by Amanda Scott
“I told ye Jonah were near,” Fergus said righteously.
“Aye, and ye told us Eustace were Claud’s mortal,” Maggie said. “But as ye heard, ’twas nobbut Kit Chisholm, just as I said.”
“Aye,” Claud admitted, “and I couldna let ye kill Kit and suffer banishment for my sake. His death would also ha’ meant Catriona had failed in her task, and I couldna let that happen, because the truce betwixt the Merry Folk and the Helping Hands would ha’ died, and ye’d worked too hard tae build that truce.”
Maggie eyed him with new respect. “I still dinna ken how ye managed it.”
He shrugged. “I waited until ye grew angry, and then I compounded me own anger wi’ yours, and took summat from Jonah as well, although I dinna ken exactly what. Ye’re both me parents, after all. Stands tae reason I could learn from ye.”
“Ye did more than learn,” Maggie said gently. “Ye couldna ha’ done it, did ye no ha’ great powers o’ your own, Claud. Ye saved yourself, and nae mistake.”
Claud grinned impishly. “Mayhap even me dad will be proud o’ me now.”
With a wry smile, Maggie said, “I dinna think he’ll tell ye so, however. Whether ye’ve damaged him still remains tae be seen.”
“I shouted his name as I flung that bolt, so I broke his spell and all it affects.”
“Ye’re a good lad,” Maggie said, putting an arm around him and hugging him. “Whether Jonah be proud o’ ye or no, I’m as proud as I can be.”
“Me, too,” Catriona said, snuggling in to get her share.
Claud chuckled, reaching hungrily for her.
“Fergus,” Maggie said, “it be time for me tae let the Chief ken wha’ ha’ passed here, and time too, sithee, for your army tae retreat.”
Kit was still staring at the charred remains of Toby Bell when he heard a snarl and a warning shout, and turned to find Eustace drawing his sword.
As quick as thought, Kit reached toward the nearest man, realizing only as he grasped the fellow’s sword and snatched it from its scabbard that his bindings had somehow disappeared. He had no time to wonder about that, however, because Eustace was lunging murderously toward him.
Throwing up the borrowed sword, Kit deflected his uncle’s blade. As Eustace lunged again, another man leaped at Kit with sword drawn, but a second shot rang out, and the newly threatening weapon arced up and out of its owner’s hand to disappear into the night.
Certain that he did not stand a chance, that the English army would be upon them in moments, Kit glanced over his shoulder, only to see that the torches on the hillside had vanished. Eustace reclaimed his attention at once, and as he set himself to disarm him, he paid scant heed to new rumbles of thunder disturbing the night.
Another shot rang out, and the voice that had warned him before and that he now recognized as Tam’s bellowed, “Hold where ye are or die!”
Eustace ignored the command, lunging again, but this time, Kit caught the blade high, and with a flick of his wrist, slid his own blade down it to its hilt and forced it downward. Closing then, he grabbed his uncle’s wrist and twisted hard, forcing him to drop his weapon. When it fell to the ground, Kit put his foot on it.
“Step back, uncle,” he ordered grimly. “I doubt that any man here, yours or mine, would object if I spitted you right now, after what you’ve tried to do to me.”
Only when he heard Willie’s voice and then Patrick MacRae’s in the distance did he realize that substantial reinforcements had arrived, that the latest thundering had been the sound of their horses racing down the hill.
Looking over the scene, he discovered that while his attention had been riveted on Eustace, Willie’s reivers and men from Dunsithe had surrounded and disarmed Eustace’s men. Some were busily lighting more torches, although the moon was already peeking out from behind the heavy clouds that had gathered so quickly and mysteriously overhead.
The English army had disappeared.
A little to one side of all the others, a slender mounted rider in a voluminous black-hooded cloak held a pistol aimed steadily at Eustace.
With a last glance around to be sure that everything was under control, Kit strode toward the black-clad rider.
“You can put that pistol away now,” he said, his tone low-pitched and neutral despite the strong temptation he felt to pull her from her saddle.
“Did they hurt you?” she asked, keeping her voice low, too.
“No.”
She had pulled the hood as far forward as it could go, yet he knew that any man looking closely would recognize her. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Tam a short distance away, also mounted, his pistol aimed indiscriminately at a group of Eustace’s men. Gesturing to him to approach, Kit turned back to Anne, saying grimly, “I want you to ride back to Mute Hill with Tam… that is, with Berridge. And if you are wise, sweetheart, you’ll let none of these others guess who you are.”
“Ingrate,” she muttered.
He nearly grinned but controlled the impulse, knowing how badly she could be hurt by the additional scandal that would arise if Eustace’s men recognized her.
“I collect that the shot which disarmed my would-be assassin was yours.”
“I still can’t believe my bullet struck his pistol,” she said. “I meant only to frighten him, hoping he would drop the thing before it went off and killed you. I’m still not certain that huge crack of thunder coming almost at the same moment wasn’t what made him lose his pistol, but from the way it flew, I do think I hit it.”
“You shoot better than anyone I’ve ever known, including my friend Patrick MacRae,” he said, “but if you don’t take yourself off before every man here realizes who you are, you will find out just what a poor rein I keep on my temper.”
Tam was beside them now, and he said, “A remarkably fine shot, I thought.”
“It was,” Kit said curtly. “Now, however, I want you to take her back to Mute Hill House as discreetly as you know how. I do not want this latest escapade of hers to be the talk of the Borders by morning.”
“Escapade was it?” Tam said, his eyes twinkling. “She saved your hide, my lad, and you should be showing more gratitude.”
“That is precisely what I told him,” Anne said, raising her chin. “I thought I made an excellent Black Fox, did not you?”
“Aye, I did,” Tam said, smiling at her.
Keeping a firm grip on his temper, Kit said, “You, of all people, should recognize the danger she stands in now. Take her back to the house at once.”
“I won’t leave you,” Anne said, giving him look for look.
“Tam, do as I bid you.”
To his astonishment, Tam said, “ ’Tis certainly your right as her husband to order her return, lad, but I’m thinking ’tis you who should accompany her.”
“Don’t be absurd. I mean to stay here and make sure Eustace and his men cause no more trouble. You are to leave immediately, however,” he said to Anne, “or have you forgotten your vow of obedience so soon after making it?”
“Since I nearly had no husband to obey, I think I might be forgiven,” she said, “and in any event, sir, you waste your breath. If you choose to beat me later, that is your right, of course, but I will not leave now, nor should you expect Lord Berridge to look after me in your stead.”
“She has a point, lad,” Tam said.
Kit was about to argue when Anne’s attention shifted to a point beyond him and she raised her chin even higher. Certain that someone would recognize her, he opened his mouth to remonstrate, only to shut it again with a growl of annoyance when she reached up and pushed back the hood.
He had not been aware of the muttering behind him until it stopped, but the silence now was as heavy as it had been after she lifted her veil at their wedding.
“ ’Tis a wench!” someone said. “By God, ’twas a wench fired that shot!”
Leaning forward, he snapped, “By heaven, I will beat you. Are you mad?”
Her gaze met his as steadily as ever. “You as
ked me that same question once before,” she said. “I’ll say again what I said then. I expect I am mad, but eventually someone will guess I was the one in the cloak. We made no secret of my attire when we left Mute Hill, you see, so if there is to be scandal, I can do naught to stop it, nor can you. Therefore, I thought it better to let them all see the truth from the outset.” With a wry smile, she added, “ ’Tis of such stuff that legends are made, is it not?”
For a moment, he was speechless, but then his sense of the absurd took over, and a moment later, he was laughing. He laughed until tears ran down his cheeks, oblivious to the mutters and exclamations of the crowd surrounding them.
When he stopped laughing, he reached for her and she did not resist when he lifted her from the saddle to stand beside him. Tam was grinning, and smiles lit many of the faces nearby, but the first voice he heard was that of his uncle.
“I am glad you can see humor in such wanton behavior, nephew,” Eustace said tauntingly. “If she were my wife, I’d take a stout switch to her backside for such brazenness. I see no other female here, and since she did not ride with you or with the confounded reivers, one must deduce that she rode through the night with only Berridge for company. To say that this episode will shatter her reputation by morning is but a small description of the reality.”
Kit’s amusement faded, for he knew Eustace was right, but rescue came from an unexpected source when Tam, affecting the tones of Lord Berridge, said frostily, “You forget yourself, Chisholm, and if you do not want to meet your Maker this very night, you will apologize to her ladyship.”
“Why should I?” Eustace sneered. “I spoke nowt but the truth.”
“Aye, in part,” Tam said grimly, “but ’tis plain insolence to suggest that a lady risks her reputation by riding with the man who, until her recent marriage, was her legal guardian.”
Kit’s jaw dropped, and a glance at Anne showed that hers had done the same.
Eustace looked as stunned as they were. “How is that possible?”
“I’m waiting,” Tam said without answering the question. He had holstered his pistol, but as he spoke now, he rested his hand on the grip.
“Aye, then, if it be so, I’ll apologize,” Eustace said grudgingly.
“Take him away, lads,” Kit said. “I’ll talk with him later.”
Still staring in astonishment at the man she knew best as Lord Berridge, Anne said, “Are you truly my cousin Thomas Ellyson, sir?”
“Aye, lass, I am,” he said, dismounting to stand face-to-face with her.
“Then you are the new Earl of Armadale.”
“I am, but my friends call me Tam,” he said. “I’d like you to do so, too.”
“Thank you, but why did you not tell me at once?”
“I’d intended to do that,” he said. “But when I learned that Kit had stopped your cousin Fiona’s wedding, and that he and the uncle he distrusted were under the same roof at Mute Hill House, I decided he might need my help. Since I did not want to confuse matters by appearing as Armadale just then, I used one of Armadale’s many minor titles instead, one I knew he had rarely mentioned.”
“I see.” She thought she understood something else as well. “That is why you kept silent about your past when you were aboard the ship, is it not?”
“It is,” he admitted. “Your father was a proud man, and he had a temper on him that frightened the liver and lights out of me. He could not have prevented my inheriting the title, although that was not an issue at the time, but had he learned of my arrest, he would likely have shunned me and done other such things to make me miserable. My sentence was only three years, and from the start, I meant to escape if I could, so by giving my name as plain Tam Elliot, which is what I did when they caught us, I hoped to keep your father from ever finding out.”
“But three years! How is it that he did not learn at least that you had disappeared?” Anne asked.
He gave a wry smile. “I served little more than half that time, and he rarely paid me more than the smallest heed. Moreover, my people are well trained to disavow knowledge of my comings and goings. Had he inquired, my steward would simply have said I was from home and that it was no business of his to expect my return. With persistence, of course, the truth would have emerged, but your father did no more than send a letter to tell me that your brother had been killed. Of course, I read that letter only recently, upon my return, and since I learned of Armadale’s death at the same time… Well, you can see how it was, I expect.”
“But who looked after things for you whilst you were gone?”
“That same worthy steward,” he said. “I’m afraid I’m a lazy fellow at heart, so my people know even better than I do how to tend my estates. Things might have proved more difficult, of course, had I stayed a prisoner after your father died.”
Another thought occurred to Anne. “Your letter,” she said quietly. “You forbade me to marry without your permission. Will you demand an annulment?”
“Do you want one?”
Feeling heat in her cheeks, her gaze sought Kit and found him talking to Willie and two other, much taller men. He turned as if he felt her watching him, and smiled at her. The smile made her body tingle and warmed her heart.
“No,” she said, “I do not want an annulment.”
“Then we won’t ask for one,” Tam said. “I cannot imagine a better husband for you or a better wife for him.”
“He did threaten to beat me,” she reminded him.
His eyes twinkled. “So he did,” he agreed. “I warrant he will threaten that again, lass, given similar provocation. What would you have me do?”
“I think you can safely leave us to find our own way, sir.”
“I think so, too.”
“You will make an excellent earl,” Anne said, smiling.
“The position carries many responsibilities,” he said. “I warrant I shall need a countess—aye, and an heir!”
“My aunt seems to like you well enough,” Anne said demurely.
He winced. “I think I’ll leave Lady Carmichael to Eustace if he escapes this business with a whole skin,” he said. “I’d prefer someone younger and less fond of her own eccentricities.”
“Do you really think she would take Eustace?”
He shrugged. “She likes men, lass, and she won’t want to be without one for long. Moreover, if he gains control of her money and land, mayhap Eustace will be less of a thorn in everyone’s side.”
“Aye, perhaps.” She glanced away only to smile when she saw Kit striding toward her at last.
He joined them, saying sardonically to the erstwhile Berridge, “Have you settled matters to your mutual satisfaction, my lord Armadale?”
“Aye, I’ll let ye keep her,” the new earl said, affecting a strong brogue. “Art vexed wi’ me, laddie?”
“Nay, how should I be?” Kit said. “Although you might have told me.”
“I did not know about the earldom myself until I reached home and found Armadale’s signet awaiting me. By then, you had already stirred up a hornet’s nest, and I thought I’d be more help if I did not muddy the waters by revealing my new identity to everyone. I warrant Toby would not have been so forthcoming to Armadale as he was to Berridge, and I learned a good deal from Toby.”
“Do you know, just before Anne shot the pistol out of my executioner’s hand and the lightning struck, I’d have sworn I saw Toby sitting on a horse just yonder at the bottom of the hill, exactly where the bolt hit.”
“Well, you cannot have seen him, for I’m sure I would have noted his presence if he was riding a horse. That great lump of lard has not ridden one in years,” Tam said, chuckling. “What have you decided to do about Eustace?”
Kit shrugged. “I’ve no liking for scandal, so for the present, at least, I mean to take him back to Hawks Rig with me. If he means to pursue Lady Carmichael, as he says he does, he can do so from there whilst I keep my eye on him. I’ve invited Fin and Patrick to return with us to Mute Hill tonight
, but we’ll make for Hawks Rig in the morning. I want to show my wife her new home as soon as I may,” he added, putting an arm around Anne’s shoulders.
“Is this the new Lady Chisholm?” a cheerful voice demanded as two men strode toward them from the crowd.
Kit agreed heartily that it was, whereupon Anne found herself confronting two handsome, grinning men nearly as large as her husband.
“Sweetheart,” Kit said, “I’d like to present Fin Mackenzie, Laird of Kintail, and his constable, Sir Patrick MacRae. They came tonight from Dunsithe Castle.”
“Then you are the ones Willie promised to bring,” Anne said, extending a hand to the one called Fin and then to Patrick. “Thank you for coming so swiftly.”
Fin said, “I am glad we could get here in time to help clean up the mess Kit made of all this, my lady, but you are the one he should be thanking for resurrecting Sionnach Dubh long enough to ride to his rescue. From all I’ve heard, the sight of you racing headlong into their midst, not to mention that fantastic pistol shot, stunned them all long enough to save your husband from certain death. Apparently, you also managed to rout the English army that Eustace came to meet.”
“Thank you, sir, but I swear I had naught to do with the English leaving.”
“For the love of heaven, Fin, don’t encourage her,” Kit pleaded.
Fin and Patrick laughed, exchanging glances as if they exchanged silent comments. Then Patrick said, “You must come and visit us soon at Dunsithe, both of you. Our wives will want to meet you, Lady Chisholm. Presently, they are both in a delicate condition, or they would pay you bride visits, for I believe you are distant cousins. Your mother was a Gordon, was she not?”
“Aye, she was,” Anne said, pleased at the thought of meeting two new cousins who were married to friends of Kit’s.
“We’ll go to Dunsithe soon,” he promised, “but first I want to see Hawks Rig put to rights and our people brought safely home again.”
