Highland Guard (6 page)

“So that I can honestly say that I tried to get the family to help, tried to seek aid from my late husband’s kinsmen. It may prove important if Sir Adam gets himself killed.” She sighed. “And he hasnae actually hurt us yet so I would like it ended ere that happens.”

“He killed David.”

“We ken it, but unless we can catch who put the poison in David’s food, I can ne’er prove that.”

“And ye dinnae think he was planning to hurt you today?”

“What good would that have done him? Benet wasnae with me.”

“Because without ye, Benet would be even more vulnerable. Aye, we would still be here to protect him, but Sir Adam may nay believe that. I think he believes we would leave, that ’tis only ye who hold us here.” He nodded when she frowned, her expression revealing her doubt of his words. “The mon doesnae think a plan through. That is a belief I have become more certain of each time he tries something.”

“I am nay sure any of David’s family has the wit to do so,” she said. “Nay any of the ones I have met. David was their brightest light once Nigel was gone. I oftimes felt they all resented him for that, for being such a respected, learned man.”

“There is one thing that puzzles me.” He hesitated, uncertain of how to ask his questions without risking offense, and then decided to simply ask, “Why, if ye were chosen to marry Nigel, did ye wed David?”

“Ye do ken, dinnae ye, that I was betrothed whilst little more than a bairn?”

“Ah, one of those marriages arranged to make some sort of alliance.”

“Exactly. I was just nearing the age to be old enough to marry when I was brought here to learn all about being the lady of this keep. It wasnae long after that when Nigel sailed off to France. He had heard too many tales of men making plenty of coin fighting for the French and how that might e’en give him a verra good chance of fighting the English. I wasnae heartbroken when he left though I had spent enough time with him to think he would be a suitable husband. So I waited. And waited. And waited. David sent out inquiries when we had gone a year without any word from him. Then we got a short visit from a mon who claimed he had fought alongside Nigel and his men and that he was dead.”

“With all the men that went with him? I assume he took some men with him?”

“Aye, some. I fear he did take our best-trained men but that was only a half dozen or so. But, this mon had no information to give us on their fate. He said Nigel was alone by the time he met up with him.”

“And David accepted the mon’s word?”

“Nay, not fully, although he couldnae think of any reason for the mon to travel so far just to tell us a lie. But, he didnae really want it to be true if only because Nigel was the last of his family. His father died ere I came here and his mother died soon after. We have ne’er received any word that would reveal that mon to have been a liar though.”

“And so then ye married David. Did ye nay ken the truth about his injury?”

“I did. Joan told me. E’en David tried to stutter through an explanation. It didnae matter. E’en a childless marriage was better than being sent back home.” She could see that he now meant to ask her about that last statement so she opened the door to her room. “I must see to getting the letter to Sir Adam’s father written now.”

Before Harcourt could say another word he found himself staring at a shut door. He was already reaching for the latch, intending to follow her into the room, when he accepted that it would be a mistake. The need to know why she would dread going back home to her own family was strong, but he knew he had to stand back and allow her to tell him when she was ready to. Cursing softly, he turned to leave. There was more than enough work for him to do to stop his mind from preying on what Annys had not told him.

 

 

Annys listened to Harcourt walk away and breathed a sigh of relief. She had not meant to say anything about why she had chosen to marry David, at least nothing beyond the fact that he would be a good husband and a kind one. Only David and Joan had known that her acceptance of David had had little to do with betrothal contracts, dowries, or some attempt to still become a laird’s wife despite the fact that the laird chosen for her was dead. After the three short visits her parents had made to Glencullaich she suspected the people here fully understood her reasoning. Most had undoubtedly guessed that she had married Glencullaich more than that she had actually married David.

No one had told her parents that she had married a man who could not give her any sons. As far as she knew, no one had ever even confirmed that to the rest of David’s kinsmen, either. The men who had gelded David were all dead. Nigel had seen to that before he had departed for France, leaving her with the promise that he would return a rich man in time to marry her.

She shook her head as she walked over to her writing table. Men with their quests for fame, fortune, and land were the bane of women everywhere, she decided. Nigel had been a good man, would undoubtedly have made a good husband, father, and laird. He had been tall, strong, and handsome with his wild black hair and light green eyes. Now he was gone. There was not even a grave site at Glencullaich where one could go to mourn his loss.

“How can such witless oafs rule the world?” she asked aloud as she sat down at her writing desk and began to sharpen her quill point with a small knife.

A soft meow startled her and she looked down to find the cat she had rescued sitting by her chair, watching her with those eyes. She wondered if Harcourt had yet noticed how closely the animal’s eyes matched his own. Frowning, she looked at the closed door and then back at the cat. It was clean, its golden fur freshly washed, and it smelled slightly of the herbs used to get rid of fleas. A clean bandage was wrapped around the leg that had kept it cruelly tethered to a stake in the alley. It looked like it would recover nicely from its wound. It also should be in the stables.

Shaking her head again, she patted her lap and the cat immediately leapt up on it, curling itself into a tight ball. “I dinnae ken how ye got in here but ye
will
be returned to the stables. Howbeit, for now I dinnae mind the company.”

The cat began to purr, a deep, rumbling noise she found strangely comforting.

“I think ye might weel prove to be some trouble.”

Annys laughed when it opened one eye to look at her and then closed it again. She set a sheet of fine French linen paper in front of her and stared at its pristine emptiness for a long time. This was not going to be easy. How did one politely tell a man to rein in his son before they had to kill the man for his crimes?

 

 

Harcourt watched the young man ride off to deliver Annys’s message to Sir Adam’s father. A glance over his shoulder revealed her standing in the doorway to the keep looking worried. He hoped she had not put too much hope behind her letter to the elder MacQueen. No man could be that blind to what his son was doing so he had to be condoning Sir Adam’s actions, if only by ignoring them.

The MacQueens outside Glencullaich had to be helping Sir Adam because he came and went from the area too often and left no trail to follow. It would also explain how he had obtained a spy within the keep itself. Harcourt was now well acquainted with the deep loyalty of David’s people living at the keep or even in the town. Sir Adam or one of his men would have had to work hard over a long period of time to gain an ally, especially one willing to kill David.

He walked over to Annys, resisting the urge to take her into his arms and try to ease her obvious concerns. “Ye dinnae think he will help.”

“Nay.” She sighed. “I cannae make myself believe he will do anything to stop Sir Adam, nay matter how much I argue with myself. All I am nay certain of is how great a part the laird is playing in his son’s plans. The one thing that keeps me uncertain is that I cannae believe the laird would kill David.”

“He didnae, did he. Nor did Sir Adam.”

“Someone had to tell someone here what to do.”

“Aye, but they could talk their way out of that accusation for they didnae do the deed themselves, were ne’er here to do it.”

“Ye have some opinion about who it was, dinnae ye.”

“As has been suggested, I think it is a lass. That means she was wooed by someone loyal to Sir Adam and, I believe, that would have taken some time. This isnae a new plan the mon has. He has been working on it for quite a while.”

Annys nodded. “And I suspicion his plans began when David loudly proclaimed Benet as his son and heir. The lack of a child before that undoubtedly raised his hopes of gaining this place. He may have e’en kenned about David’s injury. Then comes Benet. Benet needs to be verra closely guarded.”

“He is. He will be. That was seen to the moment we all kenned David was murdered.”

She rubbed a hand over her forehead in a vain attempt to dispel a growing ache in her head. “Then I shall start praying my son stays close to his guards.”

“That would be helpful.” Seeing the pinch of pain on her face, he asked, “The letter was difficult to write?”

“Oh, aye. The hardest part was nay saying what I truly felt.”

“Go and rest.” He stroked her arm. “Now all ye need do is wait for an answer.”

“And find the one who betrayed us.”

“’Tis a woman, Annys. Look there first.”

“We already are.”

He waited until she was back inside the keep before going to look for Callum. That young man was not adored by just the children. All the maids tried very hard to catch his eye. The MacFingals had not been around long enough to gain any information and he had plans for those two that would put them on another trail. However, Callum was not going anywhere. It was time he set a skilled spy of his own amongst the people of Glencullaich.

Harcourt did not know whether to laugh or curse when he found the MacFingals. He had been searching for the two men for an hour. Now he realized he should have gone to where the maids were first. Nathan and Ned were very busy trying to charm two bonnie maids into offering them their favors. If the blushes and giggles of the women were any indication, the MacFingals were close to succeeding in their quest. Although he had thought they would be a good choice to gain some information from the maids, something that might lead them to the traitor, Harcourt did not think they were doing that at the moment. They looked far more interested in warming whatever beds they found to sleep in. When Ned suddenly looked his way, Harcourt signaled him to join him and then impatiently waited while the two men took their leave of the maids in a way that left the women still giggling.

“Has something happened?” asked Nathan.

“Nay,” Harcourt replied, walking back toward the stables where he had begun his long search for the two men, both of them falling into step at his side. “I but need your reputed skill at finding things.”

“What have ye lost?”

“The trail of that bastard causing us all of this trouble.”

“Ah, aye, kenning where he is would be helpful. Ye think he must be close at hand, dinnae ye.”

“It would explain the ease with which he slipped away yesterday. I also think all these wee attacks, and annoyances, are meant to weaken us. Mayhap distract us just enough to nay see what his true plan is.”

Ned frowned. “And that would be?”

“To attack, to take what he wants by force and, I suspect, to make certain that Annys and Benet dinnae survive to continue to argue about his claim for this land.” He stopped, leaned against the side of the stables, and frowned. “He may think to just be rid of Annys and Benet to clear his path to the laird’s chair here but he has already failed to get hold of her and Benet is verra closely watched at all times.”

Nathan nodded. “He has also tried his luck with the courts and the king and gained naught.”

“So that leaves war,” Harcourt said. “If he cannae take Glencullaich easy, he
will
take it hard.”

“Ye think he may be gathering an army.” Nathan looked around at the men of Glencullaich working in the bailey. “I dinnae think these men are prepared enough to fight an army.”

“Nay,” Harcourt agreed, “but they are gaining skill every day. That may be something Adam doesnae ken. He saw us, judged our skill as a threat, but I dinnae think he has the wit to see that we could weel give some of that skill to these men. And he doesnae have enough respect for them to believe they could learn. These men may nay be full ready to repel an assault on this keep but they have the heart and stomach to do their best to try. Dinnae think Sir Adam kens that either. At least that is one weakness we might be able to make use of.”

“And ye want as much information on where he is and what he is doing as possible.”

“I do. E’en what alehouse he goes to or what maid he is swiving.”

“We will get ye what we can.”

Harcourt watched the two enter the stables to select their horses and sighed. The MacFingals had a reputation for their ability to spy or steal with a skill none could match. The clan had, more or less, stopped stealing since their laird, Ned and Nathan’s eldest brother, Ewan, was trying very hard to shine up the MacFingal name. The skill they had for spying, however, as well as their reputation for being fierce, skilled fighters, had proven very helpful to Ewan in getting some of his far-too-many brothers into good positions with other clans. Harcourt knew the necessity of what he asked of Ned and Nathan but hoped he had not put them in too much danger.

Nathan and Ned had soon selected their horses and packed their supplies. After wishing them a safe journey, Harcourt turned to go back into the keep only to catch sight of Annys. She stood watching the MacFingals leave, her soft, full lips curved into a small frown. Harcourt’s gut clenched with want as the memory of her kiss washed over him. It had been two long days since he had kissed her and she had done her best to avoid him since then.

That would stop now, he decided, as he walked toward her. He refused to be ignored. He wanted more than the occasional kiss snatched when he caught her alone at some weak moment. Harcourt decided he was going to seduce her and he smiled when he reached her side, looking forward to the challenge. The way she looked a little wary did not surprise him. He suspected he looked somewhat predatory, the hunter inside him revealing itself in his smile.

“Has something happened?” Annys asked. “Is that why Nathan and Ned are leaving?”

“Nay, nothing has happened.” He was not surprised that the question was so often asked around Glencullaich. “I just decided it was past time we kenned where that fool Adam is and just what he may be doing. Kenning where he is could be a great help. He slips in and out of your lands with far too much ease and disappears far too quickly. I want to ken how he does that.”

“It is going to get worse, isnae it?”

“Oh, aye. The mon has only two ways to get his greedy hands on this land, doesnae he. He can be rid of you and Benet. Or, he can just take it all away from you, making verra certain that ye and Benet dinnae survive the taking to challenge him later.”

She paled and he put his arm around her slim shoulders, pulling her up close against his side. It was a harsh truth but she had to face it. Harcourt suspected she was aware of what the next step in this dance would be, certainly after Sir Adam’s attempt to kidnap her, but it was time to face the truth with her eyes wide open and her mind clear of doubt or false hopes. She needed to be fully prepared for the battle he knew was coming.

Annys forced herself to stop enjoying how he held her close and started thinking again. The man was skilled at muddling her wits. The moment he was near all she could think of was how badly she wanted to kiss him. She inwardly cursed, recognizing how cleverly she could lie to herself. In truth, when he was near, all she could think of was making love. She was failing miserably in shaking free of that weakness.

“I ken it,” she said, pulling away from him and ignoring how her whole body protested the loss of his warmth. “I do. I just wish it wasnae so. Worse than that, I think too often on how Sir Adam is actually right to claim that Benet isnae the true heir.”

“Oh nay, lass. Benet is indeed the true heir. David claimed that lad as his son and the lad was born within the bounds of your Church-blessed marriage to the mon. That is all the law and the Church require. Lass, trust me to ken this as truth when I tell ye, Benet will nay be the first heir who carried none of his mother’s husband’s blood.”

“That is rather sad.”

“At times. At other times ’tis for the best. I dinnae think many do as David did but others ken weel that the son they claim as heir, the lad they raise and train, isnae truly their get. There are many reasons for that, too. Nay begetting a son of his own is the most common of reasons. The moment David held Benet and claimed, ‘This is
my
son,’ Benet became the true heir to Glencullaich in the eyes of the law and the Church.”

“That fact doesnae stop the whispers Sir Adam has stirred up with his talk. Whispers and doubts my son may have to suffer from for the rest of his life.”

He sighed as she walked back into the keep. Harcourt knew she was right. And in this matter the truth would not free Benet from that. He inwardly shook his head at his own heedless actions of five years ago.

Then he thought of all David had said to convince him. To his shame it had not been that difficult for the man. Harcourt had wanted Annys from the first moment he had seen her, opening his eyes to find her leaning over him and bathing his feverish brow with a cool damp cloth. There was no disputing what David had said, Sir Adam’s actions now proving that the man’s fears for Glencullaich had been well justified. Yet, Harcourt could not help but think that it had not been his head doing his thinking for him at the time.

As he stepped into the great hall to see Benet sitting next to Annys, the boy’s short legs swinging back and forth as he told her about some snail he had seen in the garden, Harcourt sighed. He could torture himself with guilt, bemoan the way he had allowed lust to lead him, and even suffer the pangs of shame for walking away from her and the child he had bred, but one thing he would never change. Without all that had happened, all that was wrong, there had been one blessed outcome of the past: Benet.

“Och, the snail couldnae have been that large,” he teased as he walked up to the table to sit down facing them and noted with amusement that Benet was holding his hands at least a foot apart. “A snail that big could chomp on a wee lad like you.”

Benet sat up straight and puffed out his thin chest. “I would fight. I would beat him with my stick.” He frowned down at his feet. “I would stomp him with my shoe but then it would get all messy and I like my shoes.”

“Ah, aye, they are verra fine shoes. Of course, it isnae good to kill a poor creature that is just trying to find a meal for itself. But it needs to leave the garden before it eats all that we need for our meals.”

Benet leapt up and scrambled out of the seat. “I will get Tomas and Robbie to help me put it outside the walls.”

And then he was gone and Harcourt shook his head over the speed with which the boy moved. “Who are Tomas and Robbie?”

“Joan’s sons. They are older than Benet. Ten and twelve and they work in the stables most days. But they are verra good with him.”

“’Tis good for a wee lad to have some older ones willing to play with him. We dinnae oftimes see it, but they can teach a wee lad a lot he needs to ken. But, are there no younger children about the keep?”

“There are a few lassies his age but they dinnae play together much. They have all reached that silly age where they each believe the other sex is dim-witted or worse. Benet complained yestereve that all wee Jenny wants to do is kiss him and he hates it because it makes his face all wet.” She grinned when Harcourt laughed but then slowly grew serious again as she looked toward the door Benet had just run out of. “I didnae give it a thought but he just ran off alone.”

“Nay, he isnae and willnae be alone until this problem with Sir Adam is settled. Every place he can leave the keep is being watched and a mon will linger close by at all times.”

“Ah, a loose rein.”

“Too tight a one and he might try to slip free of it.”

“True.” She finished off the small cup of cider she had poured for herself and stood up. “The MacFingals willnae be in too much danger, will they?”

“I willnae lie and say they are in no danger at all, but they are verra, verra skilled at what I have asked them to do. As their father liked to say, MacFingals could steal the coins off a dead mon’s eyes and be gone before the mourners e’en realized they were there.”

“Oh. What a verra strange recommendation for a spy,” she murmured, then laughed and shook her head. “The MacFingals are a wee bit unusual, arenae they.”

“A wee bit.” He stood up and walked over to link his arm with hers. “Come. Walk with me and I will tell ye all about them.”

Annys knew she should say no and go do some work, but it was a fine day and she decided to allow herself just a little weakness. She nodded and he led her out of the keep. They strolled around the grounds, ending up in the garden, now empty of snail and boys. All the while she listened to him tell her tales of the MacFingals torn between shock, laughter, and pure disbelief.

“So many children,” she said and shook her head as he led her to the bower and urged her down to sit on the bench next to him. “Yet, he kept them all.”

“Aye, he did. And for all those many, many lads grumble about the mon, they love him. He kens each and every one’s name, when they were born, and who the mother was. Not one of them doubts that in his too often outrageous way, their father cares for them all.”

“A good thing for a child to ken.”

She suddenly felt both sad and angry. She was the legitimate get of her parents, their only daughter and one of a mere three children. Yet not once had she felt cared for in the way all those dozens of MacFingals had. Annys fought the fear that it was her fault even as she wondered what was wrong with her parents that they could not even compare well to a man who bred so many bastards, was proud of his skill for thievery, and made enemies of all his neighbors until his own son had to take his place as laird just to avert war with everyone for miles around them.

“Ye have gone verra quiet,” Harcourt said as he slipped his arm around her shoulders.

“I was but thinking that the MacFingals, for all that is wrong there, had a better parent than I e’er did.” She cursed softly at what she had just confessed. “Dinnae heed me. I but had a moment of feeling sorry for myself.”

“I did hear that your parents were nay here verra often.”

“The wedding, the birth, and David’s funeral.”

“Then what did they think to gain from arranging the marriage? So few visits imply they were nay trying to gain much from David.”

“Oh, they got what they wanted. David’s father got them into the court circles. They had ne’er been able to get there for my mother’s father had angered the wrong people years ago and the whole family was banished. The ruler of the court may change but the ones who dinnae wish to see ye or yours take longer to disappear and the talk of some taint, e’en longer than that. But they are back and from all I hear, they are rarely anywhere else.”

“So, they didnae really care which son ye married as they had already gained what they sought.”

“Aye. I was brought here to learn to be the wife of the laird of Glencullaich.”

“They didnae e’en try to make a new contract when Nigel was cried dead?”

“Nay, although I think they did get a few wagons of goods from David.” She looked at him. “I think ’tis more embarrassing than aught else. I would thank them for placing me in such a wonderful keep save that I ken weel they didnae care much about that, or e’en about what sort of mon Nigel was.”