by Amanda Scott
“Enough!” Alex roared. “You just want to turn the subject from your own ill-doing, but by the Rood, I won’t allow it! I am already in control here, Rob. My lads will take over Trailinghail and search it top to bottom for that young woman. If she is here, I will take her. If not, you may be sure I will apologize for accusing you.”
“You won’t take this tower, Alex. It is impregnable, and your men are outside its wall, where they will remain. You may breach the barmkin, but the walls are eight feet thick. And if you try to breach them, you will have to do it whilst our lady grandmother is here, for she won’t leave. Would you endanger her?”
“Again, you try to change the subject. I mean only to take Dunwythie’s daughter to Dumfries with me and arrange her safe return to her family. If you think our lady grandmother will disapprove of that, you are mistaken. She knows I am head of our family, and she respects that position. Moreover, returning the lass will end any conflict before it begins.”
“I doubt that,” Rob said grimly. “Now that the notion of taking custody of her has occurred to you, I think you would try to use her yourself to force Dunwythie’s submission. Even if you did not—”
“Damnation, Rob, I am not such a fool. Can you look me in the eye and swear to me that you did not abduct that young woman?”
“Nay, why should I, when I did,” Rob said, beginning to capture the glimmerings of a plan that might let him outwit Alex.
“So you do have her!” Alex exclaimed, his voice rising again. “But you know perfectly well that you denied having any part in her abduction.”
“You never did listen well,” Rob said. “You should strive to do so. I simply pointed out how quick you were to believe I had taken her. And for no better reason than that Dunwythie had accused the Maxwells. If you recall, you are the one who told me to do whatever was required to force his submission. You raised a din when I failed to persuade him, saying I should have done aught that was necessary. So I thought about how I might force him, and I made a list of what must be important to him. Sithee, I had met his daughters. Both are beautiful young women, and at present, Mairi is his heiress, although his wife may yet give him a son before he dies.”
“Fetch the lass to me at once,” Alex said sternly.
“I won’t even tell you where she is. Nor will I let you search my tower.”
“I should think not,” Lady Kelso said, entering the chamber on her words and thus making Rob, at least, aware that she must have inched the door ajar to overhear them. “Why would you want to do such an obtrusive thing, Alexander?”
“He is holding Dunwythie’s daughter hostage here,” Alex said. “I mean to return her to his lordship, who may even now be on his way back to Dumfries.”
“Then you should hie yourself home, my lad,” she said. “If Dumfries is in danger of attack, it is your sworn duty to protect the town, is it not?”
“I mean to search Trailinghail first.”
“My faith, you impudent man, do you dare to think I would be standing here as I am if that young woman were here?”
“With respect, madam, I doubt you would know aught about it.”
“Respect?” Her mobile eyebrows shot up. “Respect is what you call it when you threaten to send your rough men to paw through my belongings in search of heaven knows what evidence of her presence! Prithee, have the goodness to recall that I know everyone here at Trailinghail. If Robert were holding a woman hostage here, do you think not one of them would have sent word to Dumfries to inform me of such an outrageous ill-doing?”
Rob felt his own eyebrows drifting upward and took firm control of them. He could not be sure of controlling his voice, however, so he kept silent.
Alex was staring at their grandmother, his suspicion as clear as Rob’s own.
But Alex lacked the courage to challenge her.
He drew a long breath and let it out before he said, “In troth, madam, I do not know what to believe. But I will say this. I mean to keep watch on this tower from now until Dunwythie gets his daughter back. Meantime, my men will search anyone who leaves, male or female. However, if you choose to depart, madam, you may.”
“Faith, sir, as if anyone here would dare try to stop me!”
“Be that as it may, my rules will apply to you and to your Eliza no less than they apply to everyone else. Having no more to say, I will bid you both goodnight.”
With that, he strode angrily from the room.
“Dear me,” Lady Kelso said. She might have said more, but Rob put a finger to his lips and moved silently to the door. Easing the latch up with one hand, he jerked the door open with the other to see Alex facing him, mouth agape.
“Ah, good, you hadn’t gone far,” Rob said mildly. “I just wanted to tell you that you are welcome to sleep here as you had planned. Gibby told your servants to put your things in the room opposite mine. I am sure they will have seen to your comfort, but Gib did tell them that they must sleep in the hall. The tower is not large enough to provide chambers for our visitors’ servants.”
“Thank you, but I don’t want a guard at my door looking to prevent my creeping about the place in search of your guest,” Alex said stiffly. “I shall sleep outside with my men. But we are not leaving, Rob, if that is what you had hoped.”
“Well, it is,” Rob answered frankly. “But I knew it was too much to expect.”
Alex did leave then, still in a huff, and Rob listened by the open doorway until his footsteps faded in the distance.
Then he went back into the room, shut the door, and faced his grandmother.
“You shock me, madam,” he said, grinning.
“Do I? I vow, I did not shock myself at all. Indeed, I barely told a falsehood. Would you have placed a guard at his door?”
“Two stout fellows at least, aye. I fear that he does mean to camp outside the gate, though. That could make things difficult for a time.”
“Laying siege to us, as it were?”
“Aye, although our people lie in no danger.”
“Can you be sure of that, Rob?”
“I have commanded Alex’s men more often than he has over these past few years,” Rob said. “They trust me and would most likely balk at an order to harm anyone here should Alex be daft enough to issue one. They’ll be a damned nuisance out there, but they’ll behave. So will Alex, especially if you mean to stay here, Gran. I do hope you will.”
“I will, my dear. ’Tis far more interesting than Dumfries or Glasgow. In faith, I am very glad I came. If you need me to aid in the lady Mairi’s protection, you need only say so. I quite like her.”
“So do I, Gran.”
She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Then you must find a way out of this mess, Robbie. It is of your own making, as you know only too well. Moreover, if Dunwythie returned to Annandale meaning to raise the other defiant lairds to follow him, you have little time.”
A rap at the door startled Rob so that he turned and jerked it open, expecting to see that Alex had somehow returned unheard.
Gibby stood there, his eyes wide. “Should I no ha’ rapped the door, laird?”
“Come right in, Gibby,” her ladyship said cordially. “What is it?”
“’Tis that knacker what were here afore, laird,” Gib said. “He would talk wi’ ye, he said, on a matter o’ some import. He wouldna tell me what it was, though.”
Lady Kelso said, “Knacker? Do you mean Parland Dow?” Turning to Rob, whose thoughts were racing, she added, “Sithee, he came with me, my dear. Said he preferred to travel with a larger party, but I did think it strange that he was off away from Dumfries so soon. I vow he’d not been in town but a day or two. Then, when we drew near, he stopped at Fin Walters’s cottage. Said he always sleeps there.”
“And so he does. Fetch him in, Gib, and fetch a jug of whisky, too,” Rob added. To her ladyship, as the boy ran off, he said gently, “He may provide the answer to a problem I need to solve.”
“You mean Dow, of course,” sh
e said. “You cannot mean Gibby.”
“Aye. For one thing, Dow collects gossip. For another, he carries messages.”
“I begin to see that I must leave at once, lest I cast a damper,” she said, moving to bestow a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll bid you goodnight, my dearling, and prithee sleep well when you do. I am confident that you will soon sort this all out.”
She was more confident than Rob was.
Not long after she left, Gib ushered Dow in. Rob saw by the man’s expectant expression that he had something to say. “Pour the whisky for us, Gibby,” Rob said. “This will help us both sleep well tonight,” he said to the knacker with a smile.
Shooing Gibby away when he had filled two mugs, and making sure he had gone, Rob shut the door again and said, “What brings you back to us so soon?”
“Well may ye ask,” Dow said, setting down his mug and wiping his lips with a sleeve. “It were seeing his lordship in Dumfries—Dunwythie, that be—and learning he believed the Maxwells had his daughter. I kent fine ye’d want to hear that. So, when her ladyship took her leave, I attached myself to her party. Imagine my surprise when she said she were bound not for Glasgow but for Trailinghail.”
“I am gey glad to see you, and you were right to think I might have need of you. Sithee, I have ken of the lady Mairi since last we saw each other, and would return her to her father. But quietly, so as not to stir strife amongst the clans. ’Tis better, I think, that he have her safe before others learn she is no longer missing. However, I hear he means to return to Dumfries with an army. That must not be.”
Dow nodded fervently. “’Twas why I came, for ’twould be a great disaster, sir, if Annandale attacked Maxwell—or Maxwell attacked Annandale, come to that. Sithee, the lairds say if they must pay an additional sum first to the sheriff and next, nae one doots, to Archie o’ Galloway… well, where does it end? ’Tis nobbut a Maxwell scheme to steal gelt from Annandale, they say, and bad cess to Maxwell!”
Rob smiled. “I wonder, do they say the same of Archie the Grim?”
“Nay, they do not, and I’ll tell you why, sir. The Lord o’ Galloway ha’ tamed that irascible place, they say. Sakes, but raiders from Galloway used to be near as fierce toward the dales as the English ha’ been. With Douglas controlling Galloway and the English resting quiet, men can plant crops again for the first time in decades. They be willing to pay Douglas an he asks them to. Some say he willna ask but will allow the present schemes to continue as they always have.”
“You understand the situation, then, and one can hope you are right about Douglas,” Rob said. “I want you to carry a message to Dunwythie for me. Tell him I have found his daughter. If he will send his army home and go back to Annan House, I will take her to him there straightaway. If he agrees to my request, you will hie yourself to Dumfries and tell the lads at Alan’s Tower that you need a smoky fire set to signal me. We’ll easily see the smoke from here.”
“Sakes, sir, even if that be true and ye could winkle her away from wherever she be now, Dunwythie will think ye took her yourself. The man be beside himself wi’ rage and he wields the power o’ the pit and gallows. Ye’d be risking your life to offer him such, let alone to take his daughter right to his door!”
“I have met the man,” Rob said. “He is well known to be generally a man of peace. So, I must hope he will agree that having his daughter back and keeping the peace are worth more than starting a great clan war to avenge her abduction.”
“But what if he does not agree? How will I let ye ken that?”
“You need not, because his refusal will make no difference to what happens next. The sheriff will wait here, as he has planned to do. And when Dunwythie reaches Dumfries, he will learn that the Maxwells are here in force.”
“I expect he’d assume she were here, too, then,” Dow said, nodding.
“Aye, so sithee now, if Dunwythie said he’d lead his army from Annandale as soon as he could raise it, I make that a matter of three days, four at most. If you leave for Dumfries at dawn, you should be there in good time to meet him.”
“Aye, easily.” Dow nodded again and drank the rest of his whisky
“If he is not there yet when you arrive, you must ride to meet him,” Rob said, “Then, you must build a fire near where you meet and where we can see its smoke from here—some hilltop or other. I doubt you will set any forest afire if you do.”
“Nay, it be still too damp for such. Forbye, I’m thinking a fire wherever I’d light one would smoke like the devil, as wet as most wood is by now.”
“Good, then go. If the sheriff’s men ask questions when you leave, tell them I’d told you I had more work here for you if you found extra time. You just stopped on your way to some other place to see how much work there might be.”
“Aye, sure, they willna trouble me,” Dow said, making his bow to leave.
Rob said, “I owe you for this, Parland Dow. I shan’t forget it.”
“Sakes, sir, I may be helping ye to your death. Ye willna thank me for that.”
Holding the door open, Rob smiled and bade him goodnight.
Dow’s parting words echoed in his mind, but Mairi’s safety had come to mean more than anything else. If Dunwythie’s army met Alex’s at Trailinghail, the clash might erupt so violently, and other clans join in so quickly, that her father might not even learn that she was there until it was too late.
Clearly, then, the only way to be sure of protecting her now was for Rob to see her safely back to Annan House himself—in effect, to give her up entirely.
If her father decided to hang him for it, so be it. He did not think the man would, but he had been dead wrong about him before.
It was a risk he was willing to take, for Mairi.
Mairi was fidgeting. With her ears attuned to sounds that might mean someone coming upstairs rather than to what anyone in the great chamber was saying, she had for some time contributed little to the conversation.
It did not occur to her that Lady Kelso might also be listening for Rob’s step until she heard Eliza speak loudly to her mistress, as if repeating something.
Looking then toward her ladyship, Mairi saw a twinkle in her eyes.
Lady Kelso said, “Hush, Eliza, I ken fine that you think it is time for bed, but I am not at the brink of my grave yet. I mean to stay up and talk to the laird.”
“Aye, sure, my lady. But be ye sure he’ll be coming up here?”
“Quite sure, but he had not yet had his supper when last I saw him.”
Mairi concealed a grimace. Her ladyship, having invited them to sup with her, had barely taken a bite when she had recalled an important message she had meant to give Rob. With no more than that sharp exclamation, she had hurried away. And that had been that until minutes before, when she had returned.
The remains of her supper were cold, but she did not seem to mind. A truly redoubtable woman, Mairi thought, much as she would like to be one day herself.
She wondered if she ever would be. Her cousin Jenny was sure of her role and was already redoubtable enough to hold her own with Hugh, because Jenny had run her estates for some time under her father’s guidance before her father died.
Mairi had run nothing yet and might never do so.
“But I could,” she told herself. “I know I could. In troth, I believe I know enough now to ask the right questions, at least. And I’d know whom to ask. I just wish I had nerve enough to ask her ladyship what they said below.”
That thought occurred to her while she was still looking at Lady Kelso, and Lady Kelso stared back at her. One dark eyebrow arched. It was query enough.
“I was wondering, madam,” Mairi said. “Your message to the laird must have been gey long. I should not ask about it, I know,” she added hastily.
“Nay, then, child, why not? If one does not ask questions, one learns little. I had no message for him, as doubtless you guessed. ’Twas nobbut my cursed curiosity getting the better of me, as my dear husband was wont to say.”
> “But I am curious, too,” Mairi said.
“I ken that fine,” her ladyship said cordially. “But we must both be patient until Rob comes to us. What I heard is not for me to repeat. But he will tell us all about it, and more, I’m thinking. Parland Dow wanted to see him when I left.”
“The knacker is back? So soon?”
“Aye, and I think Rob was glad to hear it. But tell me more about your family, my dear. I should know Annan House and Dunwythie Mains, I expect, since my Bruce forebears all lived in Annandale. But my lot left when I was small.”
Eliza clicked her tongue. But Mairi willingly complied with her ladyship’s wishes until at last they heard Rob’s quick footsteps on the stairway.
Rob was still munching sliced mutton and bread with butter when he entered what had become his grandmother’s chamber to find the four women seated on settle and stools, chatting amiably.
Mairi was looking toward the door when he opened it, so he knew she had been listening for his step.
“All is well,” he said. “I expect the sheriff and his men will camp outside the gate until he grows tired of it. But we are safe enough in here.” Looking at Mairi again, he said, “I want to talk to you privately.”
“By my faith, Robert Maxwell,” Lady Kelso said. “You cannot be private with her. You have done her enough harm already.”
“Nevertheless, madam, she has already tried to escape. And, with the sheriff at the gate, I want to be sure she has better sense than to view him as a rescuer.”
“You need not fear that, sir,” Mairi said. “I would not trust the sheriff or his men to treat me kindly. Nor would I trust them to ask my father to fetch me, or him to trust them if they did. To be a prize of war is not a role I yearn to play.”
He nodded, believing she did understand. But he still wanted to talk with her. “If you will take my advice then, my lady, you would ready yourself now for bed and sleep,” he said. “Fin Walters is below, waiting to take Annie to her cottage as he usually does. As loyal as my people are, I cannot doubt that Alex will soon know you are here in the tower. He won’t get in, but I’d liefer keep to our usual routine.”