Frowning, he recalled that he still didn't understand the secrets he glimpsed lurking in her eyes sometimes. At Draughon, he would try to uncover them. And after he broke the betrothal to Lady Elena, he might consider… Nay, don't even think it. He pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. He was not yet ready for marriage, was he?
Too antsy to remain still, he shoved himself to his feet and strode outside. After he relieved himself behind the bushes, he washed his hands and face in the icy stream, then checked on Devil, grazing with the rest of the horses and two of the guards watching over them.
After speaking to the two men, he drew the cool morning air deeply into his lungs, trying to dispel the damnable raw emotions churning within his chest. Was this what Lachlan had experienced when he'd married Angelique, and then Dirk when he'd tried to keep away from Isobel after he'd rescued her? Damnation, no wonder they'd been grumpy and temperamental arses.
After breaking their fast on the day-old bannocks, Rebbie and their whole party quickly mounted and headed south again. Calla was withdrawn and quiet, and his irritable father looked as if he'd gotten little sleep on the hard-packed floor of the ruin. 'Twas obvious they all simply wanted the trip over with. Rebbie knew he did.
When a light rain started an hour later, it only added to their misery. But at least their wool plaids and Calla's wool cloak would shed some of the water. Getting wet wouldn't affect him much, but Calla might not be as used to it. He hoped she didn’t catch an ague.
The closer they rode to Draughon Village, the tenser he became, expecting Claybourne and his men to leap from the wood on either side of the trail and attempt to snatch Calla away from him. He didn't know what the bastard might do next, but Rebbie sensed that he wasn't finished in his efforts to get his hands on Calla.
Chapter Fifteen
Having gotten little sleep the night before, Calla caught herself nodding off behind Rebbie, despite the rain. The horse's rhythmic gait further served to lull her to sleep. She blinked hard, not daring to shake her head for fear it might start hurting again.
Giving in, she leaned her head against Rebbie's back and locked her hands in front of him. Ahh, he felt so warm and strong. She just wanted to lie on him and sleep.
A man called out and she awoke, surprised to find they were already at Draughon's gates and the low light of evening barely penetrated the thick clouds overhead.
"Oh, thank the saints," she whispered. No run-ins with Claybourne. She prayed her son was here at Draughon so she could see him immediately. Although, if he was, there was also the danger Rebbie or his father might see the family resemblance. Her stomach clutched with anxiety.
Rebbie patted her hands and, once the gates were opened, they all rode into the courtyard.
Lachlan emerged from the castle. "Glad you made it so quickly."
Rebbie leapt from Devil's back and reached up to help Calla dismount.
"Did Claybourne have my son?"
Lachlan shook his head. "Nay. He lied to you. The lad is still with his uncle, Glenhaven. We paid him a visit to be certain."
"Oh, thanks be to God," Calla whispered, relief near making her weak in the knees.
"We were unable to find Claybourne between Tummel and Draughon Village," Lachlan said. "He and his men were probably hiding out in the wood somewhere. We arrived at Bonnyridge before he did and once he showed up, I questioned him. He said he didn't have your son and that I was welcome to search his home. Which we did, and didn't find him. Then we went to Glenhaven, and I saw him with my own two eyes. A handsome lad." Lachlan smiled.
"Oh, he is. And I thank you. I must go see him soon." Calla missed her son terribly.
"I'll take you tomorrow," Rebbie said. "Once you've rested up."
A shock went through her. "Nay, you don't have to do that. I'll go in Barclay's coach."
"I want to take you." Rebbie shrugged. "I'd like to meet the lad."
Oh, dear heavens. To tell him nay would make him highly suspicious. "Very well, then," she said hesitantly. "I thank you."
He nodded and looked over her shoulder. She turned to find Angelique approaching. Happy to see her friend, Calla embraced her.
"Thank the saints you are safe. Come inside where you can put on some dry clothes and rest. You must be exhausted. Lachlan told me you received a terrible head injury in that skirmish."
"Well, aye, somewhat." She glanced back at Rebbie and he gave her a nod, along with a serious look. What was going through his mind? And what on earth would he think when he saw Jamie? Would he see his own brown eyes looking back at him?
***
Claybourne sat behind his polished oak desk and the two servants, a husband and wife named Daniel and Betty Kerns who used to work at the Stanbury Estate, were ushered into his marble-tiled office. Wide-eyed, they gaped about the room. He smiled, certain they had seen few places as splendid as his new manor house.
His plan for snatching Calla off the street hadn't worked. Nor had the kidnapping at Tummel Castle. He smirked, remembering how easy she'd been to manipulate after he'd told her he held her son captive. He hadn't of course, but the lie had almost worked. If not for that damnable Rebbinglen.
Claybourne had to find another way to bend her to his will. She must have secrets. All aristocrats did.
He'd hired an investigator to ask around and delve into Lady Stanbury's life. And who would know her better than her former servants? They'd questioned seven of them so far, but then the stout, gray-haired man before him, Daniel Kerns, had made an odd comment to the investigator in a tavern. Something about how Stanbury had been daft since it had been so easy for the lady to pull the wool over his eyes. And Betty Kerns had been Calla's own lady's maid. Holding such a personal position, she must know something about Calla that no one else did.
"Master and Mistress Kerns, thank you for agreeing to meet me on such short notice. How has work been?"
They gave him a troubled look. "We've had nay work since Lady Stanbury let us go from our positions," Daniel said.
"Ah. I feared as much. That's why I wished to help out."
The Kerns eyed him with much doubt and suspicion.
"I can offer you both positions here in my new home, and extra money besides, if you can help me with something."
They waited in silence. The man frowned. "And what is that, m'laird?"
"I need information. You both worked closely with Lady Stanbury, did you not? Especially you, Mistress Kerns."
The two exchanged a worried look then nodded hesitantly.
"I'm well aware that Lady Stanbury is not all she claims to be. She is a very secretive woman." He searched both their faces, trying to discern whether they knew some secret. Daniel gave him a knowing look but pressed his lips tight and glanced down at his wife. She sat near frozen, her brown eyes wide.
Claybourne forced a reassuring smile. "The lady tricked her husband somehow, did she not?" He prompted.
Betty Kerns blanched. The silence lengthened.
Claybourne sat back, then pulled out a drawer. He took a sack of silver coins from within and placed it on the desk. After opening the drawstring, he poured the coins into a heap. 'Twas at least two handfuls, mayhap three. The servants' eyes bulged. They were no doubt imagining how much food, clothing, and rent that much money could pay for.
"I will give you this to start with. As I said, you'll have positions here, along with room and board. You're not as young as you used to be. You worry about the future. But if you take me up on my offer, you'll have the security of a job and a home. And you'll never have to worry about where your next meal will come from." Claybourne pulled out another drawer. "I've even drawn up a contract for your positions and your pay." He slid the paper across the desk in front of them, knowing they probably couldn't read.
They glanced at it, then eyed him again. Obviously, they could read people a lot more easily than they could read contracts.
"But if you know naught…" Claybourne shrugged and scooped the money back into t
he sack.
"Wait," Daniel Kerns said.
"Nay," Betty whispered, giving her husband a pleading look. "We cannot."
"Betty, we've had nay food. Old as we are, no one will hire us. But this man is offering jobs, money, food, a place to sleep at night."
Betty burst into tears.
Claybourne forced himself to retain a straight face, a sympathetic expression, when all he wanted to do was crow in triumph.
"Aye, m'laird." Daniel cleared his throat. "The lady kept a secret from her husband."
Betty cried harder, sobbing into her handkerchief, but she no longer tried to stop her husband's words.
"Laird Stanbury, bein' an earl and all, wanted a son and heir more than anything. 'Twas why he'd married the sixteen -year-old lass. But for over two years, she didn't conceive. The earl was threatening her life. And we always liked the lady; she was verra kind to us. My wife didn't believe the lady was barren. She thought since the earl had been married twice before, with no heirs, the fault lay with him. So… we helped her."
"Helped her how?" Claybourne was near dying of curiosity. He thought he knew, but he wanted to hear it from the man's lips.
"You must understand, the earl was going to kill Lady Stanbury."
"Aye. I understand that part." But he didn't care. He simply wanted to know all the juicy details.
Daniel swallowed hard. "My wife told her she needed to find a… a more virile man to help her with the task."
"I see." Claybourne wanted to shout with elation, but he remained solemn. "And what happened?"
"We went out of town with the Stanburys to visit friends in Stirling. The lady decided 'twould be best to find a stranger she would never see again. So, acting as guard so naught would happen to her, I walked with her to a fancy inn. I waited with her inside as she watched those in the common room. She kept staring at a young man with dark hair and dark eyes. When he arose from the table, bid his friend goodnight and started up the stairs… well, he was the one she chose. A nice-looking man, a laird, judging by his clothing."
"Aha!" Could the man have been Rebbinglen? "A Highlander?"
Daniel shrugged. "He did nay dress like a Highlander."
Hmm. Well, it didn't matter who the man was.
"And did she conceive of this union?" Claybourne asked just to be certain he was getting all the facts.
"Aye. Well, we can only assume the babe she bore was from this union. She, of course, remained with Stanbury until his death."
Claybourne smiled—he couldn't help himself—and tossed the sack of silver coins to Daniel Kerns. "I thank you." He arose and bid his butler to take the Kerns below stairs and give them their duties and a room.
Alone again in the silent office, Claybourne gave a whoop of victory. Now, he would have Calla exactly where he wanted her.
***
After supper in Draughon's great hall, Rebbie approached Laird Barclay where he stood with Rebbie's father near the fireplace. He'd put off the inevitable long enough. "I need to speak with you in private."
Barclay simply glared, as he'd been doing all evening. Rebbie certainly remembered that the last time he'd seen the man, they'd had a row because Elena had been seen outside his room in the middle of the night and Barclay had made the ridiculous accusation that Rebbie had compromised the girl.
"I hope I'm invited to this meeting." Rebbie's father lifted a brow.
"Of course." Rebbie glanced across the great hall and motioned for Lachlan to join them. He didn't think Elena's father would grow violent, but who knew? He wanted someone other than his father to back him up. He might suddenly side with his friend, Barclay. Anyway, this was Lachlan's home; he had every right to be in the meeting.
Rebbie was glad Calla hadn't joined them for supper. Angelique had told him she was in her chamber, taking a nap. She'd fallen asleep behind him on the horse and he'd feared she would topple off. He was also relieved Elena hadn't made an appearance in the great hall. He truly didn't wish to speak to the lass again.
Once in the library, Lachlan closed the door and poured whisky for everyone.
"What is this about?" Barclay's gaze darted between Rebbie and his father.
Rebbie swallowed the dram of peaty whisky and enjoyed the burn, then set down the small glass. "I'm simply going to say it."
His father nodded, and Rebbie strongly felt his father's support for the first time in many years.
"Barclay, I cannot marry Lady Elena. The betrothal is off."
"What?" Barclay growled. "How dare you break the betrothal after what happened? She was in your chamber."
"We both know naught happened that night. She slipped into my room and I made her leave. End of story. If she is compromised, 'twas not me who did the deed."
"Why you…" Barclay said between clenched teeth and charged forward.
"Wait now." Rebbie's father stepped between them. "Let's keep our heads about this." He eyed Barclay sternly. "You're a good friend to me, aye?"
Barclay nodded, though he looked no less vexed.
"Do you trust me?" his father asked.
"Aye."
"Well, then. I believe my son is telling the truth. He did not compromise your daughter. 'Twas simply a misunderstanding."
"What fault do you find with her?" Barclay asked Rebbie.
"None. She's an amazing young lady and any noble laird would be lucky to marry her. We simply don't suit. I'm willing to pay a reasonable restitution for breaking the contract. What are your terms?"
Her father studied Rebbie for a moment with narrowed eyes. "Your horse."
Rebbie frowned. Surely he'd misheard. "What?"
"Your horse will do as payment."
"Umm… nay." Rebbie chuckled without humor. "I'm afraid Devil is not part of any bargain. He's not just expensive horseflesh. I've become attached to him. How about a foal he sires?"
"Two foals."
Rebbie shrugged. "Very well. 'Tis a deal." He stuck out his hand and after a long, tense moment, Barclay shook it.
Saints! He was glad that was over, and with no bloodshed.
"Elena will be devastated," Barclay said.
"I am sorry. Would you like me to talk to her?" Please, God, nay. He didn't want to come face-to-face with the lass again, but if he had to…
Her father grimaced. "'Twould probably be best if I break the news to her."
Relieved, Rebbie nodded, ready for another drink. Barclay and his father dropped into chairs before the fireplace, talking of horses, while Rebbie moved across the room toward Lachlan.
His friend must have read his mind for he handed him another dram of whisky. "That was easier than I expected," Lachlan murmured.
"Aye. Now, I have to deal with Claybourne."
"The man is a bastard, pure and simple." After Lachlan had refilled the two older men's glasses, he deposited the bottle on the table near Rebbie.
"That he is."
"What are you going to do?" Lachlan asked quietly.
"Pay him off… or kill him, if he draws a weapon. But first, I'd prefer it if Calla would bring her son here for safekeeping. I don't ken how strong Glenhaven's defenses are, but I know yours here at Draughon are impenetrable."
"Aye. Of course."
"I told her I'd take her to see the lad tomorrow. We'll simply take a coach and bring the lad here. That way, Claybourne cannot touch him."
"I'll go with you and take a couple dozen men to guard them both."
"I appreciate it."
"We'll leave just after we break our fast in the morn."
Rebbie nodded and started to leave the room behind Lachlan, but hung back to speak to his father. Barclay had already left to talk to his daughter.
"I thank you for supporting me in this decision, Da."
"Well, 'tis clear how you feel about your lady."
Rebbie frowned. "My lady?"
"Aye. Lady Stanbury… though it doesn't feel right calling her that, now does it?"
"I thought you disliked her, considering the
way you interrogated her the other night at supper."
His father shrugged. Though he didn't smile, his expression was pleasant. "She's quiet, but I sense a deep strength in her. She's a wee bit like your mother that way. I can see why you're enamored with her."
Rebbie raised his brows. Mayhap his father was starting to like Calla, though 'twas doubtful he would say so.
"Once you find that one special woman, son, you must hold onto her as long as you can. I didn't get to keep my dear Katherine long, but hopefully you will have much better luck."
***
A slamming door awoke Calla from her nap. Upon hearing sobs, she opened her eyes to the dim room, lit only by the firelight and a candle.
Elena toppled onto her bed, buried her face in the pillow and cried like a bairn who'd received a severe whipping.
"What is it?" Calla sat up, eyeing the girl. "What's wrong?"
"Rebbie," she wailed. "Father told me he's broken the betrothal. He refuses to marry me."
"Oh." Though Calla was thankful for that, guilt also crashed in on her. Was she to blame? She didn't think Rebbie would've married the lass whether Calla had been present or not. So 'haps she shouldn't feel overly guilty. "I'm sorry. You will find someone who suits you better."
"Nay," she whimpered. "There is no one else for me. I love him." She blew her nose on the hanky.
Oh good heavens. The lass didn't know what love was. She was smitten, aye, but she would recover quickly.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Come," Calla said.
A maid entered with a tray and set it on the small table. "You both missed supper, so I've brought you something."
"I don't want anything," Elena grumbled into her pillow.
Calla arose and pulled on her wrap to see what the maid had brought. "I thank you." She'd eaten little beyond an apple and a bannock since breakfast. When she'd arrived here, the maids had helped her bathe, even washing the remaining dried blood from her hair, before her nap. She'd been too sleepy to bother with eating then.
The roasted leg of fowl looked tempting. She picked it up and took a bite. "'Tis delicious."
The maid smiled and poured a goblet of wine for her.
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