Amanda Scott - [Border Trilogy 2] (24 page)

Sibylla said with determined calm, “Evidently, Edward Colville, you failed to learn anything from the lesson you received this morning.”

He whirled, releasing Rosalie, who stepped quickly away from him. “You!” he exclaimed, scowling at Sibylla. “What business is this of yours?”

“As you saw this morning, I take responsibility for her ladyship,” Sibylla said. “You would be wise to let her be.”

“Who the devil are you?”

“I am Alice Cavers’s sister.”

“Sakes, you’re the capernoited skit that left Thomas standing like a fool with nobbut the parson and your da when he’d expected to wed you!”

“Mercy, Sibylla,” Rosalie exclaimed. “Was he one—?” Ignoring Edward, Sibylla said hastily, “Come, dearling. We’ll find Alice together and go back to the hall. Your mother has doubtless missed you by now.”

“We shall
all
go to find your dearling Alice,” Edward said.

“No, we will not,” Sibylla said. “Come, Rosalie.”

“Nay, lassie, you’ll bide with me a while longer,” he said, catching Rosalie’s arm again. “I’ve a mind to know—”

Rosalie had stiffened angrily when he grabbed her but relaxed as her gaze shifted to a point beyond Sibylla. Seeing her expression change to one of mixed relief and wariness told Sibylla who stood there.

Simon said with measured calm so chilling that it sent prickles of ice up her spine, “Take your hands off my sister, Colville.”

Disturbingly aware that she stood between them, Sibylla moved aside. As she faced Simon, the chill pricked her again, stirring a cowardly wish that she had kept her back to him.

His fury was obvious and directed at all three of them. Doubtless he would save a healthy portion for the missing Alice, as well.

“See here, Murray,” Edward said. “I just saw the lass to whom I’m plighted wandering off with some cat-wit. I suspect this lassie kens fine where they went.”

Simon said coldly, “If you disapprove of the lady Alice’s behavior, speak to her father. But you’d be wise to look to your own behavior before complaining of hers. I’ve not yet told Sir Malcolm what I witnessed this morning. However, if you do not release my sister’s arm at once, I
will
speak to him. I’ll deal with you, too, in a way that you won’t like,” he added. “Do you take my meaning?”

“I’d be none so quick to bear tales to Sir Malcolm,” Colville said, releasing Rosalie. “I’ll own I’d liefer he not hear about that, but I’m thinking his lass here will dislike it more. I doubt her actions would please him any better than mine.”

“Mayhap you are right,” Simon said. “But the lady Sibylla
is
his daughter. Displeased with her or not, he will ask why she hit you, and he will believe her, too.”

“Mayhap he will; mayhap not.”

“I’ll see that he does,” Simon promised. “So, if you seek to retain your good standing with him, stay away from his daughters unless he is with them. You’d be wise to keep out of
my
path, in any event, for some time to come.”

“What I’m thinking is that you’re mighty thick with a woman who treated you as badly as she treated my brother.”

“Your thoughts are a matter of indifference to me,” Simon said. “Your actions, however, are another matter. Come, Rosalie . . . and you, too, my lady.” Quietly, he added to Sibylla, “I am indebted to you for interceding here.”

Rosalie stared at him as he stepped aside to let them pass into the corridor. Then she looked in wonder at Sibylla.

Aware of what she had just deduced and praying she would hold her tongue, Sibylla murmured, “We must find Alice, sir.”

“To your left,” he replied. “I saw her peep out of the next chamber. I believe that room adjoins no other, so she cannot have left it whilst I stood here.”

Sibylla hurried to the indicated door and pushed it open without ceremony to find her sister and the unknown lad alone in the room.

Stepping hastily away from him, Alice looked guiltily at her.

“What are you doing here, Alice?” Sibylla demanded. “Surely, you know—”

“Not now, my lady,” Simon said, touching her arm. “Come away with us at once, Lady Alice. You, too, lad. You have some hard words coming your way, but I’ll not leave you here alone to face Edward Colville.”

“Thank you, my lord,” the young man said fervently, bobbing a hasty bow.

“Do you know me, then?”

“Aye, sir, I do. We’ve not met, but I have seen you before. I’m George Denholm of Teviotdale. The lady Alice and I . . . well, we’re by way of being good friends, sir. So, when she said she had to speak to me—”

“You have both behaved badly, but we’ll talk of it anon,” Simon said curtly. “At present, we must return to the hall, where you, Denholm, will return her ladyship to her father and beg his pardon.”

George Denholm turned pale enough to make Sibylla pity him, but by the look of Simon, all of them would hear what he thought before the night was over.

She saw no sign of the younger Colville when they passed the room where they had found him with Rosalie. But Simon allowed no one to dawdle.

When they entered the hall again, Sibylla’s gaze collided with her father’s. Distance lay between them still, but when he saw her, his gaze shifted to Alice. He turned briefly away, whereupon Lady Murray came into view, looking sorely vexed.

“May God have mercy on us,” Rosalie murmured. “You don’t deserve mercy, lassie,” Simon said to her. “What demon possessed you to leave the great hall by yourself?”

“I didn’t leave by myself,” Rosalie protested. “I followed—”

Sibylla cleared her throat.

Glancing at her, Rosalie said, “I was alone but not completely, I vow. I was holding Alice’s hand one minute and the next she was walking away with Geordie.”

Simon said, “Geordie?”

“George Denholm, of course. Alice calls him Geordie, so I— I expect I should not do so,” she amended hastily, eyeing Simon.

“No, you should not. Nor should you have left here without telling someone where you were going. In troth, you should not leave this hall by yourself for any reason or wander alone anywhere in this castle. All manner of people come here, and some are gey untrustworthy. You have your good name and reputation to protect, Rosalie. I do not want to have to explain this to you again.”

“I’ll remember, sir,” Rosalie said.

“See that you do. We will talk more of this anon.”

She bit her lower lip, but Sir Malcolm and Lady Murray were upon them, and Sir Malcolm was already scolding.

“Sibylla, where the devil did ye go, and why did ye take your sister and the lady Rosalie with ye? Sakes, but I turn my back for a moment . . .”

He continued in this vein, and Sibylla waited for him to pause before she said quietly, “I beg your pardon, sir.”

Before she could continue, Alice said, “It was not her fault, sir. It was mine.”

“Faugh!” he snapped. “Sibylla is the elder. It is her duty— What the devil are
you
doing here, sirrah?” he demanded, taking note at last of the still-pale George Denholm. “You have nae business to be anywhere
near
my daughter.”

“I am sorry to have vexed you, my lord,” Denholm said. “By my troth, I never meant to do so, but when the lady Alice—”

“Father, truly, it was
my
fault,” Alice said fiercely enough to draw notice.

Sir Malcolm gaped at her.

Smoothly, Simon said, “Mayhap it would be better, sir, if we were to adjourn to a more private chamber to continue this discussion.” He turned to Sibylla. “The princess’s solar would be the wisest place if you will agree to that.”

She nodded and led the way with him. Hearing her father curtly dismiss George Denholm, she prayed that the young man would not meet either of the Colville brothers until Edward’s temper had cooled.

She had seen no sign of the lackwit about Denholm, however, nor any lack of courage. He seemed pleasant and well-mannered. Looking over her shoulder, she saw tears in her sister’s eyes. One spilled over and left a damp trail down her cheek.

Sibylla looked up at Simon. The dimple near his mouth showed, and a muscle twitched in his cheek, warning signs that he had his temper under tight rein.

“In troth, sir,” she murmured as they turned a corner, briefly leaving the others behind, “little of it was Rosalie’s fault.”

“And none of it was yours,” he replied curtly, surprising her.

“I should have watched them more closely,” she admitted. “I thought our parents were with them when we saw the Douglas, and then—”

“Wait until we are more privy, lass. These stairwells echo all we say.”

She bit her lip, then recalled Rosalie doing the same thing and hid a smile.

Simon had that effect on one, especially if one was in the wrong.

Simon struggled to control his anger. Of late, he had begun to feel as if his emotions were as wobbly as the juggler’s stilts had been. Rage had nearly overcome him when he’d seen the Colville pup’s filthy paws on Rosalie. But that was normal.

That he might have spitted the pup had he had his sword was less so. How Sir Malcolm could be thinking of sacrificing a tender morsel like Alice to such a scruff he could not imagine. But if either Colville touched Rosalie again, or Sibylla . . .

Taking a deep breath, aware of Sibylla’s darting glances, he forced his thoughts back to Sir Malcolm . . . and to Lady Murray.

Had he not assured Sibylla that he could trust his lady mother to keep a close eye on Rosalie? Had Sibylla and Sir Malcolm not expected her to guard Alice, too? Instead, behaving as senselessly as bairns themselves, his mother
and
Sir Malcolm had joined the dancers. They had shown no concern at all for their daughters.

By making himself breathe deeply and evenly until they reached Isabel’s chambers, he was able to open the door for Sibylla and stand calmly aside to let her and the other three ladies enter the solar.

When Sir Malcolm moved to follow, Simon stopped him. “A moment, sir,” he said. “There is something you should know before the discussion continues.”

“Eh? What’s that, lad? I don’t mind telling ye I’m sore vexed already.”

Pulling the door to again, Simon said, “I am indebted to Sibylla for following Rosalie and Alice, sir. She might as easily have looked for you or me to go instead. Had she done that, Rosalie would have found herself in sad straits.”

“Foolish lassie. What had she done? And where the devil was Alice?”

“You will have to ask Alice where she was, sir, but

Edward Colville waylaid Rosalie. When she went after Alice, he cornered her in a private chamber. Had Sibylla not followed and diverted him long enough for me to find them . . .”

“Edward
Colville
? Bless me, what was he doing with
Rosalie
?”

“Ask him. I’ve said enough,” Simon said, not trusting himself to say more. “I’ll not tell any man how to manage his daughter or aught else, but I
don’t
want Colville near Rosalie. I have warned him off. If that vexes you, so be it.”

Sir Malcolm grimaced. “He should not have concerned himself in any way with that lassie. I’ll talk to him, never fear.”

Simon nodded and reached for the door latch again, pausing with his hand on it. “With your permission, sir, I mean to talk with the lady Sibylla about this, too,” he said. “I must also assume some fault, because I let the Douglas draw me away without making sure Rosalie was safe. In fact,” he added, remembering, “he and I walked off and left Sibylla without noting whether you or my mother were nearby.”

“Aye, well, our Sibylla can look after herself. She’s accustomed to it, what with serving Isabel as she has these past years. Ye’re welcome to speak with her, though, lad. I ken fine that ye’ll do her nae harm. But what was that feckless Denholm doing with our Alice? That’s what I want to know.”

“Ask them.” Simon opened the door and gestured for him to enter first.

Sibylla told the chambermaid to stir up the fire and then to take herself off to bed. “We will sit up and talk, but we shan’t need you any more tonight,” she said.

Having seen Simon stop her father at the threshold and shut the door, she was sure he was explaining what had happened and hoped he could dampen Sir Malcolm’s ire. Then perhaps he would not erupt over everyone as he so often did.

Alice and Rosalie had retreated to a settle near the fire and sat silently there.

Lady Murray watched the chambermaid busy herself at the fire but was clearly gathering her own resources for an unpleasant discussion.

Sibylla held her peace and went to sit on the cushioned bench in the window embrasure. It was chilly there, but she could sit undisturbed until the men came in.

When the door opened at last and her father entered, she noted his heavy frown with a resigned sigh. Then his gaze shifted to Lady Murray, and Sibylla saw him grimace. To her surprise, her ladyship, meeting his gaze, looked rueful.

“Lady Sibylla, I would speak with you now if you please.”

Looking sharply at the expressionless Simon, Sibylla felt sudden tension.

Lady Murray bristled. “What is this, Simon? Where would you take her?”

“I have Sir Malcolm’s permission, madam,” Simon said, the chill back in his voice. “If you have a cloak, my lady, you should fetch it.”

She did not question him but went to get the cloak Lady Murray had given her.

Rosalie caught her eye when she returned and gave her a sympathetic smile. But Sibylla barely acknowledged it, glancing instead at her father to judge whether he might change his mind.

He was gazing gravely at Alice.

Simon held the door for Sibylla, and when she heard him shut it behind her, she breathed a sigh of relief, not realizing until then how much she had dreaded the confrontation with her father. Being long unaccustomed to dealing with his rants, she had
not
wanted to deal with this one.

“This way,” Simon said, lightly touching the small of her back.

“Where are we going?” she asked, wondering if she had escaped one scolding only to fall headlong into a worse one.

“Have you seen the view from the ramparts here?” “Not for a long time and never at night,” she said as they reached the stairs.

“If the moon is up and no mist obscures it, we’ll be able to see it reflected on the sea. In any event, we’ll see the lights of the town and the abbey.”