Border Storm

by Amanda Scott

  Politely, Ned Rowan said, “Would you not prefer to sit in the shade of one of the tents, mistress?”

  “No, thank you,” Laurie replied. “I’d rather watch what is going on.”

  He nodded, and she was grateful. She had been afraid that he might take his master’s words to mean he could simply order her to do as he thought best.

  She had been standing for some time, watching as one man after another answered to the complaint laid against him, when she became aware of a lad standing nearby, staring at her as if he would memorize her features. He was the one who had stood with Sir Hugh and Ned Rowan to defend her.

  She smiled at him.

  Grinning, he approached at once.

  Beside her, Ned Rowan said sternly, “Mind your manners, lad. Ye’re approachin’ a lady. Make a proper leg, and dinna speak till she gives ye leave.”

  Coloring, the boy made an awkward bow, then looked at her expectantly.

  “What is your name?” Laurie asked.

  “I be Meggie’s Andrew, mistress. They say ye be wedded now to Sir Hugh.”

  “We have agreed to a handfasting,” Laurie said. “That is a bit like a wedding, generally, but not at all the same thing in our case.”

  Andrew nodded. “Brackengill hasna had a mistress since our Mistress Janet went away,” he said. “Me mother and me sister, Nancy—”

  “Dinna chatter, lad,” Ned Rowan said. “Ye’ve no cause to be plaguing Mistress Halliot.”

  “I don’t mind,” Laurie said. “Life at Brackengill will be more pleasant if I have a friend or two. Andrew can tell me as much as he likes about the place.”

  The big man frowned and glanced at Sir Hugh, but the two wardens and their deputies were busy discussing something with the jury, so there was no help there. With a sigh he looked at Laurie and said, “Ye must do as ye like, mistress, but the wee scamp is no the one I’d recommend to be telling ye about Brackengill.”

  “I do not believe he will tell me any untruths,” Laurie said with a smile.

  “I will not,” Andrew declared, drawing himself to his full height. “Me and Mistress Janet are good friends,” he confided to Laurie.

  “Are you, indeed? You must miss her now that she is living in Scotland.”

  “Oh, aye, I miss her, but—” Glancing at Ned Rowan, who had stepped away to talk to another man, Andrew put a finger alongside his nose and winked at her.

  Laurie smiled, wondering exactly what message he thought that should convey to her. She found him amusing, and while she waited for the day’s business to end, she allowed him to tell her everything he thought she should know about the place that would be her home until May returned—if she returned.

  Andrew’s description of Brackengill relayed little useful information to one who was accustomed to Aylewood. Although he described the castle as immense, insisting that its wall was the second highest he had seen, she doubted that he had seen many castles in his young life. Still, she was glad of his company, for no one else seemed inclined to speak to her.

  The day’s business ended at last with the clerk’s report, summing up the penalties imposed. Two men were summarily hanged for their offenses, and then people began to gather belongings, preparing to leave.

  Laurie saw Sir Hugh glance around, his stern gaze searching until it came to rest on her. She met it calmly, determined not to let him see how he affected her.

  She was not frightened of him—or so she had told herself frequently during the long afternoon. Still, when he turned back to speak with her father, she felt herself relax. When he turned and strode toward her, she tensed again.

  “Fetch her pony,” he said to Ned Rowan. “Halliot will show you where to find it. She will ride beside me.”

  When Rowan had gone to do his bidding, he added, “Your father agreed to send some of your belongings to Brackengill, lass. You will be glad to have more gowns to wear, at least. If there is aught you particularly desire him to remember to send, just tell me and I will see that he is informed of it at once.”

  “He did not even say good-bye to me,” Laurie said, trying to speak matter-of-factly but aware of a certain wistfulness in her tone.

  Sir Hugh said evenly, “He is apparently feeling some remorse about his part in the business, mistress, but do not judge him harshly. You presented him with a dilemma, and Scrope made it difficult for any of us to think clearly.”

  She did not like to hear him make excuses for her father, and so she said no more, waiting silently until his men brought their horses. When she moved toward hers, Sir Hugh came up behind her, catching her at the waist before she realized his intent and lifting her without apparent effort to her saddle.

  No one had done such a thing since her childhood; so clearly, he was a man who took liberties without thought. Just as soon as she could catch her breath again and think sensibly, she would have to do something about that.

  Fourteen

  So shalt thou do at my command…

  SIR HUGH AND LAURIE rode ahead of his men, and until they had crossed into England, they rode without speaking. She did not know what to say to him, but her thoughts were busy.

  She knew, as did anyone living in the Borders, that hand-fasting was a form of marriage, albeit an irregular one. Traditionally, the parties contracted to live together for a year and a day, and if no issue resulted within the period, they were at liberty to dissolve the contract. That tradition, like other irregular forms of Scottish marriage, had developed because frequently no parson or priest was available to perform a proper church wedding. Still, Laurie’s union with Sir Hugh was not normal, even for handfasting.

  She stole glances at him as they rode together, trying to decide what manner of man now controlled her life, and wondering, too, if he would try to take advantage of his authority. She did not know many gentlemen.

  Those she did know were Scottish and wielded great power over their minions. Her father was unusual in preferring peace to war. Most were as unruly as Buccleuch, and lived for raiding and battle. A few, like Sir Quinton Scott of Broadhaugh, were said to be quieter but nonetheless merry, and were ruthless when they thought it was necessary. She had never met a man of power whose will it was safe to cross, and Sir Hugh did not seem as if he would be any exception.

  He had scarcely looked at her since mounting a well-muscled bay with a white blaze on its face and long black stockings. The man’s flinty gray eyes moved constantly, however, scanning the landscape, and she noted that his men were as watchful as he was. Despite the truce, which was supposed to last until the next day’s sunrise, everyone with any sense kept an eye out for trouble.

  As they prepared to ford the River Sark at Gretna village, she saw Sir Hugh look her way at last. His glance was brief, however. Apparently satisfied that she could manage without assistance, he returned to his study of the landscape.

  When her pony’s feet were on firm ground again, Laurie looked back at Scotland. Knowing that she had left one country for another, she would not have been surprised to find the grass in England a different color, the trees more plentiful, the road better cared for. But the landscape looked the same.

  “We be in England now,” Andrew said, urging his pony up beside hers, so that she rode between him and Sir Hugh. “Men call this the Debatable Land,” he added cheerfully.

  “Andrew,” Ned Rowan called from behind them, “dinna plague the mistress, lad. Come back and ride wi’ me.”

  With an audible sigh, Andrew turned his pony aside to wait for him.

  “You have been very quiet, mistress.”

  Sir Hugh’s voice startled her, but years of concealing her feelings from her stepmother allowed Laurie to reply calmly. “You did not appear to invite conversation, sir,” she said. “Are we truly in England now?”

  “Aye, we are. And once we pass through Longtown, it will not be far to Brackengill. We should arrive shortly before nightfall.”

  “I look forward to seeing your home,” she said politely. “Meggie’s Andre
w was kind enough to tell me about it earlier.”

  “Did he?” Sir Hugh’s eyes glinted, but whether with amusement or something else, she did not know. “I’ll warrant the young scoundrel made it sound like a palace. It is no such thing, but you will be comfortable enough.”

  Laurie felt her stomach knot, and her hands gripped the reins so tightly that her fingernails dug into her palms. Staring straight ahead, avoiding Sir Hugh’s all-too-penetrating gaze, she realized that she had put off thinking about how comfortable or uncomfortable her immediate future might be.

  She had thought only of May and her distress after the false Sir John had fallen in the river and been swept away. But she did not want to think about that now, either. May was no murderess. If only she would come home and…

  “Let us ride a little ahead of these others, mistress.”

  Again, his voice seemed to invade her thoughts, startling her back to the present, but she was willing enough to ride on ahead with him.

  With a sign to his men to maintain their steady pace, Sir Hugh urged the bay to a canter, and Laurie’s pony followed its lead. When they had established some distance between themselves and the others, Sir Hugh slowed his horse to a walk again, waiting for her to draw even before he said, “We must talk, I think.”

  “Aye,” she agreed. “I own, sir, that I know nothing about being a hostage. Must I stay in your dungeon?”

  “Nay, mistress. My dungeon is no place for a lady of gentle birth. You will have a proper bedchamber, and my people will treat you kindly. Indeed, if I have your promise to give me no cause for concern, I’ll say naught to them about your true situation. They will treat you as my guest.”

  She smiled. “’Tis kind of you, sir. Mayhap I shall enjoy my visit to Brackengill as much as the laird of Buccleuch is said to have enjoyed Blackness.”

  “I would not compare you with Buccleuch, mistress. Nor would I treat him to such luxury as he enjoyed there. But regardless of what your father might think about my aunt, she is a gentlewoman and will be glad to have your company. You have naught to fear as long as you obey.”

  “As to that,” Laurie said, summoning courage, “I have no intention of disobeying, but I pray you will remember that our handfasting was not my doing.”

  “You agreed to it,” he reminded her.

  “Aye, but I had little choice. No one asked what I thought.”

  “You could have refused.”

  “Perhaps, but I could not allow them to pass a sentence of death against my sister without so much as granting her a proper trial, and you could not expect me to contradict my father’s wishes publicly, or Lord Scrope’s.”

  “In fact, mistress, you were the one who began it, by offering to stand hostage for your sister. I expect you to abide by your agreement.”

  “I did agree to stand hostage, but I did not and do not agree to share your bed, sir,” she said flatly. “Perhaps I ought to have considered from the outset, as my father did, the likelihood that any English captor might take advantage of a female hostage, but I did not. I believed that you would treat me with the honor due to my name and lineage. Was I wrong about that?”

  “I cannot imagine why you should think me so noble,” he said, giving her a look so direct that it startled her. “After all, you saw me only that one time at Aylewood and can know little about me. Or is it possible that you were spying… that is, that you saw me on some other occasion?”

  Every muscle in her body tensed sharply. He had seen her in Tarras Wood. She knew it as certainly as if he had said the words, and she could think of nothing to say in reply. Neither could she seem to look away from that stern gaze. It held hers as if the two were locked together.

  Licking suddenly dry lips, she said, “I… I do not know what you mean.”

  “Tell me this, then. How well did you know Martin Loder?”

  Surprised by the abrupt change of subject, she said without thinking, “I did not know him at all.”

  “I think you did,” he declared. “I think you knew him very well.”

  “Then you are mistaken,” she said. “I did not even know his real name. He told my sister that his name was Sir John, that he was a wealthy English knight.”

  She turned to look straight ahead, lifting her chin as she added, “To learn that he was not a knight, that he was in fact Lord Scrope’s land sergeant, came as a shock to me—and to my sister, as well. I had never seen him before that night.”

  As she said the words, Laurie felt a twinge of conscience, recalling that something about the figure standing next to May in the moonlight had seemed familiar. She suppressed the feeling, telling herself that under such circumstances almost any man in chain mail might have looked like any other. The familiarity most likely sprang from his mode of dress and accent, nothing more.

  She felt Sir Hugh’s hard gaze upon her.

  After a nerve-racking silence, he said with a dangerous edge to his voice, “We will get along better if you do not lie to me, mistress. I say that you did know him. Moreover, I believe that you knew him very well.”

  “But I didn’t!”

  “If you continue to prevaricate,” he said, his tone now sending icicles through her veins, “I swear I will examine you the moment we reach Brackengill. And furthermore, I will do so in my aunt’s presence, in order to have a reliable witness when I learn if you are truly the maiden you claim to be.”

  Dismayed, she cried, “You can’t do that! You wouldn’t!”

  “Oh, but I can and I will,” he retorted. “I have every legal right to do as I like with you. Moreover, if I must pay for any loss of innocence when I return you to your family, I certainly have the right to see if you are virgin now.”

  “Please, sir, I beg you, do not humiliate me so! I give you my word that I never knew that man in any way.”

  “But you lied a moment ago. I could see it in your face. I say that you did know him, just as I say that you had seen me before my brief visit to Aylewood.”

  “I realize that you must have seen me in the tree that day,” she admitted.

  “Aye, I did, and if you saw me, you saw Martin Loder, for he was riding at my side. But you knew that, lass. Loder knew Tarras Wood far better than any Englishman should. Will you deny that you are the one who showed him its ways?”

  “That was him—the same man that May… the… the one in the river?”

  “You know it was,” he said ruthlessly. “He rode into Tarras Wood alone, doubtless to meet you, since you were waiting for him. He did not know that I followed until I shouted. Do you deny that you shinned up that tree only because you heard me shout and knew that he was no longer alone?”

  He paused, and the truth swept over her like a flood. Her body tensed as she struggled to avoid revealing her thoughts to him.

  If the man with him that day had been Martin Loder, Loder did know the forest, and his knowledge of its secret ways had not come from her. Could May have helped the English raid Liddesdale?

  She had not considered May’s false knight before in connection with the riders in Tarras Wood the day of the raid. But now that the two incidents had crashed together in her mind and she knew the supposed Sir John was also the man with Sir Hugh, that knowledge explained the odd sense of familiarity when she had heard him speak by the river.

  Certain that her cheeks must be as red as hellfire, she swallowed carefully, trying to think of something sensible to say. She could think of nothing, however, that would divert Sir Hugh’s thoughts to a new topic.

  He said impatiently, “I did not think you were a coward.”

  “I’m not!”

  But she was. She still could not think, and his anger distressed her more than she had imagined it could. She knew it would be hard to convince him that she had not known Martin Loder, but for now, she would be content if she could just talk him out of examining her.

  Remembering that she had heard him express surprise at how well Loder knew his way, she understood why Sir Hugh suspected what he did.
But even if she could persuade him of his error, would he not instantly suspect what she now suspected about the source of Loder’s knowledge?

  May rarely, if ever, rode out alone, and Laurie doubted that she would have ridden into Tarras Wood without a companion. But that would not matter to a jury. Just the suspicion that May might have helped Loder would be another damning piece of evidence against her if… when she returned to stand her trial.

  Drawing a deep breath, Laurie said earnestly, “I swear to you, sir, by all that is holy, until you told me, I did not know that the two men were one and the same. I only just guessed a few moments ago that you saw me that day in the forest.”

  “I thought you a child,” he said grimly. “You still look innocent enough, but ’tis plain that you are more knowledgeable than you look.”

  “I am not what you think, but neither am I a child,” she said, adding wistfully, “If I were, perhaps you would recognize my innocence more easily.”

  More to give herself a respite than for any other reason, she added curiously, “When you shot at the boar, did you intend to frighten it away or to kill it?”

  “The first time to frighten it away, the second to kill.”

  “Then you did not want your companion to see us.”

  “Us? Godamercy, was your sister in that tree, too?”

  “No, certainly not. I misspoke.” She added hastily, “Why did you frighten off the boar? And why did you not tell Loder that you had seen me?”

  He regarded her for a long moment, but she met his gaze steadily.

  He shrugged and said, “I should have told him, of course. Scrope would demand my head if he were to learn that I knew you were there and did nothing about it. But I do not make war on women, mistress.”

  “You did that day,” she said bitterly, “and on children, too. So did every Englishman with you.”

  “I won’t debate that with you,” he said shortly. “In battle, people get hurt. I was referring only to my failure to reveal your presence to Loder. How is it that you so easily recall having seen me and do not recall seeing him?”