The Heather Moon (7 page)

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Authors: Susan King

Tags: #Highland Warriors, #Highlander, #Highlanders, #Historical Romance, #Love Story, #Medieval Romance, #Romance, #Scottish Highland, #Warrior, #Warriors

BOOK: The Heather Moon
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"Dreams can come to much, if ye never give them up," he said. "'This is my fond dream, which I've kept close for years. I never thought 'twould be possible, but now the lad is back from the royal court. So if they hang me this day, you must remember what I said, and go to Rookhope to tell him what I wished."

She bowed her head. Guilt slipped through her, for she knew that she could never tell her father about the accidental bond of blood between her and William Scott. Archie would put far too much value on it. She stayed silent, uncertain how to reply.

"Seems to me," Archie said, "that Will Scott is just the sort o' rogue ye want, lass. A fine rogue, with a good heart. He did help us last night."

"But I dinna really know him," she said. "Nor do you."

"He's Allan Scott's lad," Archie said stoutly. "He's another Rogue o' Rookhope."

"But the son isna like his father. You told me that William Scott was taken hostage as a lad and raised at the royal court."

"I know he had a gentile confinement, educated beside King James himself, sharing his tutors, learning foreign languages, letters, books, and such. And I know he was a friend and an advisor to King James too. A fine lad, that Will Scott. He didna return to Rookhope until last year, I heard."

"He isna the Border rogue you wish him to be. He's a man of the court, and a friend to the English. I know you were a loyal friend to Allan Scott, and he to you, but that may blind you to the truth of his son. We dinna know him. He might indeed be treacherous, Da."

Archie sat in silence. Then he grunted. "He might be a foul rascal, true. But then again, he might be a bonny scoundrel like Allan. We dinna know yet. Do ye look at his palm, and ye can tell if he be a bad or a good rogue."

"Palmistry isna for spying on a man's character," she said. She could hardly tell her father that she had already seen William Scott's palm briefly, and that the qualities she saw there only affirmed what her father saw in the man.

"I dinna need to see his hand," Archie said. "I know he's a braw man, and a trusty one. Rogue's Will, we called him, though he was but a scrap o' a lad and the shadow o' his father." He smiled a little to himself, as if lost in memories.

Tamsin sighed in exasperation. "He is in agreement with Musgrave on some secret matter!" She glanced toward the door as a guard walked past, and lowered her voice. "I told you what he said to me. Accept whatever Musgrave offers you, no matter what, or we will both be hanged."

"See, Rookhope tried to help us. He's a good rogue."

"He wants us to side with the English!" she insisted.

"Hey, guard!" Archie called. The guard reappeared and looked at them. "Tell me. Is Rookhope wedded?"

Tamsin sighed and shook her head in frustration.

"What? Wed?" The guard frowned. "Nay, I dinna think so."

"Hah!" Archie looked at Tamsin triumphantly.

"Promise me you will say naught to him about a wife!" she said. "Da, you must promise me!"

Archie mumbled reluctant agreement and closed his eyes.

* * *

Later, Tamsin and her father followed the guards out of the dungeon and up a narrow winding stairway. Archie stumbled, alarming Tamsin, but he recovered his balance. They emerged into a dim corridor, walking along until the guards stopped at an arched oaken door.

"In here." One of the guards knocked and opened the door.

Tamsin entered the chamber, which contained a large curtained bed and several pieces of furniture. A window, its lower shutters opened, spilled golden sunlight into the room. She walked past the bed and stood in the middle of the wooden planked floor, her father just behind her.

Three men watched them. William Scott stood by the window, leaning a shoulder against the wall with taut grace. Nearby, Jasper Musgrave and a third man, younger than the other two, sat in chairs beside a table.

In daylight, Jasper Musgrave was huge, with pale, doughy skin, sparse gray hair, and a quilted maroon doublet stretched tightly over his belly. By contrast, William Scott was lean and striking to look upon. Long-limbed and raven-haired, his jaw darkened with the smudge of a few days' beard growth, he wore clothes that, while simply cut, were far more elegant in their plain quality than Musgrave's elaborate satin doublet. Quiet strength and simplicity made him seem like a portrait of a dark, intense angel beside Musgrave's representation of gluttony.

Despite his natural and appealing beauty, despite his kindness of the night before—she still wore his brown doublet—Tamsin let herself see only the scoundrel. His association with Musgrave made her suspicious of his character. She wished her father would see that also.

The third man was a young, slimmer version of Jasper Musgrave, his features pleasant. The young man seemed vague, as if he faded beside the power of William Scott and the massive presence of Jasper Musgrave.

The guards murmured with Musgrave and took their leave, shutting the door behind them. William Scott watched Tamsin steadily, his blue eyes flashing in the sunbeam that cut through the window glazing. She glanced away—and gasped.

A thick, knotted noose lay on the table with papers, a few goblets, and a wine jug. Musgrave played with the hempen tail that spilled down to the floor. He watched Tamsin and Archie through narrowed eyes.

She drew a breath and raised her chin. "From the rafters, Jasper Musgrave? You think to hang us, here and now?"

"Quiet, gypsy, lest I tell you to speak." Musgrave let go of the rope and took up a goblet, sipping noisily. Beside him, the younger man sifted through the parchments.

Scott folded his arms across his chest and remained silent. His remote manner set him apart from the others, but Tamsin saw a small muscle pulse in his jaw. A rosy stain crept into his cheeks as he watched the other men.

Dark as a raven he might be, she thought, but he had fair, telling skin. What tapped at his conscience or roused his anger to produce that blush, she could not guess.

"Hey, Arthur," Archie said to the younger man. "Come to protect yer father from the likes o' me?"

"My son is here as my deputy," Jasper said. Arthur nodded.

"Yer lad is a fine reiver," Archie said. "He's taken sheep and horses from me, I know that. And now he's a deputy. What a braw lad!" His false heartiness edged on sarcasm.

Tamsin sent her father a warning glare. He ignored her.

"I have an offer for you, Archie," Jasper said.

"I am nae yer man in any matter," Archie replied stiffly.

"As a laird who can summon a hundred horse—" Arthur began.

"Two hundred," Archie interrupted. "Scoundrels all."

"Exactly what we need," Jasper said. "You may be a scoundrel, but your name is respected among the Scottish marchmen. There are many men who will follow your lead."

Tamsin frowned at William Scott, whose expression remained impassive, although the pink hollows of his cheeks gave a glimpse into his thoughts. Something angered or bothered him greatly about this interview, she realized. She wondered if he was displeased with the Musgraves or the Armstrongs—or if his own conscience troubled him.

She narrowed her eyes. His insistence that they accept Musgrave's offer might come from Scott's own need to trick them or to be rid of them. She was not certain. He was clearly not like the Musgraves. He was intriguing, mysterious, and wholly compelling. And she could not seem to stop looking at him, her gaze stumbling over the glances he slid toward her.

Jasper Musgrave tapped a parchment sheet that lay beneath his hand on the table. "I could hang you for horse thievery. But we may be able to bargain, you and I."

"I willna bargain wi' ye, Jasper. So hang me." Archie straightened to his full and considerable height.

Tamsin felt her heart sink at her father's words. She feared that Jasper Musgrave would lose his temper and hang Archie without further questions. The noose lay on the table like a coiled, sleeping snake. She suddenly wanted to run, to be free of this place at any cost.

She saw William Scott slide another glance toward her. His blue eyes conveyed a silent, intent message, and she remembered his words from last night:
Say "aye" to whatever Musgrave offers, else you will both hang,
he had told her.
I want you both out of this.

Now he said nothing, but she was sure that he still wanted them away from here. A subtle sense of danger spun in her gut. She edged closer to her father.

"Da," she whispered, "listen to Musgrave. We must get out of this however we can." Archie growled in full temper. She looked at William Scott, but he had turned his head, breaking the gossamer bond between them, dispelling the fragile hope for his support that she had begun to feel.

"You are a captured criminal, Archie," Musgrave said.

"Ye tricked us last night, Jasper," Archie answered. "Those horses—er, halters we took were laid out a-purpose to lure us into yer trap. I willna bargain wi' ye."

Musgrave slapped the table. "I'll trap you further, with a noose around your neck, if you don't shut up! King Henry will be generous with all Scots prisoners to honor Scotland's new queen, out of the grace of his great heart. You will be pardoned, if you cooperate."

"There is nae grace from a graceless heart! Think me a fool, man? Henry wants to conquer Scotland! Our queen is a wee babe. The noblemen squabble for power, and argue whether a lass of any age should sit the throne. Henry seeks to purchase Border support so he can take Scotland in his grip. Ye willna have treachery o' me!"

"King Henry will expect support for his cause in Scotland, in return for pardoning you and your daughter!"

"Fine!" Archie shouted. "Go tell yer king we wish him well! That's all the support he'll get o' Archie Armstrong! Now leave me be—or hang me high!"

William Scott stepped forward as Musgrave began to sputter. "Tempers serve no purpose here," he said calmly. "Jasper, explain your offer to the laird of Merton."

Musgrave grunted. "I have been instructed by Lord Wharton, who takes his orders from King Henry, to find Scottish Border-men to help advance a plan formed by the king himself."

Aware that her father's temper had not yet cooled, Tamsin stepped forward before Archie could retort in anger. "Say out what you want of us, Jasper Musgrave," she said.

"You keep a woman of the Egyptian race in your house, Armstrong," Musgrave said, ignoring her.

"Ye know Tamsin is my daughter," Archie replied.

"But her mother was one of the Egyptian race. Does she have contact with roaming gypsy bands?"

"She has kin among one band. That doesna concern ye."

"Gypsies have been banished from England and from Scotland." Musgrave scowled. "Harboring them breaks the law in both lands."

"My daughter," Archie growled, "has been in my house since she was six years old, and ye will leave her be."

"Where was she born?" Musgrave persisted.

"I was born in Scotland, and baptized in a parish kirk," Tamsin answered.

"She is a proper Scot," Archie said. He towered protectively beside Tamsin. Even with bound hands, he radiated a rough power. "Ye canna punish her for her gypsy blood. Leave her be, and say what ye truly want."

"King Henry and Wharton, with others, have designed a plan to further the king's cause in Scotland. We need men to support that."

"Ye need lairds wi' loyalty to the English, nae such as me," Archie said.

"We also want common Bordermen," Musgrave answered. "The success of our plan depends on help from men like you, Archie."

"Men who would never be involved with the English," Tamsin said, "will be hard to convince."

"Coin heals a variety of political ailments," Musgrave answered, though he did not look at her. "And we could also benefit from the help of gypsies, who never turn down coin for any task. I hear that once they give their word, they keep it."

"Of course they keep it!" Tamsin snapped. "You can leave your spoons out around the Romany."

Musgrave lowered his brows. "And what does that mean?"

"She means the gypsies are trustworthy," William said.

"But you willna get their promise for this plan," Tamsin said.

"Will I not?" Musgrave growled.

"Gypsies and rogues!" Arthur Musgrave, who had been listening intently, looked at his father. "Dinna listen to her—we take too great a chance in dealing with such men."

"They are exactly what we need for this," Jasper said. "Rascals all, eager for coin, without Scottish loyalties but with Scottish ties. With Rookhope, Armstrong of Merton, a few Border scoundrels, and a handful of gypsies, this plan will succeed nicely."

"What is your scheme?" Tamsin asked.

"A plan to benefit all, north and south," Musgrave said.

"War?" Tamsin asked, horrified.

"Nay. I cannot say as yet." Musgrave glanced away.

"King Henry wants only good for Scotland," Arthur said. His father nodded. "Our king is greatly concerned for his northern neighbors, who lack a strong ruler. The little queen of Scotland needs his guidance."

"Aye, he sees a chance to take over Scotland!" Archie said. "I willna help ye." He set his jaw stubbornly.

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