A Rough Wooing (4 page)

“These will suffice.” Greystoke wrote the
names on the arrest warrants. Then he removed the noose from
Armstrong’s neck and escorted him to one of the innumerable cells
in the bowels of Carlisle Castle.

When he returned to the hall, Cumberland
hailed him. “We’ve a dozen Maxwells to interrogate about a raid on
Penrith. I think we’ve got the ring leaders. Will you sit in
judgment with me, Lance?”

“I was on my way to Castle Elliot to arrest
four brothers who raided Beaumont and stole my horses, but I
warrant tomorrow will suffice.”

“The wily bastards will have flown the coop
by then. Send your troopers and I’ll have some of my men join
them.”

Greystoke nodded, and handed the warrants to
one of his trusted moss-troopers.

~~~

“Where the devil do you think yer going in
leather breeches?” Gavin Elliot demanded.

Douglas shrugged a shoulder. “They’re much
easier to ride in than skirts.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. Yer very
secretive these days.”

“Rubbish!” She smoothed the plaits she had
pinned into a coronet. “I don’t know what you’re talking
about.”

“I’m talking about the letter you got from
Mother. If yer going to join her at Court, you won’t be able to
cavort about in breeches.”

“Damn you to hellfire, Gavin Elliot! How dare
you read my letter?”

“We’ll have no secrets from each other.”

“In that case, you can tell me how much you
got for the thoroughbreds.”

“What thoroughbreds?”

Douglas laughed. “Now who’s being secretive?
If I do decide to go to Court, I’ll need some of that money you got
for an elegant new wardrobe.”

Gavin winked. “Come to think of it, you
should wear breeches more often. They cost less than fancy frocks,
and they’re ideal if you plan on helping with the lambing.”

Douglas pulled on a warm doublet. “I’m just
going to have a look at the new lambs now. Then I’ll ride along the
river before the afternoon sun is gone. The banks of the Esk are
thick with blue forget-me-nots.”

Rob Elliot came clattering down the stone
steps that led from the castle ramparts.

“Riders! Two dozen!”

Before his warning was out, they heard the
thunder of hooves in the castle bailey.

“Christ, you should have spotted them
half-an-hour back.” Gavin strode to the window. “English! I
recognize Cumberland’s livery.”

“God Almighty, what’ll we do?” Rob cried.

“Keep yer gob shut,” Gavin ordered.

A servant came into the castle hall with two
dozen troopers behind him. Without hesitation Gavin spoke to the
trooper who looked to be in charge. “Afternoon, gentlemen. You have
business at Castle Elliot?”

“We have arrest warrants for the Elliot
brothers.” Greystoke’s lieutenant brandished a fistful of
papers.

“On what charges?” Gavin demanded.

“Raiding English horses and selling them in
Langholm.”

Gavin squared his jaw. “Where’s yer
proof?”

“Sim Armstrong sold you out. We have him
under arrest in Carlisle Castle. I have warrants here for four
Elliot brothers.”

“You are mistaken. Armstrong is lying. There
are only
three
Elliot brothers.”

“All Scots lie, so save your breath. I have
warrants for Gavin, Jock, Rob, and Douglas.”

“I am Douglas Elliot.” She stepped forward
and raised her chin.

The lieutenant’s eyes narrowed. “Lying won’t
save your brother Douglas.”

“We have no brother by that name,” Gavin
declared. “Douglas is our sister. Are ye accusing her of raiding
English horses? On the word of a
firking
Armstrong?”

“I have a warrant for Douglas Elliot. It
matters not if he’s male or female. Arrest the girl,” he ordered
his men.

Douglas brandished her riding crop and they
hesitated. “Strange as well that you have an arrest warrant for
Jock Elliot. My brother Jock happens to be with King James. He’ll
have your head for this!”

The lieutenant snorted. “I was born at night,
but not
last bloody night.”
He turned to the servant. “Where
is Jock Elliot?”

“Laird Jock is in Edinburgh.”

“With the king, no doubt,” the lieutenant
sneered. “Which of you is Gavin Elliot?”

“I am.”

“And I’m Rob Elliot,” the youngest said with
bravado.

“Arrest all three.” Greystoke’s lieutenant
watched stony-eyed as the troopers bound their prisoners wrists
with leather thongs. Then he directed some of Cumberland’s troopers
to make a cursory search of the castle to see if they could turn up
Jock Elliot.

After half-an-hour he called off the search,
and they took their prisoners down to the bailey. “The light is
fading fast. It’ll be dark before we get back.”

“Let my sister go. She has nothing to do with
this.” Gavin tried to shame him. “It’s cowardly to arrest a
woman.”

The lieutenant struck Gavin across the face,
and Douglas spat, “It’s also cowardly to strike a bound man. But I
don’t expect much from an Englishman, and I’m sure I won’t be
disappointed.”

The lieutenant ignored the insult. He told
two of his men to take up the Elliot brothers to ride pillion.
“I’ll take the girl.”

Douglas glared daggers at him. “I’d rather
ride my own mount.”

“Not likely. You’d be off like the wind,
given half a chance.” He mounted his horse and took her up behind
him.

Douglas wished she still had the knife in her
boot.
I swear I’d use the bloody thing!

She knew she had never been as angry in her
life. But anger was a good thing; it kept her fear at bay as the
troopers rode relentlessly toward Carlisle Castle. By the time they
crossed the Border into England, it was dark, and a bone-chilling
terror crept over her. But Douglas swore she would rather die than
let these men know she was afraid.

When the lieutenant drew rein outside the
vast castle stables, Douglas jumped to the flagstones before he
could dismount. There was no way she would allow him the
satisfaction of lifting her down.

The troopers surrounded their three prisoners
and escorted them into the castle. The Great Hall, ablaze with
torches, was crowded with men. At the far end, trestle tables were
filled with liveried moss-troopers eating the evening meal.

Though Douglas hadn’t eaten, the smell of
food, mingled with tallow, smoke, and male sweat killed her
appetite and made her pinch her nostrils. Dressed as she was in
leather doublet and breeches, she was relieved that few men in the
hall realized she was a female.

“Wait here,” the lieutenant told his
companions.

Douglas watched him as he made his way down
the hall to report to his commander. She had assumed he was one of
Cumberland’s men, but now as she stared at the tall male he
approached, she realized how wrong she had been.

Sir Lancelot Greystoke turned his head and
gazed across the hall. Their eyes met and held in a long moment of
shocked recognition. Then they both quickly looked away.

“Why did you arrest a woman?” Greystoke
demanded.

“She insists that she is Douglas Elliot, my
lord. We arrested Gavin and Rob Elliot, but Jock was nowhere to be
found.” He handed the warrants to Greystoke.

“Lock the men up with Sim Armstrong. The girl
presents a bit of a problem.” Greystoke rapidly searched his mind.
“Lock her in one of the storerooms next to the kitchens, and bring
me the key.”

He decided not to interrogate the Elliot
brothers for the time being. A few days of being totally ignored
often proved fruitful. He collected the storeroom key from his
lieutenant and told the men to eat while the Carlisle servants were
still serving dinner.

Greystoke had been stunned when he saw the
beautiful red-haired female across the Great Hall. Then he felt
shock to realize she had been taken prisoner. She had insinuated
herself into his thoughts more often than he cared to admit.

Douglas Elliot! The name suits the proud
firebrand.
Not for a minute did he think she had taken part in
the raid, but she was certainly guilty of telling her brothers
about his prize thoroughbreds.
My instinct told me she was a
Scot, and yet I never once connected her with the theft of my
horses.

~~~

Douglas heard the key turn in the lock on the
heavy door.
I should have known the moss-troopers had been sent
by Greystoke when the charge was stealing English horses. How
strange that I never made the connection.
She examined her
surroundings and saw by the rush light in the wall bracket that she
was in a storeroom. She was greatly relieved that she hadn’t been
imprisoned with rough men, but her fear had not vanished. As well
as apprehension for herself, she was racked with worry about the
fate of her brothers. Her stomach seemed to be in knots and she
feared she might vomit. She found a small wooden bucket, just in
case, and realized she might need it for other bodily
functions.

The small rush light flickered and she knew
she had better search for things she might need while there was
still a glimmer of illumination. It would help keep her panic at
bay. She found a cask of cider, cupped her hand and turned the
spigot. Then she lapped up the liquid to quench her thirst.

Guided by her nose, she found a basket of
turnips, and a container of dried damsons. She put a handful of the
dried fruit in her pocket, then looked about for a place to sit.
Trepidation was turning her knees to wet linen. She ran her hands
over some large burlap sacks that stood against the wall, and found
one that she thought held barley. She sank to the floor and leaned
gratefully against the cushiony sack. Within minutes the rush light
flickered out, and left her in complete darkness.

I’m not afraid of the dark
, she told
herself fiercely. Then she mocked:
There’s no need for bravado,
there’s no one here to deceive other than myself.

~~~

Douglas Elliot’s eyes flew open, but she saw
nothing in the pitch black darkness. She had thought herself too
tense to sleep, and yet she realized a noise had awakened her. Then
she heard the door creak open and her heart began to pound. She
shrank back against the wall and tried to stop herself from
trembling.
Who is it? What do they want with me?

“Come.” The voice was low and compelling.

Douglas knew who it was immediately. She sat
absolutely still for the count of ten heartbeats, then she got to
her feet and walked slowly toward the voice. She raised her hands
before her until they were touching a leather-clad chest.
“What—?”

“Hush!” Greystoke took her hand and led her
from the storeroom into a dimly lit passage.

Douglas had no idea where he was taking her,
but they seemed to be going away from the kitchens, deeper into the
bowels of the ancient castle. He moved silently, like a wary
predator in the forest, and she followed him quietly, hardly daring
to breathe. She noticed a faint glimmer of light and as they moved
toward it she saw it was coming from a wall bracket beside a
heavily studded door.

She heard Greystoke speak low to the guard
who unlocked the door with a huge iron key, and suddenly they were
outside the castle. Douglas glanced up, saw the stars, and
reassured herself that she wasn’t dreaming. In unison they made
their way across the flagstone yard toward the vast stables.

“Wait here.” Greystoke’s tone expected her to
obey him. He dropped her hand and strode into the stables.

Douglas wanted to run. Here was a chance to
escape, and yet she hesitated. She was conflicted. Part of her
wanted to put her trust in the English noble, in spite of an inner
voice that reminded her that she had been arrested on Greystoke’s
orders. How can I flee without a horse? Finally, she decided to
have faith in her instincts.

She could hear the thudding of her heart in
her ears, as the dark rider approached and reached down his arm.
She put her hand in his and he hoisted her up before him.

“Your hands are freezing.” He turned her
toward him. “Put them inside my doublet.”

Douglas did as he bade her, and was amazed at
his body heat.

It did not take long for Greystoke’s powerful
horse to cover the four miles to Beaumont Hall. With the enchanting
female between his thighs, the ride wasn’t nearly long enough, if
he were being truthful. He rode into the stable, dismounted and
lifted his captive down. Usually he tended his own mount, but when
a stableman roused and came forward, he handed him the reins. He
knew his companion was shivering and he wanted to get her inside,
where the heat from the fires would warm her. When he saw the
stableman’s questioning gaze slide over the redhead, he was
annoyed.
Keep your eyes to yourself, man.

He opened the door and motioned for her to go
before him. She glanced up at the tall case clock in the entrance
hall and saw that it was only a few minutes past midnight. Time
felt like it had stood still while she was imprisoned in the
storeroom. He led her to the large stone hearth, and though the
fire had burned low, it still gave off some welcome heat.

As Douglas held her hands out to the warmth,
she watched Greystoke throw off his leather jack, then reach out to
take hers. When he removed it, she began to shiver.

“I know what you need.” Greystoke moved
across the room, poured something into a glass and brought it to
her. “Brandy. Drink up.” His dark eyes watched her closely as she
sipped the fiery liquor.

Her thoughts darted like quicksilver.
I’m
still his prisoner. Can I persuade him to release me?
Douglas
counted the things she could use as a bribe. The list was a short
one. She had her body and she had her wits. One thing she knew
instinctively: if a female took the defensive role, a male would
keep her there. She summoned her bravado, and decided to act as if
they were equals. The brandy was strong and she cautioned herself
to sip it slowly so she wouldn’t choke and cough.