by Amanda Scott
Not that Olivia approved of her solitary ventures. Indeed, the case was otherwise, and she would doubtless scold as she always did when Anne rode to the Towers alone, but Anne knew she would do no more than scold her, so she could submit calmly to the lecture and then go about her activities as usual.
Turning her thoughts to her cousin’s trouble, she tried to think of a solution, but none occurred to her. She disliked Eustace, who was possessed of a licentious nature, too old for Fiona, and in Anne’s opinion, a man who would do anything he had to do to increase his position, power, and wealth, and who would trample anyone in his path to achieve those goals. His recent inheritance of the great Chisholm estates had, she believed, only whetted his hunger for more. And she did not think Fiona would satisfy his other, more fundamental appetites, especially since he delighted in leering at or accosting maidservants or even young women he merely suspected of being maidservants.
She certainly did not approve of forcing Fiona to marry him just to ally the Carmichaels with Chisholm wealth and power. For Olivia to scheme with the previous Laird of Ashkirk to marry her daughter to his son was understandable, and doubtless many would say it was therefore logical to want Fiona to marry Ashkirk’s heir, but at least Sir Christopher Chisholm had been of a suitable age. Anne had never met him, but one had only to suffer the leers and other unwelcome attentions of his uncle, as she had, to be certain the nephew had to have been a better man.
Such musings made the time pass swiftly, and as she neared the Towers, a break opened in the clouds, and slanting rays of the sun sparkled on the grassy slope leading to the massive castle. It looked formidable from below, but Anne felt only the comforting peace of homecoming.
Admittedly, the sun was lower in the sky than she had hoped it would be, allowing her a scant two hours to visit before she would have to return. With such a short rest, her pony would still be tired, so she would not dare push it on the return trip as she had in coming. Perhaps she should allow herself even less time at home.
When Catriona saw Lady Anne ride out alone, the answer to her problem presented itself. Anne wanted to stop her cousin’s wedding to Sir Eustace, so Kit just had to meet Anne.
He would identify himself to her, whereupon she would take him directly to Fiona, and that would put an end to the wedding. The plan was excellent, better than any of Claud’s, because Catriona would leave no room for error.
Anne’s intentions were admirable, but it had been a fortnight since her last visit, and she was eager to talk to everyone, to be sure that all was well.
Rumors still abounded, as they had for months, that the English king’s armies hovered dangerously near, and that invasion was inevitable, and she knew Ellyson Towers lay too close to the line for safety or comfort. But despite everyone’s fears, the area had remained generally peaceful, with only a few armed forays taking place and those far from their part of the line.
Therefore, Anne had stripped off her gloves and cloak and lingered happily, enjoying familiar, pleasant conversation and the company of folks who had looked after her home for her entire life. Her father’s steward having received no word yet from Thomas Ellyson, despite messages sent to his family seat in Dumfries and to his house in Stirling, things marched along much as they always had.
She was still sitting in the kitchen, enjoying a comfortable chat with the steward’s wife, when the steward put his head through the doorway and asked if she intended to spend the night. “Because if ye dinna mean tae stay, mistress, ye’d best be going soon. Darkness be a-coming earlier these days.”
Rising reluctantly, Anne said, “I know, and I should not have stayed so long, but in truth, I do not want to go. Were it not that my cousin would suffer from my absence, I’d be tempted to stay here. Indeed, once she marries—”
“Nay, mistress, ye mustna move back here even then,” the steward said. “It isna fitting for a young lass tae live alone in a place as vulnerable as the Towers be tae English Harry and his ilk, especially when we dinna ken friend from foe these days. Ye’ll be going now, and I’ll send some o’ the lads along tae look after ye.”
“No, don’t do that,” she said firmly as she always did when he made such a suggestion. “I enjoy the solitude of these rides, for I get too little of it at Mute Hill. Nearly everyone in these parts knows me, so I’ll come to no harm.”
“The clouds be thinning, and the moon be likely tae draw out a few reivers,” he warned. “They come from all parts, reivers do.”
Anne smiled but got up obediently and let him help her don her cloak. As she picked up her gloves, she said, “I’ll not worry you by staying longer, but it is still too early for reivers to be riding, and I shall reach Mute Hill before moonrise.”
He shook his head at her but did not argue. Danger abounded in the area, but all the servants at the Towers knew that Lady Anne, despite her calm demeanor and ready smiles, always took her own path. Even the earl had rarely curbed her, and the plain truth was that although her impulses often seemed foolhardy to others, she had never yet come to harm.
Catriona sighed with vexation. Everything was in train, and she had been gently encouraging Anne to linger, hoping she would stay long enough at the Towers to suit the excellent plan. However, the steward’s influence was strong, and she dared not interfere further. But it was not nearly late enough yet.
Anne’s luck was out. Thoughts of Fiona’s upcoming wedding still intruded upon her peace, and in pondering how she might persuade her aunt to postpone that event, she failed to pay proper heed to the track ahead. Thus, and with dusk rapidly descending, her mount stepped into a rabbit hole and came up lame.
Dismounting, she carefully examined the horse’s leg and hoof.
It did not seem badly hurt, but even a slight injury would be compounded if she continued to ride. With a sigh, she glanced around, trying to determine exactly how far she had come and how much farther she had to go.
The clouds had dissipated, and although it was still light, she could see a scattering of first stars. The moon would not rise for two hours or more.
“Here now, what d’ye think ye’re a-doing?”
Since her attention was focused on Anne, Catriona nearly leaped out of her skin at the sound of an unfamiliar masculine voice. Whirling to face the speaker, she stared in amazement, because the angry fellow she confronted was unlike anyone she had ever seen before. Although she was in alien territory, she had met other Border folk, including Maggie Malloch, and none of them had had bodies through which one could see.
He was not transparent, exactly, but he was certainly diaphanous, for as he moved, she could see the outline of the brown grassy hills behind him.
He seemed astonished, too. “Faith,” he exclaimed, “who are ye?”
“My name is Catriona,” she said, recovering her wits and smiling at him.
His eyes opened so wide that his eyelids nearly vanished. “But ye’re lovely.”
“Thank you.”
“But why did ye lame me lass’s pony?”
“She was going too fast.”
“But she must get home!” He flicked a finger toward the lame gelding.
“What are you doing?”
“Fixing him, o’ course. Ye canna be going about laming ponies. We ha’ rules against such as that.”
“Who are you, and why do you care what I do?”
“Me name’s Fergus Fishbait,” he said. “Hereabouts everyone kens me.”
“I don’t care if they do. I do not want her to ride, and in any event, since she does not know that you fixed the pony’s leg, she will still walk, so that’s all right.”
“I’ll just put the notion in her head tae try it then.”
“She knows the pony stepped into a hole. She’ll not chance further injury.” She had taken his measure and was certain she had more power than he did, but it would not help her cause if he complained to the High Circle about her tactics. She stepped nearer, smiling again as she said, “It’s gey important, you see.”
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“Why?”
“Because Lady Anne does not want her cousin to marry the man they are forcing her to marry, and I can help her stop that.”
“Aye? Ye can do that?”
“I can if you will help me. You are her guardian spirit, are you not?”
“I am,” he said, regarding Anne thoughtfully. “ ’Tis true she doesna want her cousin tae marry him, and I dinna like the man much m’self.”
“Then you’ll not stop me,” Catriona said happily as she flitted over to the gelding and settled herself comfortably in its mane. “Come along, Fergus Fishbait,” she said, patting the place beside her. “There is room for two, and you will not want to miss what happens next.”
Grasping the reins high at the bit, Anne plodded on, muttering imprecations at herself for her carelessness both in lingering so long and in not paying attention to her path, until she saw a thicket ahead in the gathering dusk. Remembering that the track skirted the trees for a time before fording a brook at the foot of the hill, she realized she still had at least three miles to go and sighed again at her foolishness.
Patting the horse’s nose, she muttered, “Walking serves me right, I expect, but I’m sorry that you have suffered, too.”
Ten minutes later, as she approached the ford, a noise from the thicket startled her, and before she could gather her thoughts, mounted men galloped out of it and surrounded her.
“Sakes, lass, now see what ye’ve done,” Fergus exclaimed in dismay.
“Hush,” Catriona said. “Watch now, for this is just how I planned it.”
Anne peered at the men through the fast fading light, trying to find at least one among the half dozen or so whom she recognized. They were a ragged lot, though, and she could not make out any familiar face.
“ ’Tis a fine looking pony, that ’un,” one of them said, sliding from his saddle to catch her by an arm.
“Unhand me,” Anne said firmly. “You would be foolish to harm me without first learning who I am.”
“Faith, lass, I dinna mean tae harm ye,” he said with a chuckle. “However, if ye’d like tae favor me wi’ one wee kiss, I’d go tae me bed a happy man.”
Anne stood still, giving him look for look. Her horse twitched nervously, but she maintained her steady gaze until the man blinked and glanced uncertainly at his companions.
“Let go of her.”
The deep, calmly authoritative voice came from none of the men gazing down at her but from nearer the trees amongst which they had hidden.
The man gripping her arm released her at once. Looking anxiously past the other horsemen as they made way for the one who had spoken, he sputtered, “I didna mean the lass nae harm, sir. Ye ken fine, we wouldna—”
“Step away from her.”
“Aye, I’m steppin’ straightaway,” he said, suiting action to words as he added, “but ye’ll agree that that be a fine piece o’ horseflesh she be riding.”
“Take yourselves back into the trees, lads. I’ll deal with the lass,” the newcomer said evenly.
No one argued. The riders vanished back into the thicket, leaving Anne alone with her unknown rescuer.
“Who are you?” he asked, still sitting at his ease in the saddle.
“Anne Ellyson,” she replied, gazing up at him as she stroked her horse to soothe it. She could see little other than his shape and size. He seemed very tall, though, especially on horseback, and he was broad across the shoulders.
“Ellyson,” he said thoughtfully. “Would you be kin to Armadale?”
“He was my father.”
To her surprise, a choke of laughter escaped him before he stifled it and said soberly, “I am truly sorry for your loss, Lady Anne, but although you may not realize it, this situation contains an element of humor.”
“I thought your men were reivers,” she said.
“They are.” He dismounted, standing much too close to her.
He seemed somehow even taller than before. Anne frowned at him, feeling as if she had to look a very long way up to do so. “But you speak like a gentleman.”
“Some say that I am a gentleman. I used to be one, anyway.” With a slight bow, he added, “My name is Christopher Chisholm. My friends call me Kit.”
Chapter 4
Shock swept through Anne. “But you can’t be Sir Christopher. He’s dead!”
“I’ve heard as much from others,” he said, “but I assure you, I’m no ghost.”
“Faith, but this is marvelous then,” she exclaimed. “If you are truly Sir Christopher Chisholm, you are the solution to our greatest problem!”
“I doubt that, my lady. I have problems of my own with which I must deal, not the least of them being my promise to help those lads yonder in their mission tonight. As soon as the moon rises—”
“Do you truly mean to help them steal someone’s cattle? But whose?”
His amusement plain now, he said, “Why, yours, Lady Anne.”
“Mine?”
“Aye, for we were told that with Armadale having passed to his reward, Ellyson Towers has no master, so the reiving will be particularly good there.”
She stared at him, bereft of words.
“It is time you returned home, I think,” he added blandly, putting a hand to the small of her back. The sensations his touch stirred in her addled her thoughts. For once in her life, she was unable to think of a single thing to say.
“Willie,” he said sharply, “lend me your horse. I’ll see her ladyship home.”
An unhappy voice muttered, “My horse?”
Anne said swiftly, “There is no need for you to do any such thing, sir. I can see myself home.”
“You were going the wrong way,” he pointed out gently.
She felt no fear of him, but something in his manner made her wary, and she wished she could read his expression more clearly in the fading light. Nonetheless, she stifled her annoyance and said reasonably, “I now reside with my aunt, Lady Carmichael, at Mute Hill.”
He was silent for a long moment, but when his man rode up to them through the shadows, he repeated the name Carmichael thoughtfully.
“Yes, that’s right,” Anne said. “Lady Carmichael of Mute Hill House.”
“Why d’ye need me pony, Kit?”
Anne could not make out the lad’s features, but he was much shorter and slighter of build than Sir Christopher. He also sounded younger.
Sir Christopher said, “I’m going to put her ladyship on my horse, because I know his manners are more what she is accustomed to than that beast of yours.”
Before the lad could reply, Anne interjected, “But, really, sir—”
“Don’t argue with me, my lady,” he said in a tone stern enough to put her forcibly in mind of her father.
“But—”
“If you mean to tell me that you will be perfectly safe by yourself, I’d advise you to save your breath for a more useful purpose. Even if that horse of yours had four good legs under him, we have already proven that you are not safe on your own. Moreover, I’m in no mood for fratching.”
“But what about my horse?” she asked.
“We’ll lead it, of course. It can easily keep up if it need not bear weight.”
“What about me?” the lad demanded. “What am I tae do?”
“You will await my return here with the others, if they still want me to ride with them,” Chisholm said. “Talk to Sammy. The moon won’t rise for another hour or more, and I should return shortly after that. If the others decide to ride on, you wait here and try to persuade Sammy before he leaves to let me meet with him and his lads later to have our talk.”
“Och, aye, but he willna like it,” Willie said. “As for me sitting here in the dark waiting for ye if the others ride on, I’ll no like that. There be boggarts about!”
Quietly, Anne said, “You might tell your friends that despite what they have been told, the cattle, sheep, and horses at Ellyson Towers are well guarded.”
“Are they now?” Willie sai
d. “And how would a slip of a lass like yourself be knowing aught about that?”
“Because they are my beasts.”
“Are they now?”
“They are,” Sir Christopher said, chuckling. “She is Lady Anne Ellyson, Armadale’s daughter.”
Willie gave a low whistle. “An ye do say, m’lady, that…”
He fell tactfully silent, but Anne did not hesitate.
“I say there are plenty of men guarding my beasts,” she said, “and prime sleuthhounds as well, eager to catch the scent of any reiver foolish enough to think my father’s death might have undone his careful guardianship. Would you have dared to attack the Towers whilst Armadale lived?”
“Nay, never!” Willie exclaimed.
“Then have a care now,” Anne said.
“Aye, your ladyship, I’ll tell them. Thank ye kindly.”
As they watched his shadowy figure dash back and disappear into the thicket, Sir Christopher said on a note of laughter, “I commend your methods, lass. You handled that with great aplomb. Are your cattle truly so well guarded?”
“Do you think I would tell you if they were not?”
He chuckled, and she realized she had been hoping to hear the sound again. Before she was aware of his intent, two strong hands caught her around the waist and lifted her to his saddle, leaving her feeling strangely breathless.
“Can you settle yourself, or do you require further assistance?” he asked.
“I’ll manage,” she said. “Your saddle is larger than mine, but I’ve often used my father’s or brother’s saddle.”
He swung onto Willie’s horse, steadying it as he did. “You have a brother?”
“Sir Andrew Ellyson was my brother,” she said. “He died last year at Carter Bar in a clash with some of King Henry’s men.”
“So you are doubly bereft,” he said, all humor gone.
She swallowed, caught off guard by a wave of grief. “M-my mother and two little sisters d-died, as well, of the same horrid fever that took my father,” she said, striving to keep her voice under control even as she wondered what had stirred her to reveal so much.
