Seduced by a Rogue (36 page)

“You would look after Tiggie for me? I thought you ‘dinna ha’ nowt to do wi’ the wee terror,’” she said, teasing him with
his own words.

Gibby shrugged. “We get on good now. Any road, the laird did say I couldna come in the boat without I agreed to look after
the lad and keep him quiet.”

Mairi lifted the kitten out. By the look of it, it was still more than half asleep. When she set it on the floor, it took
a tentative step, swayed, and shook itself.

“Why, what’s amiss with him?” she asked.

Gib shrugged. “Whisky, I expect.”

“Whisky!”

“Aye, sure, the laird himself did say not long since that whisky gives a man good sleep. So I gave a thimbleful to the lad
there, and as ye see, it worked a charm.”

Mairi bit her lip, reminding herself that her father lay dead in the house and that kittens almost certainly ought not to
drink whisky, but it was no use. Try as she might to stifle the laughter bubbling in her throat, it pealed out and filled
the hall.

“Sakes, but he liked it fine,” Gib muttered.

Rob’s journey back to Trailinghail passed without incident and without wind. Thus it also passed in a fog of boredom with
naught to divert him from thoughts that remained at Annan House with Mairi. He was sure she would miss her sister, Fiona,
as much as, or even more than, she would miss his lordship.

But he remembered his gentle mother’s death, as well as his stern father’s, and he knew that losing any parent was dreadfully
hard.

He also knew, however, that his continued presence would have done more harm than good. It would certainly have caused tension
with her stepmother and also much gossip and many accusations.

Moreover, he did not doubt for a minute that when she considered the matter at length, she would blame him at least a little
for Fiona’s elopement.

Not only had he taken Will to Dunwythie Mains the day they had all met but
he
had abducted Mairi while Will was working his devilry with Fiona. If only to spare Mairi more pain, Rob knew he was doing
the right thing by going home.

The decision did not make the long, dull trip easier to bear.

They did reach the mouth of the bay shortly before dusk. But, having used up the entire ebb tide to get there, they arrived
at low water.

Holding off, far enough out to avoid being seen, they waited for the incoming tide to rise so Rob could use the sea entrance
to get back inside the tower.

By the time he did, the sun had been down for several hours and darkness was fully upon them. If Alex’s men were watching
the sea, Rob decided, they had probably watched the sun go down and gone about their business.

Bidding his men goodnight, he reminded them to return to the tower by ones and twos in the morning so as not to draw undue
attention. Then, taking the stairs, he let himself in with the latch chain, pulled it back inside, replaced the bars, took
a jug of whisky from the shelf, and went to the kitchen to get supper.

Feeling more his usual self after he’d eaten, and knowing his grandmother would be in the great chamber, he went up to tell
her he was back.

“Mercy me,” she said when Eliza let him in. “You did explain about the tides, but I did not think you could truly make so
long a journey in so short a time.”

“It did not seem short to me, coming back,” he said.

“Aye, well, you got her home safely,” she said.

He told her what had happened. Then, after she exclaimed her dismay at Dunwythie’s death and he had answered all the questions
he could, he asked if Alex was still outside the gate.

“Aye, sure, and stubborn enough to stay until Christmas, I’m thinking.”

“Nay, then, he will not,” Rob said. “I mean to have him inside tomorrow to tell him he must parley with Lord Johnstone or
one of the other Annandale lairds if he persists with this foolish scheme of his.”

“So it is foolish now, is it?”

“Aye, and always was,” he told her. “When one hears only one side of an argument, that side seems right. But in this case,
the other side’s reasons make more sense. To my mind, Gran, when a thing is working, one ought not to meddle with it. The
system in Annandale
has
worked well for a century and more, so there can be no need for us Maxwells to assert power there, or any good to come from
it.”

“I don’t disagree with that, Rob, but what about Archie Douglas?”

“Douglas is another matter,” he said. “If he asserts power, it is because he needs many men to assure the safety of the Borders,
and all ken that fine. So they think it no great thing if he should ask for more gelt or goods to supply his army. The Douglases
have long proven their ability to protect us from the English. We Maxwells lack that repute, thanks mostly to other, long
dead Maxwells.”

“So you mean to challenge Alex on the matter, do you?”

“If necessary, I will, for I promised Mairi I would. At present, I mean to let him know only that she is no longer here, so
he can go home and take his men with him before they lay waste all the land around Trailinghail.”

A
ccordingly, the next morning, Rob sent a lad to invite the sheriff in to break his fast with Trailinghail’s laird. Not much
to Rob’s surprise, Lady Kelso and Eliza entered the hall shortly after Alex did.

Having brought two of his own men along, Alex said as he approached the dais, “I trust you do not mind my escort and will
welcome them at high table.”

Rob nodded, knowing that Alex would be more civil with them there and more discreet. However, it was too much to hope that
the two henchmen, whom Rob knew well, did not know most of what was going on.

Signing to the gillies to begin serving, Rob shook hands with Alex and nodded to the other two.

Alex said, “I brought them in the hope that your invitation this morning means you have come to your senses, lad, and will
let me take custody of her ladyship. She will doubtless want to bring along a maidservant, as well.”

“I have spared you the necessity of assuming that burden,” Rob said. “The lady in question is safely at home. Moreover, your
dispute with Dunwythie is at an end, Alex. His lordship is dead.”

“Are you daft enough to think I’d believe that? My lads have kept careful watch, as you must ken fine.
No
female save that Annie lass has left this tower since I came here. Moreover, I would surely have had word of such a death
if you have.”

“I swear to you by all I hold dear or holy that she is not here, Alex. If you do not believe me, then search until you content
yourself that I speak the truth.”

Alex frowned at him, then shifted his gaze to Lady Kelso. “Madam, do you also swear that the lady is not here?”

“I do, Alexander. Moreover, you should think shame to yourself that you accuse your brother of lying when he gives his oath.
Likewise, if he says Thomas Dunwythie is dead, the man is stone cold and likely in his grave by now.”

“But how… how can you know all this? And how could she have been here two days ago and gone now, when we have searched all
who left here?”

“Because you did not see all who left, of course, including me,” Rob answered. “Do not ask me to share the secrets of Trailinghail
with you, however, even without your henchmen. Before you came here and threatened to lay siege to my tower, mayhap I would
have shared them, Alex, and gladly. But no longer.”

“But Dunwythie was headed to Dumfries! How
can
you know he’s dead?”

“Because I saw him die and declared him so, myself.”

Alex was quiet, and Rob did not like the pensive look on his face.

Then Alex said, “Who will inherit?” And Rob knew he had been right to suspect he was already scheming again.

With a shrug, Rob said, “As Lady Dunwythie is with child, we cannot know the answer to that yet. However, you may be sure
the Douglases will take interest, too. My advice to you now is to let be.”

“Aye, likely you’ve the right of it… for now,” Alex said.

“Certainly until after Easter,” her ladyship said. “You would be most unwise, my dear Alex, to flex your power before the
holy season has ended, lest you hear the priest at St. Michael’s denounce you before the congregation on Easter morn.”

Alex smiled at her and said, “You ken fine that I would never defile the holy season, madam.”

Hopeful that he had fulfilled his promise to Mairi, Rob watched with relief as the sheriff’s party departed later that morning.
When he went back inside after seeing them off, Lady Kelso awaited him in the empty great hall.

Without bothering to exchange pleasantries, she said, “You do know that he covets the Dunwythie estates, do you not, Rob?
One could see it in his eyes the first time he mentioned his right to seize the property. Your brother has developed a voracious
taste for power, I fear.”

“I agree with you,” he admitted.

“At first, it showed only in the pride he took, governing Dumfries,” she said. “But with the chief of your clan always away
in Glasgow or Stirling, Alex has had a free hand to do as he likes without hindrance. Such freedom from restraint is not good
for any man. And Easter, my dear, is just a fortnight from tomorrow.”

“You believe he’ll take those estates if he can.” When she nodded, he said, “Well, so do I. But I won’t allow it, Gran. I
don’t know yet how I’ll stop him. I’m loath to seek aid from Archie Douglas, because I don’t want to humiliate Alex or other
Maxwells. But I’ll not let them harm Mairi or take her land.”

“Ah, well, he’ll do nowt until he learns who inherits,” she said.

At Annan House, Mairi was finding life hard without Fiona. Never before had she realized how much of a buffer her sister provided
against her stepmother.

Without Fiona, she endured entirely too much of Phaeline.

Although Phaeline did not carp or correct her as she often had before, she refused to take Mairi’s authority seriously, insisting
that anyone who could so mindlessly let a man abduct her from Annan House while she carried the keys to its pantry and buttery
could hardly claim to be a good manager.

“’Tis of no use to say you brought those keys back,” she added when Mairi reminded her of that fact. “We had to break in,
so we have a new lock.”

Phaeline also wondered aloud two or three times a day how Mairi would ever find a husband with such a scandal to discredit
her.

And Phaeline took strong exception to Tiggie.

“Cats do have their place,” she said austerely the following Friday morning as the two women and Sadie sat together in the
solar.

Phaeline was embroidering at her tambour frame. Sadie sat just behind her on a stool, sorting threads for her. And Mairi had
set aside her own work to pick up and stroke the now-purring Tiggie, who was otherwise determined to “help” Sadie.

Although no one encouraged further comment on the subject of cats, Phaeline went on to say, “Suppose I should trip over him
and fall?” She touched her belly. “What then for the bairn I carry? Surely, that cat could live quite happily outside where
it can chase mice and other vermin and make itself useful.”

“Tiggie amuses me, madam,” Mairi said quietly. “He is either in motion, in mischief, or so sound asleep that one can pick
him up without waking him. And he purrs whenever I touch him. Surely, you do not begrudge me amusement or comfort, or deny
the need for such yourself. We both grieve, after all.”

“Aye, we do,” Phaeline said with a sigh. “I miss having a man about more than I can tell you. One simply needs someone about
the place to see that all is done properly. Females do
not
convey the same strong air of authority.”

“Sakes, has someone dared to be rude to you?” Mairi demanded.

“Nay, nay, ’tis just that when your father was here…” She sighed again.

“He did seek always to make you most comfortable, madam, ’tis true. He was a good man. I will try to keep Tiggie out of your
way, if that will please you. But, prithee, do not ask to have him put outside, for I will not allow that. He must come and
go as he pleases, because that pleases me.”