The Rogues (5 page)

He tried to push me off and we rolled over, bumping up against the bed. He made to raise the bar, but I struck first, punching him right in the eye, and he dropped the iron rod in his agony. Then, throwing himself back, he kicked hard at my ribs. But I dodged him and jumped onto the bed, my fists raised.

“I'm ready this time,” I told him. “Ye'll not catch me by surprise again.”

Staggering, Rood clambered to his feet, clutching his bruised eye. “I'll beat ye to a jelly!” he thundered. But he had dropped his weapon and had to stand there looking around for it before he dared take me on.

“What is the meaning of this?” asked a quavering voice from the doorway.

I turned and saw Lady Elizabeth standing there with her knuckles pressed to pale lips.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Rood made a clumsy grab for me, but I jumped off the other side of the bed, landing close to the widow. My legs started to give way, and I grabbed onto the windowsill.

The lady took a fearful step back. “You're the boy Josie brought home,” she said.

“You might as well have loosed a wild beast in your midst,” Rood declared hoarsely.

The laird appeared at the widow's shoulder. “Rood?” he inquired. “Have ye come here on business?”

There was a false note to his question. Surely the widow could tell as clearly as I that the factor was here on the laird's orders, carrying out his bidding.

“I did,” Rood answered, struggling to compose himself. He straightened his coat, but his flushed face and heavy breath marked him as the guiltiest man I'd ever seen. “As ye asked, sir, to meet ye here. On … business.”

“He came here to rob ye, ma'am,” I cried. “And I caught him at it.”

The laird fixed his eye on me, a look that was like the sharp point of a dirk. “And who might
you
be?” he asked. His voice indicated that what I might be was some kind of midge, an insect to be squashed between his fingers or under the flat of his hand whenever he liked.

5 UNCLE AND NIECE

Before I could answer, urgent footfalls came racing up the hallway.

“Uncle Daniel!” an angry voice exclaimed. “I told you the last time you called on us—you are not welcome here. Father would not have treated his tenants the way you do. I speak for him who can no longer speak at all.”

The laird turned to face the door with a cold smile on his face. “You spoke only in the heat of the moment, Josephine, so I do not hold you to it.”

“You should,” Josie told him as she peered into the bedroom.

“I am only looking after your best interests,” the laird said. “Consorting with riffraff hardly befits you.”

“And speaking of riffraff, Uncle, who is this?” She came in and pointed to Rood. “You both must have slithered in under the jamb like a pair of snakes.”

“Now, Josephine, don't be speaking to your own kin in such a disrespectful fashion,” the laird said. It was clear even to me that he was trying to make his voice mild, to show the widow he was a reasonable man, but it sounded as hard as a standing stone. “I'm your father's own brother, after all. And your laird.”

“His half brother,” Josie reminded him as she stepped into the room. “And only half the man as well.”

McRoy turned to Josie's mother and put up his hands as if to say, “Can ye not see how outrageous she is?” It was a gesture I'd seen Ishbel make too often to my father to miss.

But Bonnie Josie ignored his protest. “You lived off my father's good heart and good name for far too long, Uncle, and now you run roughshod over his widow and daughter and expect gratitude? For shame, sir. For shame.”

“Miss Josephine,” Rood interrupted, “it's a good thing I came along when I did. I found this whelp trying to rob you.”

“Liar!” I couldn't get the word out fast enough.

Josie seemed to notice me for the first time. Putting her hands on her hips, she looked at me askance. “I am absent no more than an hour, and all manner of capers break out behind my back. What have you to say for yourself, Roddy Macallan?”

“It was him!” I said, pointing at Rood. “He was trying to force open that cabinet in the wall.”

“The position was quite the reverse.” Rood's voice was a low growl, and a fresh flush rushed to his cheeks. “He was looking for money, I'll wager. Had an iron bar with him. The boy's a common thief. I've warned you before about these people, Miss Josephine.”

“I doubt any common thief would go to such trouble,” said Josie. “To come into the dowager's house in broad daylight? And the boy certainly had no iron bar with him when I brought him here a few hours ago. Faith, he could scarcely stand up from the beating you gave him, Willie Rood. And even I would be hard put to find an iron pry bar around the house.” She glared at Rood. “But
someone
certainly came here with the pry in hand, and I think I can guess who that might be. Especially since this room and that safe is just where an uncommon thief might hope to find the deeds to this property.”

I stood there stunned. Clearly I had happened upon terrible acts without meaning to. What were these
deeds
Bonnie Josie spoke of? And why would Rood—or the laird—need to steal them? None of it made sense to me. I opened my mouth, then closed it again. As Cousin Ishbel liked to say, “An open mouth gathers flies. A closed mouth gathers secrets.”

Rood's nostrils flared. “Miss Josephine—you would take the word of this unwashed field mouse over mine?”

The widow's hand fluttered about like a moth seeking a flame, but Josie answered calmly, “This field mouse is a guest in this house.” She smiled slightly before adding, “Unlike you, whom I do not recall inviting.”

“I'll see him up before a judge,” said Rood. “I swear I will. We can let the law decide. And then we'll have the right of it.” But I noticed his right hand was trembling as he spoke.

“You'll have a hard time pressing charges against the boy when neither my mother nor I will have any part of it,” Josie warned.

Her mother nodded slightly.

Waving a hand in the air, as if to quiet everyone, the laird said, “This is a very vexing puzzle indeed, but so far as I can see, no great harm has been done to either party.”

Rood glowered his disagreement, but a hard look from the laird kept him silent. “Mister Rood, I am sure you have pressing business elsewhere on the estate.” His tone made it clear that this was an order.

Still furious, Rood stepped out of the room and stomped away toward the back door.

“There,” said the laird. “Now, let us retire to the parlor and discuss our business like gentlefolk.”

He turned and led them back to the front parlor, where he had been talking just minutes before with the widow. And though I doubted he meant to include me in “gentlefolk,” I was not about to leave Bonnie Josie and her mother alone with the man. He was dangerous. And—I feared—he meant them no good. But I went no farther than the parlor door, where I stood slightly in shadow.

Josie saw her mother seated once again on one of the cushioned chairs, then stood beside her, a hand on the widow's shoulder for comfort. Next to the chair was a shining wooden table with the thinnest legs I'd ever seen. A tray with a dainty cup and saucer and a teapot, of some white china, sat atop it.

“Get rid of this boy,” the laird said, waving at me as if once again shooing away a fly. He had remained standing and now folded his arms over his chest. Often Da stood the very same way when he was about to hand down punishments for Lachlan and me.

“He'll stay until I am satisfied he took no permanent harm at the hands of your henchman.” Josie's face looked set in stone.

“Rood's methods are simple, but his heart is in the right place,” said the laird. “It is you who are behaving unwisely, young lady, and guiding your poor mother to do the same.”

I bit my lip to keep from shouting out at him.

The laird ignored me and continued, “Surely you must see that all those people who have been legally evicted from the estate cannot be allowed to remain encamped around the Lodge. It gives them false hope. It keeps them from finding work and starting their lives anew.” Once again, his voice was gentle, but the intent beneath it was pure steel.

There was a flash of anger in Josie's eyes, and she answered him back steel for steel. “They needn't have had to start anew without your bully boys burning them out. At least with them camped here, it will be known throughout the Highlands that there's one corner of McRoy land where the old clan loyalties are not forgotten.”

The widow leaned back in her chair, as if shrinking from a pair of snarling dogs.

Raising his hands, the laird said, “You are upset, Josephine. I can see that. And your thinking is confused, as if you were one of them, a peasant, and not the daughter of a laird. It's what comes of having all these idle rascals on your doorstep, living off your goodwill. I'm done with all that.”

“Have done with kindness?” said Josie, with a shake of her head. “Have done with family and honor and loyalty? I cannot live that way, Uncle. I
will
not live that way.”

I would have lifted my cap to her then, had I been wearing one.

“It is like hearing your father again.” The laird gave her the sort of smile given a bairn when it says something amusing. “He could have been a rich man if not for his sentimentality about the clan.”

The widow raised her hand and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. She spoke low, as if she understood the argument but would not shout it out. “Thomas was rich enough, Daniel, just not in the way you mean. His treasure was the love of his people.”

The laird snorted and turned away from her to stare out of the window. It was an amazing window with a view over a great lawn of grass. All that grass and nothing pastured on it but squatters. I was amazed.

“For hundreds of years,” McRoy said, “that ignorant rabble has followed the laird just like sheep, so we might as well have sheep in their place and do without the inconvenience of the rabble's dirt and noise. This is a mercantile world we live in, my dear. It's time these Highland folk learned that.”

I could stand it no longer. Stepping forward from the doorway, I said, “Ye talk about people like they are animals and animals like they are people!” And then I shut my mouth again, my teeth hard against my bottom lip. I could not believe the sound of my own voice. And speaking out that way to the laird.
The laird
! It was as if the spirit of the clan had seized me and spoken through me.

“Bravo!” declared Josie. “I could not have said it better.”

The laird turned back and stared at me, rubbing his fingers on his sleeve as if wiping away a stain. “If you keep mixing with this sort, Josephine, you will become one of them in the end. I had higher hopes for you than that.”

“You had
hopes
for me?” Her face began to turn a sunrise color, and she put her hand again on her mother's shoulder, as if steadying herself.

“You are my niece. Of course I wish the best for you. Your dear mother cannot care for you much longer. It is long past time you made yourself a good match.”

“What? To one of your sheep farmers?”

The laird tapped his chin with a long forefinger. “You know that Mr. Rood plans to farm a part of the estate himself?”

Josie looked appalled. “You cannot
seriously
think I would consider marrying that man!”

“Seriously indeed,” said the laird. “Rood is an up-and-coming man, and while not of your station, my dear, he stands close to me. Marriage to my niece would raise him up. I count on him enormously. I suggest you take this proposal as seriously as I do. Life here could get very uncomfortable if I put my mind to it, and your dear mother is in such precarious health.”

I clenched my fists and stood aside.
What would Lachlan do
? I wondered. And then I knew. I opened my mouth to tell the laird what I thought of him, but Josie darted me a warning glance. It was a clear signal to keep quiet. Or as Cousin Ishbel would say, “Keep yer breath to cool yer porridge.”

“I think you'd best go now, Uncle,” Bonnie Josie said, “before your tongue carries you any further along that path. This house is still ours by law. We do not have to listen to such … such threats while we still have possession of it.”

The laird made a small bow in the widow's direction and headed for the door. Pausing for a moment, he turned. “Think hard on what I have said, Josephine. Times are changing, and if you are not part of the change, you will be crushed by it as it rolls over you.”

When he was gone, Josie swung a fist in the air and let out an exasperated noise between her teeth. “I'd like to challenge that man to a duel and shoot him through the heart!”

“It would be too small a target,” I said. Surely Cousin Ishbel wouldn't mind my saying that.

Josie laughed uproariously, like a man, not a young woman, and her face got as flame red as her hair. “I suppose it would.”

“I'll fight him if ye ask me,” I said, swelled up with my courage and her laughter.

Josie stopped laughing and looked at me. “I think you've fought enough battles for one day, young Roddy. Are you steady on your feet now?”

“I am indeed,” I told her, lifting my feet one after another to show her, though I wasn't entirely sure. “Da always says that a good fight works wonders for any Highlander. ‘Stirs the blood and stirs the stumps,' he says.”

She smiled at that.

“But,” I continued, “if it be none of my business, I will nae ask again. What was Rood up to anyway? Why did he come to rob ye? And in daylight. And with the laird's permission?”

“It's no secret,” Bonnie Josie said. “With your bruises you have won the right to ask.” She looked over at her mother, who nodded in agreement. “Under the normal law of inheritance,” Josie explained, “if a laird dies without a son, the estate passes to his brother.”