by Amanda Scott
“Nay then, he won’t split on you or on us, but Sir Hugh’s bound to think what this laddie does, that we’ve been raiding Tynedale and all. And we’ve not, lass. I give ye my word.”
“What about Rabbie Redcloak then? Is he in Tarras Wood with the others?”
“Nay, but he’s no leading raiders neither,” Davy said.
Andrew said scornfully, “And how d’ye ken that?”
“Because if he were, I’d be ridin’ with him, that’s how,” Davy retorted.
“Andrew,” Laurie said, “have you heard any man at Brackengill or Haggbeck say that he has seen the raiders? Have Sir Hugh’s men recognized anyone or followed any raiders back to Tarras Wood?”
“Nay, but them that raid leave no ponies behind, so the villagers canna follow ’em anywhere,” Andrew said, still keeping a close eye on Davy. “Geordie says the reivers ken where our watchers lie and never ride near ’em.”
“Well, I believe Davy, Andrew. Perhaps if you were to ride to Broadhaugh and speak to Lady Scott, she could persuade Sir Quinton… No, wait.”
Laurie shook her head, realizing that although the boy looked eager to go, she could not send him to Broadhaugh. Even if he could persuade Janet Scott of something that he did not believe himself and Janet agreed to speak to her husband, Sir Quinton might not be home. And even if he was at home, by the time Sym persuaded Janet and Janet persuaded Sir Quinton, it might still be too late for Sym. Sir Hugh would not harm him if he had promised Quinton Scott that he would not. But if Sir Hugh had to hand Sym over to Scrope… That possibility terrified her.
“I’ll have to go to Sir Hugh myself,” she said.
Her stomach knotted at the thought, but she could tell by the relieved look on Davy’s face that he had hoped she would go.
He said gently, “Can ye do it, lass? I ken fine that ye’ve crossed the line afore, but surely ye did it wi’out Sir Hugh’s leave.”
“I did,” she admitted. “He will be furious with me, but that cannot be helped, Davy. This is my doing. I must do what I can to help.”
“I’ll ride wi’ ye,” Davy said.
“No, you must not. I’ll ride with Andrew, as I did before. No one heeds a woman and a lad, riding alone. I’ll be safer that way.”
“Unless the lad splits on ye,” Davy said, shooting a stern look at Andrew.
Laurie said calmly, “He won’t, will you, Andrew?”
Instead of reassuring her, Andrew looked thoughtful. At last, he said, “I’ll carry me gun, then, and we’ll load it proper.”
Davy started to protest, but Laurie said, “In truth, Davy, I’ll feel safer with it loaded. If the raiders are not Liddesdale men, then we do not know who they are or where we might meet with them. I want to know how to load that pistol, in any event. Can you show us how—and quickly?”
“Aye, I can do that,” Davy said. “Give it to me, ye wee villain.”
Andrew obeyed, watching closely as Davy examined the wheel-lock mechanism. In the meantime, Laurie unhooked the strap with the little powder bottles and slipped it from beneath her skirts, showing it to Davy.
He nodded approvingly.
“Each o’ them bottles ha’ powder for one charge,” he said. “’Tis good, that is, because ye canna overload the pistol. Here’s what ye do, then.”
He showed them as he talked. “Ye wind the wheel wi’ this wee spanner clipped t’ the stock until it locks the wheel… so. Then ye pour the powder into the wee pan here by the hole in the barrel. Then ye close the pan cover, so. The fine thing about this gun is ye can load it and then put it back in yon holster. The cover protects the powder, and the gun willna fire till ye pull the trigger. But dinna touch the trigger till ye’re wantin’ to shoot summat with it. It’ll fire only the one time, and ’tis likely ye’ll no ha’ time to wind it and load again.”
“I want to shoot it now,” Andrew said.
“Nay, then, ye’ll have them at the castle down on us if ye do,” Davy warned. Looking at Laurie, he added, “I doubt this be a good notion, lass.”
“It’s the only notion I have at present,” Laurie said. “Sir Hugh will not listen to you, and I do not see how you can persuade Sir Quinton to speak for Sym if he did not do so at once. But if I tell Sir Hugh that I believe Sym is innocent…”
She fell silent in the face of Davy’s visible skepticism, then rallied, saying firmly, “It’s the only thing I can do, Davy. He will be angry, but I think I can persuade him to listen to me. In any event, for Sym’s sake, I must try.”
“Aye, lass, and I’m that grateful. I’ll follow ye at a distance, though. I dinna trust the young scamp there to guard ye, and if ye ha’ need o’ that pistol, I’m no sure I trust it either. Wheel-locks ha’ a habit o’ failing when ye need ’em most.”
Laurie nodded. She would be glad to know that he was nearby, although she did not believe she would be in any danger while crossing into Scotland. The danger she faced lay on the other side, at Corbies Nest, when she confronted Sir Hugh Graham. Just the thought of that confrontation tied a knot in her stomach.
It was not generally her way to deal with problems directly, but in her time at Brackengill, she had come to realize some things about herself, and not all of them pleased her. She could see that in the past, when impulse led her astray, she had usually managed to wheedle her way out of trouble. She saw, too, that when she first offered herself as a pledge for May, she had expected to manage Hugh as easily as she had managed her father.
Sir Hugh, however, had not proved to be as predictable as Sir William was. He had seemed determined to make her stay at Brackengill as comfortable as possible, and he had allowed her to do as she pleased about hiring maidservants, but recalling his anger when he found her doing work that he considered inappropriate for a woman of her rank, she felt the knot in her stomach tighten. Recalling that he had once threatened to beat her if she ever lied to him, she could not help but think that he might view her decision to ride to Scotland—no matter how righteous her purpose—in much the same way that he would view lying.
It was not until the tower and rough timber walls of Corbies Nest loomed ahead that it occurred to her that Sir Hugh had seen her handwriting and might have recognized it. Until that point, she had not been able to decide what she would say to him, but if he knew that she’d had a hand in the prank that resulted in Sym’s arrest, she would have to tell him the truth and just hope for the best.
Hugh attempted only once to question Sym, but recognizing that the surge of anger that overcame him when Sym stood before him had little to do with the boy, he had sent him away again. He had no wish to vent his temper on one so young.
The temptation to ride to Brackengill and confront Laurie was nearly overwhelming, but he resisted that, too. Common sense told him that if she was involved with the so-called gift Sym had delivered, she was likely to be involved in a grander plot, as well. Since his temptation was to ride at speed to Brackengill, it was possible that the raiders had counted on his recognizing her hand and doing just that. Therefore, without first learning more, he could not afford to leave. His place was with his men, seeing to it that his siege succeeded in routing the reivers.
He had sent two men to Haggbeck early that morning, and they had returned already to say that only four kine were missing from the herd but that Geordie had sent men from Brackengill to help guard the others, fearing that the reivers intended to return and seize the rest later.
He was tempted to send his messengers to Brackengill with an order that Geordie lock Mistress Halliot in her bedchamber until he could deal with her, but since the message would have had to be delivered orally, he did not. He did not yet know how the reivers had made contact with Laura, but it was possible that they had suborned one of his men to get to her. Exactly what they had done he would learn from her just as soon as he was certain that all was secure at Tarras Wood.
Since it had not occurred to him that Laura might have left Brackengill, he was able to attend to his duties in the serene
belief that dealing with her could await his pleasure. He basked in this belief until early afternoon when Ned Rowan interrupted him by striding into the hall, his face grim.
“What is it?” Hugh demanded. His first thought was for Laura’s safety, and thus it was that he did not immediately comprehend Rowan’s meaning when the man spoke her name.
“What is it? What the devil’s happened? Have they attacked Brackengill?”
“She’s here, master.”
“Here? What do you mean? Damnation, man, can you not speak plainly?”
“Lady Graham—Mistress Halliot—she’s here!”
Comprehending at last, Hugh jumped to his feet. “Where?”
“Outside this hall. I’d ha’ brung her in, but I didna ken …” He gestured toward the few men who were in the hall, beginning to set up for dinner while they waited to take their turns on the wall.
“Fetch her.” Hugh got to his feet, glowering at Rowan.
“The lad’s wi’ her—Meggie’s Andrew. D’ye want him, too?”
“You can deal with him and with whoever else she cozened into escorting her,” Hugh snarled. “Just fetch her in here! The rest of you, leave.”
His men left hurriedly, but when Laurie entered, Andrew was at her side.
She walked in briskly, saying, “I won’t allow you to bully Andrew the way you’ve bullied Sym, Sir Hugh. I countermanded your order and told him that he could stay with me, because he is afraid to go with Ned Rowan. He’s afraid that Ned will punish him.”
“Ned should punish him,” Hugh growled, ‘just as I should punish you. I should hang every man jack that came with you, for aiding and abetting the escape of a prisoner. What the devil are you doing here?”
“I had to come,” she said earnestly. “I cannot let you make war on children. Where is Sym Elliot? I know you’ve got him locked up here. They told me so.”
“I want to know who’s been talking out of turn,” Hugh said. What he really wanted to do was grab her and shake her, but with Andrew standing white-faced at her side, his eyes wide with fear, he could not allow himself to touch her.
“No one talked out of turn,” Laurie said. “Sym’s father came to find me, to tell me what had happened. I know I should not have come here, but—”
“You should not have set foot outside the gates of Brackengill!”
She made an impatient gesture, as if she were dismissing something trivial. “Why are you holding Sym?”
“Because he walked right up to the gate with a cow he’d stolen from my herd. Tell me what you know about that, my lass, before we go any further.”
When color flooded her cheeks and she pressed her lips tightly together, he felt a surge of satisfaction, believing that he had effectively silenced her.
The glint in Sir Hugh’s eyes confirmed Laurie’s fear that he had recognized her scrawl in the note he had received.
“Pray, sir, do not glower at me,” she said at last, keeping her gaze fixed on a point in the middle of his chest. That way, she did not have to confront the anger in his eyes. To keep her courage, she knew she would have to remain calm, but it was not easy when she knew he was furious. “This is hard for me,” she said. “I know I am pledged to remain at Brackengill until May returns, but I also knew that I had to come to you myself when I learned that you were holding Sym. You are wrong about the raiders, sir.”
“Wrong? What can you know about it? And how the devil did you escape? By Heaven, I’ll have answers to that, and my men will rue the day that—”
Meeting his gaze at last, she said, “Do not blame your men, sir. They took their cue from you. You never told them to treat me like a prisoner, and you have rarely done so yourself. You trusted my word, and I promise, you can still do so. I am as much your hostage today as I ever was.”
“A proper hostage does not cross back into Scotland when she is pledged to remain in England, lass. I told you that you were to stay inside the castle, and you promised to do so.”
“Not really,” she said, looking down again. “You asked if I understood you, and I said that I did, but I never promised to stay inside the walls. Even so,” she added hastily, “I pledged to remain your hostage, and I have. Surely, you know that you can trust me as much as your Queen trusts the Laird of Buccleuch when she allows him to hunt and gamble with his Berwick jailers.”
His jaw tightened. “We are not discussing Buccleuch,” he said. “I want to know how the men who stole my cattle came by a note in your hand—a most impertinent note, I might add.”
She nibbled her lower lip. Speaking the truth was harder than she had thought it would be. “Well,” she said at last, exchanging a quick look with Andrew, “the truth is that I rode into Scotland once before today.”
Sir Hugh also looked at Andrew. After a momentary silence, during which Laurie noted with admiration that Andrew did not attempt to avoid that stern gaze, Hugh said, “What have you to say about this, lad?”
Andrew licked his lips nervously, but his voice was steady when he said, “I do nobbut what the mistress asks of me, master. I did think she were daft when she said she believed them what told her the reivers are no men o’ Liddesdale, but she be right about our lads no seeing ’em.”
“You go and find Ned Rowan and do as he bids you.”
“Rowan must not punish him,” Laurie interjected hastily.
“Tell him that I’ll talk to you about all this later,” Hugh added.
“And what about Sym?” Laurie demanded as Andrew turned slowly away. “You must let him go back to his people, sir. He did no more than… than what I asked him to do,” she added with a gulp.
“I see,” Hugh said, shooting a look at her from under his brows that boded no good. “Tell Ned I want him,” he told Andrew.
The boy left, and a moment later, Rowan returned. “Aye, master?”
“Send that boy Sym home to his people,” Hugh said. “It seems that he was no more than the messenger he said he was, and regardless of what some might think, I do not make war on children.”
“Aye, sir,” Rowan said. “D’ye want me to tend to young Andrew now?”
“Nay, he did only as he was commanded. I’ll deal with the true culprit myself.” Dismissing Rowan with a gesture, Hugh said nothing for a long moment, and Laurie felt her knees weaken.
When he still said nothing, she blurted, “I never did run away. You must see that much, and you cannot have any notion how hard it was for me to come to you like this today. If you had any heart at all, you would surely—”
“Be silent,” he snapped. “You behave as though you think you have done something noble in coming here. I see only a hostage who ran off without my permission, and I promise you, Scrope would see it my way.”
“But I came because you had taken Sym, because you insist on believing that the raiders are Rabbie’s Bairns or the people of Tarras Wood, and they are not!”
“I told you to be silent. You can know nothing about Rabbie Redcloak or his activities. You know only what his men tell you, and they are probably lying to protect themselves. Furthermore, you persist in refusing to see your own danger, Laura. Do you not know that I would merely be complying with Border law if I were to hang you for escaping and Andrew for assisting you? Scrope will insist on both if he learns about this.”
“But—”
He closed the distance between them and grabbed her by the shoulders, giving her a shake as he said, “Listen to me! I cannot protect you from Scrope and his like if you continue to defy me.”
She stared up at him, hardly aware of his words, conscious only of his hands grasping her, of his body so near. Vaguely, in the back of her mind, she knew that she ought to be afraid, but she felt no fear. She saw the harsh look in his eyes soften and felt a tremor in the hands holding her.
Putting one hand gently against his chest, the way she might have tried to soothe a nervous horse, she was surprised to feel the rough cloth of his jacket. At some point, she had taken off her gloves, but she did not r
emember when or where.
He ignored her hand, tightening his grip as he said, “Do you not realize that he would blame me, too, lass? He would point out, just as you did, that I failed to make it plain to my people that you are a hostage.”
She knew that he was not concerned for himself. “If I have learned anything,” she said, “I have learned that the notion of a hostage depends on what men wish it to mean. For example, when it pleased Scrope to call me your wife, he cannot have expected you to keep me locked up. A man does not lock up his wife—at least, in Scotland, he generally does not.”
“The fact that Scrope himself insists on calling you my wife hardly helps matters, but he would not care about that. Indeed, I cannot doubt that he meant to muddy the water when he did that, hoping I would treat you differently from the way I would treat a male hostage, just so that he could accuse me of being soft.”
“Well, I do not know what you mean, exactly, inasmuch as one knows how James and Elizabeth both treated Buccleuch,” Laurie said thoughtfully. “You could hardly have kept me locked in a dungeon all this time.”
“I couldn’t,” Hugh said with emphasis. “But if Scrope learns that you have been riding out and about the countryside, even into Scotland, he will say that I gave you a free rein, and I could not deny it. You also have put Andrew and the others in grave danger, Laura. If Scrope insists that I hang you, he will also insist that I hang Andrew. Recall that the lad had already drawn his lordship’s ire. As to Geordie and the others—”
“Now you are being nonsensical,” Laurie said. It was hard to think with him holding her, but if she had learned anything about Sir Hugh Graham it was that he would protect his own and that he was capable of doing so. He might not want her as his wife, but he had taken her under his protection when he agreed to hold her as a hostage for May. She did not believe that he would let Scrope or anyone else hang her if he could help it. “What are you going to do?” she asked.
“I am going to send you straight back to Brackengill and order you locked in your bedchamber,” he said. His hands tensed as he spoke, and for a moment, she thought he would shake her again.
