by Barbara Bard
Adam didn't have much to say to that.
“I cannot allay your fears because they are the product of idle speculation. Only Lord Flynn knows what is going on inside his head, and I would not care to pretend I know his thoughts. What I do know is that he will do anything to protect his family. The guards who have left in pursuit know this too, and I am sure they will return later in the day and everything here will go back to normal.”
Adam's face was drawn. Stephanie rolled her eyes again and placed her hands on her hips, although it seemed like there was no use arguing. Nobody else was getting involved yet, although there were murmurs and whispers being passed around all the time. It seemed as though everyone had an opinion on the matter. Indeed, Elayne was still excited, so much so in fact that she gripped Rebecca's arm tightly, digging her nails until the skin pinched. Rebecca winced and tried to push her away, but to no avail.
“This is so exciting! I never thought that being a serving girl would offer such a unique perspective on this scandal,” she said.
“I do not know what you mean.”
“Well, we are free to gossip and speculate. There is always somebody who heard something,” Elayne remarked. At that point, somebody else did indeed pipe up and say that they had some secret information. All eyes turned to him. He had beady eyes and a shifty manner. Rebecca had seen him occasionally but had never spoken to him before. She thought his name might be Owen.
“I have been in the house recently and I have heard a few different things. Of course, you are all aware of the scandal that happened with the girl pretending to be Lady Brambly,” he said.
“Well, none of us could have known about that. I still admire the gall of that girl to pretend to be a noble!” Stephanie said.
“But pretend she did, and she bent the ear of Lady Catherine. Is it so difficult to believe that the good Lady would have her head turned? I saw her face when she met her future husband. It was not the face of a lady who was excited about her prospects for the future,” Owen said.
“Nor can I blame her. I do not think I would be excited about the prospect of sharing my bed with a wrinkly old currant!” Stephanie said. Other women howled with laughter. Some, like Rebecca, flushed with embarrassment. Elayne giggled beside her. Rebecca wondered what secrets her friend knew.
“I believe Lady Catherine did indeed leave of her own accord; how could the prisoner have escaped otherwise? It must have been Lady Catherine who took him from the dungeon. There is no other alternative,” Owen said.
Chapter 5
Alastar wasn't sure how many hours had passed since he had fallen asleep, but there was a rowdy noise coming from downstairs, indicating that the inn was busy. He swung his legs out of the bed, feet landing on the floor, and rubbed his eyes. His mood was dark and gloomy as he thought about the righteous quest for vengeance he had to undertake. He thought back to some of the lessons his father had taught him as a young man, about the wisdom of patience, and tried to hold them dear. The lessons were easy to take to heart, but harder to practice.
He looked at his sword and decided to leave it in the room. He didn't want to draw any undue attention to himself or get into a fight that wasn't needed. He'd keep to himself for the evening and try to talk to Mabel, to see if she knew anything that could help him.
His boots thudded against the wooden floor. The stairs creaked under his weight as he descended them. The bar was a much different sight than what had greeted him that dawn. It was filled with people who were all drinking and feasting. Mabel looked tired, but happy. Her face was ruddy, and her clothes were soddened with sweat. Another girl, slender and slim with raven-black hair, stood with Mabel and took food out to the patrons. Stephen scurried about the place, bringing back plates and mugs. The dog was by his side.
Nobody paid much attention to Alastar as he entered the bar and sat on a stool. He smiled at Mabel, who smiled back, and poured him a drink.
“Do you always sleep all day?” she asked.
“It's been a wee while since I've had a bed as comfortable as that,” he said, taking the ale she offered him with great glee.
“If you think that bed is comfortable, then you Highlanders really do live a harder life than I thought,” she said. Then, in a lower voice, she added, “I'd keep quiet if I were you. There's not a lot of love for Highlanders around here.”
Alastar took her words under advisement and quickly glanced around the room. There were different groups of men sitting at the table. Only a few women were with them. The men were in good spirits, laughing loudly. Most of them seemed to know each other, and they were of various ages. Some were obviously kin, enjoying time together after a hard day's work, perhaps at the market or as a mason. They were mostly stocky and broad-shouldered, with weather-beaten skin and leathery hands. They were far from nobility, but they had a majesty all their own.
Alastar smiled to himself. These people didn't realize it, but they were the backbone of the English empire. Their industry and perseverance made sure that the nobility could enjoy their fine feasts and focus on waging war. Musing to himself, Alastar wondered what would happen if all these people suddenly decided that they had had enough and revolted. England certainly would be in a mess.
None of them seemed like much trouble. For this Alastar was glad, as he did not want to repeat the events of the morning. He turned back towards the bar, but focused in on their conversations, trying to listen to see if any of them worked at the estates, or had news. He hoped dearly that Declan and Catherine had made their way back to the Highlands. There were many dangers waiting for them on the way, but the two of them seemed capable of handling anything that threatened them.
However, the conversations held little of interest to Alastar, so he nursed his ale and waited for the night to pass so that he could be alone with Mabel. He was somewhat brooding. For so long he had dreamed of being free, and yet even now, after he was out of the dungeon, he still felt like a prisoner.
There were no bars around him, yet he was beholden to previous vows he had made. He could not simply walk away and begin a new life. He had to make Athelred pay. For now, Alastar was shackled by destiny.
Alastar had a bit of meat and bread with his ale as the night continued. The men in the bar became a little rowdier, letting loose their inhibitions as they sought to soothe themselves of their hard work. None of them, however, seemed to care that Mabel was working herself to the bone. It must be a hard life for her, living in this inn by herself. Alastar was about to ask her if she needed any help when his attention was distracted by the sound of a mug falling to the floor, and a girl's scream.
“Come on Penny, get on that table so we can see those pretty legs of yours dance about. We'll give you a tune,” one of the men said, and promptly started whistling. The other men clapped along and roared with glee at the prospect of the young girl dancing on the table. She looked frightened. She was shivering, and evidently didn't want to do what they were asking.
“You men calm down, or I'll throw the lot of you out,” Mabel called out from behind the bar, trying to calm them. Penny bent down to pick up the shards of the broken mug, but as she did so one of the men pinched her rump, causing her to jump and squeal.
She blushed. Alastar noticed that Mabel shook her head. The chanting grew louder and louder. The men were calling for Penny to put on a show for them. Mabel tried to shout at them to change their mind, but her words couldn't break through the cacophony of noise. The inn was filled with grinning faces, beady eyes excited at the thought of a young woman dancing for them.
Alastar was disgusted.
He wasn't the only one.
Penny hung her head. Her dark hair fell around her, shielding her face from those who wanted to see more. Saying nothing, she tried to withdraw to the safety of the bar, but as she went to move off a strong arm wrapped around her stomach and pulled her back. She yelped and landed on a man's lap. Struggling to escape, the man laughed, merely telling her that it was just a bit of fun.
/> “Let go of her,” Stephen said. The young boy stood in front of the man with his dog by his side and glared, tiny fists clenched into tight balls. The laughing faded. People wore amused smiles at the sight of the boy coming to defend Penny.
“You're a cute kid, maybe when you have a bit of hair on your chin, you'll understand what this is about. Surely, it's your bedtime now. Let us have our fun,” the man holding Penny said. Penny wore an awkward smile, trying to pretend that everything was alright, but Alastar knew it wasn't. He exchanged a glance with Mabel. She looked worried.
“Let. Her. Go!” Stephen said with all the might that he could muster, but his voice was still years away from deepening, so no fear rode on his roar. The man's mood quickly soured. At first, he had found Stephen's interruption amusing, but was tiring of these antics.
“You're outstaying your welcome,” he said, scowling at Stephen. The dog began to growl, and Alastar began to wish that he had brought his sword down with him.
“Charlie, why don't you just let the girl go. You know my son doesn't mean any harm. Let's just get back to drinking and eating, doing what you men do best,” she said, smiling, trying to lighten the mood.
Tension was already falling over the atmosphere of the inn and it was going to be difficult to reverse, especially since Charlie seemed intent on being difficult.
“You should have raised your son better. He should know not to interfere in another man's business. There's not much fun left in the world nowadays. We've already lost a lot, and if what I'm hearing is true, we're going to lose a lot more. I'm going to take what I can get when I can get it. I'll be happy to teach your son a lesson if he needs it,” Charlie said.
He showed no sign of letting Penny go. The anxiety on her face grew worse. No doubt she could feel the kind of thing that Charlie wanted from her, and it wasn't something she was willing to give. Alastar quickly scanned the room with his eyes. Some of the men looked uneasy, but none of them seemed like they were going to stand up to Charlie.
Charlie got to his feet. He kept hold of Penny though, grabbing her arm. Deep red marks spread over her pale skin.
“It's time for Penny to take a break I think,” he said, smiling greedily, and made for the door.
Alastar sighed as he pushed himself off his stool and turned to face the man.
“I dinnae think ye be wanting tae dae that,” he said. Charlie stopped in his tracks and turned around to face Alastar. He tilted his head, squinting at Alastar.
“What is your kind doing here?” Charlie asked.
“I'm just a traveler, but I dinnae like the way ye're treating that lass. Why dinnae ye sit down and I'll buy ye a fresh mug of ale, and we can all gae back tae having a good time,” Alastar suggested. Perhaps, if he had been English, the offer may have worked to dampen Charlie's anger, but Alastar wasn't English.
“You think you can come into this inn and tell us how to live our lives? You people kill our kin. Killed my son, and you think you can tell me what to do? You're a monster!” he cried and charged at Alastar.
At least Charlie's attention had been taken away from Penny, who folded her arms around her chest and pressed herself against the wall. Some of the other men rose from their seats, but Charlie told them all to sit down. As far as he was concerned Alastar was his problem.
But Alastar had other ideas. He wasn't about to be the focus of all Charlie's ire, and certainly wasn't going to go down without a fight. Alastar saw how Charlie was charging at him fueled completely by anger and waited until the last moment to nimbly step aside, using Charlie's own momentum against him, slamming him into the bar.
Charlie grunted loudly, and a huge cheer rose up as the men in the tavern realized they were witnessing a fight. Charlie staggered to his feet, looking even angrier now. He held his fists up and approached Alastar.
Chapter 6
Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief as she heard people convince themselves that Lady Catherine had acted alone. She did not like the idea of letting Lady Catherine take the blame, but she was one person who would not have to be punished for the crime of letting a criminal escape, while Rebecca would. Unless anyone asked her otherwise, Rebecca decided that it would be best to let people think that Catherine was responsible for all of it.
“You men always think that women only think with their hearts. We are not such timid creatures you know,” Stephanie said.
“Indeed,” Owen said, arching his eyebrows, “which is why I am sure that Catherine did leave. Even if she did not love this Highlander, she may well have used him as a means to escape. He would surely protect her in the woods, for I have no doubt that a savage like him would be enchanted by such a delicate beauty as the Lady Catherine. It was a very shrewd move by her. I know many of you think that she’s a harmless girl, but she’s every bit her father's daughter. Cold, calculating, and heartless.”
“What are you saying?” Adam asked, his face lined with horror at the thought that anyone would speak of a lady in that manner. Owen was in full flow now however, words flowing from his mouth like smooth honey. His eyes prowled the room. For one instant they settled on Rebecca's. She turned away, not wanting any attention to be placed upon her. Elayne had relaxed her grip on Rebecca's arm, but Rebecca actually missed the pain. It was a distraction from the turbulent feelings that swirled inside her stomach and made her feel as though she was going to throw up the contents all over the stone floor.
“How could you speak about Lady Catherine in such a manner!” Adam said, shocked.
Owen gave him a withering look. “Think about it logically. If you were in Catherine's shoes and you had been through everything she has been through, what would you do? She has been carted off to the Highlands by her brother, lied to by someone she thought was a friend, then she had to witness her brother being killed and then held prisoner. She managed to make it back home only to find that her father had agree to marry her off to a man that, with all due respect, is not going to stir a wild heart such as hers,” Owen said. Everyone was paying attention to him.
“Now then, if you wanted to get out of such a marriage what would you do? We all know that Lord Athelred would not listen to her if she were unhappy. He'd simply tell her that this was the decision and she should make the best of it. But having been through everything that she had, do you really think she would settle for a life like that? Or would she devise a plan where she could escape? She could play on the feelings of a Highlander and promise him the world, using him for protection against the elements as she made her way away from the estate. If she's saved by the guards, she has an easy excuse in saying that the Highlander made her do it, perhaps by threatening her or some such, which is a somewhat flimsy excuse, but I'm sure would be believed by her father.”
“I fail to see how this could free her of the betrothal,” Adam said dismissively. Owen smiled hungrily. The gleam in his eye told Rebecca that he liked these kinds of debates and relished the thought of putting one over on an opponent.
“Because if she returns, she can claim that the Highlander ravished her. The intended husband would not want to marry an impure wife, especially not one whose virtue has been taken away by a Highlander. She would be free, and she would have another opportunity to escape later on,” Owen said, smiling gleefully, as though he had just proven his case.
It gave them all much to think about, although Stephanie had just one last question.
“And what if she is not captured? What if she escapes with the Highlander? How is she to be rid of him?”
Owen licked his lips. “Lady Catherine is resourceful. I am sure that man would never suspect her of being able to do anything deadly. I am sure that during the night should some dagger find its way across his throat, no one would be surprised. As I said before, she has much of her father in her.”
To Rebecca's surprise many people were nodding along, agreeing with Owen's estimation of things. However, she thought that this was due to the smooth and convincing way in which he presented his thought
s rather than the basis in fact.
“He makes sense,” Elayne said.
Rebecca looked around at all of them and felt horrible that they would think of Lady Catherine in this way. She was such a kind, gentle creature. Owen was presenting her as a conniving, malevolent girl just because her father and brother showed those same qualities. Rebecca knew that they were misplaced, she had seen Catherine and Declan together. She had heard the desperation in Catherine's voice and seen how badly she wanted to help Declan escape, all because she loved him.
There was no doubt in Rebecca's mind that Catherine and Declan were truly in love, even though it seemed strange to her that Catherine could love a Highlander. Nobody else here knew the truth. Nobody else knew that Catherine had been willing to stay, and it was only because Declan had implored her to leave that she eventually went with him, even though Catherine knew that her father would send people after them.
