Dreamer (Highland Treasure Trilogy) (32 page)

“He took you prisoner?”

“Aye,” Susan whispered. “He carried
me to a grove of trees not far from the village down the hill from the castle.
We just...we talked for a long while. Something happened to us that day,
Catherine. When we parted, we both knew it would not be for long.”

“But you were coming here to become
Athol’s wife, were you not?”

“Aye, to Lady Anne’s thinking--and wishing.” Susan smiled as she looked up. “Though after meeting Adam of the
Glen, I knew I could never have gone through with it. So after arriving here, I
became as sour and severe a young hag as anyone could imagine. There was no way
that John Stewart could ever take a liking to someone like me.”

“And here, a few short months
later, he did exactly that,” Catherine laughed. “He married a sour and severe
old
hag!”

“Perhaps.” Susan’s eyes shone with
mischief as they turned on Catherine. “Though seeing what went on that night in
the corridor outside of your chamber, I’d say he soon developed a very
different way of seeing women like us.”

Catherine blushed at the
recollection of Susan witnessing their lovemaking. Unconsciously laying a hand
over the treasure she was carrying within her, she met Susan’s eyes again.
“Enough of that, you imp. Tell me how you found a way to go and see Adam
again?”

“Roy Sykes came to the castle soon
after I arrived. He was our messenger for a while. I know you must think me a
traitor, knowing the whereabouts of Adam of the Glen and still keeping quiet to
Athol--”

“I have no ill will toward anything
you’ve done. Now, if you had brought him inside the walls of this keep, and
delivered up these folk to him...”

“Adam would never hurt an innocent.
From the first time I learned of the secret passages--through Auld Mab--and
found a way to steal out of the castle and return unheeded, he never asked that
I betray Athol or Lady Anne. I know he has been raiding and acting the part of
an outlaw, but in truth I know he is an honorable man. In all his raids, he has
never yet shed any blood without cause. He wants his brother to feel his
vengeance, but in the same way that he let you go last night, he will not bring
his wrath down on an innocent.  Athol, he believes, is the one who needs to be
punished. He alone.”

 Catherine again had to fight back
the worry from choking her. “And this is why we must set him right. We must find
a way for them both to see the truth.”

“Aye.” Susan nodded. “There is no
other choice.”

Catherine rose to her feet and
began to pace the room again. Between the two of them, she was certain they had
explained most of Adam’s and John’s past. But there were still some things that
made no sense.

“Susan, why do you think the old
earl took Adam to Huntly instead of just leaving him with the child’s mother?
You mentioned he was educated and treated well before being sent to England. And how can you explain the fact that no one knows of any mistress that the old
earl kept? Everyone says that the dowager and her husband had a close
marriage...that he had no other women.”

“Adam has tried to find out who his
mother is...or was. He has searched this entire area, but has found nothing.”

“And John has done the same, and he
too has found nothing. He told me that much himself.”

Susan paused, her eyes focusing on
Catherine’s face. “I tried to tell Adam that perhaps she was dead. That many
women die in childbirth. But he said that she is alive.”

“How does he know that?”

“He does not know for certain, but
when he was freed from the Tower, there was a special envoy sent to ransom him.
‘Twas not an envoy from the Scottish king, that much they told him. But something they said, some vague reference, made Adam believe the envoy came on behalf of his
mother.”

Catherine considered that for a
moment and then shook her head. “To send an envoy to ransom a political
prisoner would have taken a great deal of gold. What woman would have command
of such wealth?”

Susan nodded. “Not some peasant
woman, that is for certain.”

“If ‘twas not the king, and not
Athol or Lady Anne...”

“I believe that Adam has decided
that if ‘twas not his mother who ransomed him, then the gold must have come
from the one person who knows his past, the only one with enough wealth to pay
the kind of ransom the English king would demand.”

“Huntly.”

“Aye. Adam believes that his mother
may have begged Huntly on his behalf. That is why he has gone to wait for the
earl of Huntly now.”

A damp wet breeze swept into the
chamber. Catherine hugged her middle and looked in the direction of the window.
The blue sky had disappeared, replaced by a low, fast moving mass of
wind-driven gray. As she watched, a gust of rain drenched in an instant the
narrow stone sill. The rain began to fall in sheets, then.

She could not allow herself to
think of what might happen at Huntly now. She had to focus on what else they
could learn right here at Balvenie Castle.

She had to prepare. She had to be
ready.

John Stewart, earl of Athol, stood
before the fire in the Great Hall of Huntly Castle, steam from his clothes
rising like a mist about him.

“‘Twas his wish, John,” the earl of
Huntly told him. “‘Twas your father’s wish that you never be told.”

“But why?” Athol asked, glaring at
the wizened man sitting in his carved chair. Huntly was a legend in Scotland. Warrior, statesman, counselor to kings, and loyal friend to John Stewart and his
father before him. “Why should my father bring a bastard child to my
mother--and yet choose to keep it from me? Why, m’lord?”

“As close as we were, your father
always kept his own counsel on some things. But I believe I can answer that.”
Huntly’s sharp gray eyes softened slightly, and his gaze fixed on the fire
behind Athol. “I know you remember your father as a strong man--as one who
would never bend to anyone or anything in his life.”

“Aye.” Athol folded his arms across
his chest. “That’s how I remember him.” 

“I remember him as an honorable
man,” Huntly continued. “And one who loved your mother very much. Not always
the case, you know, among those in our position.”

“So I understand, m’lord,” the tall
Highlander responded grimly. “But he made a mistake.”

“Aye. Not a terrible mistake, by
many men’s standards, but a mistake that he felt besmirched his honor...and
brought unhappiness to your mother.  But as an honorable man, he would not turn
his back on his responsibility. So when your mother refused to accept the bairn
as her own, he brought the lad to me.”

“He trusted you.”

“Aye. He wanted Adam raised with
all the privileges of an earl’s son. At that time you were too young to
understand such things, so you were told nothing. But later...well, later I
believe he thought it would serve no purpose in you knowing.”

“Why?” Athol asked, impatience in his tone.

Huntly did not look into John’s
face as he told him of the terms of the Treaty of Bruges...and of a father’s
choice. Athol listened with growing dismay to the aging earl.

He’d never known.

“...‘Twas a matter of hiding you or
having you both flee Scotland, but his honor and his loyalty would not allow
such an arrangement. He was forced to abide by the terms of the treaty. He had
to choose.”

Athol crossed to the table and took
a seat beside the earl of Huntly. That had taken place more than twelve years
ago. To this day, he still remembered the long spells of melancholy that
afflicted his father at the end of his life.

“The choice killed him.”

Huntly paused before answering.
“Aye. Your father died within a year after that. You recall that he sent for me
before he died.”

John nodded at the memory.

“He wanted to make certain that you
would hear nothing of the truth.  He did not believe that Adam would survive
that imprisonment. If Scotland broke the treaty, the hostages would certainly
die, and your father had no faith in the earl of Angus and the Douglases, who
were in power at the time.” Huntly laid a hand on Athol’s arm. “Knowing
your
sense of honor, he was fearful that you would go to England and take Adam’s
place.” 

  John Stewart ran a weary hand
over his face. Of course he would have. He was the legitimate son. It was his
place to be there.

“You were educated and brought up
to be laird of your people. As much as he loved both his sons, he felt a responsibility
to your mother, to you, and to the people of the glens around Balvenie Castle.”

“And what of Adam?” He stood,
crossed to the hearth, and stared into the flames.
What of him? What his
brother must have suffered!

Huntly broke into his thoughts. “I
knew it then, and I see now that your father was right. Not telling you the
truth was the right thing to do. Without you succeeding your father, your
people would never be living as they do now.”

“Aye, but Adam rightfully holds me
responsible for what is past. And here, I have been so ignorant of the truth
that instead of seeking him out and trying to make him understand, instead of
trying to make reparations, I have been hunting him like an animal across the
land.”

“I’m more at fault in that than
anyone else.” The earl of Huntly rose to his feet and stepped up beside Athol.
“When I heard of Adam’s freedom six months ago, I should have guessed at the
confusion that would cloud his thinking. But with England again at war with France, I have been under great pressure. In fact ‘twas not until just a few hours ago...”

“Is he here?”

The earl of Huntly paused, his eyes
steadily measuring John. “Yesterday, I would not have answered you. Today, I
know you see him in a very different light.”

“Is he here, and does he know what
I know?”

Huntly shook his head. “He is no
longer here, John. But what I have told you, I have also told him.”

John let out a breath and waited
for the earl to continue. So, they both knew the truth now.

“He was as shocked as you, my
friend, and even more affected by it all, I think.”

For a moment, he wondered--if their
fates had been reversed--how he himself would have taken such news. It is much
easier to turn your anger on someone you hold responsible for your misery, than
to think that Fortune has simply chosen to frown on you.

“Do you know where he is now?”

The earl of Huntly hesitated, and
then shook his head, but somehow John was not convinced of the other man’s
total ignorance.

“‘Tis time that Adam shared in the
land and fortune our father left to me. ‘Tis time that we made our peace.”

“You can do what you like with your
own lands, John, but you do not need to worry about Adam going hungry. As you
know, I have no direct heir, and I’m not getting any younger. I’ve already
spoken to the king and the council, and they have agreed. One of the reasons
for my journey north was to give Adam title to this castle and the lands I have
here. But I do not believe all the wealth in the world matters much to him
right now. He needs some time to reconsider his life and what he wants for the
future.”

But this wasn’t enough, Athol
thought. Not for him. He had to find Adam. They both had to come to terms with
the past...and the future.

Catherine’s words came back to him.
Of her trust in his sense of what was right. Of her insistence of having him
open his heart and letting his words express his feelings. 

John Stewart knew that he was
blessed with an incredibly intelligent and beautiful wife. He was blessed with
a child growing in her womb. And now he knew that he was blessed with a
brother. 

It was up to him to make things
work.

****

The storm had continued unabated
through the night, and the morning’s cold, wet air lay in patches in the corridors of the Balvenie Castle like a company of marsh ghosts. 

Catherine placed a hand on Susan’s
arm at the top of the stairwell.

“Wait for me while I go back and
get a wrap.”

Turning, she ran back along the
corridor toward her chamber.

In truth, for the hundredth time
since yesterday, Catherine wanted to check on the wooden chest sitting
prominently on the stool beside the hearth in her chamber. Brother Bartholomew had done as he had been charged the day before, delivering it to Jean
upstairs. But as she hurried toward her chamber, she wondered whether the
portly monk had shaken the box or perhaps even examined the lock. In fact,
Catherine couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before the ornate box
would be taken or at least broken open.

She was no fool. She had spent most
of her life knowing that she must be watchful of those seeking the Tiberian
treasure. She did not fear them--well, not those she suspected to be near. She
knew that most of these people would not harm her, but she must be on her
guard. And she would lure them out, if any were indeed here at Balvenie Castle, as she suspected.  

The elaborate diversions she and
her sisters had gone to the trouble to devise--to confuse those who might be
searching--had kept their minds active during a time of great distress. But now, alone in the Highlands, she simply hadn’t the time for any such nonsense. Her simple
trap would just have to do.

Opening the door to her chamber and
spotting the chest where she’d left it brought an immediate frown to
Catherine’s face. Moving closer she cast a cursory glance at the lock. It
appeared untouched.

Picking up the Stewart tartan that
lay across the foot of her bed, Catherine draped it about her shoulders.
Catherine turned and looked around the chamber. Perhaps she was being too
obvious, she thought suddenly. After all, she’d simply left the wooden casket
in the open. 

Moving briskly to the head of the
bed, she tucked the small chest beneath pillows and bedding, piling everything
back on top of it. Standing back with an approving nod, she turned and headed
out the door.