Amanda Scott - [Border Trilogy 2] (17 page)

“Sakes, neither of us could imagine how you came to do such a thing!”

Sibylla described her adventure, and the two spent a cozy time talking of Kit and Dand and the household at Elishaw. If Sibylla passed over the master of Elishaw, noting only her gratitude that he had appeared in time to help her get Kit out of the river, she doubted that Alice noticed any lack.

Alice made no further reference to her own situation as they chatted, and Sibylla did not press her. She knew that her sister lacked the fiercely independent spirit that had inspired Sibylla to reject each of their father’s plans for her future.

Alice would not defy him, but she had given her sister food for thought.

Sibylla hoped she was not emulating Isabel’s tendency to see Fife’s hand in any ill. But, since Fife
had
tried to marry her into the Colville family, she believed he might also have had a hand in Alice’s betrothal. Had he not tried to marry young Rosalie to his man Harald Boyd after failing to force Amalie to marry him?

With these thoughts in mind, another occurred to her with near certainty. If Thomas Colville had found himself a wealthy heiress, Fife must have arranged that as well. Moreover, the connection would somehow benefit Fife.

Deciding that she must help Alice but would have to be subtle about it, Sibylla soon went to change from her riding dress to garb more suitable for supper with their guests. Then she sought out Sir Malcolm and found him having just entered his bedchamber with his manservant.

“What is it, lass?” he asked when she peeped through the doorway.

“Prithee, sir, I would beg a word with you.”

Her father nodded to his man, who bowed and left the room. “What, then, lassie?” Sir Malcolm said, adding, “I like that yellow dress on ye.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said with a smile. “ ’Tis one of the old ones I left here, but I like it, too, although such a pale yellow is usually better on Alice. I own, I am quite jealous of her. She has grown to be a beauty, has she not?”

“Aye, she’s well enough. But I doubt ye came here to praise the lass, so I’ll tell ye to your head, Sibylla, I’ll have none of your argie-bargle.”

“You will do as you think best, sir. I’ve just realized how little I know of her. She was a bairn when I left and is now old enough to marry. The only pity I see is that she must do so before she has had any opportunity to see and be seen.”

“Here now, what are ye saying?” he demanded, scowling.

“I hope I’ve not said anything to vex you,” she said. “Mayhap ’tis only that I’d like to know her better myself before she marries.”

“Ye’ll have plenty of time for that, for she’ll not marry till August. The pair of ye can talk yourselves mute afore then if ye like.”

“Nay, sir, for Isabel will be in Edinburgh by now or as soon as makes no difference. I must return to her service.”

When he bristled, she added hastily, “It will not do for me to anger her after she has been so kind to me, sir. Also, Murray has offered to escort me. As Lady Murray will likewise be with me, my journey need not trouble you in any way.”

“Aye, ye’d be safe in Annabel’s charge,” he agreed, still frowning.

Satisfied with that response, Sibylla said, “I do wish Alice could go with us. Seeing the court would be such a treat for her, and under an eye as watchful as her lady-ship’s, she would be safe, too. But doubtless the Colvilles would disapprove.”

His frown had grown darker before she paused, and she suspected that by shifting so abruptly from her plan to his, she had unsettled him.

He did not speak for a long moment, and she kept silent.

At last, he said, “Why d’ye think the Colvilles would disapprove?”

With a little smile, she said, “Why, sir, surely you can see that men will need only to look on our Alice to fling themselves at her feet.”

“Aye, well, I’ll have none of that!”

“You certainly won’t if you keep her clapped up here,” Sibylla agreed. “Edward Colville must be pleased that you have, because he surely knows that better and wealthier men than he would leap at a chance to marry our Alice. He won her so easily, I suspect, only because no others had seen her.”

“Sakes, she has not been buried here. I took her to Ferniehurst at Yuletide.”

Sibylla nodded. “To be sure you did, sir. But one must suppose that nearly everyone at Ferniehurst was a kinsman of ours on one side or the other. And most of the younger men who were there are married, are they not?”

“Aye, they are that,” he said, looking thoughtful. Deciding she had made her point, Sibylla said, “You will take good care of Alice, I know. I just wanted to tell you that I shall accept Murray’s kind offer to escort me to Edinburgh. But if you
should
choose to visit me whilst Isabel is in residence there, I can easily provide chambers for you and Alice at the castle.”

Her sister could share her room, but she sent a prayer aloft that he would not demand to know if she thought the princess had taken to including gentlemen as her guests. She also prayed that Archie the Grim had not forgotten his promise to house any guest of hers in his gatehouse apartments. As generous as he could be, he might have made the same promise to others and might find himself short of space.

It was not in her nature to worry about things she could not control or influence, and she knew Archie well enough to be sure that if he were there he would find space for

Sir Malcolm. So she went in search of Rosalie and Lady Murray.

“I trust you find everything to your liking,” she said when they bade her enter their chamber.

“Indeed, Lady Sibylla, Akermoor seems most comfortable,” Lady Murray said.

“Thank you, but pray do call me Sibylla. Praise from one who knows a well-run household when she sees one will mean much to my father.”

“I have seen too little to judge how well it is run,” Lady Murray said more austerely. “And I should think your charming sister or Sir Malcolm’s housekeeper would deserve the credit for its management. In my experience, gentlemen know little of how to run a household smoothly.”

“I am sure you are right,” Sibylla said. Smiling at Rosalie, she said, “I would ask a kindness of you, my lady.”

“Anything you like,” Rosalie agreed.

“My sister is sadly envious of your journey to court, so I would beg you to be as tactful as you can if the subject arises. My father’s notions on such things are stern, I’m afraid. He believes she should marry before she attends the royal court.”

Noting Lady Murray’s knitted brow, Sibylla said they must let her know if they needed anything more for their comfort, then suggested they go down to supper.

Simon enjoyed his tour of Akermoor.

Although he had once believed that Sir Malcolm had misled him about his daughter’s willingness to marry, Simon’s anger had soon shifted to Sibylla. He now found that he liked her father. Moreover, Akermoor was thriving, so he seized the opportunity to ask questions about matters that had perplexed him at Elishaw.

Sir Malcolm answered them all with hearty good sense, and the two men had spent the entire afternoon together in perfect amity.

Entering the great hall at suppertime with his host, Simon saw Sibylla on the dais, talking with Lady Murray. A short distance away, near the large fireplace, Rosalie chatted animatedly with the lady Alice Cavers.

As they all took their places, servants scurried about with dishes of food and pitchers of what was likely ale for the lower hall and wine for the high table.

They paused where they were while Sir Malcolm said the grace before meat.

Evidently believing he had already talked with Simon as much as courtesy dictated, Sir Malcolm turned to Lady Murray as they sat down, and engaged her in conversation. Simon was amused to see her respond with smiles and arch comments.

Beyond her, Sibylla chatted with Alice and Rosalie. Simon’s ears were sharp enough to hear most of what the others were saying without troubling himself to take part in the conversation. Soon his thoughts drifted to Edinburgh and Fife’s summons. Those thoughts proving less than cheerful, he pushed them away only to have them drift back whenever he let down his guard.

Fixing his attention firmly on Sibylla’s low-pitched voice and the younger girls’ higher ones, punctuated now and again by her throaty chuckle and their giggles, he found the sounds oddly peaceful, even comforting.

From time to time, his host would address a comment to him, and he would reply. Each time Sir Malcolm quickly returned his attention to Lady Murray. Thus, he surprised Simon as they were finishing the meal when he said abruptly, “Sibylla, lass, Murray has asked several times today about our loch. I’ve been thinking ye could put your riding dress back on and take him to see it afore darkness falls.”

“I do not need to change my dress, sir,” Sibylla said. “At least an hour of daylight remains, and it is no more than a twenty-minute walk through the woods to the loch. His lordship is fit enough, I think, to manage that without undue exertion.”

Simon’s spirits lifted. “I’d like that,” he said, smiling.

The naturalness of Simon’s smile startled Sibylla. The only other time she could recall seeing his smile had been the small, rueful one he had offered her the previous night in Elishaw’s great hall when she had reminded him of his threat to have Sir Malcolm ask her how she had got out of the castle.

Even that smile had altered his features considerably. This one did much more. When he looked at her, still smiling, every nerve in her body reacted.

Sir Malcolm’s suggestion that they go to the loch had surprised her, but she knew his reason for the apparent impulse. He still hoped for a union between them.

Still, she was grateful to escape an otherwise tedious evening, doubtless a prime sample of how it would often be if she had to remain under her father’s roof.

Outside, the sun touched a nearby hill to the west, and she knew they would see the sunset when they reached the hilltop. The track up through the pines and beeches was wide enough to walk side by side. As they followed it, Simon glanced back twice.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I expected your father to have someone follow us,” he said. “He should not have sent you alone with me like this.”

“Should he—or I, for that matter—not trust you?” “That is not what I mean,” he said. “I’m thinking only of protecting your reputation, lass. People talk whenever they hear or see aught to stir talk.”

“His men can see us easily enough from the watchtowers,” she said. “I suspect, though, that he hopes we might still make a match of it.”

Smiling wryly, he said, “You are very blunt tonight.” She nearly told him that if she was blunt, he was unusually cheerful. Resisting the impulse, she said, “He
was
pleased to find me at Elishaw under your protection, for he said as much and hinted— Nay, that is too tame. He would have expressed his hope outright had I not interrupted him to tell him not to be thinking such a thing.”

Simon was looking at her feet, just as he had the night they had met at the pond. “Those shoes look too thin for this rough track,” he said. “I warrant their soles are slick, too, so take care how you step. How much farther before we see the loch?”

“Just over that low ridge ahead,” she said. “I told my father I mean to accept your offer to escort me to Edinburgh,” she added, watching for his reaction.

“My
offer
?”

“You did say you’d take me if he gave me leave.” “
Did
he?”

“He did not forbid it. Moreover, you may find your party further enlarged.”

She thought his lips twitched, but he said only, “How so?”

“I may have put the notion into his head to take Alice to court.”

He did not roll his eyes, but he did look heavenward. “You
may
have?”

“Aye, so I pray you will not discourage him if he mentions such intent. He wants my sister to marry Thomas Colville’s younger brother, Edward, but she does not like him. Thomas is now to marry a great heiress, but as Edward inherited their mother’s estates, Father believes he will make Alice a good husband.”

“I should think he would,” Simon said.

“Perhaps, but she can do better, and so I told him. Alice has scarcely met any eligible men. You have seen how beautiful she is, and I think the sweetness of her temperament would appeal to most gentlemen.”

“I’ll not argue that. But surely your father knows what is best for her.”

“I fear he still thinks only of what such a marriage may do for him,” Sibylla said. “The Colvilles are as firmly in Fife’s encampment as you are, sir.”

“Thomas Colville is doubtless much more so than I am by now,” he said. “But I am not aware that Edward serves Fife in any capacity.”

“Nor did
your
brother apparently serve him.”

When he flinched, remorse banished her irritation and she said ruefully, “I should not have spoken so bluntly, sir. But your brother did seek to please you with many of his actions, and it may well be the same betwixt the Colville brothers.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said quietly. “If reminders of Tom give me pain, I deserve it. I’d got him involved in

Fife’s attempts to keep an eye on Isabel, and it was I who sent him to Scott’s Hall that fateful day.”

“We both know you had naught to do with the attack that killed him, even so. He was but carrying word of your father’s death to your mother at the Hall.”

“Aye, well, the guilt lingers nonetheless. But you need not apologize for aught you say to me, lass. You just speak your thoughts. I like listening to you.”

The last statement warmed her. No one had said such a thing to her before.

He had diverted her, however, from her point about the Colvilles.

She said, “You don’t like me talking about Fife, sir. Yet he is the reason you offered for me, is he not,
and
the reason my father accepted your suit?”

“I cannot deny that I obeyed Fife’s wishes and hoped thereby to gratify him. But I can speak only for myself. I do not know what your father’s reason was.”

She made a rude sound.

He shook his head at her but said, “Sir Malcolm did talk to Fife. But at the time, you’ll recall, I had just come of age. I paid heed to nowt but pleasing my liege lord and my own keen interest in increasing our Murray holdings. But I have gained experience enough to know now that any truth has two sides to it.”