The Secret Clan: The Complete Series

by Amanda Scott

  “But how absurd,” Drusilla protested. “There is no place in Elspeth’s bedchamber for a grown man to hide.”

  “Clearly, there must be,” Sir Hector said, “since I did not see him there and you say he emerged after I left her.”

  Elspeth felt heat in her cheeks as she waited for the obvious question, but it did not come. Instead, Sir Hector said to Patrick, “How is that bird coming along?”

  “He’s a splendid lad,” Patrick said, stroking Zeus.

  “Do you think he is fit to give the King?”

  “I do, and all,” Patrick said.

  “Then you have done as I bade you, and as I have no cause to doubt your version of what happened last night—”

  “Husband!”

  “Father!”

  “—I shall not dismiss you until you have delivered the hawk to Stirling,” Sir Hector went on as if his wife and daughter had not spoken. “However, it will be better for all, I believe, if you leave at once. You may take Small Neddy to help you tend the bird along the way.”

  “Zeus will need more training afore he’ll be fit for his grace,” Patrick said.

  “Yes, I know, and since you are starting out a few days ahead of us, you will still have time to work with him. Even half trained, I warrant James will like him.”

  “Am I tae deliver him tae the royal mews then, sir?”

  “Nay, you’ll await our coming, for I want to present him to James myself. We’ll leave on Thursday and should be in Stirling by Saturday.”

  “Where do I go then?” Patrick asked.

  “To the house of my cousin Oscar Farnsworth in St. Mary’s Wynd. Come to me before you depart, and I will give you a letter for him and sufficient funds to get you there. You’ll have your wages after I give the bird to the King. Now you may leave us.” Patrick went, and Elspeth braced herself, bereft now of any support.

  Before Sir Hector could speak, Lady Farnsworth said angrily, “He should be flogged, and I certainly hope you do not mean to let Elspeth off so lightly, sir. What she did is unconscionable. I do not care if the devil himself was after the falconer. She had no business to be hiding him in her chamber. Indeed, she must have hidden him in her bed, since there is nowhere else she can have concealed him.”

  Sir Hector grimaced, but whether his distaste was for his wife’s demands or because he had already deduced as much, Elspeth did not know.

  He said quietly, “You are right, madam, although I do Elspeth the courtesy of believing that she acted out of innocence. Although you may have thought you were doing a kindness, lass, what you did was wrong. He should not have asked so much of you, but the doing was yours as much as his.”

  “She must be punished,” Lady Farnsworth snapped. “Severely.”

  “What would you suggest, madam?”

  “Well, she certainly cannot go with us to Stirling, not with that man there, too, just waiting for her. Whether you choose to believe him or not, husband—”

  “I agree, madam. If the gossips learn of this, and babble, we would all dislike it. Very well, you will remain here, Elspeth. Martha Elliot can serve my ladies, and if she does not suffice, I will hire a town maidservant to assist her. You may go.”

  “Is she not to be whipped then?” Jelyan asked in her usual sweet voice.

  Elspeth did not know which she disliked more, Drusilla’s shrillness or Jelyan’s false virtue. Both were usually aimed at her undoing.

  To her relief, Sir Hector said, “To miss going to court is punishment enough. If you disagree, madam, she can go without her dinner today. She will have to work hard, in any case, to see you all ready to leave by Thursday’s dawn light.”

  Elspeth knew from the look Lady Farnsworth gave her that she would not get dinner, and she doubted that she would get her supper either. None of that mattered, however. What mattered was that she was unlikely ever to see Patrick or Zeus again. That thought brought tears to her eyes.

  “Save your weeping until you have something to weep for,” Drusilla said as she followed Elspeth from the room. “And take care to mind your manners until we depart, because my mother will not be as lenient with you as she usually is. Your wicked behavior has shocked us all, you ungrateful slut.”

  Elspeth did not know if they were shocked or not, but she did not doubt that it would behoove her to tread lightly until they left for Stirling.

  Chapter 9

  Patrick began his preparations, certain that Sir Hector would expect him to go as soon as he had eaten his midday meal. He had made some preparations already in case his departure occurred more spontaneously than anticipated. Those preparations had not included Zeus, however, so as soon as he reached the mews, he spurred Small Neddy to furious activity, collecting necessities.

  “Do I ha’ tae go wi’ ye, then?”

  “Sir Hector said ye should,” Patrick said, wondering if the lad would be much use to him. Neddy had taken Zeus in dislike from the first, but they would need rabbits. He realized then that he would need other things, too, and Sir Hector had said the ladies had not broken their fast before the meeting. Doubtless they were all in the hall doing so now, leaving their chambers empty.

  On the thought, he leashed Zeus to his perch. Then, emptying the falconer’s bag and slinging it over his shoulder, he strode across the yard to the postern door and up the stairs to the floor where he knew Lady Farnsworth’s chamber lay. Barely pausing at her door, he opened it quickly and stepped inside, his gaze already fixed on the wardrobe against the opposite wall between the two open windows.

  He was halfway across the floor before he realized he was not alone.

  “Whatever are you doing here?” Elspeth demanded.

  As she spoke, she stepped out from the far side of the tall, curtained bed that occupied much of the wall to his left, and he realized that the half-closed bed curtains had concealed her when he entered. She held an armful of feather bed, and the rest of the bedding was turned down. Clearly, she had been making the bed.

  Grinning and shrugging the falconer’s bag from his shoulder, he said, “I’ve come for a bit of thievery. Will you betray me, mo chridhe?”

  She shook her head, but a smile touched her lips. “Have you no shame, sir? You should not call me your sweetheart. What if someone were to hear you?”

  “D’ye speak the Gaelic then, lass?”

  She frowned. “The Gaelic? Is that not the language of the Highlands?”

  “It is,” he said, watching her narrowly. “How is it that you understand me?”

  “ ‘Sweetheart’ is broad Scot or English,” she said, clearly confused.

  “I said mo chridhe, though, ‘my heart.’ ”

  “Did you? I suppose someone must have told me the meaning sometime or other, and I simply translated it in my mind when I heard it. I do not recall hearing you say it before, though, only ‘sweetheart.’ ”

  Impulsively, he dropped the bag and went to her, pulling the bedding away and dropping it to the floor so he could gather her into his arms. “I could say that I came here in search of you, mo chridhe. Would you believe me?”

  Her lashes fluttered adorably as she put her arms around him and looked up into his eyes, searching them as if she would find answers to her questions in their depths. “Aye,” she said. “I might believe you. If you were to say it.”

  “Well, I won’t say it because it would be a lie,” he said, still grinning. “I did mean to search for you before I left, to bid you farewell, but the fact is I told you the truth before. In a perfect world, those Englishmen would believe I’d disappeared and cease to look for me. But as you pointed out, I’m too large to travel hereabouts unnoticed. Therefore, if I’m to reach Stirling safely, I may at some point or other need a disguise, so I had it in mind to borrow one of her ladyship’s frightful wigs.”

  She laughed, quickly smothering the sound with a hand clapped over her mouth. “You wouldn’t!”

  “But it’s an excellent notion,” he said, gently stroking her arms, delighting in the way ju
st touching her sent waves of heat through his body. It took effort to keep his voice light as he said, “If I see anyone coming who seems threatening, I shall pop the wig on my head and peer down my nose at them until they go away again.”

  “But you are too big, and even if you shaved off your beard, no one would mistake you for a woman!”

  “Nonsense.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Even if someone should think me a particularly ugly lady, no one would insult me by saying so.”

  “A lady would wear a dress!”

  “Aye, sure,” he said, “ ’tis another wee thing I shall need, and mayhap a handsome bodice and scarf as well. Ha’ ye any tae spare?”

  She pushed him away and put her hands on her hips. “Art daft, sir?”

  “Nay, I swear. Don’t run away, lass. I like holding you. You should come with me, I think, for you would be safer with me than here at Farnsworth without Sir Hector to protect you.”

  “You are daft.”

  “Nay.” He reached for her again, enjoying the way her face revealed her warring emotions. “You want to come, do you not, mo chridhe?”

  “Aye,” she said softly. “I’m that wicked, I fear, but I dare not.”

  “Why not? I swear I’ll protect you.”

  Her gaze searched his again, and for one wondrous moment he believed she would agree to flee with him. The thought delighted him even more than he had suspected it would when the impulse struck him to ask her.

  Then, bluntly, she said, “I told you before how it is. I cannot run away when they have sheltered me since I was a bairn. I owe them my loyalty.”

  “You owe those bad-mannered shrews naught but the rough edge of your tongue,” he said flatly. “When I think how monstrously they treat you—”

  “I think one of her ladyship’s petticoats or skirts might fit round you,” she interjected firmly, “but I do not think she has a bodice that will. Even she is smaller than you are around the chest. She is also a good deal shorter than you are.”

  “I borrowed a long cloak that one of the men-at-arms left lying about.”

  Her eyebrows arched. “Borrowed?”

  “Aye, well, he’ll not miss it soon enough to reclaim it, and although it is short for me, no one will notice that if I wear it over a skirt. Find me that petticoat now, mo chridhe, and the wig and a scarf, so we may continue our conversation.”

  “We have no conversation to continue,” she said. “You have not thought, sir, and in your situation, not to think things out carefully is foolhardy.”

  “Fortitude will see us through,” he said. “I think well on my feet, and I promise that if you come with me, I’ll keep you safe.”

  “By pretending that I am your daughter, I expect.”

  “My daughter!” He stared at her, wondering how she could say such a thing.

  “Aye, or perhaps when you wear her ladyship’s wig you can pretend to be my tirewoman. With a hawk on your fist, no doubt, a very odd creature indeed.”

  “Lass—”

  “No,” she said more firmly than before. Her hands were no longer on her hips, but when he reached for her, she eluded his grasp. “I’ll fetch those clothes,” she said, “and the wig. Then you must be off before anyone comes.”

  She hurried to the wardrobe, flinging it open and reaching for a basket on the high shelf inside. As he moved to help her, he heard the sound of approaching steps.

  “Someone’s coming up the stairs,” he muttered.

  “Quick!” She pushed the basket back where it belonged. “Get onto the bed and lie across the very top of it.”

  Without question, he flung himself onto the straw matting that covered the bed ropes and rolled to lie across the top with the falconer’s bag tucked under him.

  Swiftly she scooped up the featherbed and flung it atop him, flipping the rest of the bedding up over it and pummeling it into place over and around him as if he were some sort of long bolster.

  When the latch clicked, she was smoothing the coverlet, and he knew his feet were sticking out on the side nearest the door. He dared not move though, and could only hope the bed hangings concealed his boots from the person entering the room.

  As the door opened, Elspeth grabbed the nearest bed curtain and yanked it closed, startling a spider from its web and sending it scurrying. The curtains at the foot were open, of course, but at least now sunlight could not shine from the nearest window across the head of the bed.

  “Mercy, are ye still here?” Martha Elliot demanded as she bustled in.

  “I was delayed this morning, as you must know, Martha, and when I shook the hangings just now, I disturbed a spider. I must be sure that there are no more. Mayhap you will say that with her ladyship leaving so soon for Stirling, I need not waste my time with such—”

  “I’ll say no such thing,” Martha Elliot declared. “Ye’re in enough trouble without her ladyship being wakened in the middle of the night by a spider strolling across her face. See that ye shake all the bed curtains, and shake them well!”

  “I’d be quicker if you would help me,” Elspeth said, grabbing an end curtain and pulling it shut, then reaching for its mate.

  “Ye ha’ no need for my assistance with such a menial task,” Martha said, moving to the wardrobe without another glance at the bed. “Just see that ye dinna dawdle. There’s much yet to be done. I came only to collect two more of her ladyship’s skirts. She thought she didna want them, but she has changed her mind.”

  Elspeth moved to the other side of the bed and reached to shake the curtain there before she saw that it barely concealed Patrick’s feet. Her throat tightened at the thought of what could have happened had Martha had a more generous nature.

  Watching obliquely as the woman took one skirt from the wardrobe and reached for a second one, Elspeth shook the curtain wildly, surprised at how much dust had accumulated in the two days since she had last done so. At the end of the bed, she repeated the action, sending another cloud of dust into the air.

  Coughing, Martha exclaimed, “Mercy on us! I hope ye take time after everyone has gone to give these rooms a thorough cleaning!”

  “I will,” Elspeth said as Martha bustled out and shut the door.

  The minute it was shut, she flew to pull back the bedding. “Oh, please, sir, hurry. I do not think she’ll come back, but I’ve never been so frightened in my life!”

  “You!” Patrick exclaimed, sitting up and scrambling to his feet. “How do you think I felt when you asked if she would help you?”

  “I knew she would not. Indeed, I hoped it would make her leave at once, because even Martha Elliot is bound to feel a stab of guilt if she stands by scolding whilst I struggle to shake these dusty hangings.”

  “Well, I had no way to know that,” he said. “I was shaking enough to set the whole bed atremble, expecting that woman to grab hold of the bed hangings and set up a screech when she saw my boots sticking out of her precious mistress’s bed.”

  Elspeth chuckled as she hurried to the wardrobe. Snatching the wig basket from the shelf, she pulled out an older red one that she hoped her ladyship would not want to take with her to Stirling. Thrusting it into his hands, she pulled a black skirt, a pattern scarf, and a red flannel petticoat from the wardrobe.

  Handing these items to him as well, she said, “Take these, but truly, sir, you must get out of here. As it is, I do not know how you imagine you can just walk downstairs and outside without anyone stopping you to ask your business.”

  His impudent grin flashed as he stuffed the items into the bag, which bulged at the seams when he strapped it shut. “I need go down only one flight of stairs, for I mean to go to Sir Hector and ask for that letter and the money he promised me.”

  She stared at him. “You dare to do that whilst you carry his wife’s wig and clothing in your falconer’s bag! What if he demands to see what you have in there?”

  “He will not,” Patrick said, catching hold of her and pulling her close. “Now, lassie, kiss me before I go. I want to savo
r the taste of your lips on mine as I speak to Sir Hector.”

  She kissed him willingly, trying not to think about how much she would miss him. His lips were warm and demanding, and his arms wrapped tightly around her. Her body responded to his, wantonly pressing against him, and she would have let him kiss her forever had she not feared that someone else would come in. At last, she pushed him away, saying more fiercely than she had intended, “Take care!”

  “Aye, I will, and you, too, sweetheart. I’ll not leave until I have finished my dinner, so if you should change your mind—”

  “I won’t. I can’t!” Feeling tears pricking her eyelids, she said, “Go!”

  He did, and she stood staring at the door, letting the tears trickle down her cheeks. She knew little more about him than she had known when he surprised her in the woods, but what she had learned told her he was no common falconer. Not only did he frequently forget to speak like a Borderer but there was too much confidence in the way he carried himself and the way he had spoken to Sir Hector that morning, and for that matter, the way he spoke to her. Had he not been fleeing the English like any common felon, she might mistake him for a gentleman.

  “Aye, and what if he is? Would ye go wi’ him then, lass?”

  Startled nearly out of her wits at hearing an unfamiliar female voice in a room she had believed empty, Elspeth spun around but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Puzzled and not a little frightened, she peered more carefully around the room as she said, “Who spoke to me? Show yourself at once!”

  “Aye, sure, and ye’ll see me if ye’ll only look this way.”

  Realizing that the voice came from the bed, she whisked open the hangings at the foot and gave a cry of astonishment at the sight of a large, golden wildcat curled in the middle of the coverlet. As she jumped back in fright, she saw a plump little woman take form, two-thirds the size of the cat, nestling against its furry side. She wore a green cloak over a gray and black dress, and she sat with her legs stretched in front of her, her black-booted feet crossed neatly at the ankles.