Amanda Scott (20 page)

“He’s in a league with MacCrichton. That’s what he wants with you. But I have some business with him that must take precedence. Did he name a time?”

“No, he just said he would find me.”

“We’ve got him then. You are not to go outside the castle walls, lass—not to meet him, not for anything at all. Do you understand me?”

“Aye, but—”

“No buts. You will obey me in this, or I will make you sorry you did not. Both Breck and MacCrichton are dangerous men, and whatever they want with you, neither one means you any good. You’ll obey me, Mary Maclaine.” The last words sounded more like a growl than a simple statement.

She sighed. “Very well then, I won’t try to meet him.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said. “I’ll meet him for you.” But although he rode out at once with a party of men, risking the wrath of the parson by missing the service, they returned long before dark without finding a trace of Allan Breck.

Mary knew that Duncan set men to watch for Allan, but despite those precautions, she received a second message the following Friday:

“Mary, I’ve offered to give Ewan MacCrichton the names of several people who will swear they know you promised to marry him. He means to sue you for breach of promise and with their testimony, he will succeed. Meet me by nightfall or
y
ou will be sorry. A”

S
TANDING IN HER BEDCHAMBER
that Friday afternoon, Mary stared at Allan’s second message with irritation, thinking that he was the most arrogant, cocksure man she knew. Nonetheless, in honesty, she felt angrier with Ewan MacCrichton.

She had never seriously believed Ewan’s threat to sue her before a magistrate. At the time, he had obviously been blustering, trying to intimidate Duncan into abandoning her. The thought that Ewan apparently believed a court of law would compel her to marry him astonished her. That one actually might do so was inconceivable.

She crumpled Allan’s note in her hand and looked thoughtfully at the maid who had brought it.

“I hope it wasna bad news, miss,” the girl said.

“Who gave it to you, Ailis?”

“One o’ the herds brought it in to the kitchen, miss. Said a man he didna ken gave it to him yesterday.”

“Near here?”

“Nay, miss, ’twas up the brae, he said. Now that the week’s snow has begun to melt, the herd and his collies was searching for stray sheep, to bring them inside the walls. A chappie came along and helped him catch one, he said. Asked him was he from the castle, and said the herd could save him a trip. Did he do wrong, miss?”

“No, Ailis, I just wondered how you came by the note.”

She knew that Duncan would not remain long in ignorance of the message. Indeed, it was because she wondered why he had not intercepted it already that she had questioned Ailis. Nevertheless, and despite Allan’s threat to make her sorry if she betrayed him, she went down to the library to look for Duncan.

Balcardane was alone, however, sitting behind the desk. He looked up when she entered and smiled at her. “Good day to you, lass. Were you looking for me?”

She smiled. “No, my lord. I was searching for your son.”

“He’s out and about somewhere, but he’ll be in for dinner.”

“Is he away from the castle, sir?”

“I expect he is in the estate office, or more likely, in the stable. Can I not be of service to you? You’re such a quiet lass, I scarcely ever see you except in the dining parlor table. I hope you are comfortable here.”

“Yes, sir, thank you, I am quite comfortable. You are very kind to let me stay at Balcardane.”

“Bless my soul, there’s no kindness in it. Duncan said you needed a safe place, and there’s none safer than this in all of Appin. Stands to reason, don’t it? In Stewart country a Campbell house has to be well fortified if anyone is to have any peace. I harbor no ill feeling toward anyone, so long as he’s peaceable, lassie, and you are certainly that. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you like.”

“Thank you, sir,” Mary said. “I did not mean to interrupt you, so if you will excuse me now, I think I will fetch my cloak and go out for a walk. I have taken little exercise this week because of the snow, but most of it seems to have melted now, so if I can pick my way amongst the drifts and puddles, perhaps I can put some roses in my cheeks.”

He warned her not to catch a chill, but he made no effort to delay her. Convinced that she would deal better with Duncan if she could tell him about the message before someone else did, she hurried upstairs to fetch her cloak and clogs, then went outside and made her way across the slushy courtyard to the stable.

Since her arrival she had learned that most of the important outbuildings at Balcardane stood inside the castle walls for protection, and the most prominent was the stable. A small barn to store hay and oats flanked it on one side; and, lined up on the other, against the castle’s north and west walls, stood a byre for the cows, pigs, and sheep kept for household purposes; a smithy; and a brewery. Next to these, nearest the house, stood the bakehouse and the dairy.

Inside the stable, familiar horsy smells assailed her nose, and Mary soon found her quarry at the end of the inner row of stalls, watching while Chuff carefully examined the hooves of a handsome bay colt.

Duncan raised his eyebrows at the sight of her. “I trust you were not thinking of going outside the castle walls, mistress.”

“No, sir, I came in search of you. What is Chuff doing out here?”

“He thinks he’s of more use in the stable than in the kitchen, and I am beginning to believe him. He’s been taking very good care of my colt.”

“I have that,” Chuff said, grinning over his shoulder. “I’m a dab hand, I am.”

“Are you, my dear? You certainly seem to have made friends with that colt.”

“Aye, I have, and all. He likes me fine, he does. I take care o’ the other horses, too, and I muck out stalls and fetch hay and oats, and Jock said I—”

“Silence, brat,” Duncan said. “What do you want with me, mistress?”

Glancing back at Chuff, whose attention had already returned to the colt, she said quietly, “Perhaps we could walk outside, sir. I have taken little exercise this week and I utterly yearn for a walk in the fresh air.”

He nodded, gesturing for her to precede him. She heard him say something to the boy, and then heard his footsteps in the straw before he caught up with her.

Outside the stable, she hesitated, uncertain which way to go. The courtyard was a mire of brown slush and icy cobblestones.

“We can walk down to the loch if you like,” he said. “The path is open, and I’ve got men out clearing the road and the coach track leading down to it.”

She knew he meant that no harm would come to her while she was with him, but she agreed without comment, too grateful for an opportunity to get outside the castle’s formidable walls to chance saying anything that might make him change his mind. For that reason, she walked silently and without mentioning the message she had received until they were halfway to the loch. Then she drew the note from her sleeve, and silently I handed it to him.

Unfolding it, he read swiftly as they walked, and she heard a quick intake of his breath when he realized what message the note contained.

“Who dared bring this to you?”

“I was curious myself about how it got inside the castle,” Mary said calmly, “but it seems to have arrived in all innocence. One of your shepherds was out with his dogs yesterday, gathering sheep that had strayed during the storm. He told Ailis today when he brought it that a man who helped him catch one gave him the note so the man could save himself a trip to the castle.”

He frowned. “I told Martha and most of my own men to let me know about any messages that arrived from strangers, but I certainly did not make a great noise about it. If the herd gave it to Ailis, and she said nothing to Martha …”

“Ailis cleans my room, sir,” Mary said. “She brought it up as a kindness. I don’t think either she or the shepherd should bear any blame for this.”

He flashed her an enigmatic look. “Afraid I’ll eat them, are you?”

“Your temper is legendary,” she reminded him.

“You don’t seem frightened by it.”

“No, but I don’t suppose you have ever directed the full blast of it at me.”

“Take care that you don’t give me cause,” he warned, but he smiled when he said it, and the warmth of that smile surprised her. He said thoughtfully, “Where does Breck expect you to meet him? He leaves that particular detail out of the message, as if he expects you to know the right place.”

“If he expects that, he is mistaken, for I have no idea. In truth, I was more distressed by the news that Ewan intends to pursue his suit than I was about meeting Allan. I wish you would believe that I have no desire to meet with him.”

“I do believe you,” Duncan said, adding bluntly, “I also believe he will send another message. Would you agree to meet him if it would help us capture him?”

“Aye, sir, I would, and without misgiving. He is a confessed murderer, and although he seems to think I will protect him because we are kinsmen of sorts, I feel no obligation to do so. Not only do I want him to pay for Ian’s death, but I never liked him and I do not believe in blind loyalty.”

“You surprise me. I did not think you would betray him so easily. As I recall, you were reluctant to tell me about the first message.”

“I had scarcely had time to think about that message before you confronted me with the fact that you knew about it,” Mary pointed out. “If I did not tell you at once, it was because I feared you might murder him.”

“I might.”

“Then I can only tell you, sir, that I do not condone murder no matter who commits it. Moreover, don’t count Allan Breck caught before he is in your net. Men have tried to trick him before, many times.”

He did not reply, and they walked silently until they came to the confluence of the loch and one of the burns flowing out of the hills. Snowdrifts still hugged the leafless shrubbery, but the day had warmed noticeably, and Mary noted a sun-filled hollow where nettles, some celandine, and a pair of hardy dandelions had easily survived the storm. She drew a long, appreciative breath of the tangy fresh air as she gazed out at the waters of the loch, sparkling blue beneath the sunlit sky.

“Still thinking about MacCrichton?” Duncan asked.

She looked at him. “I did not think he would pursue me like this. Of course, Allan may have said that about Ewan only to frighten me. I cannot imagine who he thinks can testify. Allan certainly can’t. He never heard me promise anything.”

“He cannot testify, because the minute he appears near any courtroom they will hang him from the nearest tree,” Duncan said.

“Can a court force me to marry Ewan, sir?”

He did not reply, and his hesitation told her more than she wanted to know.

At last, slowly, he said, “A court might well find that you
should
marry him. Unless you enlist someone to fight for you, I doubt if you can prevail against him.”

“But surely, the rules of polite society have not changed,” she protested. “A lady can still change her mind, can she not?”

“One would think so,” he agreed, “but your position, as I understand it, may be slightly more tenuous. Although I still don’t understand why he is so set on marrying you, even I heard you agree at least once that you and he are betrothed.”

Stiffening with indignation, she said, “If you are referring to your entrance upon that horrid scene at Shian Towers, may I remind you, sir, that he was beating me!
He
told you we were betrothed. I did not!”

“The point is, lass, that you did not deny it. Moreover, I’ll remind
you
that I was not the sole witness to that scene.”

“That’s a mere quibble, sir, and you know it. I was in no position then to say anything, particularly since the first thing you said to me was that I was getting what I deserved. I certainly never thought you would support me against him.”

“Still, you do agree even now that you promised to marry him,” Duncan said, his voice still maddeningly calm, “and since he can produce witnesses, even without the ones Breck promises to produce, he can make a case for breach of promise. A magistrate still might determine that you have the right to change your mind, of course, particularly since MacCrichton cannot produce any formal betrothal.”

“Thank heaven he never asked me to sign one,” she said fervently. “I don’t doubt that I would have done so.”

“Well, don’t volunteer that information to any magistrate. As I see it, you have a slight chance of winning, but only if MacCrichton does not get his hands on you before his case gets to a court. If he succeeds in consummating the union, he will have the most powerful weapon of all, because no magistrate would refuse then to find in his favor, and would believe he was doing you a great favor.”

“A favor,” she said scornfully. “Turning me over to a man who will treat me shamefully would be no favor, sir.”

“In the eyes of the court, however, a woman is always better off married than not married,” he said. “Marriage provides her with protection, after all, and since few men want to marry damaged goods, if the man who rapes her agrees to marry her, that is universally thought to be the best resolution. And in this case, when he had a promise of marriage, as well … Not that any of that will matter if he lays hands on you, of course. Once he gets through with you, even you won’t want—”

“Enough,” she said, grimacing. “I understand what you are telling me, sir, but such a viewpoint seems most unfair to women.”

“Then I suggest that you apply to Rory Campbell for help. Not only is he married to your cousin, but he is still a member of the Barons’ Court, is he not?”

“You know he is, but that court concerns itself generally with land matters, not with the finer points of marriage law.”

“Still, Rory can hire an experienced man of law to represent you, and oversee his actions. Rory’s influence alone—”

“I don’t want to ask him,” Mary said hastily. “I have no real claim on his protection, you know, although I confess that I have been thinking more favorably lately about going to join my aunt and the rest of them in Perthshire.”