The Secret Clan: The Complete Series

by Amanda Scott

  “I like it here,” Lucy said. “Come lie with me, Claud.”

  “Nay, not till ye tell me what ye did wi’ Catriona,” he said, folding his arms across his chest, determined to stand firm.

  Lucy shrugged. “I put a wee spell on her, is all.”

  “What spell?”

  The gamin gin peeped out again. “It’ll make her goat’s feet show if she goes near Dundreggan. If she be willing tae let them show, she can do as she pleases.”

  “But she hasna got any goat’s feet!”

  “She will if she goes anywhere near Dundreggan,” Lucy said. “It will keep her from making mischief, Claud.”

  “But ye’re making mischief instead!”

  “I’m preventing her mischief, Claud, that’s all.”

  The logic sounded reasonable, so why, Claud wondered, did he feel as if there were trouble afoot? Women confused him, which was why he preferred having to deal with only one at a time. With two flitting about, plus his mother, he was bound to have difficulty. He would certainly have to keep his wits about him.

  The next morning, when Bab descended to Ardintoul’s great hall to break her fast, she found a grim-faced Kintail awaiting her.

  Her first thought, thanks to her guilty conscience, was that he had somehow learned of her meeting the previous afternoon with the Fox, but his opening statement banished that fear.

  “A boat of mine arrived with bad news this morning, lass.”

  She gasped. “Not about Patrick!”

  “Nay, and I’m a fool for frightening you so,” he exclaimed. “I should have known you’d fear instantly for him. ’Tis bad enough though, for the boat came from Dumbarton. The King’s sons are dead.”

  She stared at him in shock. “Both of them! But how?”

  “A fever, they say. James and her grace were returning from Aberdeenshire and Angus, where they had been encouraging the local nobility to support him against England, when an urgent messenger reached them with the dire tidings from the Keeper at Stirling. The baby, Arthur, was dying. His older brother, the Duke of Rothesay, was sick too, vomiting and eating nothing. I need scarcely say that Jamie and Marie hastened to their sides, but they arrived too late. Both lads were gone.”

  Tears sprang to Bab’s eyes. One of the reasons for her journey to Stirling, and the one that had finally persuaded her mother to make the trip, had been the anticipated birth and subsequent christening of the King’s second son. James had a litter of illegitimate offspring scattered about, but he had sired only two legitimate sons, and the entire country would mourn their loss.

  “This changes things, lass,” Fin went on.

  “Aye, I’m sure it will,” she said, deciding she would not tell her mother. Such news, if Lady MacRae were even able to absorb it, would only cause her pain.

  He said flatly, “I cannot let you and her ladyship stay here at Ardintoul now with only a few lads to guard your safety.”

  “Then you’ll take us to Dunsithe after all?”

  “Nay, for her ladyship would not agree to go, and in her present state the journey would not be good for her. You must see that, Bab.”

  She nodded. “Then what? Do we stay at Eilean Donan?”

  “ ’Tis no better defended than Ardintoul,” he said with a half smile. The measuring look he shot her warned her that she would not like what he said next. “I’m going to take you back to Dundreggan,” he said. “The journey will not be too hard on your mother, and Chisholm will keep you safe. Dundreggan is a fortress.”

  Bab swallowed hard, not knowing how to respond. The first words that leaped to her tongue were clearly ineligible.

  Kintail expected a response, though, and she realized that letting her anger show would avail her nothing. “My mother will not agree to go to Glen Affric either,” she said at last with commendable calm.

  He frowned, and she was glad she had not snapped an outright refusal at him. She knew that much of her anger arose from the fact that she had been home barely a sennight and now he meant to whisk her back to Glen Affric. Still, it was never wise to defy him, and today Molly had not accompanied him and so would not be at hand to soothe his temper if Bab ignited it.

  She held her tongue, hoping his concern for her mother would persuade him.

  “It is most important that you and her ladyship be safe, lass,” he said at last, his tone calmer than she had expected. “The deaths of the princes will stir chaos. There is talk already of fear that the Islesmen may take advantage of James’s troubles to try winning back the Lordship of the Isles. Added to the tales of unrest in the glens that I’ve heard so often of late—”

  “But the center of that unrest is Inverness, so Glen Affric is even closer to it, and that is where you want to send us,” she pointed out.

  “Only because if you stay here, I shall have to leave more men to look after you than I want to leave, and I will not be certain of your safety even then,” he said. “The deaths of the princes greatly complicate matters, because if Jamie should die, every powerful noble in Scotland will be striving again to control the throne. We must do all we can to help him beat Henry if only to stabilize this realm.”

  “But that fighting is all far from here,” Bab said.

  “Aye, and perhaps it will remain so, but perhaps not,” he said. “We may find that the other Highland lairds are not so quick now to join Jamie or so willing to fight at his side. Some may decide to bide their time and see if Henry prevails.”

  “The King angered many Highland clans last year when he took their chiefs and chieftains hostage,” Bab said, remembering.

  “We of Kintail will follow him now, because he is our king,” Fin said, “but ’tis true that others are not so loyal.”

  Bab sighed but did not argue. She had learned long since that when matters of loyalty arose, there could be no argument with the men of Kintail.

  “Shall we go to Lady MacRae now?” he said quietly.

  “Aye, but I’m telling you, Fin, she will never agree to go to Dundreggan.”

  He did not reply, and she wondered what he would do when her mother defied or simply ignored his command. Lady MacRae was perfectly capable of doing either if what Bab had seen of her in past days was any indication. And if Fin tried to bully her… That would be another matter, Bab decided. She would not stand for it, even if it meant infuriating him herself.

  They found Lady MacRae in her comfortable bower just above the great hall. The chamber faced east, and the rising sun spilled golden paths across the floor. Her ladyship, in a light gray day robe and simple white veil, sat at a table that held a bowl of apples, a jug of ale, a manchet loaf, and various condiments. Clearly, she was breaking her fast, but she smiled vaguely at Fin when he made his bow.

  “Dear me,” she said to Bab, “have we guests today, dearling? You or Ada should have told me, for I am not properly attired to receive company.”

  Bab shot a glance at plump Ada, who sat on a nearby stool with her embroidery in her capacious lap. Encountering a grimace and a headshake, she said gently, “It is only Kintail come to call, madam, and he will not stay long, for he has much to do. Nonetheless, he wanted to pay his respects.”

  “I shall not change then if he does not object,” Lady MacRae said, nodding. “I do not want to return to my bedchamber until the wildcat is gone.”

  “Wildcat!” Bab and Fin exclaimed as one.

  “Why, yes, curled up right on my bed as if it owned the place.”

  “Madam,” Ada MacReedy said, setting down her embroidery and moving to refill Lady MacRae’s mug with ale. “I told ye, ’twere only a bad dream ye had. There were nae wildcat there when I stepped into the room.”

  “Mayhap you did not see it, Ada, but it was there, and I warrant it is still there, awaiting my return. I’d as lief not go back until the beast is gone.”

  With a speaking look at Fin, Ada said evenly, “I’ll send one o’ the lads up to shoo it off afore I let her ladyship return to her bedchamber.”

  Bab saw F
in’s frown and hoped that now that he’d had a taste of her ladyship’s fantasies, he would think twice about removing them to Dundreggan.

  Surely, her mother would fare better at home in familiar surroundings.

  “Did ye hear what the woman said, Lucy?” Claud demanded, pulling Lucy back behind a window curtain. “Me man’s nearby!”

  “How d’ye ken that?”

  “That wildcat. She always makes it appear wi’ her when she first makes herself visible tae mortals. Says it scares them more than seeing a member o’ our Clan does, so when they see she can control the cat, they dinna fear her.”

  “I’d no ha’ come here wi’ ye had I thought Maggie Malloch would learn o’ it,” Lucy said with a frown. “I hope ye didna tell her I’m helping ye.”

  “Nay, I did not,” Claud said. “Moreover, I dinna want her tae see either one o’ us, nor Kintail neither.”

  “Why d’ye no want her tae see Kintail?”

  “Ye misunderstand me, lass. I dinna want him tae see us!”

  “Are ye saying he has the Sight?”

  “Aye, he does,” Claud explained. “He doesna like admitting it, so he’ll no speak o’ us, and he’ll no recall any o’ our folk he’s met before, in any event. Still, I’m thinking it will be as well an he doesna see us at all, so take care.”

  “Aye,” Lucy said, smiling seductively. “Mayhap we should think o’ summat quiet tae do, Claud.”

  In Lady MacRae’s bower, Fin approached her ladyship, saying politely, “Good morning, madam; may I sit?”

  “To be sure, sir. Draw up that stool yonder and take a mug of ale with me.”

  Bab relaxed as she too drew up a stool and took her place between them. At least her mother seemed willing to converse sensibly.

  “I need your help,” Fin said as he accepted the mug of ale Ada poured him.

  “We MacRaes are at your service, sir, as ever,” Lady MacRae said.

  “Trouble is brewing in the Highlands, my lady, and I have promised to supply men to aid the King in his fight against an English invasion,” he said.

  “Then you must take men from Ardintoul.”

  “Aye, madam,” he agreed, “and because of that…”

  Here it came, Bab thought, watching her mother narrowly.

  “… I intend to escort you and your daughter to Dundreggan and place you under the protection of Lord Chisholm until my return.”

  To Bab’s shock, her mother did not protest. Instead, she frowned and then said in the muttering tone she used when she talked to herself or to some unseen entity, “ ’Tis understandable, albeit not yet the best time of the year. Indeed, I should prefer to wait until the days grow warmer, but mayhap they will warm themselves soon, and ’twill take some little time to organize, after all.”

  “To organize what, madam?” Bab asked.

  “Why, the wedding, of course.”

  “Wedding! What wedding?”

  With visible bewilderment, Lady MacRae looked at Fin and then back at Bab. “Why, your wedding, of course.”

  “But I am not getting married,” Bab said, exchanging a baffled look with Fin. “No one has even courted me.”

  “Nonsense, my dear, you are going to marry Lord Chisholm’s son. Your father and Chisholm discussed the matter long since, and now apparently Kintail has settled it. Why else should he take us to Dundreggan?”

  As Bab drew breath to explain, Fin put a quelling hand on her arm and said, “I will set everything in train then, madam, and you would please me best if you could be ready to depart early Monday morning.”

  “Do you hear, Ada?” Lady MacRae asked. “Can we be ready so soon?”

  “Aye, my lady. I’ll see to it.”

  “Excellent,” Fin said. “Now, Bab, if you will come with me—”

  “But—”

  “I want to talk to you,” he said in a tone that brooked no refusal. “We will leave your mother and Ada to begin their packing.”

  She still hesitated, but his grip on her arm was insistent.

  “Oh, very well,” she said with a sigh, “but if you think for one moment…” A glance at his stern face silenced her until they were downstairs again in the empty hall. But then she said hotly, “Fin Mackenzie, if you think for one minute that I am going to marry Alex Chisholm—”

  “Hush, lass, I don’t think anything of the kind, but even if I were inclined to leave you and your mother alone here, I certainly cannot do so when she is in such an odd state of mind. And if you think it will be easier to travel with her if she goes to Dundreggan against her will than if she goes believing she is about to plan your wedding, I’d advise you to think again.”

  “But what will Lord and Lady Chisholm think? My father and his lordship never made any agreement, and even if they had, I wouldn’t!”

  “I’d not be surprised to learn that they discussed such a union,” Fin said thoughtfully. “But any talk they might have had never went further than talk, because my father would have known if they had fixed an agreement between them. Moreover, we’d have the signed and witnessed documents right here at hand.”

  “There was no such agreement,” she repeated, measuring her words.

  “No, because everything of that sort was in good order before my father left for Kinlochewe,” Fin said. “Knowing he might fall in battle, he explained all such matters to me, and to Patrick too, since the possibility existed that my father and I might both fall. Then it would have been Patrick’s duty to inform the next heir and explain to him any commitments that my father had made before his death.”

  “Well, I cannot imagine why my father would even have talked about my marriage,” Bab said. “Faith, sir, I was only fourteen then.”

  “Nearly fifteen and quite old enough,” he said with a grin. “You forget that Chisholm’s land adjoins my eastern boundary. The match would be excellent for you and good for the Mackenzies and MacRaes, too.”

  Angrily, she exclaimed, “I don’t care about the Mac—”

  “That’s enough, Bab.”

  Biting off the words with a near sob, she pressed her lips together.

  “Think about your mother for once, and not just about yourself.”

  “I wasn’t!” But she knew that was not true, and heat flooded her cheeks with the shame of the knowledge.

  “Rest easy, lass,” Fin said in a gentler tone. “If she goes to Glen Affric believing in this marriage, the journey will be easier for her, and you must both go. Patrick and I will be able to attend to our duties more easily if we need not worry about you. And, pray, do not try telling me you’ve not been worried about her, because I have known you all your life and I can sense the worry in you.”

  “Aye,” she said, feeling only relief in admitting it. “She has been so strange since I returned, Fin. Indeed, this morning she appears nearly normal in comparison to what I usually see.”

  “Then when you arrive at Dundreggan, you should discuss your concerns with Lady Chisholm. She is an indolent creature, but she is kind and wise, and I warrant she will be glad to help. Your mother’s condition is not something you should try to deal with alone, Bab. If Molly were going to be here, it would be another matter, but we simply cannot take Lady MacRae all the way to Dunsithe.”

  “No,” she said.

  “Good,” he said. “Then here is what we’ll do. If you and her ladyship can be ready to leave first thing Monday morning, I’ll take you myself. My lads can have everyone who means to go south with me ready to go within the week, so Molly and I can meet them on the road after we’ve seen you safe at Dundreggan. I’ll warn your people before I leave that I’ll want ten men who mean to ride with me to escort you to the head of the loch on Monday. You can meet me there at nine o’clock.”

  Bab nodded, still stunned by her mother’s unexpected reaction and the complications in her own life that this absurd wedding notion was bound to cause.

  Chapter 10

  The return journey to Dundreggan took Kintail’s party twice as long as their j
ourney to Eilean Donan, because in deference to Lady MacRae, he followed the more traveled track through Glen Shiel and Glen Moriston to the Great Glen, and then along the west coast of Loch Ness to Glen Urquhart and west again into Glen Affric. Thus, they followed three sides of a rectangle, the fourth side of which comprised the more direct route they had traveled before, a route far too steep and treacherous to risk with her ladyship and with Chisholm’s laden sumpter ponies.

  Bab rode her favorite gray gelding, the sumpters carried their baggage, and the accommodations for the intervening nights were far more comfortable than before, because they stayed with friends of their own station.

  To Bab’s astonishments and relief, Lady MacRae weathered the journey well, only occasionally chatting with unseen spirits along the way and observing once, to everyone’s consternation, that a little lady whom she claimed to have seen in her bedchamber with the wildcat was riding pillion with Molly Mackenzie.

  At the time, Fin was leading the way along the narrow Glen Shiel track, followed by Molly and Bab, with Lady MacRae riding behind them, followed by Giorsal and Ada MacReedy. A small party of men-at-arms rode a half-mile ahead and another, larger party of such men followed.

  Not surprisingly, Molly looked over her shoulder when Lady MacRae made the odd comment, but of course, there was no little woman to be seen.

  However, instead of simply saying so, Molly glanced at Fin, who shrugged and shook his head, whereupon the pair of them turned as one to look speculatively at Lady MacRae and then at Bab.

  “What?” she demanded in an undertone with a sidelong look at her mother to be certain she was paying them no heed. “For mercy’s sake, do not encourage her.”

  “Does she often say things like that?” Molly asked.

  “Aye, of course she does,” Bab replied. “She talks to animals as if they were human, sees fairies riding dust motes in the hall and peeking out from under leaves in the woods, she saw this fictional wildcat in her bedchamber yesterday, and now this little woman. She has talked of such things since I was small, but she began doing it more often after my father died. One of her complaints at Stirling was that the wee folk had not visited her and she missed them. You know she has always been eccentric, Molly. Pray, do not encourage her to become more so.”