Amanda Scott - [Border Trilogy 2] (40 page)

They ignored him. Buccleuch and Westruther took seats on either side of him, while Douglas and Simon drew stools to the lower-hall side of the high table and sat to face him. Percy, following Simon, drew one up next to his.

When one of Fife’s captains stepped onto the dais, Archie said in what was more akin to a beastly growl than anything human, “Send him away, my lord.”

Fife did so with a gesture, but he had collected himself enough to say coldly, “What is the meaning of this? How dare you—!”

Simon interjected gently, “How dare I enter
my
hall to sup with
my
guest? Although I did not invite you, my lord, you are ever welcome at Elishaw. However, I fail to understand why you did not send to let me know so I might have prepared more properly for you. My lady wife will be distressed to have missed you.”

“Do not forget who I am,” Fife said to him. “Or that I control—”

“That’s enough of that,” Douglas said, unimpressed with Fife’s bluster. “Here are the plain facts, sir. You will be pleased to know that we have caught the men responsible for raids on both sides of the line and will hang them as the traitors they are for stirring strife that might have led to war with England. There is nowt in that business that need concern you. However, as two of them are the Colvilles who have pretended to seek the lady Catherine Gordon in these parts—”

“Pretended?”

“I say what I mean and dislike interruption,” the Douglas said. “But aye, pretended. To that end, they threw a local lad into the river Tweed a fortnight ago. When that did not kill him, they came here and threw him down the stairs.”

“What the devil was such a lad doing here?” Fife demanded.

“My men rescued him from the river and brought him here, sir,” Simon said. “He was exhausted, and remained sickly and weak. The Colvilles gained entrance here last night through a ruse. Believing the lad knew the lady Catherine’s whereabouts, they threatened him. When he could not help them, they killed him.”

“Surely, you cannot think I had aught to do with such a travesty.”

“Such a thought never occurred to us,” Simon said, looking into his eyes, daring him to challenge the lie. “We know how strong your principles are. We know, too, just how much value you place on human life . . . and on a person’s legal property rights.”

Douglas waited a beat before saying gruffly, “The important thing is we’ve put an end to this raiding and can now set up a way to deal with such mischief in future. I’ve made a list of my own notions, and the five of us mean to discuss them, sir. Percy here has agreed to present the result to Northumberland for his support.”

“What sort of notions?” Fife demanded.

“Bless us, sir, there be nae need to trouble you with the details,” Douglas said. “We ken fine how busy you are, but I’ll meet with you anon to discuss it when we have put more form to our thoughts. In troth, if you’d like to adjourn with me to Hermitage tonight, we can talk there.”

Fife’s eyes narrowed as he shot a glance at Cecil Percy. “I expect the five of you did not ride over this evening from Hermitage, however,” he said.

“Faith, my lord, I am a poor host,” Simon said, shaking his head. “I have neglected to present my cousin Cecil Percy of Dour Hill, England, to you. He is cousin to Northumberland and to my lady mother. We have spent much of the day with him, as he did aid us in capturing the ill-willed Colvilles. His men and the Douglas’s are camped in my woods now, awaiting instructions. When we learned that you were here, we came at once to tell you that we had caught the raiders.”

A sardonic gleam appeared in the Governor’s eyes. “It does not please me to find you in company with a Percy, Simon—let alone to have brought one, as you say, to sup with me. You must strive to do better by the ruler of your realm.”

“I will, aye, sir,” Simon said, choosing his next words with care. “Given due warning in future, I promise you Elishaw’s hospitality will be all that you expect.”

Fife’s glance flicked to Percy again and back to Simon. “Tell me, will the Percys find as warm a welcome here as I shall?”

“That must depend, sir, on the state of the truce between us. That truce is of paramount import, as you will agree. We must do all we can, together, to preserve it.”

“Answer me plainly, sir,” Fife said. “If hostilities arise again, will those at Elishaw continue to play Jack-of-Both-Sides, or nay?”

“We have likewise discussed that, my lord, all of us here. Elishaw is at heart a Scottish holding, and in such a case will stand with Douglas for Scotland.”

“With Douglas,” Fife repeated.

“Aye, and with the realm.”

“I see.”

“The truce is all-important, sir,” Simon repeated.

Fife looked at Buccleuch. “You are quiet for once.” “I’ve nowt to add,” Buccleuch said.

“So you agree with Murray?”

“He is my good-brother, my lord. I’m sworn to support him.”

“He is my good-brother as well, sir,” Westruther reminded Fife.

Having given little thought to his own friends or foes while serving Fife, Simon felt an unexpected rush of gratitude for the men who stood with him now.

Fife nodded. “Very well. I shall rely on you all to see that the Borders remain at peace. I do have one other question to ask you, Murray.”

“Aye, sir?”

“I ordered you to Huntly to seek news of my royal ward, Catherine Gordon, then most generously granted you four days’ leave to enjoy your bride. Shortly thereafter, though, I learned that you had left Edinburgh and that the lady Catherine was here at Elishaw. To be exact, that you keep her here as your hostage.”

“I suspect one of the Colvilles told you that, my lord,” Simon said. “The lady Catherine is not here, nor has she been here.”

“I’m told you rescued
two
children from the river. Will you swear to me, on your word of honor, that you did not bring a female child here a fortnight ago?”

Simon said, “The second bairn is a lass, sir. But she is of common birth and speech, and cannot be the one you seek.”

“I would know that for myself,” Fife said. “Fetch her to me.”

A flash of russet cloth in the service archway caught Simon’s eye, but as the arch was behind Fife, he knew the Governor had not seen it. He also knew who was there and hoped Sibylla had put Kit somewhere safe. The last thing he wanted to subject the already terrified child to was an inquisition by Fife.

Douglas said to Fife, “Do you know the lady Catherine personally, sir?”

“I am her guardian. Of course, I do.”

“I have heard that her hair and eyes are an unusual color, and I have seen the lass Murray rescued. Ask him what color they are, for hers are unusual, too.”

Fife looked grimly at Simon.

“Her eyes are pale blue, sir,” Simon said, reluctantly trusting Douglas to know what he was doing. “They are so light as to appear almost colorless at times.”

“So you see,” Douglas said. “She cannot be Lady Catherine.
Her
eyes and hair were described to me as symbolic of her fortune, both being golden.”

“This bairn has flaxen hair,” Simon said. “She must be asleep by now, too. She has been terrified, sir, has lost her brother, and so far has been unable to help us find her family. I warrant she has suffered enough without haling her from her bed.”

“As to sending Murray off to Huntly for any reason,” Douglas said without giving Fife time to reply, “it is a poor time to be sending the master of any Border stronghold so far to the north, sir. I need him here to discuss our plan for redressing grievances across the line and to deter further raids in the meantime.”

Simon said, “I would also submit, my lord, that as you’ve suspected me in Lady Catherine’s disappearance, you will prefer to send someone else to Huntly. In any event, with respect, my duty now lies here at Elishaw with my wife and family.”

Fife nodded and got to his feet. “The question of anyone going to Huntly becomes moot if Colville is not to marry Catherine. She will turn up somewhere, and I’ll deal with her and those concealing her when she does. Douglas, I have supped and you have not, so I suggest you stay to see to your hunger. But I would ask you to return to Edinburgh in a month’s time to discuss this plan of yours.”

“Thank you,” Douglas said. “As you ken fine, Murray here is but two days married and doubtless finds us all in his way. I do mean to take my supper with him, which will give you time to get on your way. Then I’ll be leaving, too.”

Chapter 22

O
n the service stair landing, Sibylla heard sounds of Fife’s departure and waited to hear what the other men would say when he had gone. Beside her, Kit waited silently, her small hand clutching Sibylla’s.

Having been unable to bear being blind and deaf to what was going on above, and hearing no one in the bake-house chamber, Sibylla had slipped out of the tunnel, and with the child as her shadow, had crept up to the landing.

She knew it was likely that someone in the kitchen had seen them. But no one had called out to her and she had not looked to see if anyone was watching, suspecting that anyone who did see them would think she had simply used her rumored witch’s powers again to appear from the supposedly empty chamber.

Again, the rumors could prove useful.

When Fife ordered Simon to fetch Kit, the child had spun round to dash back down the stairs, and Sibylla nearly missed catching her. Having hoped that in moving so quickly she had not revealed their presence, it was annoying to hear Simon raise his voice to say, “He has gone, my lady. You may come in now.”

Kit grabbed Sibylla’s skirt with both hands. Dampening suddenly dry lips, Sibylla bent close to her and said quietly, “We will go in together, love. Nay, do not speak. Just listen to me. The Douglas is here. He is the most powerful man in Scotland, and he will keep you safe. He is kin to me, and I promise he will let no one hurt you. I think I was wrong and you are not the lady Catherine, but I think you do know where she is and the time has come for you to tell us. The Douglas will keep her safe, too.”

But when she straightened, Kit clung to her skirt, trying to hold her back.

“Sibylla?” The warning note in Simon’s voice said his patience was waning.

She said, “Kit, have I ever lied to you?”

Looking at the floor, the child shook her head.

“Then, come.” Sibylla held out her hand.

Kit looked into her eyes then, and she gazed steadily back.

At last, Kit took her hand and they stepped through the archway together. A gillie passed them and hurried down the steps toward the kitchen, doubtless to tell them to begin serving supper to the lairds on the dais. The lower hall was nearly silent. Few lingered there other than those clearing up or coming late to supper.

The men at the high table stood, Garth and Buccleuch on the nearer side and Simon, Percy, and Douglas with their backs to the lower hall.

Simon moved around the table toward Sibylla and Kit. “This is Kit, my lords,” Sibylla said, fixing her gaze on Douglas and thus avoiding Simon’s eye and the others’ as well. “She will talk with us, but I did promise her, my lord Douglas, that you will keep her safe.”

“I will, aye,” Archie said, his harsh face softening. “Come to the table, lassie. You are not the lady Catherine, but I’m thinking you must look summat like her.”

Holding tight to Sibylla’s hand, Kit went nearer, regarding Douglas solemnly as she said, “Why do you think I look like her, my lord?”

“Because you are also gey fair, and the men who interfered with you the day you went into the river thought you
were
Catherine, did they not?”

Squeezing Sibylla’s hand harder, she nodded. “They were bad men.”

“They were, aye. Why did they accost you?”

“Accost?”

“Why did they stop you?” Sibylla said gently.

“We had stopped already,” Kit said. “The river stopped me, and then Dand found me, and he were sore vexed and shouting, so the bad men found us both.”

“Dand was not your brother then.”

“Nay, there’s just me and me mam and . . .” She looked up at Sibylla.

“And Catherine?” Sibylla said.

“Aye, we’ve always been together till now. But Mam and Cat went across the river. Mam said the people seeking us looked for a woman wi’ two wee lassies, so I must stay with Dand and his kin. But I didna like it there, so I cut off my hair, put on some old breeks o’ Dand’s, and went to find me mam and Cat.”

“So that’s why you were dressed as a lad,” Sibylla said.

“Aye, but Dand found me by the river, and the bad men heard me shrieking and kent I was a lassie. They said they’d been seeking me and called me Catherine. I said my name
wasn’t
Catherine, and Dand said I was his sister. But one o’ the men knew Dand’s people and said he didna
have
a sister, that he’d never seen me before. They said either I was Catherine and me mam was near or I was the other one left behind, ’cause being Catherine’s nurse, Mam wouldna leave her for nowt.”

Sibylla looked at Douglas, raising an eyebrow. When he nodded, she said, “Did they discover which it was, Kit?”

“The one as threw Dand said she wouldna let Cat roam about as I had either.”

“Why did he throw Dand in the water?”

Tears welled in her eyes. “He believed me when I said I didna ken where they’d gone,” she said. “But he said Dand must know ’cause he was older, or his people did. So I screamed at them that Dand didna ken nowt, that me mam hadna told
any
one where she went, so no bad people could find her. But they thought he
must
know, so the man wha’ did all the talking said he’d throw him in the river if he’d no tell them. But he knew nowt, so he could say nowt, and so they did.”

“Dand told me you ran and jumped into the water on your own,” Simon said. “Did you think you could help him?”

She looked down. “Nay, I just ran so they’d no catch me . . . and ’cause I wanted gey fierce to get across the river to Mam and Cat. But the water took me, and then the lady caught me and you brought us here, laird. Then the men came and . . .”

The tears spilled silently down her cheeks, but she said no more.