Devil's Moon

by Amanda Scott

  “Aye, sure, when he was here,” she said. “We had a porter whilst Father was alive, too. After he died, whenever Rab was away, we had little need of one. We rarely had visitors other than on quarter days, and if Benjy or I went outside, we could open the door for ourselves. In the event that we did have a visitor, someone from the yard would escort him to Greenlaw. Dev, really—”

  “Go on up,” he said. “I don’t want to talk here.”

  With a sigh, she went up to the little room across from the great hall and looked around as she stepped inside, as if she’d expected someone else to be there.

  The room was stark. A wide table with a back-stool behind it faced the door. Another stool faced the table, and two three-legged stools sat against the south wall, at Dev’s left. A long arrow-slit there and a second one over the table admitted daylight.

  Shallow steps jutted from the west wall to the archer’s narrow platform, which served at present to hold a jar of quills, a tinderbox, candles, and other items within reach of anyone sitting behind the table. The only ornamental feature was a rectangular, intricately carved wooden box at the near edge of the table that held a penknife, an inkpot, a silver seal, and sticks of red wax. Its lid lay nearby, inner side up.

  “Sit down if you’d like,” Dev said.

  “Are you going to sit, too, or tower over me and bellow?” she asked.

  Irritation stirred. He did not think he ever bellowed. He had certainly not intended to bellow at her. But the look in her eyes was one that he had seen many times before on both twins and his sister Fiona. Robina was testing him. He relaxed, amused, and gestured toward the nearby back-stool. “Sit, fierceling.”

  To his dismay, her eyes brimmed with tears.

  Robina turned abruptly away toward the back-stool, raising an arm to dash away the sudden, unexpected tears. More streamed down her cheeks, though, and the last thing she wanted was to let Dev see her cry.

  The room was silent. She’d been glad when they came in that she and Ada had tidied it, because others, not to mention herself and Benjy, often left things there that they meant to take elsewhere later. None of that mattered now.

  She felt Dev gently touch her shoulder. “Robby, I’m sorry,” he said. “Perhaps we should have this discussion later.”

  She shook her head and drew a breath. “It’s not your fault,” she said, her voice still unsteady. “It’s just…” Her voice caught.

  “It’s just that Rab used to call you that when you were sulky or trying to wrap him round your thumb,” Dev said. “I should have recalled that before I spoke. But when you looked at me as you did then, you looked just as he did when he wanted to change a subject or coax a man to do something he didn’t want to do. It amazes me how much you can look like him despite being half his size and female.”

  “We were twins, after all,” she murmured.

  “Aye, sure, but he was big, brawny, and hard-muscled. And you are… not,” he finished lamely, as though he knew he might be overstepping the bounds.

  “Perhaps you had better just say what you want to say to me,” she said. “I don’t want to sit unless you do, and Benjy is waiting.”

  “Very well,” he said. “Put plainly, I don’t want you to carry your dirk because it gives you a false sense of safety. The worst you could do to any man with that weapon is to cut him. But, in a fight with anyone larger, you are the one most likely to get hurt. I’ll ask you to believe that I know what I’m saying. I have taught weaponry to many men and lads, including your reckless brother.”

  Although she knew she had lost the argument, she said quietly, “Rab did teach me how to use it.”

  “I’m not questioning that,” Dev said. “I do question the likelihood that he expected you to defend yourself with it against any angry or malicious man, let alone a warrior. Did Rab say you were skilled enough for that?”

  Much as she would have liked to, she could not claim that Rab thought she could take him, let alone Dev or any other warrior, in a fight. His teaching had made her confident that she could defend herself, though. Without that…

  “I see,” Dev said. “I mean what I say, lass. You may keep the dirk because he gave it to you, but you are not to carry it. Someone attacking or capturing you could take it and use it against you. Neither of us wants that.”

  “Is there anything else?” She winced then at the echo of her words, knowing that she had sounded sullen or as if she were trying to deflect him again.

  But he said more gently than she had expected, “Just this: I think you recall that Gyb mistook you for a milkmaid out there, Robby. That kirtle you’re wearing does look fit for the ragbag.”

  “Are you going to tell me how to dress now?”

  “No, I’m going to make sure that every man out there knows who you are and that he is to treat everyone at Coklaw with due respect. Nevertheless, you wore only that thin pink kirtle when we met in the hall last Sunday night, and now this ragged one. So you are either in desperate need of new clothing or sadly careless about your appearance. Lady Rosalie will notice such things when she arrives—”

  “Must we have her?”

  “We must. Don’t interrupt me or try to change the subject again. If you have more suitable garments, you would be wise to wear them. If you lack such clothing, tell me, and we’ll do something about it.”

  “In troth,” she said, “I rarely think about what I wear, because I so seldom see anyone who makes me think about it. Doubtless you are right, though. I disliked hearing your man say that about me. But, if you mean I should have new dresses made, I think you will find that we are short of gelt at present. I do have better garments than this one, though. I wore it because Benjy and I were going to go and see if it might be possible to plant his tree for Rab now.”

  His lips thinned, and she suspected that he disliked the very idea of the two of them going outside the wall.

  “Is there aught I should know that you have not yet told me?” she asked him. “Has someone reported raiding parties in the area?”

  He shook his head. “If anyone has, I’ve heard nowt of it. Nor has Wat. I was just thinking that I must talk with Benjy first, and then briefly with Greenlaw. But then, unless the laddie irks me again or the two discussions last long enough to take us to the midday meal, I’ll go with you. I’d like to help.”

  To his chest, she said, “Benjy and I agreed that we should do the work ourselves. Our graveyard is too far for him to go there alone, so the tree is to be in memory of Rab and a place where Benjy can visit him.”

  “You, too, I expect. Do you not want me to help?” he added bleakly.

  Her rueful gaze flew up to meet his. “I did not mean that. I wouldn’t… Oh, my wretched tongue! Now I’m the one who didn’t think. Well, I did, but I was thinking that you meant you needed to guard us, and I—”

  “Never mind, Robby,” he said. “I ken fine what you think about that. I don’t want to be your jailor. If I worry about your safety, it is because it is my duty now to do so and because I promised Rab that I would.”

  She gaped at him. “You what?”

  Chapter 8

  Sit, Robina,” Dev said testily. “If you don’t, I’m liable to shake you. I’d like to promise I won’t do anything so physical, or bellow, but we have to be able to talk to each other without fearing that we’ll break something if we say the wrong thing. I know you weren’t expecting any of this, but you simply must—”

  “We’ll get along better, Dev, if you stop giving me orders,” she interjected.

  Instead of sitting, she stepped away from him toward the wall. Taking advantage of his frowning pause, she added, “You told me that Douglas appointed you Warden of Coklaw. You said not a word about Rab having aught to do with—”

  She broke off with an odd look on her face.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I remembered something,” she said. “Naught to do with you,” she added hastily. “But you should have told me straightaway. I could have explained
that we need no more protection. With the Greenlaws and our people…” She spread her hands. “Truly, sir, Rab cannot have meant for you to live here.”

  “I told you the truth about Archie,” he said. “Perhaps I should have told you earlier that Rab made me promise to look after you, but I’ve had only two chances, and neither seemed appropriate. I thought the news would just stir more coals between us.”

  “Perhaps,” she admitted. “But you were wrong not to tell me. Good sakes, sir, you should have told Benjy and me! When, exactly, did Rab extract this promise from you?”

  “Just before he died,” he said quietly. “You know I was with him then.”

  “Aye.” The color had drained from her face, and he was sorry to awaken those memories, but he steeled himself to deal with the immediate problem. “You’ve changed the subject again,” he said. “But you should know that Rab insisted. I’d have promised him anything then, Robby. But I agree with him that you and Benjy need someone other than your people to look after you.”

  “So, the Douglas just happened to appoint you?”

  “No, he was going to appoint one of his cronies. He told me so, himself. I assured him then that the Greenlaws were enough, but he disagreed, because Coklaw is too close to the border. Would you liefer have a kinsman of his in charge here?”

  She shook her head. “But if that’s what he wanted, why did he send you?”

  “Wat Scott suggested that I was the best man for the task, because you know me and I know Coklaw,” Dev told her. “But it was my father who suggested that I talk to Wat, because he was sure that he would not want any Douglas in charge here.”

  “Because Branxholm lies so near us, aye?”

  “Aye.”

  “So you rode to the Hall, Wat agreed, and now you are our warden.”

  “I was going to the Hall, anyway, on Archie’s orders,” Dev said. “And I was not as quick to agree as you suggest. Nor did I think Archie would agree. But Wat was persuasive, so here I am. Do you dislike it so much that you want me go?”

  She looked thoughtful, as if she expected him to say more or, since she was looking distantly past him, almost as if she expected someone else to speak.

  Rab kept quiet, and Robina wondered if he was afraid that Dev, having been so close, too, might hear him if he spoke. She had hoped that Rab would say he’d never expected Dev to live with them. But she also wanted to know if Rab had referred to that exchange with Dev when he’d said, “Dev made a promise, lass.”

  At the time, she’d thought he meant only that Dev would return soon.

  Dev was waiting for a response to his question, and the truth was that if Douglas had put one of his cronies in charge of the castle, she would have had no choice. He was Coklaw’s liege lord, and although he lacked legal right to seize the castle, he did have the right—as primary protector of the Scottish Borders—to put his own man there when Coklaw’s rightful laird was only nine years old.

  Accordingly, she met Dev’s solemn gaze and said, “I wish you’d told me this before, but I’ll admit I made it difficult. I don’t like having anyone here who thinks he can order me about, but I don’t want anyone else doing so.

  “I don’t dislike you,” she added. “I dislike anyone other than Father or Rab interfering in what I do. After all, I’ve managed this household without interference since I was twelve. Next, I expect it will be Cousin Rosalie.”

  “I thought Greenlaw and his wife managed it,” Dev said.

  “Greenlaw looks after the accounts and supervises the menservants, and Ada supervises the maidservants and such details of the household as she and I deem necessary when we talk each day. Naturally, Father oversaw everything whilst he was alive. After he died, everyone deferred to Rab and to me when Rab was not here.”

  Dev regarded her silently for a long minute. His demeanor seemed relaxed now, rather than tense or angry, but she sensed that he was trying to think how he might, without force, compel her to accept his authority.

  “Sakes, you menseless wench, you’re not thinking properly.”

  So, Rab was still speaking to her, but she didn’t want to hear it. She knew what Dev would say. Biting her lower lip, she dared to hope that he might—

  “Do you recall how Greenlaw defined my position here?” he asked quietly.

  “I do,” Robina said with a sigh. “You stand in the place of the laird. In other words, you are now the person to whom everyone must defer, including me.”

  He nodded, watching her. “That is how it is and how it will be. I won’t defer to you just because you want to do as you please. Nor will I always confer with you before I make a decision. However, I do understand your dislike of the situation.”

  “Do you?”

  “Aye, you’ve made that clear. Will it help if I say I do not mean to interfere with the household? You and Mistress Greenlaw know much more than I do about what stores you have, what you need, and what maintenance is required. It all seems well run to me. I’ll expect you to warn me before you make major changes and to tell me what you need.”

  Relaxing, she said, “We’ll do that.”

  “You mentioned Lady Rosalie,” he said. “I expect we’d both be wise to wait and see if she does expect to take over before—What?”

  Robina shook her head ruefully. “I was spouting words, sir. I doubt she’ll try any such thing. Just wait till you meet her. I adore her.”

  His lips thinned, pressed together.

  “Truly,” Robina said. “She is the merriest person, but I warn you, she, too, is accustomed to taking her own path. She told me last time she was here that she enjoys being a widow, because she can make her own decisions. If someone upsets her, she just moves on to the next kinsman until things sort themselves out. I’m glad she’s coming.”

  Dev gazed morosely at her while flinging silent curses at Wat and Lady Meg. Did either one think he would find such a woman helpful in curbing Robby’s impulses?

  “You look stunned,” she said. “You need not, for you will like her, too. Men always do, except perhaps her brother, Simon. She says that he is domineering but that she has wound him round her thumb since she was a child… nearly always.”

  Dev found that information less than reassuring, but he was not one to fight his battles before time. His lips relaxed into a smile, and he said, “Then perhaps we will rub along together in peace and charity.”

  Robina chuckled, and he was glad to see the light in her eyes when she did. She said, “It would be better if we could, but I fear we’ll raise storms for a time yet. I’ll agree to talk them out, if you will.”

  “I will,” he said, “if you can acknowledge that I’ll have the final word.”

  Rolling her eyes, she said, “I know that. Don’t expect me always to be graceful about acknowledging it, though.”

  “You’d be wise to remember that I mean what I say, Robby.”

  “So do I, sir,” she said, laying emphasis on the last word.

  He pressed his lips together again but this time to keep from grinning at her.

  The door opened, and Benjy looked in. “I thought ye must ha’ forgot me, Dev. They’ll be serving our dinner anon. Mayhap ye’ll want to wait till after—?”

  “Nay, laddie, we’ll talk now. Robina and I have finished, and she needs to change her dress. You and I can talk here whilst she does that.”

  Benjy looked at Robina then, searchingly.

  With a glance at Dev that told him she understood the look as well as he did, she said, “Nay, laddie, Dev did me no harm. You should know, though, that he is taking charge here, to help look after Coklaw and us.”

  He’d meant to tell Benjy himself, but he was willing to give Robby the last word, especially since she cast him a wary smile as she left the room.

  Robina went hastily upstairs to change the ragged kirtle for something more suited to the high table. At least Dev had not ordered her to change it. Although she could not say that she had won any major points in their argument, she realized t
hat she had enjoyed crossing verbal swords with him. In truth, she had made some good points of her own.

  She hoped he wouldn’t be too hard on Benjy, although without knowing what the boy had done to stir Gyb’s ire, Dev had likely made no decision as to his fate. She would just have to trust Dev.

  Finding Corinne awaiting her in her chamber, Robina unlaced her kirtle bodice as she said, “I’ll wear the pink one now.”

  “Aye, sure, mistress,” Corinne said, taking the kirtle from the kist where it lived and shaking it out. “Did ye finish planting our Benjy’s tree?”

  Her tone was too casual, and Robina knew that any news flew swiftly through the castle. “You know we did not,” she said. “Did your friend Jem tell you all about it?”

  “Well, it were Daisy as said ye’d come back in wi’ Sir David after ye knocked that Gyb over. She said Sir David were looking as fierce as a man could look. So—”

  “I see,” Robina interjected with a stern look. “If you were hoping to learn more about what happened…” She let the words hang between them.

  “Nay, mistress,” Corinne said hastily. “I’ll just fetch a brush for your hair.”

  Satisfied, Robina said, “I expect you also know that Sir David is warden here now.”

  Corinne nodded. “Aye, Daisy said Mistress Greenlaw told her, ’cause Greenlaw told Mistress Greenlaw. I’ll wager ye’re vexed about that, too.”

  “In troth, Corinne, I am more relieved than vexed. But if I hear from anyone else that that is how I feel, I swear I’ll dismiss you to the scullery.”

  “Ye’ll no hear a peep about aught ye say to me, mistress,” Corrine said earnestly.

  “You’d be wise to see to that,” Robina retorted. “A promise is like an unpaid debt, Corinne. You pay the debt by keeping your promise.”

  Her words echoed in her own ears as she finished dressing. She had as much as promised Dev that she would deal honestly with him. Could she keep that promise while still keeping secrets from him?