Days of Gold (4 page)

In the next moment, Angus stood up. He was just a few feet from her and he planned to use surprise to expose her illicit behavior.

His movements were quick. He rose, towering above her, and said, “You are found out!”

What he saw was her sitting on a patch of heather, a little white sketch pad in her hands, and she was drawing some quail—all of which flew away at the sight and sound of Angus.

“You!” she said, standing up to face him. “You great, ugly, woolly beast of a man, you’re spying on me! Shamus!” she shouted. “Help me!”

Angus didn’t think, he just turned and ran back to his pony. As he ran, his head filled with the sound of the laughter that was going to come. Never in his life would he live this down! He could live to be a hundred, no, a thousand years old, and this was what would be remembered about him. He’d be known as the man who was sneaking about in the bushes and spying on some English girl as she drew pictures of birds.

Angus jumped on the pony and headed back to the castle as fast as he could. Perhaps it would be better if he went away for a while, a year maybe. He had some money hidden in the stables. He’d get that and—

He was halfway back before he realized that she was on her horse and coming after him. Her big mare would beat his pony in a flat-out race, but he knew secret ways to get back to the keep before she did. As he snaked around on the paths that elk had made, now and then he could see her below him, and he couldn’t help but marvel at
how fast she was going. She wasn’t taking the flat trail back but was going down a road that had been made long ago, and he wondered how she’d found it. Had Tam shown her that way?

His eyes widened in admiration when she and her mare sailed over an old fence, then a minute later leaped across a ditch. Whatever else that was said about her, she could ride!

Angus was so enthralled in watching her that he almost forgot about his own necessity for speed. However, he directed the pony over a stream, across a few gulleys, and got to the castle well before she did. When he was back in a place he’d known all his life, he thought better of running away. He’d fought battles with cattle thieves and had spent his life hunting and living with danger. Why should a girl scare him so that he ran away from his own home?

When she got back, he’d tell her the truth, that Malcolm had asked him to look after her, and that he’d thought she was in trouble when her head disappeared in the bushes. How was he to know that she was sneaking about to draw a bunch of birds? No one had told him that’s what she did when she went out. Or had they? Now that he thought about it, he seemed to recall someone mentioning that. But how was he supposed to remember everything he’d been told about her?

She came into the courtyard just minutes after he did and when he saw the state of her mare, he decided to give her a good scolding for working it into such a lather.

When she stopped close to him, he held his ground. She threw her leg over the tall pommel and slid to the ground in front of him. “You’re disgusting,” she said. “You are—”

She broke off when she saw that Angus was smiling at her. This time he wasn’t going to let her beauty make him lose his sense of self. “You are a despicable man!” she shouted. When he kept smiling, she drew back her hard-soled riding boot and kicked his shin. Angus
bent with pain and she lifted her riding crop to strike his shoulder, but he moved so the little whip hit him across the neck. He grabbed his neck, and when his hand came away bloody, he lost all conscious thought. Behind her was a big stone horse trough. Without a thought, he picked her up and dropped her into it.

She went under, her little hat slid down over her face, and she came up sputtering.

Angus put his hands on his hips and looked about him. He knew that everyone was there, their eyes glued to what was going on, and he expected them to laugh at the ridiculous sight of her, but no one did. Instead, there wasn’t a sound, and no one would look at him. Angus turned his head one way then the other, but no one would meet his eyes, not even Malcolm, who had come out of the stables when he heard the silence.

“Oh, you poor dear,” Morag said as she went to the girl and helped her out of the dirty horse trough. “Come inside and we’ll get you changed and dry.”

Dripping, and already shivering, the girl walked past Angus without looking at him. With her silken clothes wet and her hair down about her shoulders, she looked like a young, frightened child, not the virago he’d come to think of her as.

She paused as she got a step past him. “I won’t keep this one to myself. My uncle will hear of this.”

Since it was so quiet in the courtyard, everyone heard her, and when Angus looked up this time all eyes were on him. What had he done? Depending on what mood Lawler was in, his punishment of Angus could be severe, anything from flogging to being banished, sent away forever.

Angus realized that his silly game of trying to beat the girl back to the keep, then throwing her into the trough, was going to change his life.

Malcolm came to stand beside him. “You should go, boy. Leave McTern land before she tells him.”

“No, I canna do that,” Angus said as he straightened his shoulders and walked toward the castle. He could hear the intake of breath all around him. He wasn’t going to run. He was going to take whatever punishment was given to him. If the girl who’d been treated so were his... What? Sister? If a man had done this to his close kin, he would probably murder him.

Angus mounted the old, wooden stairs to reach the second floor of the castle. In time of war, the wooden steps would be cut away, making it difficult for an enemy to enter. But there hadn’t been a full-scale war in the area for a while, so the steps had grown old and rickety.

The castle was really just a big square tower with a smaller square stuck onto the side to hold the spiral stone staircase. There were other staircases inside, but this was the one that went from bottom to top, and on the second floor it opened into the Great Hall, where Lawler spent most of his time with his cronies, men who came and went and did little but eat and drink whatever Lawler—and the Scots—could provide.

When Angus appeared in the Great Hall, the girl, with Morag by her side, was standing in front of her uncle. He was at a square table, two men with him, and they were playing cards. Lawler was an ugly man, with a big red nose, and broken veins all over his face. He had to have a new wardrobe every year because his belly expanded while his legs shrank. Now in his late fifties, his legs were as thin as saplings, while his belly was so big he looked ready to deliver a child.

“What is it?” Lawler asked after a glance up from his cards. Next to him sat William Ballister, an Englishman who was older and uglier than Lawler. They were the best of friends, meaning that Ballister stayed until Lawler got tired of him and told him to leave—which
happened about twice a year. On the other side was Phillip Alvoy, who was younger and better-looking, but everyone knew that he had a mean temper. No one ever crossed him or they’d have trouble with Lawler.

“He... he...” the girl began, but she was shaking so hard from the cold that she had trouble speaking.

“It is my fault,” Angus said, stepping forward so he was between her and her uncle. “I was spying on her and she had every right to do what she did. I alone am at fault.”

Lawler put his cards down, as did his two friends, and they looked with interest at Angus and the girl behind him. “Tell me what happened.”

“This great beast has been following me all week,” the girl said in anger. “Just days ago he loosened my saddle and made me fall onto the stones. I said nothing about it because I didn’t want to cause problems. But what he did today was intolerable. He followed me when I rode out, hid in the grass, and jumped out at me while I was sketching. If Shamus hadn’t been there to protect me, I don’t know what he would have done to me. Then he ran. Like the common sneak he is, he ran from me and I had to hurry back here. And when I got here, I justifiably applied my riding crop to him.”

“I see,” Neville Lawler said, looking at Angus. “Is that how your neck came to be bleeding?”

“Aye, it is,” Angus said stiffly.

“How did you get wet?” Alvoy asked the niece as he sipped a glass of port. The old stone keep might be falling down, but the liquor was always splendid.

“He...” She trailed off, shivering too hard to speak.

“I dropped her into a horse trough,” Angus said. He was standing with his shoulders back, his legs apart, his hands behind his back. He was ready to take any punishment that was meted out to him.

“You threw her into a horse trough?” Ballister asked, his voice showing his astonishment.

“Aye, I did,” Angus said, keeping his eyes level and on Lawler.

In the next second the three men looked at one another and burst into laughter. “Best place for her,” Lawler said, nearly choking on his laughter.

“Oh, but I wish I’d seen it,” Alvoy said. “Perhaps you could do it again so we could watch.”

“Like a play or a pantomime,” Ballister said. “A repeat performance.”

“What a good idea,” Lawler said.

“You’re going to do nothing to him?” his niece asked.

“Why should I punish him for doing what should have been done a long time ago?” her uncle asked. “I wish I’d thought of it.”

With that, the girl turned and ran from the room, waving Morag away when she tried to follow.

After giving Angus a look that told him he should be ashamed of himself, Morag turned and stamped out of the room. Behind him, the three men were laughing and toasting one another, and congratulating Angus on what he’d done.

Angus could stand no more and left the room, but he paused on the stairs. When she’d fled the room he’d seen tears in her eyes. He’d never before made a woman cry.

When he heard a noise, he glanced up the stairs and thought he saw the edge of her skirt. He knew the keep well enough that he was sure her room was on the fourth floor, but he’d seen her above that. Where was she going? The second he thought the question, he knew the answer. She was going to the roof. But why? She was already so cold she was shivering. A frightening thought came to him, that she was going to the roof to throw herself off. In the next moment he was taking the stairs two at a time.

When he got to the roof, there she was, standing near the edge, a low stone wall the only thing between her and the courtyard a long way below.

When she heard the door, she turned, saw him, and her shoulders slumped. “Did you come up here to gloat, to glory in what you’ve achieved?”

“No,” he said. “I came here to see if you were all right.”

“And what do you care? You’ve been as intolerable to me as my uncle. All the Scots have been so kind, except for you. You—” She waved her hand, as though she couldn’t think of anything bad enough to say to him.

“I think you should go downstairs and get on some dry clothes.” Slowly, he was moving toward her. If she made a sudden move to jump, he was going to be close enough to catch her.

She didn’t move, didn’t look at him. “You were probably right to throw me into a horse trough. I wish you’d thrown me off the top of this falling down pile of rocks. In fact, I should do it myself.”

“What could make you want to do something like that?” Angus asked, truly aghast at what she was saying. “You’ll not get into Heaven if you take your own life.”

“Wherever I go, it won’t be worse than here.”

“What could be so bad, lass?” His voice was soft; he didn’t want to scare her.

“You know Uncle Neville’s friends, those two downstairs, Alvoy and Ballister?”

“Aye, I do.”

“Tell me what you think of them.”

He was standing just a few feet from her now so he felt he could relax. He could catch her if she tried to jump. As for her question, he wasn’t about to answer it honestly. Maybe Shamus was right and Lawler didn’t like his niece, but Angus knew he didn’t feel that way
about his two despicable friends and she might repeat what Angus said.

“Come on,” she said. “You can tell me. After what we’ve been through today, you can be honest with me. Would you like either of those men as your friend? Would you trust either of them?”

“No,” he said cautiously, “I can’t say that I would, but I’m a Scot. I don’t trust any Englishman.” He’d hoped to distract her from this line of questioning, but she wasn’t deterred.

“Do you think they’re smart?”

“That depends on what you call smart. They’re both cunning, that’s for sure. They tell your uncle what he wants to hear so they get free room and board—and no work.”

She nodded, as though she agreed with that. “What about kindness? Pleasant company?”

“I can’t say that they are to me, but your uncle likes them well enough.” He didn’t know if it was the anger that seemed to be surging through her, but she was no longer shivering, even though her clothes were still sopping wet. “It’s not for me to give advice, but if I were in your place I’d steer clear of both of those men. I don’t think they’re who a young girl should spend her time with.”

“Now that will be a problem because my uncle says I’m to marry one of them.”

Angus looked at her in shock, unable to say anything. Her beauty matched with either of those dreadful men who sponged off of her uncle was not something he wanted to contemplate.

She didn’t turn to look at him, just kept staring at the courtyard below. “In four days I’ll turn eighteen and my uncle’s guardianship will end. He plans for me to marry one of those men at one minute after midnight, then my dowry will belong to my husband, who has made an agreement to give it back to my uncle.”

Angus grimaced. It was a very bad situation, but there was nothing he could do about it. “Ah, lass, that is a hard one.”

She turned to look up at him, her blue eyes pleading. “Help me escape. Please.”

“I can’t do that,” Angus said as he took a step back from her. “This is my home. These are my people.”

“I know that. It’s why I’ve asked
you
for help. People have told me they depend on you. You’re the McTern of McTern, aren’t you?”

The way she said it made him want to defend himself. “My grandfather was the laird of this clan and some people still remember that. The title of laird may no longer have land, but I carry a responsibility to the McTerns.”