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Authors: Amanda Scott

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BOOK: Seduced by a Rogue
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“I thought you
wanted
my father to know I am your captive.”

“Nay, only that he is more likely to get you back if he behaves sensibly. I’d be unwise to tell you just what I mean to do.
But I will keep you safe. In fact, the greatest danger to your safety arises if he
does
learn you are here and tries to bring an army into Galloway to fetch you.”

“If you are thinking that Archie Douglas would try to stop him—”

“Nay, lass, I ken as fine as you do that Archie would join him. But the sheriff will do all he can to keep a Dunwythie army
out of Nithsdale, let alone allow it to cross into Galloway and raise Archie’s ire. Sithee, in that event, the clan war I
hope to avoid would start in Dumfries. We’d learn of it only after many had died.”

Mairi knew the Maxwells might not have things all their own way if that clash did occur. Her good-brother, Sir Hugh Douglas,
lived in Nithsdale, and he felt no loyalty to the Maxwells. Before marrying her cousin Jenny, Hugh had served Archie Douglas.
The Lord of Galloway was as much his kinsman as his sister Phaeline’s.

Mairi did not share these thoughts with her companion. Instead, she said, “I don’t want anyone to die, sir. But neither do
I believe my father will submit… for any reason. I wish I could make you understand that.”

He gave her shoulder a pat as he said, “You don’t know your own power, my lady. But I do. All will be well in good time, I
promise. Now, about Annie.”

“I’ll welcome her help and her companionship,” Mairi admitted, accepting the change of subject. “Most of the gowns in those
kists fasten up the back, and there is not nearly enough thread in the wee sewing basket to hem them all.”

“I’ll get more then,” he said.

“But about your Annie,” she went on. “I must say I’d prefer not to share that chamber day and night with a stranger, however
kind or helpful she may be.”

“That must be as you wish,” he said. “If you change your mind, you need only tell me. Shall we walk now and drink in this
splendid view? I promise you, the weather is rarely so kind this time of year. We should enjoy it.”

She agreed, and she did enjoy the grand panorama before them. From the eastern parapet, she could see across the bay. The
incoming tide made the cliffs look lower than they had looked the day before.

“How high does the water come?” she asked him.

“The difference between high and low tide most of the time is about eighteen feet here,” he said. “During spring tides, it
can be as much as twenty-six.”

“Then you cannot use that sea entrance at high tide,” she said.

“Nay, nor keep a boat inside the cavern, come to that. I beach my boats below Senwick village when the tide is out. The spire
of Senwick’s kirk is the near one you see from here. The water there often gets too rough for safety, though, so I generally
keep the boats in Senwick Bay, farther north, where they can anchor more securely to ride with the tides. If the weather gets
too bad, my lads move them to Kirkcudbright harbor, near Castle Mains. That would be the two towers—”

“I know that castle,” she said. “We stayed there overnight last year before we went on to Threave.”

“Aye, sure, you would, for you’d likely have arrived in the evening if you traveled with the morning ebb as we did.”

She supposed they had traveled with the tide, although she had not thought about it at the time. Drawing her cloak more tightly
around her, she leaned on the parapet to gaze at the opposite shore and the softly undulating hills beyond its cliffs.

“Beautiful, is it not?” he said. “Or are you getting too cold up here?”

“Nay, but you must have other things you must do.”

“I do have duties,” he admitted. “Moreover, I told Fin Walters to send Annie along up as soon as she could come, so I expect
we should go back downstairs.”

Nodding, Mairi followed him to the door and through to the stairway. Holding her skirts, and glad she had worn boots and not
the shoes that were too big, she quickly made her way down to the landing outside her door.

The door stood open, as they had left it, and from the landing, she saw Gibby inside. He was staring toward the window overlooking
the bay, but he turned with a wide-eyed look and hastily put a finger to his lips.

Wondering what was amiss, she went quietly in. Breath and feet stopped dead at the sight of the kitten on the windowsill—at
the outer edge, looking down.

Rob saw the lass stop and tense, and the lad beyond her looking scared.

Crossing the threshold, he saw the kitten.

Gibby’s presence and the stool beneath the window told their own tale.

“I didna ken he’d jump up there, I swear!” Gib said wretchedly. “I’d no want the tiggie wee terror to kill hisself, even an
he does bite ye as quick as look at ye.”

“Of course, you did not mean any harm to him,” Mairi said quietly.

“I’ll get him, lass,” Rob said, taking another step.

“Nay, sir, stay where you are,” she said in the same quiet tone. “He will heed me, I think. Won’t you, my wee cushiedoo?”

The kitten glanced at her, then looked back and dipped a paw over the edge.

Rob’s stomach clenched, but Mairi remained calm.

As she murmured and cooed to the kitten, she stepped quietly nearer until it turned toward her. Its hind legs remained so
perilously near the outer edge that Rob felt his innards churn and saw that the lad had lost his remaining color.

Mairi hesitated briefly, then continued toward the window. “Such a bonnie laddie,” she cooed. “Such a dearling towdy-mowdy.
Come now, come to Mairi.”

The kitten chirped, stepped closer to her, and she gently scooped it off the sill.

Rob did not know he had been holding his breath until he let it out.

“What did you call him before, Gibby?” Mairi asked the lad.

“D’ye mean when I said he were a wee terror? I didna mean nowt—”

“Nay, the other word you used… tiggie? Might that be a good name for him, since he does not seem to have one?”

“Aye, well, ’tis nobbut much the same as t’other,” Gibby said, turning pink. “Sithee, ’tis what Herself calls me when she
thinks I ha’ been a mite fashious.”

“Oh,” she said.

“It means cross-like, and carnaptious, like what that wee biter is,” Gibby said, nodding. “In troth, Tiggie would be a
good
name for him.”

“Oh, but I don’t—”

“Sakes,” the lad retorted, “it be gey better than calling him ‘cushie-doo’ or ‘towdy-mowdy’!”

Rob chuckled. “The lad’s right,” he said to her. “People don’t call someone cat-witted to denote a sweet temper or, come to
think on it, sharp wits.”

She held the kitten up to look into its small face. “Tiggie?”

It patted her cheek with a white forepaw.

Smiling, she said, “Prithee, Gibby, move that stool away from the window. We don’t want our wee Tiggie Whiskers to make use
of it again.”

“I put it there so I could look out,” the lad said. “But then I saw that the place could use a tidying up. I didna think it
were bad to leave it there a spell.”

“What were you doing here, Gib?” Rob asked him.

“I come to tell ye Annie were here, laird. In the hall wi’ Fin Walters,” Gibby said. “She didna ken should she come up here
or wait for ye, so I came to ask ye.”

“Then you may go down and bring her to us, Gib,” Rob said. “I’m sure her good-brother will entrust her to your care.”

“Aye, sure,” Gibby said. “I’ll see to it then.”

He ran off, full of importance, and Rob said with a smile, “I wanted another word with you before Annie comes. She’s a kind
lass, and competent, but do not think you must put up with her if you do not get on well together.”

“I’m sure we will get on fine,” she said. “But I hope you don’t think having a female companion will reconcile me to staying
in this room all the time.”

“Nay, I do see that you’ll want time outside, lass. I had thought mayhap you would like to see some of the countryside of
Borgue, which is what folks call this district. We can ride along the cliffs tomorrow morning if the weather stays fine.”

She agreed that she would enjoy such a ride, but he received the distinct impression that she would have agreed to ride to
the gates of hell if it would have taken her out of the tower for a while.

Mairi was delighted and relieved. That she would be able to leave the tower even for an hour or so was a heady thought, especially
as he had admitted that his original intent had been to keep her locked in her room until her father submitted. That, she
thought, would most likely have meant until she died of old age.

Annie’s arrival with Gibby added to her relief. Younger than Mairi had expected, she was a cheerful lass with carroty hair
parted in the middle and ruthlessly contained in two sleek plaits coiled behind her ears. She had an infectious grin, her
blue eyes sparkled, and she seemed to bring more sunshine into the room with her.

Gibby strutted as if he had produced Annie by some feat of legerdemain. “She can sleep wi’ ye or no, as ye please, Fin Walters
did say. Did he no, Annie?”

“Aye, he did that,” Annie said. “Fin be like an old hen, m’lady. That be right, to call you so, I hope. Gibby did say I ought.”

Mairi nodded, saying, “I am pleased to meet you, Annie. I have two kists yonder with clothing the laird provided, but nearly
all of it is too long. I found a mending basket with needles, some threads, and a pair of thimbles—oh, and a wee pair of scissors
fit only for cutting thread. I hope you are handy with a needle.”

“Aye, m’lady, I can do plain mending and white stitching, sheets and smocks and such, and simple embroidery.”

“I’d liefer sleep alone,” Mairi told her at once. “But if you live far—”

“Nay, mistress, nobbut a step, and me da doesna feel the same as Fin does about me staying in the tower. Fin says he can look
after me, but me da and me mam would rather I be home afore dark—unless the laird bids me stay wi’ ye.”

Mairi assured her that the laird would issue no such order and then introduced her to Tiggie. They settled quickly to work,
enjoying the kitten’s antics as it displayed intense interest in the mending basket, and their threads.

Gibby left but returned an hour later with their midday meal, explaining that the laird and Fin Walters thought it would be
best if the women ate privately.

The next morning, the laird kept his word, appearing shortly after Mairi had broken her fast. She had found a gown suitable
for riding the afternoon before, and Annie had helped her shorten it, so she was eager to be off.

A gillie waited in the yard with their horses and a third for himself.

Hearing the barmkin gate shut behind them made Mairi smile, and the ride was all her host had promised and more. The gillie
kept his distance, the sun shone, the wind had dropped to a whisper, and the air was crisp without being icy.

Spring seemed to have settled in to stay.

They rode toward the Firth, and westward along its coast. Waves crashed below, and she was glad the trail lay a safe distance
from the cliff edge.

Maxwell could tell a good story. Although Mairi knew that Archie the Grim had imposed peace on Galloway after many others
had tried and failed to tame the place, she had not realized what a feat it was until Rob—as she had begun to think of him,
albeit without yet saying the name—
described the wild, aggressive, lawless Celtic tribes that Archie had successfully tamed.

“I
do
understand their resistance to the Scottish laws imposed on them when their ways had served so well for centuries,” she said
at one point with a smile.

He chuckled, but to her relief, he did not take the remark as an invitation to discuss her father’s views or the sheriff’s.

After their ride, however, hemming skirts and gowns with Annie that afternoon seemed especially tedious, although they had
only a few more yet to do.

The laird had provided her with nearly any article of clothing a woman might need. But when Mairi learned they had belonged
to Lady Kelso, she was shocked.

She said so at once, only to have Annie, who had told her, inform her that the furniture in the chamber had also belonged
to Lady Kelso or to her husband.

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