Amanda Scott (30 page)

“Where is this letter?”

“In my bags somewhere. I’ll give it to you straightaway.”

Duncan grunted. He was not eager to read what his cousin had written. Rory Campbell, as a baron of the Scottish Court of the Exchequer, had never been one to hide his opinions or couch them in tactful phrases. Moreover, he liked Mary.

They reached the room allotted to Neil, and waited for him to fetch the letter. Then, leaving him, Duncan and Mary turned toward her room.

“I want to fetch my shawl, sir,” she said, reaching for the latch. “I will join you downstairs in the saloon.”

He let her open the door, but when she stepped inside, he followed her. She moved back quickly, looking momentarily surprised and then resigned.

He shut the door, aware by her changing expression that she had been tempted to tell him he should not be there. But although he waited, she remained silent. The wary look returned to her eyes.

“You have not moved to a room nearer to mine,” he said.

“No, I saw no real need, and I like this room. Please, Duncan, I hope you—”

“I know you did not meet Breck,” he said bluntly.

“Well, I hope, as well, that you don’t really think it was Serena dressed in my cloak,” she said. “I cannot believe she would do such a thing. In any case, whom would she meet? She cannot know anyone hereabouts.”

“I don’t know the answer to that,” he said. “I don’t even much care, because I do believe her primary interest was to cause trouble for you. No doubt she cajoled one of the herds or some other poor chap into helping her. We know she is not happy with our marriage, and that she thinks only of herself. Now that we know what she is capable of doing, she can do no harm. We will do better to ignore her.”

“Is that what you wanted to tell me, sir?”

“No,” he said, reaching for her and drawing her into his arms. “I wanted to tell you that I missed you, lass. When I realized that MacCrichton was not at Shian Towers, I had the most horrid fear that he had raided Dunraven merely to draw me away from Balcardane.”

“You think it was Ewan who led that raid?”

“Aye, although we cannot be certain,” he said, describing briefly what little they did know, and assuring her that the damage would all be repaired. “The garrison at Castle Stalker is not far away, and Patrick Campbell is a distant cousin of mine, as you may know,” he said, “so when he received word of the attack, he lost no time in getting to Dunraven. He agrees with me not only that that MacCrichton is the most likely one to have led it but that he and Allan Breck might have sufficient cause to have joined forces against me.”

Mary frowned. “That is so, I suppose. Bardie told me that Allan stayed for a short time at Maclean House, and Ewan said once that Allan had told him about my gift. I don’t see how that helps us though. Allan has eluded capture for years.”

“Aye, and that brings me to the other matter I wanted to discuss with you,” he said. His arms encircled her loosely, and he resisted the urge to tighten them. He wanted to kiss her, to taste her lips and test her response to him, but although she felt relaxed in his embrace, he did not want to frighten her.

She looked puzzled.

“When you look like that, I want to kiss you,” he said without thinking.

She smiled. “It is your right, sir. You may.”

He did, and she responded hesitantly at first, but he was gentle, his lips coaxing hers. He felt his body stir.

Easing his hold on her, he said, “We had better stop, lassie, if we are going to join the others for dinner. We’ll continue this later.”

“Very well,” she said with a smile, “but what was it you wanted to discuss?”

“It’s not really for discussion,” he said with a sigh. “MacCrichton is up to something, and Allan Breck’s being in the area and in a string with him does not make me happy either. You just remember to stay inside the castle walls. You are not to go outside them for any reason. Do you understand me, Mary?”

“Aye, sir,” she said, making a face at him.

He kissed her again then, and hurried off to change for dinner. Afterward, however, when Mary bore Lady Balcardane away to put her to bed, Duncan remained with his father to entertain Neil and Patrick. The four men talked and drank whisky until one of them suggested a few hands of cards. By the time they decided at last to retire, half the night had disappeared.

Going straight to Mary’s bedchamber when he parted from the other men, he was astonished to find the room empty. He looked for her in his own room, and then, on a hunch, in his mother’s. There he found Lady Balcardane sleeping fitfully with Sarah hovering in attendance and Mary curled up in a chair, sound asleep.

Sarah moved silently to meet him, murmuring, “The poor lamb just fell asleep, sir. The mistress has been ailing for three days now, but this is the worst.”

“Can you manage without Mary?”

“Aye, sure, sir, and she’s given me things to help when the mistress wakens.”

Duncan picked Mary up in his arms, and as she rested her head against his shoulder, murmuring in her sleep like a child, he felt a sense of protectiveness—or some other, more unfamiliar feeling—the strength of which he had never known before. When her eyelids fluttered, he said, “Sleep, lass. I’m putting you to bed.”

He did not ring for Ailis, nor did he attempt to undress Mary, knowing he would waken her and certain she needed to sleep. He put her to bed in her clothes, smiling when she scarcely stirred except to snuggle into her pillow. He did take time, however, to light a candle at the fire, find paper and ink, and to leave her a message, telling her that he would leave for Fort William at first light, riding as far as the Ballachulish ferry with Patrick and the men from Stalker.

Duncan explained that he had learned the man he had sent to Fort William to present their marriage lines to the court had not yet returned. Though his tardiness was undoubtedly due to the bad weather, and Duncan fully expected to meet him along the way, he had decided to ride all the way to Fort William himself, if necessary, to make certain all was in order with the magistrate. He would return as soon as he could. Adding a postscript, reminding her yet again that she was not to leave the castle, he glanced wistfully at the sleeping figure, then snuffed the candle and went straight to his own room, and to his solitary bed.

A
ILIS, BRINGING MARY’S CHOCOLATE
later than usual the next morning, found Duncan’s note and handed it to her mistress when she awakened her.

Reading swiftly, Mary looked up and said, “Have they gone, Ailis?”

“Aye, mistress, at dawn. Master Duncan said no tae wake ye till now.”

Settling back against her pillows, trying to ignore a surge of disappointment, Mary read the note again, smiling a little at the reminder to stay inside the wall. She did understand his concern for her safety, and she truly meant to obey his order. Indeed, she had obeyed it since the day he first had issued it.

Downstairs, she found Balcardane, Serena, and Neil already enjoying their breakfast. For once Serena, clearly determined to beguile a resistant Neil, seemed perfectly amiable, exerting herself to be pleasant to everyone. She was bright, cheerful, and sweet-tempered while the gentlemen were at hand; and, when they had excused themselves, she seemed more interested in plying Mary with questions about Neil than plaguing her with the barbed comments she had favored before.

When Mary had finished, she left Serena to her own devices and went to look in on Lady Balcardane, finding her awake and sitting up, looking better than she had the night before. Nonetheless, Mary knew her appearance was deceiving.

Sarah agreed. Looking as fresh herself as if she had enjoyed a full night’s rest, the woman took Mary aside and said, “I do not know how to keep her in bed, ma’am. Seems as if she always feels better when she gets up, but she is so tired, she does not think straight, and this morning the fever is still with her and she complains of a sore throat. She never sleeps in daylight, ma’am, and I warrant she won’t sleep again the night. She’s ever so much weaker. You can see that much for yourself.”

“Aye, I do,” Mary agreed. “She needs to sleep.” Though she greeted Lady Balcardane cheerfully, the woman’s flushed cheeks and feverish gaze distressed her.

The cold that had plagued many of the castle inhabitants had hit her ladyship hard. The poor woman had been fighting it for days now, sitting bundled by the fire in the saloon or in her own little sitting room to keep warm, with her tambour frame and needle to occupy her hands. She loathed isolation, however, and strongly, felt her duty to oversee her dinner table despite a fever that eased during the morning hours only to spike again each afternoon. Although Mary had brewed more than one tisane of angelica with lemon and honey to comfort her, the cold had clearly grown much worse. Her ladyship’s cough was now hacking and deep.

At the first sign of that cough, Mary had given her coltsfoot and treacle lozenges brought from Maclean House, but the stubborn cough persisted. She knew more drastic remedies were necessary.

She had brought the coltsfoot and angelica with her, and the latter, in particular, was always good for a feverish cold. A gorse toddy would have been more effective, but it required fresh flowers, and gorse did not bloom in winter. There were other powerful remedies, however, and remembering the celandine, nettles, and dandelions she had seen during her walk by the loch with Duncan, she decided at once what she would do.

Had Duncan been at hand, she told herself, she would have explained her plan and enlisted his support. He was hot there, however; and when she looked for Neil, she learned that he, the earl, and a number of the other men had taken advantage of a break in the weather to go hunting, hoping to augment the castle’s depleted stores with some grouse or moor hens.

Since Duncan had taken his usual escort with him, the castle guard was thus greatly reduced, and Mary decided that gave her sufficient reason not to ask any of the men to go with her. She did not consider asking Serena, nor did she want to send a servant to collect what she required, for she knew it would be nearly impossible to describe the location of the plants and she trusted no one else to gather exactly what she needed in any case.

When she realized that in fact she wanted to go by herself, that she missed the solitude she frequently had enjoyed at Maclean House, she wrestled a little with her conscience, but in the end, she decided to go alone, reassuring herself that it was a matter of judgment rather than disobedience. She would be away just a short time, to walk to where the burn entered the loch, and she would remain within sight of the guards at the main gate and atop the battlements. She had no intention of discussing her plan with Jock or anyone else, however. To do so would only lead to argument.

She knew that even the early-blooming celandine would not bloom for another two months, but it was an excellent time to gather rootstock and stems, and the roots, ground up and added to a nourishing nettle or cress soup, would provide a soporific effect that would help her ladyship rest more comfortably. Watercress grew year round, of course, and she knew she would find some near the burn.

With her hood up and her basket in hand, it proved easy enough to slip out through the postern gate. She had feared Duncan might have posted a guard there after the previous day’s events, but if he had, the man had stepped away. No one tried to stop her, and she was not surprised after that when no one called her back. Her cloak, after all, had been outside only the day before. Gathering it around her, she hurried toward the loch, taking a side path that she knew would lead her to the burn where she had seen the plants with Duncan.

Woods and dense shrubbery lined the course of the brook as it tumbled down the hillside. Knowing that the cress generally grew at the water’s edge, she pushed through this shady barrier and soon found a good patch. Picking enough watercress to make a good soup, she turned toward the spot where she had seen the nettles and celandine. A sudden cracking sound from behind startled her, and she whirled to find herself confronting Ewan MacCrichton.

He said, “When my lads told me Black Duncan left this morning, I hoped I might get lucky. I’d just begun to think you’d never come out of there, lass.”

Since he stood uphill from her and towered over her, he looked even larger than usual, but he did seem to be alone.

Realizing belatedly that the shrubbery hid them from anyone at the castle, she felt a tremor of panic but ruthlessly suppressed it to affect a confidence she was far from feeling. She stepped away from him, hefted her basket as if she considered it a weapon, and said sharply, “Leave me alone, Ewan.”

“Nay then, lass, that is no way to talk… My lads and I have been keeping a close watch on this place for over a week, and I’m tired. I thought we had you yesterday, but turned out it was the wrong lass. That’s of no consequence now, though, for you’ll come back with me to Shian and we’ll settle it all between us.”

“I am married, Ewan.”

“Aye, I heard, but unless Duncan’s taken to flying, I doubt he’s anywhere near at hand now. I saw him myself, being poled across the narrows on that damned tipsy ferry this morning, and the earl has gone up toward the head of the loch with the bulk of his men. It’s a fine day for hunting, too. They’ll be of no help to you.”

“I won’t go with you.” Still fighting her fear, she tried to sound firm.

He said flatly, “You have no choice.” He reached for her then, but she eluded him, and as he lunged toward her, a snowball crashed against the side of his head.

“Run, Mary! Run!”

It was Pinkie’s voice; and, at the same moment, a whistle sounded loud and long, the same notes Mary had once heard Duncan use to signal his men.

“Damnation,” Ewan exclaimed when another snowball struck him on the forehead. “Come on, lass,
now!”

But by the time he brushed the snow from his eyes Mary had dropped her basket, snatched up her skirts, and run. Ignoring bushes and branches that grabbed at her clothing, she dashed headlong from the woods toward the castle. She heard him following her, but suddenly, just as she emerged onto open ground, all sound of his pursuit stopped. When she looked up to see Jock Burnett and his men running toward her from the castle, she knew she had no more to fear from Ewan.