Moonlight Raider

by Amanda Scott

  He saw her swallow. Then, to his dismay, tears welled in her eyes.

  With what seemed to be more effort than should have been necessary, she drew a breath at last and said, “You are not an ogre, nor are you like Will or Ned. I’m afraid it is a habit of mine to avoid looking at anyone who is angry with me.”

  “But why, lass?”

  In response, she touched the faint scar on her right temple. Then, abruptly, she shoved a strand of hair back as if that were what she had really intended to do. Still, she said nothing.

  “I would not have taken you for a sullen one,” he said provocatively.

  She grimaced. “I don’t think I am sullen,” she said. “Just wary of what I might say if I let myself speak or afraid of what might happen if I do.”

  “Is that why you run away and hide?”

  “Usually, I walk away so that I may keep my temper.”

  Keeping his tone even, he said, “When I make a suggestion for someone’s benefit, I expect that person to consider my advice as potentially beneficial and to be willing at least to discuss it. When you won’t look me in the eye or talk to me, that irks me. It is as if you cannot be honest with me.”

  She met his gaze at last. “If I look at my father or Will, or try to speak whilst they are scolding me, they declare me insolent and slap me, or worse. Will calls it teaching me to be properly submissive to their authority.”

  Through clenched teeth, he said, “Is that how you got that scar?”

  She blinked at his tone but did not look away. “It is, aye,” she said.

  As he fought to subdue his outrage, Wat wanted nothing more than to teach Will Cockburn to keep his hands off Molly. Instead, he drew a steadying breath and reminded himself that Will was beyond his touch… for now.

  For the present, he would focus on his immediate goal.

  “I agree that your kinsmen are brutes,” he said evenly. “But, if you hoped your explanation might persuade me to accept such intolerable behavior, you have missed your mark. I’ve never given you cause to avoid talking with me, Molly, and I’ll always listen to you. Sakes, I know you have courage, and I’ve given you my protection. But as things stand, any protection I provide you must be temporary, regardless of what either of us might desire. You do see that, do you not?”

  She licked her lips as if they had dried. But although she had clearly disliked suffering his rebuke and looked wary again, she did not look away.

  Molly struggled to control her tumbling thoughts and answer Wat’s question. Whatever his reason had been for this so-private discussion, she decided that he had not discovered a connection between her brothers and the villainous Rutherford.

  So what was Wat up to? Although her unfortunate reaction to his demand for private speech had angered him, and she had shivered at the iciness of his tone, she had stood up to his anger before and had told him what she thought. She had fled only because her own temper had threatened to leap beyond her control. If he had frightened her it was because she had feared he could prove she was wrong and that Will and Ned had become villains like Rutherford. If that was not so…

  “I do know that my stay here must be temporary, sir, since Father has the legal right to demand my return,” she said quietly. “I wonder why he did not demand it at once.”

  “I don’t know,” Wat said. “The Cockburn I saw two days ago was much less confident than I’d imagined him. It might have been because your brothers and their men were away. But he said only that Tuedy would demand ‘his wife’ back.”

  “And now they will know where to find me,” she said. “But since the abbot has agreed that my marriage to Tuedy was unlawful…” She paused when Wat began shaking his head. “Did he not say that?”

  His slight, knowing smile aroused her annoyance, but she suppressed it easily.

  “You are too innocent, lass,” he said soberly. “Father Abbot did say that, and someday the laws of Scotland and the Kirk may apply to men and women equally. At present, though, despite the law and the abbot, the power of the sword is still strong. If a man claims that a woman is his wife and can produce witnesses to agree with him—her own kinsmen, say—neither the law nor the Kirk will gainsay him.”

  “But surely, if I refuse to leave here—”

  “For how long?” he asked. “I ken fine that I said I would protect you for as long as you need protection. But are you willing to hide behind my walls for much of the rest of your life, riding out only when I can provide an armed escort?”

  “What choice do I have?”

  He did not reply. He just held her gaze. His expression seemed sympathetic at first, but his narrowing eyes told her he expected more of her.

  “What?” she repeated, feeling her temper rise again.

  “You know what,” he murmured.

  She wanted to look away but could not. Nor did she think that doing so would be wise after what he had said about his tolerance for such conduct.

  He looked as if he peered into her thoughts, hoping to influence them. The only solution she’d heard anyone suggest that might offer her permanent safety—

  She refused to think about that.

  “I’m willing,” he said softly. “I become more willing every day, Molly, even when your behavior disturbs me.”

  “Disturbs?” She clamped her teeth together to quiet her unruly tongue.

  A double rap sounded on the door, followed by a youthful male voice, saying clearly, “Laird, be ye in there? Father Eamon said t’ tell ye he’s here. He wants t’ ken who be a-getting married and where the wedding will be.”

  Molly’s temper ignited.

  Seeing color surge into her cheeks, and her mouth and fists tighten, Wat put a warning finger to his lips and said loudly enough for the lad at the door to hear him, “Tell Father Eamon I’ll be down directly.”

  To his relief, Molly kept silent until the lad’s footsteps faded down the stairs. But the respite did naught to ease her anger.

  “How dare you!” she exclaimed. “You had no right to summon your priest for another forced wedding, my lord. Nor will I take any part in it. You may be willing. I am not.”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks, but she dashed them aside and drew a long, shuddery breath. Her tears had not damped the fire in her eyes.

  Wat said with strained calmness, “What makes you think I’d force you?”

  “God-a-mercy, you sent for your priest, just as my father did.”

  “I am not your father, Molly. Nor would I want to be.”

  “You’re twisting my words.”

  “I am not,” he said, adding a touch of ice to his voice. “I was trying to discuss a delicate matter with you. I’ll admit that I did send for the priest, but only because my men have learned where Rutherford is, and I must ride with them today to have any chance of finding him soon. By my troth, Molly, I want only to know that if I fail to return, my name and my people will protect you.”

  Molly stared at him, her anger gone. The thought that Wat might die in his attempt to capture the reiver was terrifying. She had not even thought about his leaving, but of course he had to go. And, although she had seen enough of Jock’s not-so-wee Tammy to know he would do all he could to protect her, the thought of remaining immured at Scott’s Hall for who knew how long without Wat…

  “See here,” he said in that same chilly voice, “you must know that as long as you remain a maiden…”

  “Why do you say that?” she demanded. “How could you think that I am?”

  “Because Gram gave the abbot her word. And Gram never lies.”

  “But how could she know?”

  He frowned. “Did she not examine you?”

  “What do you mean, examine?”

  Wat’s lips parted as if to reply, but did not. A long moment passed before he said, “Are you telling me that she did not check to see if you are still intact?”

  Molly shook her head, confused. “I don’t know what you mean. She asked me to describe what happened after the wedding, an
d I did. I think she could see that I did not like talking about what Tuedy did or all that he said to me, but—”

  “Well, you’re going to talk about it now,” he interjected. “I want to know exactly what you said that persuaded her. You told me that Tuedy hit you and stripped your clothing off. What happened between then and when he left you nearly naked in your chamber, with his man outside your door? Did Tuedy take off any of his own clothes or hurt you in any other way whilst he was with you?”

  Molly’s eyes widened, her jaw dropped, and Wat saw what his grandmother had seen in her. “Lady Meg asked me that about Tuedy’s clothes, too, but he did not take any off,” she said. “Why would he when he had not yet had his supper?”

  “Then he did not—” Breaking off, recalling his conversation with her after he’d told her what the abbot had said about illegal marriages, he realized at last just how innocent she was. To destroy such innocence now would be brutal.

  Seeking a more tactful approach, he said, “When you and I talked after I’d visited Father Abbot, you expressed surprise that anyone might think a married lady could still be a maiden.”

  “Aye, sure,” she said. “I asked Janet about it, too. She said that one ceases to be a maiden when one marries, so…” She spread her hands.

  With a sigh that was as much relief as anything else, Wat said, “Molly, what do you ken of marital duties, specifically of coupling?”

  She thought for a moment. “My father and Will said I need ken no more than to obey my husband. Since my mam and both of my grandames died when I was a bairn, I never had anyone else to ask until now. Lady Meg did offer to explain them to me,” she added. “But I did not feel…” She paused, nibbling her lower lip.

  “Your husband is the one who should explain such things to you,” Wat said. “I have already said that I’m willing to be your husband, lass, but you must make that decision. Sithee, after a man and a woman are married, they do things together that only a husband and wife should do. You have horses and kine and such at Henderland. Surely you have seen how they mate.”

  Her widening eyes gave him the answer before she exclaimed, “But people don’t do such things! Do they?”

  He had not realized how tense their conversation had made him until he felt himself relax. Gently, he said, “They do, aye. I swear to you, though, it can be a most enjoyable and satisfying pastime.”

  “You swear it?” She gave him a narrow look. “But if those are things that only a husband and wife should do, then how is it that you—?”

  “Pax, Molly,” he pled, choking on a rueful laugh. “You can ask me anything you like after we marry. If we do,” he added hastily when she frowned. “For now, I just want you to understand that you do need the protection of my name.”

  Her frown deepened. “I ken fine that Will and Ned, and Tuedy as well, talk and joke about women they say they have enjoyed. But I never imagined that they were behaving like animals do, with women!”

  Wat moved closer to her. “Don’t fret about their behavior, lass, or any previous conduct of mine, come to that. If you will agree to marry me, I give you my word as a Borderer that I will be faithful to you and to you alone.”

  He put a hand on her left shoulder. When she stiffened, he put the other one on her right shoulder, gently, to see if she would pull away from him.

  She didn’t, but her beautiful face grew pale.

  Molly stared into Wat’s face, wondering what he thought. She felt dizzy at the idea of marrying him but strove to make sense of her emotions and to think.

  The strongest urge she felt was to melt into his arms and let him hold her. There was something so solid about the man, so reassuring. That primal urge nearly overpowered her. But if she cast herself into his arms, he would believe that she had cast all her doubts aside, and she had done no such thing.

  Nevertheless, the safety he offered her was more than tempting, and she suspected that rejecting it would be foolhardy. When men spoke of powerful Borderers, they usually spoke first of Clan Douglas. But amongst the other powerful clans, she had heard most often of Clan Scott.

  To be sure, they were nearer neighbors than most and her father’s rank, although older, equaled the Lord of Rankilburn’s. And, although Wat might still have to prove himself worthy of the position he had so recently inherited, Molly believed he would do so easily.

  Even so, would he be more patient with a reluctant wife than her brothers and her father had been with a recalcitrant sister and daughter? Would any man?

  Finally, searching Wat’s eyes as she spoke, she said, “I hear the words you say, sir, and I want more than I can describe to believe them. Wait,” she added, holding up a hand when he looked about to speak. “I believe that you mean them and that you are an honest man. I also know that I would be foolish to reject the offer you make me. Nevertheless, I remain uncertain.”

  “You could do much worse, I think, than to marry me.”

  “Sakes, I have already done much worse!”

  When he bit his lip, clearly struggling not to laugh, she smiled. “By heaven,” she said impulsively. “I’ll do it.”

  “Good lass,” he said. “Go and put on the gown that Aunt Rosalie gave you, and meet me on the dais. I’ll take care of everything else whilst you dress.”

  “Mercy, right now?”

  “Now,” he said firmly. “I must be away within the hour.”

  Swallowing hard, she drew a deep breath and let it out. Then, taking another breath and nodding, she turned on her heel, strode to the door, and opened it.

  Turning back, she said, “Art sure, my lord?”

  “Completely, my lady.”

  Fighting a sudden, unexpected urge to cry, she turned again, stepped through the doorway, and hurried upstairs to her chamber, wondering if she had gone mad.

  Molly had left the door ajar, so Wat went to the landing and watched her to the next turning of the stairs. Then, he went down to the hall.

  His grandmother and Janet still sat at the high table, talking. Father Eamon and Sym had joined them there.

  “Sym,” Wat said, “did you send someone to tell Jed I’ll need my gear?”

  “I did, laird, aye, and Geordie will ha’ the horses ready.” When Wat nodded, Sym added with a gesture, “Father Eamon be here, too, sir, as ye see. I didna tell him nowt save that there’d be a wedding, ’cause I didna ken what else to tell him.”

  “You can perform one straightaway, can you not, Father?”

  “I can, m’lord, if that is what you desire me to do. But where—good sakes, who—are the bride and groom?”

  “I am one. The lady Margaret Cockburn is the other.”

  “But I heard that the lady Margaret had married.”

  “She has declared that marriage forced, thereby illegal, and the Abbot of Melrose and her own priest agreed with her. Therefore, that so-called union need trouble us no longer. However, since her erstwhile husband may not be willing to accept her declaration, I have offered her the protection of my name.”

  “But—” Meeting Wat’s gaze, the priest hastily broke off. “Aye, m’lord,” he said with a nod. “I’ll see to it all as ye wish if the lady be willing.”

  “She is.” Wat glanced at his grandmother and saw her smile.

  “Have you mentioned this intent of yours to your lady mother, love?”

  “Not yet,” Wat said. “I was rather hoping that you—”

  “Don’t be daft,” Meg said. “You must tell her yourself and straightaway. Moreover, love, do not turn into an iceberg if she refuses to attend. I can tell you that her strongest argument will be that this is much too soon after your father’s death even to be thinking of bridals.”

  He nodded. “Aye, you’re right. I’ll go to her now. Jannie, if Molly comes down before I return, stay with her. Don’t let her get cold feet.”

  Janet’s eyes were sparkling, but she said, “Art sure about this, Wat? I adore Molly, and so does Bella, but—”

  “I’m sure,” Wat said. And he k
new as he said the words that he was.

  “I did not expect to find you here, Emma,” Molly said when she entered her bedchamber to find the maidservant already shaking out the bright green dress. “How did you know I would want that dress?”

  “Me da told me, m’lady. He said Lady Meg suspected ye might want it.”

  “I do,” she said. Strange but comfortable warmth filled her at the thought that Lady Meg and Sym evidently approved of Wat’s decision. That thought brought another with it, though, of Lady Scott, and Molly’s worries flooded back.

  She had told Wat she would do it, and so she would, if only because once she was Lady Scott, Tuedy could do her no more harm.

  “I’ll brush your hair first, m’lady,” Emma said, pointing to a nearby stool.

  Sitting on it, Molly put everything else out of her mind but preparing for her wedding, and soon she was ready to go back downstairs.

  Entering the hall, she saw that Bella had joined her sister and Lady Meg on the dais and that Sym and some other men had moved the high table back to make room for a makeshift altar. Father Eamon, in his clerical robes, stood aside from the others and appeared to be quietly praying.

  Molly wondered what he must think of such a wedding. But she had little time to dwell on that thought before sounds behind her from the main stair archway announced the return of Wat with his lady mother.

  Lady Scott looked shaken, and although she glanced at Molly, she looked quickly away toward the dais. The lady Rosalie stepped through the archway just then with her ever-present steward, Len Gray, a step behind her.

  Wat escorted his mother to take her place on the dais with the other ladies. Receiving a nod from Lady Meg, he could be nearly certain that the lady Lavinia—as his mother would henceforth likely style herself, instead of as the dowager Lady Scott—would remain at least until the ceremony was over.

  He had persuaded her to come easily enough, merely by letting her see that her refusal would displease him. He was nearly certain, though, that he could trust her to be kind to Molly while he was away.