by Amanda Scott
Sir Hugh stopped at a pew, opened its gate, and gestured for Phaeline to enter. Mairi, just behind her, looked at Hugh to see if she should go next. As he nodded, abrupt movement beyond him diverted Mairi’s attention, and she was suddenly looking into Rob’s eyes.
He had paused to let others in his party precede him into the pew across from and a row ahead of theirs. She saw Lady Kelso just going in, head bowed.
“Go ahead, my lady,” Hugh murmured to Mairi.
Startled, and realizing that her mouth had fallen open, she shut it, gave Hugh an apologetic smile, and hurried to take her place with Jenny and Hugh following.
From where Mairi sat, she could no longer see Rob over the privacy screen. But every time the congregation stood during the Mass, she could see him only too well. Each time, he glanced back at her, and she could not mistake the hunger she saw in his expression.
Wondering how many others might notice, she tried to fix her mind on the priest and the resurrection. But all she could see when she closed her eyes was another pair of eyes, clear pale-blue ones with long dark lashes. She had once thought them cold but knew now how much they could warm.
The service ended at last. Hugh waited for those in front to leave with their prayer stools before he opened the pew gate, stepped into the aisle, and made way for Jenny. As Mairi followed her and stepped past Hugh, she looked for Rob.
She found find him nearer than she had expected.
“Sir Hugh Douglas?” he said, extending a hand to Hugh. “I am Robert Maxwell. If you will permit it, sir, I would beg a word with the lady Mairi.”
Despite the low murmur of voices and footsteps of people leaving, Mairi could hear her own heart pounding in her chest as she looked next at Hugh.
To her astonishment, he said, “Well, lass? Art willing?”
“Aye, sir,” she said. “To talk, at least.”
Hugh nodded, and gestured for her to go ahead of him with Rob. They walked side by side, not talking, until they were outside.
“Come this way,” he murmured then, turning toward an area out of the way of the main portion of the crowd that was heading back toward the center of town.
When they stopped, Mairi kept very still, wondering what he would do next.
She felt as if she could read his mind but wished he would say something to clarify his feelings if not her own.
Remembering the day he had abducted her, when she had been outraged and angry but never truly afraid…
He moved then and touched her hand, shooting a thrill through her that warmed her whole body.
Rob wanted to squeeze her hand but was afraid she would pull away if he did. Moreover, if they looked too intimately engaged, Hugh Douglas would likely intervene. He was watching them, and although his lovely wife watched, too, she was smiling. Hugh was not.
Rob heard Mairi murmur something and bent nearer. “What is it, lass?”
“What did you want to say to me?”
He would have been content with silence, just to be with her. But he had to speak, to be sure she understood. “I wanted you to know that I’m here,” he said. “That is, that I will always come if you need me. You need only send for me.”
“You are kind, sir.”
“Nay, not kind, lass. Don’t ever think me kind, for I am nowt o’ the sort. Sithee, I feared I might never see you again. This is but a step to make it possible that I may. If I do not, it will be a grievous penance to me and a lesson.”
“Prithee, sir, I do not think this is a good idea. I should go.”
“Shall I tell you what I think? I think that if we had met at a different time, in a different way—especially a different way—you might have loved me. But because of what I did and all that has happened since, I spoiled what might have been. You think me arrogant and thoughtless, impulsive and—”
“I do not think you arrogant,” she muttered. “Only that your behavior is sometimes so. Sakes, but you try to control all save your own impulses. Now you even try to tell me what I think and feel. But we cannot stand here any longer. People are watching. I must go.”
“Not yet,” he said, suppressing an urge to grab her, to make her stay. “Tell me first how bad it has been for you. Has your stepmother made you miserable? Does she continue to plague you with her certainty that the bairn she carries is a son? I own I was surprised to see that she would endanger the succession by—”
“Say no more, sir. She is no longer… that is, she never was. I am—” She broke off, blushing deeply.
“You are Dunwythie’s heiress then,” he said. “That is good, my lady, aye—Lady Dunwythie of that Ilk. Now, fewer people will dare to chide you.”
“That is what Jenny said,” Mairi confided. “But I must go.”
Sir Hugh took a step toward them then, so Rob nodded, saying, “Aye, you must. But remember… if you need anything that I can provide…”
“I know. Thank you.”
As she turned away, he remembered one thing more. “What of Gib?” he asked. “Did you bring him with you?”
“Aye, sir, he is here with the servants. But he has not said what he wants to do, and he is welcome to stay. He has impressed my steward, who admires his reliability. And Gib has made himself guardian-in-chief of the wee terror.”
Rob chuckled, saw Sir Hugh striding toward them, and said, “Go now, my lady. Your own guardian approaches.”
“I see him, but we return to Annan House in a few days’ time and will pass near Dumfries,” she said. “I will see that Gib gets to you then if he does decide to return, and if you are still here in the burgh.”
Assuring her that he would be there, he watched as she walked gracefully away, wishing he had the words and time to tell her how she made him feel, that just looking at her put warmth in his heart, that she was all that he was not.
For months before he had come to know her, he had felt an emptiness inside him that was hard to define. In truth, though, he had not recognized the feeling until meeting her had made the difference, before that moment and after, so clear to him.
Although he had immersed himself in projects and duties at Trailinghail, he had felt no true urge to live there full-time until he had been there with her.
Before then, he had itched for more, mayhap to ply his sword in service to the Lord of Galloway, to help Archie speed the remaining English from Scotland.
Still, he had not wanted anything enough to take the first step toward it.
He had therefore wandered from one objective to another, doing many things and nothing, chiefly tasks that Alex had demanded of him. He had nearly always felt angry about something, too—or about nothing in particular that he could name.
Then Fate had brought Mairi into his life.
He had talked with her, laughed with her, and fought with her. Even as she had fought back, even when she confided her own loneliness to him, she had shown that her heart was open to all and that she had soft words even for a harsh man.
She could light up a room by entering it. Sakes, but she lit up his mind whenever some seemingly disconnected thought brought her image into it.
He did not deserve her, and he could not have her. He was not even sure that he loved her, because he did not know how a man knew love when it came. But he did know that he wanted her in his life more than he had ever wanted anything else.
Chapter 18
Later that day, during Easter dinner at Alan’s Tower, Lady Kelso chose to make a commonplace of Rob’s having met the lady Mairi in St. Michael’s Kirk.
“Mairi looked to be in good spirits, I thought,” she said.
“She seemed well enough, aye,” Rob said, matching her matter-of-fact tone. “She and the dowager Lady Dunwythie are visiting Douglas of Thornhill. His lady wife, you will remember, is Baroness Easdale.”
“Lord Dunwythie’s wife should more properly be called simply Lady Dunwythie until the next heir marries, my dearling,” Lady Kelso said. “You may believe me when I tell you that being always referred to as a
dowager gets quickly on a woman’s nerves. And Lady Dunwythie has not yet reached her fortieth year.”
Realizing that she spoke from personal experience, Rob grinned at her but said, “Aged or not, Gran, she is no less a dowager, because Mairi is her father’s heiress and thus is now Dunwythie of Dunwythie. Therefore, when people refer to Lady Dunwythie now, they will be referring to her.”
“Bless me, so Dunwythie of that Ilk is now a woman,” Alex Maxwell said thoughtfully. “’Tis a most thought-provoking situation, is it not?”
Meeting his gaze, Rob felt a distinct chill.
Mairi had rejoined the others after parting with Rob, and tried hard to pay heed to the general conversation as they rode back to Thornhill for their midday meal. She knew the others were burning to ask about her conversation with him.
But although Phaeline glanced at her several times as if she expected Mairi to initiate such a conversation, even she did not comment on their meeting.
Jenny did ask her about it when they reached Thornhill. Having put a heel through the hem of her dress, she asked Mairi to go with her to pin it up again.
“Peg is helping to set out Easter dinner,” Jenny said. “Forbye, this way we can steal a few minutes alone, so you can tell me about what happened in kirk. If you do not want to talk about it, I will understand,” she added as Mairi knelt to attend to the tear. “But Hugh told me who that man was that walked with you afterward. So you must know that I’m all agog to hear what he wanted with you.”
“He is not as you must think he is,” Mairi said. “He was kind to me, though he says I must not describe him so. He wanted to know if Gib is ready yet to return to Trailinghail. I told you about Lady Kelso, Robert’s grandmother. She looked after Gib when his parents died. The sheriff had no place for the lad, she said, so she gave him to Robert.”
“Gave him?”
“To train in some way or other,” Mairi explained. “Gib will have to make his own way, after all, and Robert can do more for him than Lady Kelso can.” She explained how Gib had ended up with her. “He said he likes to learn about places and people, but I think he is likely ready to return to Trailinghail. I’ll arrange for one of the men to take him into Dumfries on our way back to Annan.”
So sure was she that, two days later, when she told Gib of her arrangement, it came as a shock when he said, “But I’d liefer stay at Annan House, m’lady.”
“Now, Gibby—”
“Sithee, we ha’ been gone nigh onto a sennight now, and heaven kens what mischief that wee devil will ha’ got himself into. I should go back to be sure all is well wi’ the lad. Like as no, I’ll ha’ dunamany chances to get back to Trailinghail.”
Rob was sure by the end of that week that Gib had returned to Annan with Mairi, and also sure that he knew his brother’s mind as well as he knew his own.
Although Alex had said no more about the matter, he had clearly taken the news of Mairi’s inheritance to mean that Dunwythie Mains, with only a woman to run the estate, was as good as his. In the intervening days, although Alex had gone about it quietly, Rob learned that he had begun gathering a large force of men.
The discovery frightened and infuriated him. But he ignored his personal feelings and took care not to look at his grandmother when they sat down to supper Saturday evening. He believed that, much as Lady Kelso disliked the idea of Alex seizing Dunwythie Mains, she would accept his explanation that it was his duty as the sheriff and would do little, actively, to support Rob against him.
Accordingly, and with a strong if unusual sense of calm, Rob said, “I ken fine what you mean to do, Alex. But you have not thought this matter through.”
“What matter do you think we are discussing, Rob?”
“Don’t carp. ’Tis plain that you mean to take advantage of the situation as you perceive it to be. With only a woman to guard those estates, you imagine you can seize them, and you will begin with Dunwythie Mains.”
“Seizing estates when their owners flout Crown law is no more than my official duty,” Alex said, just as Rob had expected he would.
“But the same truths apply now that applied before with regard to seizing them,” Rob said. “The new baroness is indeed a woman, but she is wise beyond her years. And the men who serve her are well trained and as competent as our own, if not more so. Do not forget that with the English occupying Lochmaben, the men of Annandale test their mettle more often than our Dumfries lads do. And Lord Dunwythie trained them.”
“Faugh,” Alex said. “Do not you forget that I am well experienced in the field. Moreover, you will be beside me with your sword this time, as you should be.”
“Nay, then, I will not,” Rob said. “Not to attack the young baroness or the innocent people who look after her estates. And certainly not whilst Archie the Grim roams about with heaven kens how many men, not to mention all the others he can quickly summon to his banner if he wants them.”
“We’ve had no word of late that he is in Dumfriesshire,” Alex said.
“But you ken fine that when he moves he moves swiftly,” Rob countered. “Moreover, he is more popular in Annandale and with some folks here than you are, Alex. And with a kinsman at Thornhill to complain of your attack on Dunwythie, he might decide not only to protect Dunwythie Mains but also to punish you for your temerity in lately besieging Trailinghail, which I’d remind you lies in Galloway.”
“He won’t do any such thing, for that was not a true siege,” Alex countered. “Archie will understand better than you do that I could not allow my own brother to flout my commands. I have never set myself against Douglas, nor would I.”
“Sakes, man, you and your men rode across Douglas land to lay that siege you say was not one at Trailinghail,” Rob said. “All the land betwixt Kirkcudbright and mine at Trailinghail belongs to Douglas.”
“Mayhap it is, aye, but I have only to tell Archie that my purpose was to rescue the lady Mairi from you.”
“Rescuing her may have been your intent,” Rob said dulcetly, allowing himself a slight smile. “But if I were you, I’d think twice before mentioning that in support of your so-called right to seize the same lady’s estates.”
Reddening, Alex retorted angrily, “I will do my duty, come what may.”
“Will you? Well, I cannot keep you from trying, but I won’t ride with you.”
“And if I command you to do so?”
Rob shook his head, saying, “I’ll bid you farewell now, brother. I cannot wish you good fortune in your venture, but I do sincerely hope you come through such a mad scheme with your skin still intact.”
“By God, you do not change,” Alex snapped. “You would betray your own clan for the sake of a pretty face and figure. You should be ashamed to call yourself a Maxwell, Rob!”
“My only shame is that I allowed myself to be swayed by such arguments in the past,” Rob said. “If being a Maxwell means attacking an innocent woman to take her rightful property merely to augment a kinsman’s personal power, I think shame to the clan and to the man who instigates such an attack.”
With that, and astonished by the ease with which he had held his temper, Rob strode out to the yard and shouted for his men and horses. An hour later, they were on the road, heading north from Dumfries by the river route to Thornhill.
Two days later, on the first day of May, Mairi was sitting in the ladies’ solar at Annan House with a silent Phaeline when Jopson brought word that Parland Dow had arrived.
“Will I be tellin’ him to be getting on wi’ such tasks as his late lordship and me discussed, my lady, or will ye be having new ones for him?” the steward asked.
As Mairi paused to choose her reply, Phaeline said, “I should think that you must know much better than her ladyship does what orders to give Dow, Jopson.”
Quietly, as if her stepmother had kept silent, Mairi said, “Thank you for telling me, Jopson. Unless aught has changed since you and I talked after my lord father’s death, tell Parland Dow what we decided and let him get on with
it.”
“Aye, mistress,” the steward said. “He did beg a word wi’ ye, though, if ye should find a convenient time to speak wi’ him.”
“I will go to him now,” Mairi said. “I warrant he has brought news.”
“Gossip, more like,” Phaeline said. “The man is ever filled with it. But surely he can share what news he has gleaned with both of us this evening whilst we sup, Mairi. ’Tis what your father would have done.”
That was her newest ploy, to try to get her way by declaring that whatever she wanted was what Dunwythie would have done. Mairi knew, though, that Phaeline was only aching to hear the news just as she was.
“My father would have issued his invitation personally, madam,” she said. “And so must I. That way, we can all three be comfortable whilst we talk.”
“’Tis a kind thought, dearling, but better to let Jopson do it,” Phaeline said with the sweet tone and smile she used whenever she thought she had won.
Mairi did not comment, and ignored her stepmother’s astonishment as she excused herself with an equally sweet smile to go with the steward.
“Does Parland Dow come to us from Dumfries, Jopson?” she asked quietly as they approached the stairway.
“I think he said he had come from Thornhill, m’lady.”
“Thornhill? Thank the Fates you did not tell me that in front of her ladyship!”
“I knew better, mistress, for Dow did say I should tell you in such a way that you would come to him alone. I could not mistake that.”
“Sakes, I hope naught is amiss at Thornhill.”
“Nay, for I did ask him straightaway if all was well with our lady Jenny.”
Relieved, Mairi greeted Dow a few minutes later with a smile and a warm clasp of his hand. “I am glad to see you,” she said.
“Ye mayn’t be so when ye hear what I ha’ to tell ye,” he said with a grimace.
“Jopson assured me all is well at Thornhill. So what is it?”
“’Tis Sir Hugh sending me hotfoot to warn ye them blasted Maxwells be aiming to seize the estates at Dunwythie Mains in the name o’ the Crown,” he said.
