The Border Trilogy (40 page)

Gillespie expressed immediate denial, but a sudden, wonderful thought shattered its way into Mary Kate’s busy mind, and she spoke quickly, forcing a light laugh.

“Nonsense, sir. Of course you must take a cog with me. Whatever would my husband say were I to turn a guest thirsty from his house? Ellen, Mr. Gillespie will have a cog of Dame Beaton’s delicious punch, and I shall take a small glass of sherry wine.” She stared hard at the young woman, but Ellen’s expression did not alter by so much as the twitch of a hair.

“At once, mistress.”

“It will do you no good to delay the inevitable, lassie mine,” Gillespie said the instant the door had shut. Coming up behind her, he pulled her close, slid his hands possessively over her bodice, and began to caress her firm breasts.

Longing to slap him, Mary Kate said grimly, “Please, sir, you will disarrange my gown, and the maidservant will return right speedily.”

“A pox on the maidservant!” he said curtly. But he released her. “This is not well done of you, dearling. You but delay matters, and if we dally, your husband will be upon us. You cannot wish for that to happen any more than I do.”

“No, sir, but if you will recall, I wished for none of this. And Ellen would have thought it odd had I offered you no refreshment. Allow me time to compose myself, I pray you.”

“Very well.” He sighed. “We shall take a cup together, but do not think to dawdle overlong. My patience is but thin stuff at best.”

Ellen returned a moment later, bearing a pewter mug and a wineglass on a silver tray. She served her mistress first, then presented the mug to Gillespie, watching with undisguised interest while he took a first, cautious sip.

“Excellent,” he pronounced. “What’s in this brew, lass?”

“I dinna ken, sir,” Ellen replied truthfully. “’Tis Dame Beaton’s ain concoction o’ herbs and spices mixed wi’ whiskey. She will be pleased tae learn it meets wi’ your approval.”

“You may go now, Ellen,” Mary Kate said swiftly, lest Gillespie demand information about Dame Beaton.

He hardly waited for the latch to click behind the maidservant before he tossed off the rest of his drink and moved purposefully toward Mary Kate. “If you want that wine, lassie mine, you had best drink it down quickly. Do we stay here or go upstairs?”

She would have liked to delay longer, but she didn’t dare try to take him upstairs. “Here,” she said finally, wondering how long it would be before the powders would take effect. That they might not work at all also occurred to her. Just because they allowed Ellen to sleep was no guarantee that they would in any way affect a strapping young man like Gillespie.

When he took the wineglass from her hand and set it on a nearby table and then turned back to take her in his arms, she did not resist, believing instinctively that the powders would work better if she did not agitate him. Nevertheless, it was all she could do to submit to his caresses. His lips crushed down possessively upon her own, while his right hand swooped to untie her laces, then crept inside her bodice and beneath her lace-edged shift to caress her naked breast.

Mary Kate shuddered, clenching her fists in order to keep from clawing at him with her long fingernails. His tongue began to probe for entrance between her teeth, and just when she was certain she could bear no more, the door opened again behind her.

“Och, mistress!” The young gillie stared, mouth agape. “Forgive me, mistress. I—I…” Tammie continued to stand rooted upon the threshold, goggling.

Gillespie straightened quickly, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. He barely had time to recognize the lad, however, before the powders took their toll. Since his hand was still inside Mary Kate’s bodice and his other arm still encircled her waist, he nearly took her down with him when he collapsed. The disquieting sound of tearing cloth reached her ears but went unheeded while she fought to recover her balance if not her poise. The gillie’s unexpected appearance had caught her completely off her guard.

Color flooded her cheeks as she struggled to pull the front of her gown into place, and she could think of nothing to say except that Gillespie had been taken ill. “Fetch Ellen Kennedy,” she added desperately. “She will know what to do.”

Tammie fled and soon returned with Ellen, who took in the situation at a glance and knelt down, pretending to examine Gillespie.

“’Tisna bad, mistress. He ha’ naught but fainted. Gin the lad here will help us put him on yon window bench, the poor mon will soon be up and aboot again.”

Tammie helped willingly, but when he had been dismissed from the room, Ellen turned a worried look upon her mistress.

“What did the lad see, mistress? He were in an unco tirrivee when he coom tae fetch me.”

Mary Kate grimaced. “He saw that viper hugging me. He may also have seen that his hand was where it had no business to be, for he came in just before the stupid man finally collapsed. I am so glad that you understood me, Ellen, and were able to help. I am afraid I’ve flung myself into the suds again.”

“Aye, mistress, I doot ye not. Tammie came in tae mak’ certain ye were safe—all anerly wi’ such a mon as that one, as ye were, and m’self not liking the look in his eyes. ’Tis tae be hoped the lad disna run straight off tae the master wi’ sich a tale as he mun be burning tae tell.”

“Godamercy!” Mary Kate exclaimed. “He must not. Run after him, Ellen, and fetch him back at once.”

But although Ellen made haste, she had to report that Tammie was gone. “What will we do now, mistress?”

“I do not know,” Mary Kate said miserably. “How long will that doltish coof be unconscious?”

“I canna say,” Ellen confessed. “I emptied three full packets into his cappie. I only hope tae the guid Lord I havna killed the mon.”

“Well, I hope you have,” Mary Kate retorted, “because I cannot think for my life how I shall explain this muddle to the master. I suppose we must simply leave the stupid man where he lies, and I shall be forced—God help me to tell Sir Adam the whole sorry tale. But oh, Ellen, how angry he will be!”

Ellen could not deny the truth of those words. “Master might force ye tae mak’ penance afore the kirk, mistress, for sich a thing. Tae stand accused o’ lust…” Her voice faltered. She could say no more.

Mary Kate stared at her, her vivid imagination presenting her with a clear picture of Rose MacReady on the stool of repentance. She had heard, too, that in Edinburgh such matters were dealt with much more sternly than elsewhere. Women accused of lust or fornication could be bared to their waists and scourged through the streets of the city. All the color had drained from her face before good sense came to her rescue.

“He won’t,” she said tightly. “To do so would be to make this business a public affair, which he would abominate above all else. But what he will do to me himself,” she added with a grimace, “does not bear thinking about.”

The two young women looked helplessly at each other until the tense moment was shattered by a sudden, thunderous pounding upon the front door.

“Oh, no!” Mary Kate cried. “He cannot be here so soon.”

“’Tisna the master,” Ellen replied practically. “He wouldna knock on his ain door. ’Tis more likely Mistress Margaret and Sir Patrick come tae call.”

“Well, they must not see Gillespie. Quickly, Ellen, help me move him.”

Spurred on by repeated pounding on the door, they seized Gillespie by the shoulders, dumped him unceremoniously off the window seat, then dragged him any way they could into a small adjoining antechamber, where they shut the door upon him. He hadn’t so much as stirred.

Mary Kate hurriedly relaced her bodice, noting that it had been ripped between two of the eyelets. The rip was not serious, however, and she tucked the ragged edges under, saying, “Hurry, Ellen. No one else is here to answer the door.”

Smoothing her apron, Ellen ran into the hall, pausing at the door long enough to sweep loose strands of her blond hair under her cap before admitting the visitors. Laughing merrily and demanding to know why they had been kept standing upon the stoop, Margaret and her new husband entered, accompanied by Ned Lumsden, whom they had met on the pavement below.

Mary Kate stared at the three of them, feeling as though she had had a narrow escape in more ways than one. The others went on laughing and chatting, and she made mechanical responses, unable to keep her thoughts off the possible corpse lying in the antechamber as she listened to her guests with one ear while keeping the other cocked for sounds of her husband’s return. Certain as she was that the gillie had gone to fetch him, she did not have to tax her vivid imagination to suppose what sort of tale the lad would tell him or what his reaction would be.

“Mary Kate, what is it?” Margaret’s voice broke through her thoughts, and she looked up to find all three of her visitors staring at her with open curiosity.

“What is what?” she replied vaguely.

“Ned has spoken to you three times and you have not answered him once. And you never explained, now that I come to think about it, why it took Ellen so long to answer the door. Something is amiss. I know it is. Where is Adam?”

“At Holyrood, I suppose.” It was too much to hope that the king had sent him on a mission into England or to some more distant land.

“Well,” Margaret said indignantly, “I think it is shameful that he is not here to greet us when he must have known we would be paying our bride visits today.”

“Do not trouble your head unnecessarily,” Mary Kate said wretchedly. “He will be home soon enough.” She strove to keep her voice steady, but thinking of Douglas just then sent shivers shooting up her spine. When he heard that she had been making love to Gillespie, he would be enraged again, and just when things had been going well between them at last. If she escaped this time with a whole skin, it would be marvelous indeed, and it would be even more marvelous if he did not send her home to Tornary in disgrace. Then Gillespie would tell his awful tale of treason, and since she wouldn’t even be in Edinburgh to plead for the king’s mercy, Douglas would be hanged, drawn, and quartered.

“Mary Kate!” Though Mary Kate had not been aware of movement, Margaret was kneeling now in front of her.

Mary Kate shook herself. “Forgive me. I am not myself today.”

“No, that you are not,” Margaret agreed. “Have you quarreled with Adam again?”

“Not yet,” Mary Kate replied without thinking.

“Not yet!” Margaret grabbed her by the shoulders none too gently and gave her a shake. “Mary Kate, collect your wits at once and tell me what has happened. At once, do you hear me? There is no use prevaricating, either, for I shall not rest until I know exactly what has happened. If you want Patrick and Ned to leave, I will send them away, but you will tell me. Come now, at once. I mean what I say.”

Mary Kate knew that much very well. She looked first at one anxious face and then at another, wishing she knew what was best to do. It occurred to her then that with Douglas no doubt on his way at that very moment, they would all know the whole sorry business soon enough anyway. She shrugged, then said simply, “Kenneth Gillespie is behind that door yonder.”

In disbelief, her three guests stared at her, then turned as one to look at the antechamber door and back at her again, before all three in a chorus demanded immediate explanation.

She described the matter as clearly as she could without betraying Douglas completely, and when she had finished, Margaret and Ned both exclaimed their dismay, while Sir Patrick remained silent, thinking.

After a long moment, he smiled at Mary Kate. “It appears to me,” he said mildly, “that the most immediate problem is the disposal of Gillespie, regardless of whether he is dead or alive. That business will be a good deal simpler if he is alive, of course, so perhaps, young Lumsden, you will ascertain his present condition for us.”

Ned complied with alacrity, soon returning with the information that, although Gillespie was still unconscious, he was breathing normally.

“Then I have a plan,” Sir Patrick said. He appeared to Mary Kate to be more amused than dismayed. “It would be best, I think, if we were to remove the primary cause of Adam’s annoyance before his return, since it can serve no good purpose for him to kill Gillespie. Such an act would cause a scandal, and Jamie dislikes scandal.”

“But what about when Gillespie talks?” Mary Kate cried. “For I doubt that anything will stop him now. And I must tell you, sir, though I cannot explain the difficulty fully, that there is a certain amount of truth in what he will say. Adam’s life will be in danger.”

Sir Patrick became serious again, though he still did not seem overly concerned. “I know your husband like I know myself, my lady. Not only have we lived near each other all our lives, but I was at university with him, and I promise you by my faith as a borderer that whatever Gillespie knows, the telling will not endanger Adam’s life. I think you have been spun a fairy tale, but even if you have not, you will find your husband well able to take care of himself once he knows what the danger is against which he must guard himself. I counsel you to tell him all that Gillespie has told you. Do not leave out a single word, no matter how unpleasant the telling may be for you. I know it will be difficult, for I agree that he will be in a thundering temper when he arrives. But if you care for him, niggle not with your pride or your conscience. You must make him listen to you.”

If she cared? No one could know how much. But how, she wondered, could she make Adam listen? The doing sounded simple enough when Sir Patrick commanded it, but she knew it would not be simple at all.

Margaret understood her difficulty. “Good sir,” she said, smiling wryly at her husband, “pray tell us all just how Mary Kate is to
make
my brother listen to her. Since he has already suspected an improper relationship between her and that dreadful Gillespie person, he will be in a perfect frame of mind to believe every word his impetuous gillie chooses to prattle to him. I tell you here and now that there will be a wretched, long time passing before Mary Kate is able to make Adam do anything but shout at her, or worse. She must needs see him bound and gagged if she would make him listen!”