by Amanda Scott
With luck, he could take his irritation out on Rutherford when he caught him.
After tidying herself, Molly went downstairs, still marveling at the feelings Wat had stirred in her and wondering if he expected her to sleep in her own bed or in his now. She entered the hall to find everyone awaiting her.
“There you are, Molly!” Bella exclaimed loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Gram would not let them serve us without you!”
In the laughter that followed that outburst, Molly wished that Wat had waited long enough at least to escort her to the high table. Reminding herself that she was now the lady of his household, she squared her shoulders and approached the dais.
To her surprise, Lady Scott stepped forward before she reached it. With a sad little smile, she extended a hand to Molly and said, “You must take your proper place now, my dear. If it pleases you, I shall take mine at your left hand. You must also call me Lavinia now, I think. I have already told the servants to address me henceforth as Lady Lavinia, because you are Lady Scott now, after all.”
Taking her ladyship’s slender hand in both of her own,” Molly said sincerely, “Madam, I hope you know that I had no thought of this marriage until Walter insisted. I certainly must not displace you. Mayhap when he returns—”
“Nay, nay, child,” Lady Lavinia said, turning her hand to give Molly’s a squeeze. “Walter would be wroth with us both if we awaited his return. He would be right to feel so, too. You do not displace me. I am pleased that he has taken a wife, and I ken fine that my beloved Robert approved of you. He told me more than once that he wished he had been able to arrange for Walter to meet you.”
“Mercy, madam, was he so set against me?”
“How could he be when he did not know you?” Lady Lavinia smiled with true warmth. “The truth is that he resisted marriage itself and the responsibilities that accompany it, because he had set his heart on winning a knighthood like his grandfather did. It was only through the greatest good fortune that he was here when his father died. He had come to seek Robert’s advice, I think. Had he not,” she added with a sigh, “then everything would have been much worse.”
Molly glanced at Lady Meg, remembering what she had said about sending for Wat. She met only Meg’s steady gaze.
Without hesitation, Molly said sincerely, “His coming home when he did was providential for all of us, madam.”
Janet and Bella insisted then on greeting their new sister with hugs, and Rosalie hugged her, too. Lady Meg beamed her own satisfaction withal, and they took their places at the high table in complete amity. Noting that Father Eamon eyed her expectantly, Molly nodded for him to say the grace before meat.
After the meal, Lady Lavinia excused herself for her usual postprandial nap.
Lady Meg invited the other ladies to retire with her to her sitting room, and Molly accepted the invitation with relief and gratitude.
She had just realized that she had no idea what she should do next.
Gathering her courage, she waited only for the ladies Meg and Rosalie to take their seats before she said to Lady Meg, “Prithee, madam, advise me. I do not want to offend anyone, but I am at a loss to know what my duties are now.”
Meg smiled warmly. “I know just how you feel, my dear. When my Wat brought me here, his parents were still alive, and neither had the least notion that he was bringing a wife home to them. His father was furious and his mother shocked to the bone. She was gey chilly to me. Your Wat inherits his temper from her.”
“I see,” Molly said. “Did she possess his kindness, too?”
“Bless her, she did,” Meg said, smiling. “My Wat left me with her almost at once, so I did what I could to please her and soon learned how kind she was. Then my good-sister, Jenny, suggested I take up residence at Raven’s Law, Wat’s peel tower in the Buck Cleuch. Although he’d been living there, he’d decided that the place was unsuitable for me and I should stay with his parents. I moved to Raven’s Law whilst he was gone, though, and began setting it in order. He was livid when he found me there,” she added, twinkling.
“But Walter doesn’t live at Raven’s Law,” Molly said.
Janet laughed, and Bella said, “Nay, just Sym’s family and some of the other men live in that peel tower now. It is not nearly as comfortable as the Hall is. You will be happier here, Molly, I promise you.”
“In any event,” Lady Meg said, “this is your home and Wat’s now, Molly, so I suggest that you let things go on as they have for a time. Get to know Agnes Ferguson, our housekeeper, and ask her to guide you. My good-mother was kind enough to show me how to go on, but Lavinia has little energy for such things.”
“Moreover,” Janet said with a twinkle, “Agnes dotes on Wat and will be delighted to tell you what he likes and how she manages the household.”
“Yes,” Meg agreed. “Soon, you will feel at home here, Molly, and will want to make changes of your own. Wat will certainly expect the pair of you to move into his father’s rooms.”
Molly could not imagine herself ousting Lady Lavinia from the bedchamber her ladyship had shared with her husband, or giving orders to Wat’s people. But she did know something about managing a household of men, so she thanked Lady Meg and moved to the window embrasure with Janet, who had brought her mending.
Taking a ripped pillow cover from Janet’s pile, Molly began unstitching the damaged end while Rosalie and Meg talked quietly nearby over their embroidery.
Bella sat near them, hemming a cambric handkerchief.
Molly heard Len Gray’s name just before Lady Meg said with a chuckle, “You must know that the poor man is in love with you, Rosalie.”
Molly and Janet exchanged a surprised look. Glancing again at Bella, Molly wondered if her own eyes were as big as the child’s were.
“Don’t be a dafty, Meg,” Rosalie said sharply. “Len Gray is my steward, that’s all. He is an excellent steward, to be sure. But that is all he is to me.”
“It may be all he is to you, but I have seen how he looks at you, my love. You must take care. If he is important to you, you don’t want to offend him, but you must make your position clear to him. What do you know of his past, after all?”
“Isn’t he an Englishman?” Bella asked, only to receive quelling looks from both ladies and from her older sister. She quickly began tying off her thread.
“He is a Scot,” Rosalie snapped. Turning back to Meg, she said, “I have nearly forty-eight years behind me, Meg. I daresay I can look after myself.”
“I meant no offense,” Meg said mildly. “But if you have failed to see—”
“There is naught to see, and I ken as much of Len Gray’s past as I need to. I would liefer discuss this no further.”
“As you wish,” Meg said. “Bella, if you have finished your hem, you may sort these threads for me. I have let them get into a tangle.”
As Bella moved to sit beside Meg’s sewing basket and draw the threads into her lap, Rosalie said quietly, “I did not mean to be discourteous, Meg. Do you think Walter will succeed in capturing Gil Rutherford? The man is a dreaded menace, but he has hitherto eluded every effort on both sides of the line to capture him.”
“It will likely take longer than Wat expects, but he will do his best to keep his promise to the King. Don’t look so worried, Molly,” she added. “Wat took forty of his lads with him, and they are good, reliable men.”
“Yes, my lady,” Molly said, looking down at her work to conceal her worry, albeit not for Wat’s safety. Rosalie’s having mentioned Gil Rutherford reminded her that she had failed to tell Wat that she suspected her brothers might know the man even if they had not abetted his reiving.
If Lady Meg’s Sir Walter had been angry merely because she had moved into Raven’s Law without his permission, how would his grandson feel if he found Will, Ned, and perhaps even Tuedy with the reiver when they captured him?
He would be angry that she had not told him of her suspicion and would not care a whit that she had heard just the na
me Gil, never Gilbert, Gib, or Rutherford. She knew him well enough to be sure he’d say she ought to have told him all the same. Even so, and little though she liked Will or Ned, they were her brothers.
But even Lady Rosalie had referred to the reiver as Gil Rutherford.
Moreover, Wat was her husband now. He had a right to expect her to be more loyal to him than to her brothers or any of their so-called friends. So, Molly wondered, was there any way she could remain faithful to Wat and to her family?
Would he believe that in the chaos of their marriage talk, their wedding, and their connubial duties, she had simply forgotten about Will and Ned? Perhaps, or perhaps not, but how likely was it that he’d capture Rutherford straightaway or that Ned and Will would be with the reiver if he did? Not likely at all… she hoped.
Rutherford had eluded capture so far, and with apparent ease. How could Wat and his men succeed quickly when so many others had failed?
The reiver could be anywhere by now. So Wat would be home again before any capture took place. She would tell him then what she suspected.
Wat and his men rode fast through the forest until they reached Borthwick Water and followed it into Teviotdale. When it turned east toward Hawick, Wat told Geordie to take Kip Graham and half of the other men and head southeast.
“I expect your chap can find the lads he left behind to follow Rutherford, can he not?” Wat added.
“Aye, sure, sir. They’ll use our usual markings,” Geordie said.
“Then get word to me when you can. I mean to keep the others north of the Teviot and head east toward Ormiston and Kelso. I’m thinking Rutherford will keep clear of Hawick and Liddesdale. If he stays south of the Teviot, he may head for Jedburgh.”
“Ye’re a-hoping to catch ’im betwixt us then, eh, laird?”
“Hoping, aye. His estates lie between Roxburgh and Melrose, so he knows all of Teviotdale well.”
Telling his men to spread out as they rode, and to keep one another in sight, Wat kept Jed Elliot with him on the highroad north of Hawick that led to Melrose.
He called a halt at dusk in a shallow vale southeast of Ashkirk, while there was still enough light to make camp. Sundown came earlier each day, and he knew the moon would rise late that night.
Ordering his men to tend their horses and eat sparingly from the provisions each carried, he made a circuit of their encampment’s environs to be sure the area hid no surprises and that the secret markings he and his men used were in place.
As he prepared to sleep, Aggie’s Pete strode through the increasing darkness toward him, his corn-colored hair subdued in the dimness. Pete was wiry with long arms and legs for his height, and was a savage brawler with a Jedburgh axe.
“I’ve set lads to watch both sides o’ the vale, laird,” Pete said. “Others will relieve ’em in two hours. But I doubt the moon will rise afore midnight.”
Wat agreed. “Rest will do us all good,” he said. “We’ll ride again when the moon’s glow appears behind the Cheviots. I hope to glean more news of Rutherford and his men before noon tomorrow.”
“Sym said the man rides wi’ just a score o’ lads on his raids,” Pete said as if he were reminding himself rather than Wat. “Still, I’m thinking we’d ha’ been wise to add some o’ Douglas’s men at Hawick to ours, if the Douglas still be there.”
“He’s at the Black Tower,” Wat said. “But I’d liefer avoid obligation to him in a task that his grace has entrusted to me. Archie Douglas disapproves of raiding unless he orders it. And, much as he ought to want to see Rutherford hanged, he likes his own life to be peaceful. His grace told me to see to Rutherford, so I will.”
“Aye, sure, laird,” Pete said. “I’ll just put me head down for a bit then.”
Bidding him goodnight, Wat lay on his back with his hands cradling his head and gazed at the sprinkling of stars beginning to appear in the dusky northern sky. He wanted to think through his plan and visualize various routes connecting areas where men had recently reported seeing Rutherford.
Before long, his thoughts drifted to Molly. Theirs was not a love match or one based, as many were, on alliance of powers. But it was a marriage.
His discovery that his lightest touch could stir her senses and that she could stir his as easily was an unlooked-for boon. It had been a strange wedding day for them both, but it had certainly been a better start than they might have had.
Lying there, thinking about her, he felt his cock stir and realized that if he let his thoughts dwell on their activities that afternoon, he would soon be aching again.
Jed’s quiet return reminded him that he needed sleep, so he cleared his mind, took a last look at the stars, and shut his eyes. Long practice as a soldier who slept wherever and whenever he could did the rest. He slept until a rustle of nearby movement brought him instantly awake to soft moonglow outlining the Cheviots.
Rising swiftly, he picked up his cloak, scattered his temporary bed of grass and leaves, and noted that Jed had already returned his own bed to its natural state and was likely saddling their horses. Wat could see Pete’s rangy figure moving to men who were slower to waken, urging them to make haste.
They were off again within minutes, and Wat munched an apple as he rode. Others had oatcakes. Some had cheese or hard biscuits, and a few had brought sliced meat or chunks of it that would keep well enough in the November chill.
The night was still dark, but the half-moon’s cap showed between two dark Cheviot peaks, lighting the way well enough for men accustomed to riding by moonlight. Before dawn, they reached Ancrum, some three miles northwest of Jedburgh and four miles south of Rutherford’s family estates on the river Tweed. There, they learned from a priest that Rutherford had not yet shown himself in the area. The news reinforced Wat’s belief that the reiver would stay east of Jed Water.
Continuing eastward along the Teviot toward Eckford, Wat sent men to scout the rolling landscape to the north whilst the rest kept their eyes on land south of the Teviot, to be sure they did not miss Rutherford by passing him. Aware that the reiver would also be sending out watchers, Wat spaced his own men well apart, in pairs here, single riders there, and one foursome.
Anyone riding toward them would see only scattered riders on any nearby road or path, which was typical traffic near the borderline by day or night.
Molly descended to the great hall Saturday morning with Emma at her heels to find a smiling Janet at the high table, chatting with Lady Rosalie.
“I’m glad you are up early,” Janet said. “But it must seem gey strange to be married less than a day and have no husband at your side.”
“Nearly everything that has happened to me this fortnight and longer has been strange,” Molly admitted. “Are you two the only other ones up?” she added as she took her place at the table. Emma was already ordering boiled eggs and toast for her from a hovering Edwin.
“Oh, no,” Rosalie said with a laugh. “Meg broke her fast an hour ago and is downstairs with your cook, arranging an appropriate celebration of your marriage to take place when Wat and the others return. Lavinia is still abed, of course, but I’m yearning for exercise. I was just persuading Janet to ride with me. You should come, too, Molly. The day promises to be a fine one, and mayhap a ride will keep you from thinking about Wat, or worrying about him.”
“I think he expected us all to stay inside the wall,” Molly said.
“Perhaps, he did,” Rosalie agreed. “But I care naught for that, because whatever may be said of the forest, Rankilburn Glen should be safe enough.”
“We could ride along the Clearburn if you like,” Janet said.
“I have seen everything that way,” Rosalie said. “My lady mother and I stayed with Meg when Robert was born, and we rode to the Buck Cleuch then.”
“But that was long ago, and Molly has never seen it,” Janet said. “It is a narrow trail, though. We won’t be able to ride fast.”
“I’d prefer a path where we can let the horses out,” Rosalie said. “Len sugge
sted riding south along the Rankilburn toward your kirk. In troth, though, I’ll accept anything that gets us beyond these walls.”
Janet said, “An ancient motte that we might visit lies not far from the kirk. Men say the motte is centuries old, but only fairies and other wee folk live there now,” she added with a grin.
“I do doubt that his lordship would approve of our leaving,” Molly said.
“He must know that we are safe in the glen,” Rosalie protested. “His people keep good watch here and would report any stranger at once.”
“That is true,” Janet said. “Moreover, Wat left no orders for us to stay inside the wall. At least, if he did, no one has told me.”
Molly nearly declared that Wat had told her that she was not to dash out into the forest while he was away. But, in the silence while Edwin set her boiled eggs and toast before her, she decided that Wat had meant the sort of “dashing” she did alone to avoid losing her temper. He had not forbidden their morning rides, and Rosalie was right. No one would interfere with them so near the Hall.
Accordingly, and meeting no objection from Lady Meg, their little party departed a half-hour later, including Emma. The maidservant, to Molly’s surprise, had followed her downstairs and out through the main entrance, taking up a brown wool cloak that lay on the porter’s bench in the entry on her way.
“Do you want to ride with us, then?” Molly asked her.
Color crept into Emma’s cheeks, but she said steadily, “Aye, m’lady. I’m meant to keep near ye.”
“Mercy, did his lordship order you to follow me about?”
“Nay, m’lady, ’twas me da said I should keep close. He said there be enemies about as might mean harm to ye. And, upstairs, Herself did give me a wee nod when ye said ye were riding out. So, I’m thinking she might ha’ thought the notion up herself. Or mayhap she and me da conjured it up betwixt ’em.”
“So, it would be useless for me to send you back, aye?” Molly said with a smile. When Emma flushed, she added, “Don’t fret, I welcome your company.”
