“My cousin isnae e’en cold in his grave but a few weeks and ye have already collected yourself a new stable,” Adam said in a cold, hard voice. “But, mayhap this one isnae so new, aye?” he added with a faint nod toward Harcourt.
Joan’s gasp of shock came from behind Annys but she was more interested in the sword point touching Adam’s throat. She had not seen Harcourt move yet the man was one short step from ending Adam’s life. It was very tempting to let him, but Annys knew she would regret it as soon as the deed was done. She needed proof of Adam’s crimes against her. Without it, she and Benet would fight the charge of murder for the rest of their lives. At its weakest it would hurt them in any relationships, truces, or treaties they wished to make to better the lives of the people of Glencullaich. At its worst, it could get her neck into a hangman’s noose and leave Benet alone and unprotected. It would cause Sir Harcourt a great deal of trouble as well since it would be his sword that had drawn Adam’s blood.
“Since ye appear to have come to Glencullaich to do naught but insult me, Sir Adam,” she said, “I believe I would verra much like ye to leave. Now.”
“Ye would force me off my own family’s lands? Off MacQueen lands?”
“I would demand that ye leave my family’s lands, sir. Lands still held by a MacQueen whether ye be standing on them or nay. Lands I ken my late husband has already banished ye from once.”
For a moment she feared the man would attack her despite the sword point tickling his throat. Annys wondered if she had pushed the man too hard but could see nothing else she could do or say. To ignore such an insult to her honor, one delivered before her people and her guests, would reveal a dangerous weakness. That would cause even more trouble than she was facing now. She lightly tapped Sir Harcourt’s sword arm and he slowly pulled back his sword, but only a little.
“Ye go too far, woman,” Adam said and moved to remount his horse. “So does this mon ye call friend. Ye will regret it. Ye may trust me on that.”
Annys was too slow to shield her face with her hand when Adam and his men kicked their horses into a gallop and rode out through the gates. Dust and grit stung her eyes and made her cough. It gave her some small comfort to hear others doing the same, indicating that she was not the only one too slow to guess that Adam’s leave-taking would be as rude as his arrival. When Joan, softly cursing Adam in ways Annys would never have guessed the woman knew, pressed a cool, wet cloth into her hands, she quickly put it to use.
As soon as her eyes were clear, Annys looked at Sir Harcourt. It was irritating to see that he and his companions had obviously anticipated Adam’s petty action. All six watched Adam and his men ride away with such intensity it made her belly tighten with unease. She suspected not one of them would accept much of Sir Adam’s arrogant disrespect. They would not ignore a threat, either, and there was no question that Sir Adam had just delivered one. And this time Sir Adam had committed his crime in front of a whole bailey full of witnesses.
“His rush to your gates upon hearing of our arrival was the act of a mon who allows his anger to rule him,” said Harcourt as, once certain the gates were again well secured, he took Annys by the arm, and began to lead her back inside. “That is a weakness.”
“Doomed fools,” said Sir Nathan and winked at her before hurrying back into the great hall. “Ah, the angels smile upon me for there is more of that fine ale.”
“A mon easily pleased by the simple things in life,” Harcourt said, a hint of laughter behind his words.
Annys could not help but smile, although that pleasant touch of amusement only lightened her heart for a moment. Adam’s visit had been uncomfortable for many reasons. His anger and threats were something she now anticipated each time she saw him. It was the way he had looked at Harcourt that troubled her now. Annys had seen the glint of recognition in the man’s eyes. She just wished she could know if it was because Adam recognized Harcourt from the time he had stayed at Glencullaich or if he saw as much of Benet in the man as she did. Joan had assured her that the resemblance between Harcourt and his son was not that obvious, but Sir Adam had seen it, or thought he had. She could only hope that the man did not start flinging accusations at Harcourt, too.
She sat down, smiled at the young boy who served her some cider, and tried to ignore how pleased she was that Harcourt sat next to her. It was a foolish thing to be pleased about. She was no young maid too inexperienced to deal with a handsome man. Blushes and a flutter deep in her belly were the reactions of a virgin maid and she had not been one of those for a very long time.
Then she thought on the anger Adam had revealed, the hatred she had seen in his gaze as he had glared at her. That hatred had bloomed after Adam had looked at Harcourt. Annys could understand the anger since Adam felt he was being denied something he was entitled to. She could not understand why he would be so twisted with hatred for her, however. He had not looked at her like that before today and Benet was almost five years old, a child Adam had never believed was truly David’s despite how loudly and widely David had claimed the boy.
“I think we best keep a close watch on everything,” said Harcourt and watched all his companions nod in agreement.
“Because of the threat he made?” Annys asked.
“Aye, although I believe the threat has been there for a while. Mayhap just nay spoken so clearly or openly. There were a lot of witnesses to what he said. The mon has no patience. He wants what he wants right now. Ye have been a thorn in his side for too long.”
“David hasnae been dead that long.”
“True but we now think Sir Adam may have had a hand in that. Yet, despite that, he still cannae claim what he thinks should be his. And why is that?”
“Ah, because David married me and I gave him an heir.”
“Exactly. E’en worse, ye are refusing to cower and let fear move ye to just hand him what he demands, mayhap e’en flee this place. Ye have every intention of holding Glencullaich for your son. Now ye have brought in more men, ones he doesnae ken the strength and skill of.” Harcourt slowly shook his head. “That must be feeding his anger as weel.”
“Why would he e’er think I would just hand him my child’s inheritance and scurry away without complaint?” she asked, certain she had never done anything to give Sir Adam the idea that she was such a coward.
“It may be what he is accustomed to having women do.” He shook his head. “It does us little good to try and understand the why of his unreasonable claims and demands. All that matters to us is making verra sure he doesnae get what he wants and that he doesnae hurt anyone before we put an end to his fool game.”
“That is something I can stand behind. Joan has suggested that I write to Sir Adam’s father and tell him what the man is doing.”
Harcourt frowned and slowly tapped his fingers against the table. “Do ye think it will be that easy to solve this? That the mon’s father can stop him?”
“Nay, not truly. Yet, what harm would be done to try it?”
“Ye dinnae believe the father is making Sir Adam try and gain hold of this place?”
It was a good question, she thought as she slowly cut up an apple. “I dinnae truly ken the mon but I would think he would be here himself, making his own demands or standing right behind his son. The few times I did meet him, he was a verra forceful mon. Sir William was always demanding, always expecting a lot of favors of David, and someone ye were pleased didnae come verra often.”
“Sounds like a mon who would do his own work and nay one to hand it to a younger son. Aye, do write to the father if ye wish to. Now or later. It cannae hurt. I just wouldnae expect much help against his son. He may nay be hand in hand with Sir Adam and his plans, but what ye just said makes me think he wouldnae mind at all if his son got what he was after.”
She nodded and inwardly sighed. David had been cursed in his kinsmen. Annys had always believed that she had been but, although unfeeling and stern, her family had ne’er tried to gain any more than the marriage settlemen
t and a connection with the MacQueens through marriage. They had come to Benet’s christening, congratulated her on doing her duty, and then left. They had come to David’s funeral, suggested she make certain she did not lose what was the heir’s, and then left. She doubted her fear for her child, and herself, would be enough to bestir them to offer her any help.
David’s kin, however, had been persistent in attempting to get all they possibly could from him. One of them showed up at nearly every season claiming poor harvests, cold winters, too many mouths to feed, and all manner of disasters in order to get a donation of some food or stock from David. Cloth was another thing they were often after. She still felt David had always been too generous with those people. Finding some of what they had given his kin for sale at a market near their home had angered her, but David had continued to supply them when they asked. She began to think he had done it to keep any of them from trying to just take what they wanted.
Needing a rest from all the talk of Sir Adam, David, and the threats to her and Benet, Annys excused herself and went to the solar. A letter to Sir Adam’s father could wait. She needed to lose herself in the mindless work of mending and sewing. It could be thought cowardly of her but she did not care. For just a little while she wanted to pretend all was as it had been. Quiet, prosperous, and even happy despite the fact that her husband was a friend and not a lover.
“She doesnae like this,” murmured Nathan after Annys was gone.
“Who would?” asked Harcourt.
“I mean that she doesnae like the changes. From all I have gathered this was always a peaceful place. They have enough for their needs plus enough to sell and put some coin in their purses. They are out of the way of any army or reiver, have ne’er been in the middle of a feud, and appear to have ne’er drawn the attention of the Crown. The homes and lands are in fine shape, the people content, clean, and nay hungry. ’Tis near unreal it is so, weel, content and quiet. Then comes this fool thinking he has some claim on it all. Little troubles start to enter this wee paradise. Then we all come, weel-armed and ready to fight. Aye, I believe it is hard for her to settle into the fight that will be needed to end this.”
“Do ye think she will balk, mayhap e’en try to bargain with the mon?”
“Nay, I just think that she will need a nudge to put an end to it all. She is a clever lass. She kens weel that there really is only one way for this to end. That fool will have to die. He willnae let this go any other way.”
“True. Did ye hear if they have any allies that may be of use?”
“Nay. They have allies, but nay ones with that bond. Ne’er needed such a bond, did they. If people dinnae ride right past them, they come to the market and help fill their coffers. I havenae heard one story of any battle or feud or attack. Nay anything that doesnae begin with saying back in my father’s father’s father’s time or even further back. Which explains why the men are trained, but nay like most of us, we who live in places where trouble comes to visit now and then.”
“Nor have I heard of any trouble ere this,” said Callum. “Most of the anger at Sir Adam, and there is a lot of that, comes from how he has, weel, disturbed their lives.” Callum grinned. “’Tis nay something I have e’er confronted before.”
Harcourt sipped his wine and considered all they had told him. They were right. Glencullaich was odd in its way. It was as if the whole place had been plucked out of the midst of the world’s troubles and tucked in these hills, out of sight and out of mind. David had been well known in court circles as well as those of the learned. Yet he stayed here for most of the year, quiet and out of the way. Harcourt was not sure he would want to be so sheltered.
A tug on his shirt drew him out of his thoughts. He looked down to find Benet next to his seat, an apple in his dirty hand. The boy’s golden brown eyes peered at him through black curls that refused to stay in place.
“Can ye cut my apple with your knife, sir?” the boy asked.
Harcourt glanced at the hand Benet pointed to and realized he had been twirling his knife in his fingers as he had been thinking. He almost smiled. His mother had always smacked him on the back of the head for doing that.
“Aye, hand it over.”
“I like thin slices,” Benet said as Harcourt began to core the apple.
“Those are better for eating,” said Harcourt, placing the apple on a small plate to cut it into slices.
“Joan says I cannae run about like a stray dog anymore. She said I have to have someone stay with me all the time.”
“Ah, aye, ye do.” He nudged the plate toward Benet.
“Why?” the boy asked around a slice of apple.
“Because there is a bit of trouble here now and we dinnae wish ye to get harmed while we work to stop it.”
“’Tis just some stealing. I am nay a cow or sheep. No one would steal me.”
“They might. Best we make sure ye are nay alone and easy to steal. Aye?”
“Mayhap.”
Harcourt did not have to see the slight pout to the boy’s lips to know Benet did not like the new restrictions. “It will make your mother happy.”
“Why?”
“She willnae worry about ye as much as she is right now. It will only be for a little while and then all will be as it was before.”
“Because ye are going to gut the bastard?”
It was not easy but Harcourt ignored the choked laughter of his companions. “Best not to speak so to your mother.” When the boy nodded, he added, “We will stop Sir Adam and make him go away. That is our plan.”
Benet nodded again, grabbed up the last few slices of apple, and ran out of the hall. Harcourt shook his head. The ones who would have to watch the boy were going to have to be very alert and fast-footed. The boy did not like the idea of being restricted in any way and that would make the job of watching him even harder.
“He will fight against the leash we put on him,” said Callum.
Harcourt nodded. “Just as I was thinking. And so says Nicolas. Warn everyone picked to guard him closely. He may nay e’en slip the leash intentionally, merely out of habit. The lad has ne’er been held back because everywhere he went there were ones watching o’er him but only gently as one would do with any wee lad. Now, with someone within the clan giving aid to Sir Adam, that peaceful freedom needs to be reined in.”
“We will make certain everyone understands that,” said Nathan. “That will mean the one helping Sir Adam will ken it, too, but that may nay be a bad thing.”
Satisfied that the whole of Glencullaich would soon understand that a very close watch needed to be kept on their future laird, Harcourt decided to wander around the keep and make certain there were no weak spots. Sir Adam would not continue simply trying to push Annys into a corner, to make her walk away, for long. The time for an open attack, to take what he coveted by open force, was drawing near. Glencullaich needed to be prepared for that.
David had been a clever man and a good laird but it was soon apparent to Harcourt that the man had been too accustomed to peace. The keep was secure enough for repelling some raid by reivers but would never stand up to a determined attack. The gates were strong but he could see that the men were not well trained in the swift closing of them. The portcullis was of such fine work that it was a perfect study in the combining of strength and beauty. The works needed to lower it or raise it and secure it in place were in need of repair, however.
Harcourt was making a list in his mind as he rounded the corner of the keep and found Annys. She sat beneath a leafy bower at the far edge of the flower garden, a pleasurable spot that was a rarity in the keeps he had been to. David had boasted of it, having read of it, and even having visited one in France when he had been younger. The practical side of him saw it as a waste of space that could have been taken up with something more useful even as a part of him deeply appreciated the peace and beauty of it. He walked over to where Annys sat, moved by the sadness in her expression.
“Have ye accepted what must
be done yet?” he asked when she looked up at him.
Annys sighed. “I have accepted that we must do all that is needed to save this place from falling into Sir Adam’s greedy hands.”
“I dinnae think ye will be talking him out of trying to take it.”
“I ken it. Doesnae mean I like the truth I have to face or willnae try to do this without the spilling of blood. What I also ken is that one cannae stop Sir Adam with strength of arms without a few of the people here suffering for it. I dinnae wish for e’en one of them to spill a single drop of blood.”
“But ye must ken they are willing to fight for this place, for ye and wee Benet.”
“Och, aye, most certainly. That doesnae mean I wish to have them do so.”
She stood up, knowing her quiet time had come to an end. Doing her mending had helped some but she had suddenly needed to be out in the air and come to the garden. She realized it had helped her understand what would need to be done, and what was at risk if she lacked the courage to do it, far better than hiding in the solar. Now that moment was over.
Annys studied Harcourt, fighting to ignore the allure of him, and see him as only a warrior. He had been the right one to call to her side to help her and her people. She knew that. It annoyed her, however, that all those years away from him had not killed her attraction to him. He would be staying at Glencullaich until her troubles were over. Of that she had no doubt. The temptation of that was going to be difficult to fight. That had been yet another matter she had tried to come to some decision on but it was still fraught with confusion, which she was more than content to keep pushing aside.
“But, we will fight if we must,” she said. “It is nay something we have done much and that is what worries me.”
“We can strengthen the men’s skills. I have also just had a good look at your fortifications and seen where they can be strengthened.” He took her by the arm and walked back toward the keep with her.
Highland Guard Page 4
