Amanda Scott (9 page)

The long hours of silent riding had given Adela time to think. Although she still took care not to think of his lordship by name even when that name floated near the surface of her mind, fearing still to anger him by speaking it aloud, she had recalled another detail about their meeting at Orkney. He had seemed then to ally himself with the Green Abbot of Iona, a fierce enemy of the Lord of the Isles.

For years, her sisters Cristina and Isobel had warned her that the abbot, once an ally of Macleod’s, was evil and a sworn enemy of Clan Gillean and the Lord of the Isles. Her captor was certainly wicked to have abducted her, but even after more than two days in his company, she had persuaded herself that he was not truly evil.

To be sure, he had struck her the first day without real cause. But she had not known then how angry an oblique response to a question could make him. She knew now that he expected honest, direct answers, that equivocation infuriated him. She had seen that more than once.

For the most part, he had been kind enough yesterday, and so far today. He had even allowed her privacy to relieve herself, although he did surround the area with his men each time, and had said he would kill her if she tried to escape.

He had made that threat so often that she had come to hope he used the words without thought or true intent to do harm. Still, his men were afraid of him, and she wanted to survive. If she remained calm and submitted to his will whenever she could, surely she could hold out until an opportunity arose for escape or rescue.

H
astily, Sorcha explained to Bess what had happened to Adela and their fear that no one was yet searching for her.

“We did hear about her wedding,” Bess admitted. “But was the man who took her no the one she hoped would marry her?”

“We all thought he was,” Sorcha said. “We did not learn that we were wrong until this morning, but my father says that is Adela’s fault. And mine,” she added conscientiously. “Sidony and I mean to find her, though, since no one else will, and you must help us, Bess. You simply must! It was you, after all, who told me that family counts more than anything else in this world.”

“I did,” Bess agreed. “Because it does.”

“Aye, and when my mother died, you said we had you and Father, and our sisters, plus the rest of our clansmen to look after us. But we lost you when Ranulf was injured. Then Mariota died and Cristina, Kate, and
Isobel all married and moved away. Only Maura still lives nearby. I don’t want to lose another sister.”

“Sakes, m’lady, I ken fine that ye must be worried about Lady Adela, but ye havena lost the others—only your mam and the lady Mariota, poor dearling.”

“Aye, but you know what I mean, Bess, and I mean to find Adela. You will help us, won’t you?”

“Just what d’ye think I can do? The very notion o’ three young lassies traveling about, thinking they can rescue another! That be plain daft.”

“Three?”

“Ye dinna think I’ll let the pair o’ ye go without ye take Una. Ye’ve better sense than that, Sorcha Macleod.”

“But we cannot travel as three young maidens,” Sorcha said. “I do know that. And Una, as buxom as she is, could never fool anyone into thinking she is a man. I mean for just Sidony and me to go. We’ll dress as lads. And we’ll need a real one to travel with us if you know someone who would be suitable.”

“And what do ye think ye’ll do if ye find her?” Bess demanded. “Ye can scarcely wield a sword or beat off her abductors wi’ your fists.”

“I’ve thought about that,” Sorcha assured her. “We’ll just follow them to see where they take her. We’ve heard they are riding to Edinburgh, for they passed through Kinlocheil. I do not know where that is, but we’ll find it, and when we do, discovering where they went next will be easy enough. Adela is pretty enough for people to notice her, and there cannot be many parties of four men and one woman.”

“There may be more than four men by now,” Sidony said thoughtfully.

“Aye, Lady Gowrie said there were twenty. Still, there will only be one Adela,” Sorcha pointed out. “Unless you think they are riding about the Highlands, collecting brides.”

“Faith, do you think they may be doing that?” Sidony demanded, blanching.

“No, goose, I do not.” She turned to Bess. “Will you help us?”

“I expect that if I refuse, ye’ll just go on your own,” Bess said. “But I dinna think ye should go as lads, mistress. Can ye no go as common women instead?”

Before Sorcha could think how to reply, Una said, “Only look at them, Mam. Common or noble, they’d draw too much notice, dress them how ye would. Lady Sorcha be right. They’ll travel safer as lads. But what’ll ye do about your hair?”

“When Isobel dressed as a lad, she just stuffed hers in a cap,” Sorcha said.

“Isobel wore lad’s clothes only the one time,” Sidony said. “And only long enough to cross the Kyle from Glenelg to Skye.”

“She did it more than once,” Sorcha said. “But you’re right, Sidony. To do it longer would prove more difficult. We’ll just have to cut our hair, that’s all.”

“Cut it?” Sidony stared at her. “How short?”

“Short enough to look like a lad’s, of course. You can just keep your head covered afterward until it grows out again,” she said. “You rarely let it hang loose, anyway, now that you are grown up.”

“Not as often as you do, at all events,” Sidony said. “Very well, I’ll do it, but it is most improper, Sorcha.”

“Abducting Adela was worse,” Sorcha said with more sharpness than usual. “So is Father’s refusal to go after her.”

“You know,” Sidony said, “I think he may have said that because he was angry with you. I don’t think he will really abandon her.”

“He already has,” Sorcha said. “Think, Siddy. In less than a sennight now, nearly every member of the Council of the Isles will go with his grace to Edinburgh, to the King’s court. Father won’t have time to hunt for missing daughters.”

Bess said quietly, “Ye’ve said ye mean to find where they’ve taken her ladyship, but ye didna say what ye think ye can do then.”

Sorcha sighed. “In truth, I have not thought carefully about that yet, but I do know that Sidony and I cannot easily rescue her ourselves. Mayhap it is a sign from heaven that my father and the others will be in Edinburgh. If the villains really do take Adela there, or even somewhere in the vicinity, and if we can find out exactly where they take her, I’m sure we can get help quickly.”

Bess shook her head. “ ’Tis plain daft, but I ken fine that ye mean to go, and ye’ll ha’ to keep safe. So ye’d best take along someone wi’ a good head on his shoulders, who’ll no let ye make fools o’ yourselves or do summat crazy dangerous.”

“We just need a stout lad who can look after our horses. Oh,” Sorcha added with a start. “We’ll also need horses!”

“Ye’ll need more than horses,” Bess said. “If the lady Adela’s abductors left Glenelg Saturday and reached Kinlocheil yesterday, they’re already more than two days ahead o’ ye. Sithee, Kinlocheil lies well south o’ here near Glen Finnan. To get so far, they must ha’ taken a boat from Glenelg to Ardnish or Loch Ailort.”

“Then, we’ll need a boat, too, will we not?” Sorcha said. “Can we get one?”

“Aye, and I’m thinking now that whichever track they take afterward, they do ha’ to go through the Great Glen,” Bess said. “If they’ve ridden through Kinlocheil, they’ll come to it a dozen miles or so north o’ the Narrows and Loch Linnhe.”

“But ye dinna go that way, Mam,” Una said. “Ye always stay at Shielfoot.”

“Aye,” Bess agreed, falling thoughtfully silent.

Una laughed and said, “Ye did think o’ many things, m’lady, but it be plain ye’ve no thought o’ everything. Where will ye sleep nights, and what will ye eat?”

“Faith, there must be friaries or nunneries along the way, or even a monastery that will take in travelers,” Sorcha said.

“Ye canna stay in a nunnery in men’s clothes,” Bess pointed out. “And most o’ them other places put women in one great room and men in another. I saw as much whenever I traveled wi’ your lady mother. So ye canna stay wi’ them neither.”

Sorcha muttered, “Then we’ll sleep on the ground and eat roots and berries.”

“We’ll do no such thing!” Sidony exclaimed.

Dryly, Bess said, “It would be gey wiser to stay wi’ kinsmen, as we do.”

“But we don’t know any kinsmen between here and the Great Glen who would not instantly restore us to Father,” Sorcha protested.

“I were thinking o’ Ranulf’s kinsmen, and me own,” Bess said. “If ye was to take our Rory as your gillie and boatman, he could see to all that for ye.”

“Aye, that be a good notion,” Una said. “Our Rory has a head, he does, and he’s been to the Great Glen twice, m’lady. He’ll keep ye safe.”

Sorcha remembered Rory MacIver only as a lad who had teased her, with small respect for her rank, but she was not about to cast obstructions in her own path, so she said, “Very well, but we must leave today, Bess, as soon as possible. I want to get as far as Kinlocheil, so we can learn where they went from there.”

“Well, ye can do that an ye will,” Bess said. “But if ye go by way o’ Loch Sunart and Glen Tarbert, ye can stay wi’ me brother at Shielfoot and save more than a day’s travel. The distance from here to Shielfoot be nearly the same as to Loch Ailort, but the distance to the Great Glen from Shielfoot be miles less.”

“Then why did Adela’s abductors not go that way?”

“Likely they didna ken the difference. Few who dinna live here do.”

Sidony said, “But what about Lady Gowrie, Sorcha? “Need we not follow the same route they did to find her and ask her to tell us everything she heard?”

“I’ll wager I heard all she knows,” Sorcha said. “She said a cousin told her. If he’d told her more, I’m sure she’d have repeated it to her friend. In any event, the way news flies around the Highlands, others are bound to know of them. We’ll do as Bess suggests,” she decided. “We’ll need clothes, though, Bess, and quickly.”

Bess agreed, and to Sorcha’s surprise, Rory MacIver, now a strapping young man of twenty-two with dark curls, brawny shoulders, and a cheerful smile, seemed as eager as she was to find Adela. It was he who provided their clothing, taking note of their sizes and deciding
exactly who might most likely both have and be willing to lend the required garments. The resulting clothing was tattered but clean, and Sidony regarded her share of it bleakly. But Sorcha received her brown leggings, long saffron shirt, quilted jerkin, stout boots, and hooded wool cloak with approval.

“I’ve thought of something else we need, though,” she said. “My sister Isobel always carried a small dirk in a sheath under her skirt. Can you find us each some such thing to put in our boots?”

“Aye, mistress, I warrant I could,” he said doubtfully.

Sidony said, “Oh, Sorcha, do you think we should? I doubt I could use a dirk. I do not even know how to wield one. Mightn’t I injure someone with one?”

Sorcha regarded her sister speculatively before she said with a rueful smile, “It occurs to me that by the time you made up your mind to use it, it would be too late to do any good. Just one will do, Rory.”

While Rory went to find her a weapon, Bess cut their hair, and while they donned their borrowed clothing, she packed a large supper to take and bundled their own clothing to carry with them in case they should need it. She tried to persuade them to stay at least overnight, but knowing that they had little time before Macleod learned what they had done, Sorcha insisted they leave as soon as possible.

To her amazement, when they were ready, Rory took them back to the beach, where a longboat waited, its bow on the shingle, with oarsmen ready to launch it.

“ ’Tis me brother’s,” Rory said. “He’s a captain for Lord Ranald, but he’s off wi’ another o’ his lordship’s boats to Ardtornish to join the grand flotilla for his
grace’s journey to Edinburgh. His men here must keep fit themselves, though, and they’ve agreed that a fast trip to Shielfoot and back will do them good.”

Thus, less than an hour after their arrival, Sorcha and Sidony departed. The oarsmen were powerful, the wind at their backs, and the boat relatively light. Three hours later, they landed. Before they sought Bess’s brother, Sorcha asked Rory if they could not acquire horses at once and keep going for at least a few more miles.

“We’ll no want horses yet, for tomorrow we’ll walk across yon ridge south o’ here to Loch Sunart,” he said. “I ha’ a cousin there wi’ a boat, who’ll take us to Strontian, at the head o’ the loch. If the wind be as strong as today, we’ll save more time by water and we can get horses from me cousin if the wind turns contrarisome.”

Impatient though she was, Sorcha saw nothing to do but agree, especially since Sidony looked exhausted.