“Only if ye ken to look for it.” She patted Annys’s arm when she saw the woman’s look of doubt. “Truly. Our laird had black hair and brown eyes. And ye have that touch of gold in your eyes. Any other features that may match Sir Harcourt’s willnae show for many a year yet. But, in truth, there is a strong similarity betwixt him and our poor laird. The mon is just bigger, stronger, than Sir David e’er was.”
“Are ye just saying such things to ease my worries?”
“Nay. ’Tis the truth. Only if ye ken what we do can ye look and see it. If ye dinnae ken that he bred the lad, weel, then it isnae so clear to see.”
Annys sighed in relief. “Good. That is a trouble I dinnae need.”
“Nay, ye have enough to deal with now. I think ye should write to Sir Adam’s sire and tell him what that fool son of his is doing.”
When Joan stood up, Annys settled herself in her bed as she thought over that suggestion. “And how can I be certain his father isnae the one prodding him to do this?”
“Ye will ken it by what the mon says in reply.”
“Ah, there is that. It cannae make matters any worse, I suspect. I will think on what to say. Sleep weel, Joan. I forsee a verra busy time ahead for us.”
“If only because we have six big knights to feed and tend to.”
Annys laughed softly and made herself more comfortable in her bed as Joan left. She thought on Sir Callum’s suggestion that poison may have caused her husband’s death, unable to banish the thought as she wished to. Having spent so many years at Glencullaich she found it hard to believe that anyone would hurt David. She did not even understand why Sir Adam would have done such a thing for it was not enough to place Glencullaich in his hands. There was still Benet standing between him and the laird’s seat.
That thought chilled her to the bone. If she accepted, or even proved, that David had been murdered, then her child was in terrible danger. If Sir Adam could get to David then he could get to Benet. He could claim his hands were clean if accused of poisoning David for he had not actually done the deed. All he needed was a way to be able to claim the same thing when he struck at Benet.
Her growing fear for her child made it impossible to sleep. Annys got up and pulled on a robe. She moved into the small room where there was a door that let her go up on the battlements. A pang of grief went through her as she opened the door and heard the soft bell ring. David had been so pleased when he had arranged that warning to the men on the walls. It had allowed them some privacy if they chose to go outside at night. She had never appreciated it more than she did now.
Climbing the narrow stone stairs, Annys fought to calm her fears. She could find reasons for someone to betray them all by helping Adam rid Glencullaich of its laird. Yet, try as she would, she could find none for anyone helping him murder a small child. She simply could not believe any of the people she knew would be capable of such a heinous crime. If she did not convince herself to accept that possibility, however, she would be putting her son’s life in danger.
Resting her arms on top of the wall, Annys looked out over the moonlit lands of Glencullaich. She had no trouble at all in understanding Sir Adam’s greed for the place. It was too far from the border to suffer from raids, and too out of the way of the roads to the cities or the king’s court to have to worry overmuch about an enemy force sweeping through. It was good land and well watered. A man would not have to work hard to have a very comfortable life here, a rare thing in Scotland. David had even managed to keep them out of any local feuds.
Sir Adam MacQueen was not a man to appreciate such things, however, she decided. He would settle into Glencullaich and immediately want more. He was also of a temperament to tangle the clan up in feuds with the neighboring clans. Yet, she could think of no way to get him to end his quest to gain hold of the lands.
“Weel, I could just kill the fool,” she muttered.
“Kill who?” asked a deep voice from right behind her.
Annys squeaked in alarm and looked behind her. She was relieved to see that it was Harcourt but also annoyed that he had frightened her. The way he looked at her as she stood there in her nightclothes swept both feelings aside, leaving her struggling to crush the warmth of welcome and womanly interest.
“Who do ye think ye should just kill?” he asked again as he stepped up beside her.
“Sir Adam.” She looked back out over the land. “I dinnae think he will e’er stop trying to get his hands on Glencullaich.”
“Nay,” agreed Harcourt. “He willnae. ’Tis good land.” He patted the wall. “With a good strong keep. And that has ye worried?”
“If your friend is right, then he has already killed David. The only one left standing between him and this land is Benet, a little boy.
My son.
Aye, I am worried.”
“Good.” He smiled at the way she frowned at him. “Then ye will be keeping a verra close watch on the lad and all who draw near him. I ken ye do now, just as any mother does, but ye have always trusted everyone in this keep, probably everyone in the clan.”
“Aye, I do.” She sighed. “Did.” She shook her head. “I try to deny that my husband was murdered with poison yet it answers too many questions about the strange illness that took his life. I have seen most illnesses a mon can get and I had ne’er seen one quite like that. The learned men we brought in to help were uncertain as weel, although they did their best to hide that. I e’en ken most of the things that can poison one and what happens but ne’er that. The way it can be slipped into food or drink by an unseen hand is the most frightening. How does one fight that?”
“Weel, some kings have someone taste their food first.”
Annys smiled. “Benet may nay like that. But it does give me something to think about. Mayhap his meals should be prepared only by one I completely trust until the threat to him has passed.”
“And who would that be?”
“Joan.”
“Of course.”
Harcourt was finding it difficult not to touch her, to reach out and stroke the thick braid of hair hanging down her back, touch her soft cheek, or even just hold her small hand in his. He wanted her but knew it could be something that would only add to the troubles she now carried. The whole keep would know as soon as they became lovers. Even if that did not make everyone look more closely at Benet, it could weaken her position as lady of the keep, as the one acting in the stead of the laird.
“Why did I hear a bell?” he asked, trying desperately to get his mind off how sweet she smelled and how badly he wanted to pull her into his arms.
“Ah, David fixed that. I have always liked to come out here if I am too restless to sleep. He wanted me to be comfortable in doing so nay matter what I was clothed in.” She blushed as she ran a hand down the side of her robe. “Some nights he would join me and we found it helped us sort out some problem to stand here looking at the stars and talking quietly. He wanted no one to interrupt those moments, either. So the men move away from this small part of the wall when they hear the bell.”
“Clever. And have ye been able to sort out the problem that brought ye here tonight?”
“Aye. I must accept that someone in this keep helped kill my husband and may be convinced to try and kill my son.” The moment she said those words she knew she had finally accepted that chilling truth and nodded. “I ken it now and so now I will work to keep Benet safe and find out who betrayed us all.”
She looked at him standing so close to her that she could feel his warmth. He awoke something inside her that had been sleeping since he had walked away a little over five years ago. Annys was not sure what she should do about that. A part of her insidiously whispered that she should take what she wanted but the practical side of her hesitated, mulled over how complicated that would make her life, and reminded her of how her heart had broken when he had just walked away. It was just another thing she had to think about.
But not tonight, she told herself. Not when he was standing so close her hands itched to reach out and touch him. Not with the night sky bathing them in a soft welcoming light that had her memories of their time together rushing to the fore of her mind. None of those things made a rational, practical decision possible.
“I had best get inside,” she said even as she started to move away from him. “It has been a verra long day and it appears there will be many more to come. Adam will make certain of it. Sleep well, Sir Harcourt.”
“And you, m’lady,” he replied and watched her until she went back into the keep.
The little bell rang as she shut the door and he could hear the men returning. Nicolas was the first to appear and he waved the man to his side. It was past time to have a long talk with his friend.
“Did ye come up here with Lady Annys?” asked Nicolas as he leaned against the wall next to Harcourt.
“Nay,” Harcourt replied. “I came up on the wall from another route and found her here. I was actually hunting ye down. Ye have made a fine place for yourself here.”
“I have. It is a fine keep with good lands and it used to have a verra fine mon as its laird.” Nicolas cursed under his breath. “He suffered and I will make the one responsible for that pay when we find him.”
“It may be a her.”
“Doesnae much matter to me. The murder of the laird was the darkest of betrayals, especially when that laird was as good a one as Sir David. I was nay here long before I realized I had found my place and often silently thanked ye for that. I didnae fool the mon for long, either. He soon kenned just where I had come from and who had sent me.”
Harcourt smiled and nodded. “I thought he would. A quick-witted mon was David. Since he didnae send ye back, I will assume he wasnae offended that I asked ye to come here.”
“Nay. He said he was nay surprised ye would do so, either. He occasionally expressed regret that he had e’er asked ye for that gift. He kenned it wouldnae be easy for ye to turn your back on the lad. By the looks on their faces, I suspicion your companions wonder on it all as weel.”
“They do and took the first moment we were all alone to question me. I told them the truth. They understood yet I still suffered under the lash of their tongues for just walking away from my own child and the woman who bore him. That took longer to explain. Since David was such a good mon, and my companions kenned that soon after entering the keep, it softened the inquiry and what could have been a harsh condemnation. E’en from the MacFingals.”
“Weel, for all they are a mad lot and their father breeds more bairns than should be allowed, that mon ne’er walked away from them.”
“True enough. There was no other way.”
“Nay, there wasnae, nay if David was to have the heir he and Glencullaich so badly needed.”
“I am ashamed to admit how long it took me to realize that I wasnae truly comfortable leaving my child in the hands of another mon.”
Nicolas studied Harcourt for a moment and then said, “I suspect it wasnae so easy for ye to walk away from the lass, either.”
“Nay, it wasnae but it took me a while to admit to that, too.” Harcourt gave a laugh that held little humor in it. “Foolish young idiot that I was, it took me a while to accept that I hated nay being able to claim or raise the lad as weel as claim his mother. The beliefs of my kinsmen are obviously rooted more deeply in me than I kenned.”
“The lad was weel loved, and treated weel, too. David was a good father to him. Wheesht, he adored the lad. One reason Sir Adam was banished from the hall is because he openly stated his opinion of the lad’s legitimacy. In front of the boy. For a moment I thought David would kill the fool. Now I wish he had.”
“And how do the people of this clan feel about Benet?”
“They love him. I have ne’er seen anyone be anything but kind to the boy, even a wee bit too indulgent from time to time. They ken he wasnae David’s.” Nicolas nodded at the shock on Harcourt’s face. “They dinnae care. The laird made his love for that boy so clear, his claim of the boy so loud and unwavering, that they all just joined in with the game. They kenned the mon might ne’er sire his own child and it had worried them. Benet’s birth soothed their fears. Most e’en suspect their laird arranged it all for they kenned he could be sly and ruthless when needed. Their acceptance of Benet as their future laird was complete, ne’er a doubt shown or spoken. ’Tis why I find the possibility that someone here murdered David verra hard to accept. I do believe Callum is right about it being poison but it will take a while ere I can think of it without that instinctive denial.”
“Annys also found it hard to believe but she does now. She also accepts that Benet is now in danger.”
“Good. It will make it easier to keep a watch on the lad. It willnae be easy. He is accustomed to running free here and in the village. I will make certain someone is with him at all times though.”
“Just be certain it is one ye trust.”
Nicolas nodded. “I will.”
“How ready are these men to meet what could become a full fight for these lands?”
Harcourt listened to Nicolas’s report and was heartened by it. Work was needed but the men of Glencullaich were not completely green. He was determined, however, to turn them into a highly skilled fighting force that any king would envy. Every instinct he had told him that Sir Adam MacQueen would soon get weary of playing with Annys and then the real fight would begin.
Chapter Three
Sir Adam MacQueen’s appearance at the gates of Glencullaich the next day did not surprise Harcourt at all. Knowing how fast word could travel about any strangers in an area, he had suspected the man would hear about him and his men arriving and staying with Annys. Harcourt had had his men watch for anyone leaving the keep or village, for anyone acting the spy, but they had found no one slipping away. That, too, was not surprising although he had hoped for a bit of luck there. The talk roused by the appearance of strangers had obviously been enough to alert Sir Adam, however.
It took but one look at how the people of Glencullaich reacted to the arrival of Sir Adam MacQueen and his men for Harcourt to know that the man would never be a welcome choice for their laird. The people in the bailey looked at Sir Adam and his men as one would a pack of feral dogs, worried that one of the animals would leap at someone’s throat at any moment. Harcourt looked into the man’s cold blue eyes and decided the people of Glencullaich had very good instincts. David had used the same judgment as one of the reasons he so desperately needed an heir. It also better explained how it was these people could accept as heir a child they were all fairly certain had not been sired by their laird.
“Greetings, Sir Adam,” Annys said as she walked out of the keep and stood next to Harcourt on the steps. “We were nay expecting you. Have ye stopped for a rest in your travels?”
“I have come here to judge for myself if the rumors I heard were true or nay,” he snapped as he dismounted and strode to stand at the base of the steps. “I now see that they were the truth. Ye have hired yourself some swords.”
“Nay, I havenae. These men are nay hired swords, Sir Adam. Ye lack courtesy to so quickly name them so. They are old friends.” Seeing the way Sir Adam’s eyes narrowed as he studied the six strong men now flanking her, Annys hastily performed the introductions.
Anger had put a hint of color into Adam’s cheeks. Recalling how he could strike out when angry, Annys desperately tried to think of something else to say before the man had a chance to spit out his anger in ill-chosen words. The very last thing she needed was a battle starting right inside her bailey.
“I have heard of the MacFingals,” Sir Adam said, disdain weighting each word.
“Aye, my clan is weel kenned far and wide,” said Sir Nathan MacFingal, “and our fame and glory grow with each passing day. ’Tis kind of ye to note it.”
Annys looked at the man, struggling to hide her surprise over such a boast. Sir Nathan was grinning as widely as Harcourt and the others were, apparently oblivious to the insult that had just been delivered. That made no sense for they were not stupid men. Yet, every one of them looked one word away from tumbling into a hearty bout of laughter. She wished she knew what jest they shared. The way Adam clenched his hands into white-knuckled fists told her he knew and this reaction to his attempted insult was infuriating him. When Adam turned his glare upon her, Annys barely stopped herself from stepping back in alarm. To hide her fear, she stood even straighter and idly brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek.
“My cousin isnae e’en cold in his grave but a few weeks and ye have already collected yourself a new stable,” Adam said in a cold, hard voice. “But, mayhap this one isnae so new, aye?” he added with a faint nod toward Harcourt.
Joan’s gasp of shock came from behind Annys but she was more interested in the sword point touching Adam’s throat. She had not seen Harcourt move yet the man was one short step from ending Adam’s life. It was very tempting to let him, but Annys knew she would regret it as soon as the deed was done. She needed proof of Adam’s crimes against her. Without it, she and Benet would fight the charge of murder for the rest of their lives. At its weakest it would hurt them in any relationships, truces, or treaties they wished to make to better the lives of the people of Glencullaich. At its worst, it could get her neck into a hangman’s noose and leave Benet alone and unprotected. It would cause Sir Harcourt a great deal of trouble as well since it would be his sword that had drawn Adam’s blood.
“Since ye appear to have come to Glencullaich to do naught but insult me, Sir Adam,” she said, “I believe I would verra much like ye to leave. Now.”
“Ye would force me off my own family’s lands? Off MacQueen lands?”
“I would demand that ye leave
my
family’s lands, sir. Lands still held by a MacQueen whether ye be standing on them or nay. Lands I ken my late husband has already banished ye from once.”
For a moment she feared the man would attack her despite the sword point tickling his throat. Annys wondered if she had pushed the man too hard but could see nothing else she could do or say. To ignore such an insult to her honor, one delivered before her people and her guests, would reveal a dangerous weakness. That would cause even more trouble than she was facing now. She lightly tapped Sir Harcourt’s sword arm and he slowly pulled back his sword, but only a little.
“Ye go too far, woman,” Adam said and moved to remount his horse. “So does this mon ye call friend. Ye will regret it. Ye may trust me on that.”
Annys was too slow to shield her face with her hand when Adam and his men kicked their horses into a gallop and rode out through the gates. Dust and grit stung her eyes and made her cough. It gave her some small comfort to hear others doing the same, indicating that she was not the only one too slow to guess that Adam’s leave-taking would be as rude as his arrival. When Joan, softly cursing Adam in ways Annys would never have guessed the woman knew, pressed a cool, wet cloth into her hands, she quickly put it to use.
As soon as her eyes were clear, Annys looked at Sir Harcourt. It was irritating to see that he and his companions had obviously anticipated Adam’s petty action. All six watched Adam and his men ride away with such intensity it made her belly tighten with unease. She suspected not one of them would accept much of Sir Adam’s arrogant disrespect. They would not ignore a threat, either, and there was no question that Sir Adam had just delivered one. And this time Sir Adam had committed his crime in front of a whole bailey full of witnesses.
“His rush to your gates upon hearing of our arrival was the act of a mon who allows his anger to rule him,” said Harcourt as, once certain the gates were again well secured, he took Annys by the arm, and began to lead her back inside. “That is a weakness.”
“Doomed fools,” said Sir Nathan and winked at her before hurrying back into the great hall. “Ah, the angels smile upon me for there is more of that fine ale.”
“A mon easily pleased by the simple things in life,” Harcourt said, a hint of laughter behind his words.
Annys could not help but smile, although that pleasant touch of amusement only lightened her heart for a moment. Adam’s visit had been uncomfortable for many reasons. His anger and threats were something she now anticipated each time she saw him. It was the way he had looked at Harcourt that troubled her now. Annys had seen the glint of recognition in the man’s eyes. She just wished she could know if it was because Adam recognized Harcourt from the time he had stayed at Glencullaich or if he saw as much of Benet in the man as she did. Joan had assured her that the resemblance between Harcourt and his son was not that obvious, but Sir Adam had seen it, or thought he had. She could only hope that the man did not start flinging accusations at Harcourt, too.
She sat down, smiled at the young boy who served her some cider, and tried to ignore how pleased she was that Harcourt sat next to her. It was a foolish thing to be pleased about. She was no young maid too inexperienced to deal with a handsome man. Blushes and a flutter deep in her belly were the reactions of a virgin maid and she had not been one of those for a very long time.
Then she thought on the anger Adam had revealed, the hatred she had seen in his gaze as he had glared at her. That hatred had bloomed after Adam had looked at Harcourt. Annys could understand the anger since Adam felt he was being denied something he was entitled to. She could not understand why he would be so twisted with hatred for her, however. He had not looked at her like that before today and Benet was almost five years old, a child Adam had never believed was truly David’s despite how loudly and widely David had claimed the boy.
“I think we best keep a close watch on everything,” said Harcourt and watched all his companions nod in agreement.
“Because of the threat he made?” Annys asked.
“Aye, although I believe the threat has been there for a while. Mayhap just nay spoken so clearly or openly. There were a lot of witnesses to what he said. The mon has no patience. He wants what he wants right now. Ye have been a thorn in his side for too long.”
“David hasnae been dead that long.”
“True but we now think Sir Adam may have had a hand in that. Yet, despite that, he still cannae claim what he thinks should be his. And why is that?”
“Ah, because David married me and I gave him an heir.”
“Exactly. E’en worse, ye are refusing to cower and let fear move ye to just hand him what he demands, mayhap e’en flee this place. Ye have every intention of holding Glencullaich for your son. Now ye have brought in more men, ones he doesnae ken the strength and skill of.” Harcourt slowly shook his head. “That must be feeding his anger as weel.”
“Why would he e’er think I would just hand him my child’s inheritance and scurry away without complaint?” she asked, certain she had never done anything to give Sir Adam the idea that she was such a coward.
“It may be what he is accustomed to having women do.” He shook his head. “It does us little good to try and understand the why of his unreasonable claims and demands. All that matters to us is making verra sure he doesnae get what he wants and that he doesnae hurt anyone before we put an end to his fool game.”
“That is something I can stand behind. Joan has suggested that I write to Sir Adam’s father and tell him what the man is doing.”
Harcourt frowned and slowly tapped his fingers against the table. “Do ye think it will be that easy to solve this? That the mon’s father can stop him?”
“Nay, not truly. Yet, what harm would be done to try it?”
“Ye dinnae believe the father is making Sir Adam try and gain hold of this place?”
It was a good question, she thought as she slowly cut up an apple. “I dinnae truly ken the mon but I would think he would be here himself, making his own demands or standing right behind his son. The few times I did meet him, he was a verra forceful mon. Sir William was always demanding, always expecting a lot of favors of David, and someone ye were pleased didnae come verra often.”
“Sounds like a mon who would do his own work and nay one to hand it to a younger son. Aye, do write to the father if ye wish to. Now or later. It cannae hurt. I just wouldnae expect much help against his son. He may nay be hand in hand with Sir Adam and his plans, but what ye just said makes me think he wouldnae mind at all if his son got what he was after.”
She nodded and inwardly sighed. David had been cursed in his kinsmen. Annys had always believed that she had been but, although unfeeling and stern, her family had ne’er tried to gain any more than the marriage settlement and a connection with the MacQueens through marriage. They had come to Benet’s christening, congratulated her on doing her duty, and then left. They had come to David’s funeral, suggested she make certain she did not lose what was the heir’s, and then left. She doubted her fear for her child, and herself, would be enough to bestir them to offer her any help.
David’s kin, however, had been persistent in attempting to get all they possibly could from him. One of them showed up at nearly every season claiming poor harvests, cold winters, too many mouths to feed, and all manner of disasters in order to get a donation of some food or stock from David. Cloth was another thing they were often after. She still felt David had always been too generous with those people. Finding some of what they had given his kin for sale at a market near their home had angered her, but David had continued to supply them when they asked. She began to think he had done it to keep any of them from trying to just take what they wanted.
Needing a rest from all the talk of Sir Adam, David, and the threats to her and Benet, Annys excused herself and went to the solar. A letter to Sir Adam’s father could wait. She needed to lose herself in the mindless work of mending and sewing. It could be thought cowardly of her but she did not care. For just a little while she wanted to pretend all was as it had been. Quiet, prosperous, and even happy despite the fact that her husband was a friend and not a lover.
“She doesnae like this,” murmured Nathan after Annys was gone.
“Who would?” asked Harcourt.
“I mean that she doesnae like the changes. From all I have gathered this was always a peaceful place. They have enough for their needs plus enough to sell and put some coin in their purses. They are out of the way of any army or reiver, have ne’er been in the middle of a feud, and appear to have ne’er drawn the attention of the Crown. The homes and lands are in fine shape, the people content, clean, and nay hungry. ’Tis near unreal it is so, weel, content and quiet. Then comes this fool thinking he has some claim on it all. Little troubles start to enter this wee paradise. Then we all come, weel-armed and ready to fight. Aye, I believe it is hard for her to settle into the fight that will be needed to end this.”
“Do ye think she will balk, mayhap e’en try to bargain with the mon?”
“Nay, I just think that she will need a nudge to put an end to it all. She is a clever lass. She kens weel that there really is only one way for this to end. That fool will have to die. He willnae let this go any other way.”
“True. Did ye hear if they have any allies that may be of use?”
“Nay. They have allies, but nay ones with that bond. Ne’er needed such a bond, did they. If people dinnae ride right past them, they come to the market and help fill their coffers. I havenae heard one story of any battle or feud or attack. Nay anything that doesnae begin with saying back in my father’s father’s father’s time or even further back. Which explains why the men are trained, but nay like most of us, we who live in places where trouble comes to visit now and then.”