The Secret Clan: The Complete Series

by Amanda Scott

  They continued talking, and their pace continued brisk even after dusk fell, for the moon soon rose and the way remained clear before them.

  Bab enjoyed talking with him. It was as if Alex and the Fox had each been but half a man before, and now the man beside her was whole. If Alex had faults, and she knew he did, his own gentle virtues and the Fox’s determination and strength of purpose made them seem as nothing to her. She wondered if she had known in some hidden, unreachable place in her mind, that the two men were one. She had certainly felt the same stirring of the senses for each one.

  When the gates of Dundreggan loomed ahead of them, it was barely nine o’clock, and she might have been sorry their ride was at an end, were it not for the one matter still unresolved.

  Alex’s thoughts clearly matched hers, for as they entered the hall, he said, “Now, sweetheart, let us see if we can unmask him.”

  “You think he is here?”

  “I do. Come with me unless you are too tired.”

  “I would not miss this, but should we not tell my mother we are back?”

  “She will have retired after her supper,” he said. “Now, come.”

  “But where are we going?” she asked at the main stairway when, instead of going upstairs, he went down.

  “To the chapel. It contains a secret passage.”

  “The chapel? Then that is how you found Gibby!”

  “Aye,” he said. “I could not leave him there after he’d seen me, so I took him with me to the cave, to hand him over to Hugo, but he no sooner clapped eyes on Dancer than I’m sure the lad guessed all my secrets.”

  “I think you can trust him, though,” she said.

  “I agree, because whatever he may think of me, he’s mad about the horse.”

  She chuckled. “But do you just go into the chapel whenever you mean to visit the cavern? Don’t folks wonder at how pious you must appear to be?”

  “There is another stairway from the family chambers that ends behind what looks like a carved panel near the rood screen,” he explained. “One of my ancestors liked secrets, so he constructed it.”

  “His love of secrets seems not to have died with him,” she observed.

  “We’ll keep silent now,” he said. “This business is still not for all to know.”

  In the chapel, he showed her the hidden stairway. Then, leading the way behind the rood screen, he drew her into the alcove behind it. To Bab’s astonishment, what looked like an ordinary painting of St. Andrew pulled away from the wall to reveal a hidden doorway.

  “Come,” Alex said, holding out his hand.

  Taking it, she followed him down more dusky stairs, lit somehow by faint yellowish light from above. Counting the flights, she knew they had descended some distance below the level of the great hall when at last they came to the bottom of the stairway, having to feel their way down the last few steps.

  “Wait,” he murmured. She feared for a moment that he meant to leave her, but she heard a scraping sound as of metal on rock, then another sound that she easily identified as flint against a tinderbox. Sparks danced, then smoldering tinder, and a moment later, he lit a taper for her and another for himself from the first, and she was able to see the niche in the rock wall where the items had been stored. Other candles lay there and another tinderbox, as well.

  “Now, mind your step,” he said quietly. “This passage floor is remarkably even, but there are places where an unwary person might stumble, and it is not wide enough for us to walk side-by-side.”

  “Even if this tunnel leads outside the wall, won’t we need horses?”

  “The tunnel leads directly to the cavern,” he said.

  “But that cavern is miles from here!”

  “The outer entrance is just over the hill behind Dundreggan,” he said. “You came upon it by a roundabout way that day, so it seemed farther away than it is.”

  “Especially since you led me back to the ridge by just such another roundabout way.”

  “I did,” he admitted. “I did not want you meddling by returning to the cavern too easily. Now, hush, lass, for we do not want to advertise our arrival, although I warrant he’ll be expecting at least one of us.”

  “Won’t you tell me who he is?”

  “I want to be certain. If I am wrong, Hugo has much to answer for.”

  They did not speak again for some time, and it seemed to Bab that they had walked for miles, but she still had unusual energy, and she knew that the spooky passageway made the journey seem longer than it was. Her candle was less than half burned when Alex suddenly snuffed his. His body blocked her view, so she could not tell if he saw something ahead of them or was merely taking precautions.

  He turned, smiling, and just as she opened her mouth to ask what amused him, he pinched the flame from her candle, making her gasp at the sudden darkness.

  “Your eyes will adjust if you close them for a moment,” he whispered. “But do not speak.”

  She still seemed to see the flame when she closed her eyes, but the image soon faded, and when she opened them, she saw a faint golden glow beyond Alex’s shadowy bulk.

  He stood sideways to her and the glow outlined his hand as he raised it and lightly pressed a finger to her lips.

  Without thinking, she kissed his finger.

  His arms came around her then, and he pulled her close, hugging her and kissing her ear, her neck, her cheek, and then her lips, thoroughly. She arched her body against his and wrapped her arms tightly around him.

  Although she would have liked to enjoy more of his caresses, when he pressed his tongue against her lips, she pushed him away, urging him to continue along the passageway. As he obeyed, she heard his deep chuckle.

  He moved so quietly that she could not hear his footsteps. Her slippers were quiet, too. The glow brightened ahead, and she could discern details of the arched opening beyond them. Her heart pounded, and it occurred to her that the person—if there was indeed someone awaiting them—might not be a friend.

  Alex wore his sword, but as certain as she was that he was the Fox, and despite having seen him wield the weapon with great dexterity, she still could not quite imagine him whipping it out in Foxlike fashion and vanquishing an enemy. Try as she might to reconcile all her notions of Sir Alex Chisholm with her notions of the Fox, and although it had become easier, she could not always do it. Here in the darkness of the passageway, it was easier to think of him as the Fox.

  No sound came from the chamber ahead, but the golden glow flickered, telling her that it came from flames of one sort or another, most likely candles. She doubted that the light came from a fireplace, because surely she would smell smoke if it did. In any event, the cavern would not boast a chimney. Imagining the most likely reaction of anyone coming upon a hole in the ground from which smoke billowed forth made her smile. Upon just such events were legends built.

  Alex paused at the opening. He did not speak, but someone else did.

  “Damnation, man, you still move as silently as a shadow! Had I not been on the watch, I’d never have noted your presence.”

  The voice, deeper than the Fox’s, was nonetheless similar enough so that Bab was not surprised that earlier she had found it familiar.

  “I remember you used to creep up on your brothers when we were small,” the speaker added. “Did you hope I’d have a seizure so you’d inherit my holdings?”

  “Since we are only second cousins, you have many heirs before me,” Alex said, “but apparently you do know that your father died whilst you were gone.”

  Silence greeted this observation before the other man said, “No, I did not know that. Had I known, I would not have let Francis Dalcross live long enough to hang for his sins.”

  “I’m sorry to have broken the news so abruptly then, but how are you, Kit? Did it not occur to you your family might have liked to know you were in the area before you acted your little play today?”

  “Faith, I only arrived in Glen Affric yesterday, and since your Hugo was the
first man I met, it did not seem sensible after that to announce my presence. My original intent was to persuade you and your father of my innocence and then to confront the damnable Dalcrosses to clear my name, but I began hearing rumors of your arrest from the time I reached the head of Loch Linnhe. At first, it was only that the Black Fox had been captured. Imagine my astonishment when I began hearing about the trial of Sir Alex Chisholm!”

  “I warrant you suffered severe palpitations,” Alex drawled.

  “Faith, is that how you talk to folks now, like an idle poop-noddy? No wonder folks seemed so shocked at your unmasking. But who is that winsome lass hiding behind you?” he asked as Bab peeped out to get a better look at him.

  “This is Barbara, my wife,” Alex said, drawing her forward. “This is my cousin, Christopher Chisholm, Bab, now Laird of Ashkirk and Torness, which makes him only half a Highlander, so you need not be too polite to him.”

  Still gazing curiously at the large man, she said, “I am pleased to meet you, sir. You saved his life, and I warrant he is more grateful to you than he pretends to be. It is his habit to make light of things, as you must know.”

  “Aye, your ladyship, none better. Our family is close, although we own land in five counties and half of us live in the Borders. When I passed my place, Alex, I found it teeming with men-at-arms, and since I recognized none of them and know naught of what transpired in my absence, I came on to Glen Affric. Are those men at Torness yours, Dalcross’s, or has my uncle sent his own men up here?”

  “They are ours,” Alex said. “When I returned to Scotland from the Continent and learned of my brothers’ deaths, the first thing I wondered was who could benefit from the situation. I was certain that you had not killed them, and my father was skeptical, so although he could not imagine who else might have done it, he made no objection when I saw to it that your land was guarded.”

  “I thank you.”

  “Where the devil have you been hiding yourself all year, ye great stump?”

  “Hiding myself! That’s a good one. The villainous Dalcrosses captured me and handed me over to Cardinal Beaton’s men, claiming I’d be an obstacle to their attempts to reform the Highland Kirk. They taunted me, insisting that were they to turn me loose, they’d be signing my death warrant, because I’d then be tried for your brothers’ murders. I have been all the way to Rome and Venice, my lad, and to a few other places I’d as lief never see again.”

  “But why did they not simply put you on trial or make an end to you?”

  “Recall that your father was still Sheriff of Inverness,” the other said. “In any event, they preferred the mystery to the trial, or they feared folks on an Inverness jury might believe my word over theirs. I’m not a stranger here, after all, and the Dalcross methods were known even then. As to murdering me, I think from things I overheard that they feared some of their own men might speak up if they did that.”

  “But once Dalcross became sheriff… He had his tame jury, after all.”

  “Aye, but I was aboard the Marion Ogilvy by then, I think, and had I not been, even with such a jury, had Chisholm himself spoken for me—”

  “Do you think he would have?”

  “I do not know, but he is an honorable man, and he holds his family dear. My father was his closest cousin. Had Francis Dalcross arrested me properly and charged me with your brothers’ murders, I warrant your father would have made it his business to speak to me before they tried me and certainly before they hanged me. Do you think I could not have persuaded him that I spoke the truth?”

  Bab heard a touch of laughter in Alex’s voice as he said, “Faith, you were always able to persuade him of your innocence, even when you were as guilty as Satan. I suffered more than once from the effects of your glib tongue.”

  “You got your own back often enough.”

  “But what drove Francis Dalcross to murder my brothers?”

  “I have thought about that for a year,” Kit said. “Both Dalcross and his son were power mad and jealous of the power of families like the Chisholms, Frasers, and Mackintoshes. Francis had inched close enough to Beaton to know he was seeking support throughout Scotland, and particularly in the Highlands, to keep the Scottish Kirk under Rome’s influence. Francis wanted not only to oust Chisholm but to render him harmless, and he believed…”

  “What?” Alex demanded when his cousin paused and looked rueful.

  “Forget it, Alex; it isn’t important.”

  “It is to me,” Alex said grimly.

  “As he handed me over to his minions to deliver to the Marion Ogilvy, Francis said nothing would hurt your father more than losing his two stalwart sons and being left with… with only you to inherit his titles and estate.” Kit grimaced. “The man was a murderer and a fool, Alex, and he’ll soon hang. Whatever he thought, he was wrong, as any of us could have told him.”

  Bab saw that Alex had pressed his lips together, and a muscle twitched high in his cheek. She put a hand on his arm and felt the muscles tense beneath his sleeve. “He is right, my love,” she said gently.

  He glanced at her, and she saw surprise in his gaze. Then his expression softened, and he put an arm around her, drawing her close. Nonetheless, his tone was sad when he said, “Had I not been childishly jealous, had I worked harder to be like them when I was young—”

  “You, too, would be dead, my lad, and that is the plain and the short of it,” Kit Chisholm said sternly. “Use those sharp wits of yours, Alex! Had the Dalcrosses believed for a moment that you were cut from the same bolt as your brothers, they would have deprived your father of all three of his sons. The reason the scoundrels spared your life when you returned to Scotland was only because they erroneously believed Chisholm was ashamed of you.”

  “What makes you think he was not?” Alex demanded. “You cannot have spoken to him since your return.”

  “Nay, but I did before it all happened. Did you never know why he chose you instead of Rob or Michael to represent him at the King’s proxy wedding?”

  Alex shrugged. “I assumed he thought Jamie’s second wedding was a matter of lesser importance. Why else would he send his third and youngest son?”

  “Because he feared his eldest son might take offense at something and start a fight or his second son would play pranks on someone with the same result. You, he said, could be depended upon to do the thing properly and without shaming him.”

  Alex was silent for a long moment. “I wish he had told me,” he said.

  “That is not his nature,” Kit said. “He admires your intelligence.”

  “I infuriate him more often than not.”

  “Aye, sure, you infuriated all of us more often than not.” The big man grinned as he held out his hand, adding, “I’m glad to see you safe, Alex. I trust the Fox will retire now until such time in the distant future as he may be needed again.”

  “He will, indeed,” Alex promised.

  Bab said, “ ’Tis a pity your parents are still in Inverness, sir. They would be glad to see your cousin and to know he is responsible for saving you.”

  “Not alone,” Alex said, giving her shoulders another squeeze. “I know who my friends are, sweetheart, even those who are so foolhardy as to fling themselves between me and a would-be murderer. She did that, Kit, little fool that she is.”

  There was an edge to his voice that she did not quite like, so she was glad when Kit said, “She sounds very brave to me. I don’t think it wise for anyone else to see me just yet,” he added abruptly. “It can do us no good for folks to begin wondering at my appearance just when we have proved that you are innocent of playing the Fox. Francis Dalcross would certainly leap to all the right conclusions if he were to learn of it, and he could still do you some damage.”

  “Aye, that’s true,” Alex agreed. “But if you must play least in sight until tales of the Fox’s exploits grow rarer, where will you go?”

  “Well, I cannot stay in this cave,” Kit said. “I’ve two lads with me who chose to throw
their lots in with mine, but I did not think it wise to bring them in here. Hugo and the youngster with him are keeping them safe and Hugo brought us supplies as well as a horse I’ve left yonder with your Dancer. Since the men at Torness are yours, I think I’ll head there and take my two men with me. I’ll have to head south soon, in any event, to sort out my father’s affairs and my own.”

  “Aye, you were promised to some lass as I recall.”

  “I was,” Kit agreed. “If they haven’t rearranged matters, I still am.” He held out his hand and as Alex shook it, he added, “I’ll be on my way then. Since you’ve been locked up these past few days, I wager you’ll want to reacquaint yourself with your bonny wife.”

  “I do, indeed,” Alex said, casting a look at Bab that stirred tremors through her body. Whether they were tremors in anticipation of passion or punishment, however, she could not be sure. “Tell Hugo I want to see him,” Alex added. “I expect I shall have to forgive him for giving away my secret.”

  “Aye, I’ll tell him,” his cousin promised. Smiling at Bab, he bowed and said, “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady. Alex has done very well for himself.”

  She thanked him, and when he headed in the opposite direction from the way they had come, she said to Alex, “Just how many chambers are there, sir?”

  “Six,” he said promptly. “You saw only the outermost one before, but another one serves as Dancer’s stable, and there are others, too.”

  She was silent then, wondering what to say next, but he took the lead by saying, “You must go to bed, lass. I’m amazed that you’re not asleep on your feet.”

  “Really, sir, I—”

  “I do not think you should debate the matter with me right now,” he said. “I’ll take you back to the chapel and you can go up and get ready for bed while I wait to talk with Hugo. I’ll come to you afterward, and if you’re still awake, we’ll decide what we want to talk about then.”

  That edge being in his voice again, Bab thought it wiser not to argue.