Amanda Scott (43 page)

He had no idea what Waldron had planned. So, although he had done all he could to ensure her safety, and had received no word yet to indicate that a trap awaited her, he could not be sure he had done enough.

At least he had talked with Macleod. And, although he had accurately reported what that gentleman had said, they had talked of much more. And, if what Macleod had said proved true, he had a chance to regain control of his own affairs again. If so, it would be worth whatever it took, but only if his lass could come through it all safely.

Finding the cart track easily, Sorcha resigned herself to the palfrey’s pace, telling herself that Hugo and his men needed time to get to Edgelaw. Einar Logan had to be able to keep up with her, too, although she had seen no sign of him. Only once did she think she caught movement in the shrubbery, but try as she did, she saw no other indication that any watchers of Hugo’s, or of Waldron’s, lurked nearby.

The woodland through which she passed was dense and green. The day was clear, and sunbeams spilled through the canopy, glinting off diamondlike drops of dew on ferns and shrubbery. Birds chirped and squirrels chattered, but her ride was otherwise silent and not much faster than if she had walked.

She came to the rise at last, and saw the peel tower, looking like a tall standing stone in a clear space a short distance from the bottom of the hill. The castle loomed large beyond it in a great, grassy clearing with a frothy river flowing through it that she knew was not the river North Esk. Not only had she followed the Esk through the glen until the cart track turned uphill away from it, but in the moonlight with Hugo on Roslin’s ramparts she had seen clearly that the Esk approached the castle from hills in the west, then looped around it to flow northward toward the Firth of Forth.

Coming from nearby shrubbery on her right, Einar Logan’s voice startled her. “Dinna look this way, me lady,” he warned. “Ride on down the track to yon tower now. But dinna get off the horse, nae matter what the lady Adela says to ye. She can climb on ahind ye gey easily from the tower steps or from some rock, but dinna get down—nae for any reason. And when she climbs on, turn
the beast about and kick it hard. It’ll bring ye back here at a good pace an ye do that.”

When he said no more, she urged the palfrey on, watching the peel tower warily for signs of life. She saw none, nor any sign of Adela, even when she neared the clearing where the tower stood. She had a direct view of the arched, iron-banded door at its base. But not until she drew rein at the clearing’s edge did the door open.

Adela stepped outside. Still wearing her bedraggled blue wedding dress with some sort of dark cloak flung over it, she silently motioned Sorcha nearer.

Increasingly wary, Sorcha glanced about her, knowing that Waldron could have set men in trees all around them. But she sensed no other presence, only Adela’s. Wondering if she was being wise to trust her own senses, she gathered her courage and urged the palfrey to the shallow steps.

Adela stood there, unmoving, watching her wide-eyed. “You came,” she said when Sorcha and the palfrey were right in front of her. “I did not think you would.”

“Aye, sure, I came,” Sorcha said as she turned the palfrey, which seemed to know exactly what she wanted of it. “Climb on. We’ll soon be away from here.”

Adela looked around as if she expected someone to stop them, but no one appeared. “This seems so strange,” she said. “I have been captive such a long time that I don’t feel like myself at all. Your being here with me simply does not seem possible. His letting me go seems even less so.”

“Don’t stand chattering,” Sorcha said impatiently. “If you cannot climb on from there, we need to find something else for you to stand on.”

“You are smaller and lighter than I am,” Adela said. “Get down and help me up. Then I can pull you up.”

“You must mount by yourself, Adela. I’ll help you all I can, but I will not get off this horse. Not here. Where is Waldron?”

“He said he’d be in the castle. Sir Hugo is coming to try to make him appear before the countess. She is angry with him. Did I not tell you that in my message?”

“We can talk as we ride, so hurry! What if he comes after us?”

“He won’t. He said he was letting me go. He had a sign from God telling him to set me free, he said, because he had punished me enough. But I do not think we can trust him. Indeed, I still do not know what I did to deserve such punishment.”

Sorcha did not want to imagine how he might have punished her. She said more curtly than before, “Get on the horse, Adela. Now.”

At last, Adela moved to mount the palfrey, and it proved easier than Sorcha had expected, for the animal stood as steadily as if it were made of wood. As she kicked its sides she felt a prickling sensation, as if someone were watching them.

She told herself it was no more than her own nerves reacting, but she eased the whistle from her bodice lacing, where she had tucked it after Hugo had given it to her. And she kept it in her hand as she kicked the palfrey harder. It began to move faster than she had expected, back along the track and up the hill.

The prickling sense of being watched did not desist.

Hugo and his men had arrived at the barred gates of Edgelaw thirty minutes before. But although he had shouted, demanding entrance, the response so far had been no more than a voice from behind the hoarding at the top of the left-hand gate tower, shouting back, “Aye, sir. I’ll send a man t’ tell the master!”

Knowing Waldron would like nothing better than to stir his impatience, Hugo steeled himself to reveal none. But his ears were on the prick for the slightest sound of a whistle from the west, where Sorcha should be meeting Adela at any moment, if Adela showed up.

After the first ten minutes, he had signed to two men to circle the castle. He also kept a wary eye out for archers above, but all seemed quiet enough.

Like most of his men, he wore a leather jack-of-plate, thick leather breeks and boots, and a helmet. The only thing to distinguish him from the others was the lad beside him bearing the Sinclair banner, and the fact that his own helmet was black and bore the white lion device of Dunclathy.

His father and Michael had donned similar leather garments and carried similar black helmets. Having ridden with the men, they waited with them now. And from a distance both looked enough like Hugo to be indistinguishable from him.

The voice from the hoarding shouted, “The master does say he be presently occupied wi’ important business. He’ll see ye in half an hour.”

“Tell your master that, by the countess Isabella’s command, if the gates of Edgelaw do not open to me forthwith, or if the lord Waldron fails to appear before her today, his tenancy here will end,” Hugo shouted. “All
within its walls will face charges of trespass and a hanging just as soon as she finds it convenient.”

“I hear ye, sir! I’ll take his lordship that message for ye.”

Hugo prepared himself for another struggle with his patience.

Another horse moved up to a position just behind his, and Michael said quietly, “Do we know absolutely that he is here?”

Hugo grimaced. Without turning his head or moving his lips more than necessary, he muttered, “None of our lads saw him leave. That’s all I know.”

Michael was silent, but he and Hugo had no need of words to communicate. When the two men Hugo had sent round the castle returned to report no sign of siege preparations or any more activity than usual on the ramparts, Hugo did not need Michael’s audible grunt of irritation to tell him that Waldron had most likely slipped away. The question foremost in his mind then was how many men he had managed to take with him and to what exact purpose.

His thoughts raced. He’d had men watching the castle and the area around it from the ridge above Roslin Glen since shortly after the countess had made her decision. But his cousin was as adept at concealing himself in darkness as Michael was, which was to say the man moved like a ghost. No army could have slipped out unnoticed, however, nor had Hugo’s men seen any sign of a large force at Edgelaw. At most only two or three of Waldron’s most skilled followers were with him.

Making his decision, he said quietly to Michael, “I
think he’s gone. But if he has any of his army left, they are inside those walls, waiting for us. It’s time.”

“Aye,” Michael said. “Let’s move.”

Sorcha’s skin prickled now almost as if she had a fever.

Clinging tightly to her, Adela said, “Where are we going?”

“To Roslin. Isobel is there with her babe.”

“Faith, I don’t want to see her! How can I face any of them?”

“You will be fine,” Sorcha said, forcing herself to add, “Sir Hugo means to make it all right, Adela. I know you love him, and he has told Father that he wants to marry you. No one can say anything then but that you are his honored wife.”

“Hugo would do that? After all this?” She sounded stunned.

“Aye,” Sorcha said. “He is sorry he neglected to tell us he could not set aside his vow to Ranald to support Donald’s claim to the Lordship. Had he told us, no one would have thought it was he who rode off with you.”

“Is that why he did not come?”

“It is, and had we known, Father and Ardelve, and all the other men, would have ridden after you and rescued you straightaway.”

“I am not so sure they could have,” Adela said. “But ’tis kind of Sir Hugo.”

Sorcha wanted to say that it was not kind of him at all, that it was no more than a matter of his duty. But she
could not bring herself to say that, because Adela loved him and she would not spoil that. Sacrificing her own happiness to restore Adela’s reputation was but a…

The thought failed her, and she wondered abruptly where Einar was.

“I don’t like this place,” Adela said. “These woods feel haunted.”

“Hush,” Sorcha said, slowing the palfrey to its customary pace. She did not want to call Einar’s name, because Adela was right. It felt as if watchers lurked everywhere, although she still saw no one.

Surely, unless Einar were dead, he would soon give them some direction.

The thought of him dead made her shiver, but she forced herself to keep her eyes moving, searching the trees ahead, watching for the slightest sign of trouble.

She wished the palfrey would go faster, but she did not want it to outrun Einar. She was also afraid that after pushing it up the hill, to push it farther might result in its refusing to go at all. The thought struck then that Hugo must have had good reason, beyond simply wanting time for himself and his men to reach Edgelaw, for choosing the beast for her. She tried to relax.

Adela gave a muffled shriek. “There’s a man in those bushes!”

“Ride on, mistress,” Einar muttered just loudly enough for Sorcha to hear him. “ ’Tis only me. I’m following ahind ye, but ha’ a care, and if aught happens, stay on the palfrey and cling tight unless I tell ye to dismount.”

Relief flooded through her at the sound of his voice, and she nodded. She felt safe enough doing so, believing any watcher would think Adela had spoken to her.

They had ridden but twenty yards farther when a man darted from the bushes ahead and snatched at the palfrey’s reins. To Sorcha’s astonishment, the horse reared, viciously slashing the air with both front hooves. And when the man darted sideways away from it, it dropped its front hooves, whipped around, and kicked with both hind feet together, knocking the villain flat on his back.