed. She clung to him for support, the tears spilling over. “Gavin, I doona know what to say…that you’d do that for me.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just care for me as your husband.” His voice strained like he held his breath, waiting for her reply.
She knew what he meant, and all her former resolve to stay away from him turned to mush. The horrors of the past two days fell away, leaving them alone, the only two people in the world. “I do more than care, Gavin. I love you…and…and there’s nothing I want more than to have your child.”
His fingers pressed under her chin, tilting her head back. “Then we’ll do all that’s in us to make that possible, because I love you, lass, more than I ever thought. Nothing matters more to me than your happiness.” His touch and mouth drugged her, draining her of all resistance. His lips left hers to trail slow, deliberate
kisses across her temple, chin and throat. She floated beside him up the stairs.
Gavin opened the door to her chambers and, after she’d crossed the threshold, pulled it closed.
After one more lingering kiss, Alana noticed the sun casting long shadows across the room and reluctantly left Gavin to call his valet and order his bath and dinner.
She found Mina in the small sewing room, putting things to rights. “Where is Finella?” she asked the maid.
“Lady Gilmour came to leave a message for you, and Finella began babbling about knowing where Lyulf could be found. Lady Gilmour took her away. I tried to explain that Finella dinna ken what she was saying.”
Alana opened her mouth for another question, but the words died in her throat as she heard raised voices in the hallway. Elspeth’s high pitched shrill was followed by Gavin’s low baritone.
“Find Finella and give her dinner.” After that order to her maid, Alana rushed from the room, new fears squeezing her breath.
Elspeth faced Gavin, her hands clutched in front of her. “Please Gavin, go with me. I must know. He may still live.”
“It’s almost dark, Elspeth. What could we find? And we both know Finella has no notion of what’s going on.”
“There’s a good hour of daylight yet. Mrs. Gantry told me Finella wanders about at times. She could have seen something.” Her hands fisted under her chin. “Please.”
The pathetic sight of her aunt reduced to begging propelled Alana between them. “What’s going on?”
“Finella said she saw Lyulf going into the abandoned cave on this side of the Kerr’s croft.” Gavin’s voice sounded tired. “Elspeth insists on going to check the place now, although it can wait until morning.”
“If you won’t go, I’ll go by myself.” Elspeth started to turn, but Alana reached for her arm.
“Wait, Aunt Elspeth.” She knew Gavin was right, but she dinna want her aunt to do anything foolish, and truth be told, she’d have been ready to go searching for Gavin if he were missing. “We’ll all go together in the morning. You simply canna go alone.”
The Chieftain's Choice (The Wolf Deceivers Series Book 1) Page 17
