Amanda Scott (13 page)

“They’ve got company,” Thomas said.

Rory saw five people standing in the yard between the main house and what looked like a barn or stable. From their stiff postures and agitated movements, he knew he and Thomas were interrupting an acrimonious confrontation. Two of the participants were female, three male, and by the time he and Thomas were within hailing distance, he could hear at least two angry male voices. Because the five stood in a small circle, he could not see a single face clearly, but he felt an odd, unexplainable sense of excitement, well beyond what the little scene conveyed.

One of the women, a young one with tawny hair, turned her head and saw them, then reached out to touch the nearest man. When he turned with his mouth dropping in dismay, Rory recognized Ian. Then the other woman turned, and his wonder at Ian’s presence vanished in a blink when he found himself staring in shocked disbelief at Mab MacKissock.

That she recognized him at once was clear, for she looked both defiant and frightened. As well she might, he thought grimly, but perversely, his senses focused on the bright color in her cheeks and the way her eyes sparkled.

The other two men were still arguing. One was tall and redheaded with bushy, beetling red eyebrows, and clearly had a temper to match. The other man, older and smaller, was trying to calm him but seemed close to losing his own temper. Then the wench spoke, and both men fell silent.

She turned to Rory and said curtly, “What do you want?”

“Diana!” The other young woman sounded shocked by her rudeness, but the wench paid her no heed. She kept her eyes fixed on Rory.

Realizing the instant he heard her addressed as Diana that she was not in any way the common wench he had once thought her, but seeing no reason to reveal his dismay before such an audience, he said mildly, “I have come to speak to you.”

“Well, you’d better do it quickly,” she snapped. “Red Colin has just served us with preliminary notice that we are to be evicted in six weeks, on Term Day, although our rent is paid in full. I daresay such treatment is what all the loyal citizens of Appin can expect now that you filthy Campbells control the Highlands.”

D
IANA GLARED AT LORD
Calder, ignoring the others, hoping no one could tell how hard her heart was beating with fear. He had spoken mildly, and perhaps she ought to have replied in kind, but he held the power to see her hanged, and before his arrival Red Colin had made her so angry that she could not think straight. To make matters worse, when she had seen his lordship so shockingly near, the words had simply spewed from her tongue on a wave of panic. She could not take them back now, heaven knew, but help came from an unexpected quarter.

Red Colin, puffing himself up like an arrogant cock, said aggressively, “You intrude upon Crown business, sir. Who the devil are you, and what do you want?”

“I am Calder,” his lordship said steadily, his eyes taking on the flintlike look that Diana remembered only too well from Edinburgh.

She did not expect the peevish Crown factor to react to the look in the same way that she had, but she was not surprised when he fell silent, scowling at Calder through slitted eyes as the latter dismounted and handed his reins to Thomas.

James, looking like a sleek, well-mannered banty rooster next to Red Colin, held out his hand at once and said, “I know of you, of course, my lord. I am James Stewart, erstwhile factor here and still tacksman for Ardsheal’s estate. Welcome to Appin country. Perhaps you can be of assistance to Mistress Diana and her family, for this is an utter travesty, as I was just telling Glenure, and—”

“I will be happy to speak with you both presently,” Calder interjected. “Just now, however, I want a word with Mistress Diana, so if you would please me, James Stewart, you will leave now in peace and call upon me at Balcardane at your convenience to say what you will. Glenure, you may await me yonder near the gate. I want to speak to you when I am finished with Mistress Diana.”

Though his words were polite, his tone left no room for debate, and both James and Red Colin made their bows and stepped away out of earshot, leaving Calder with Diana, Mary, and a red-faced but still silent Ian. Thomas led the gray and his own mount toward the barn.

Certain that Calder had no wish to help them, and having fully expected him to demand her instant arrest, Diana remained speechless. Perhaps he did not yet understand the extent of Red Colin’s authority, for surely, if he had, he would have ordered him to take her into custody at once.

Mary and Ian were still looking at her, she noted, Mary doubtless expecting to be presented, and both wondering how she knew Calder. Gentle Ian had said that his cousin was visiting Balcardane, but since Red Colin had arrived at that very moment in their conversation, she had neither admitted her acquaintance nor requested more information about Calder.

Just as it occurred to her that he might think she had told Ian about their previous meetings, Calder said in the same mild tone he had used before, “I hope you do not mind my addressing you as Mistress Diana.”

“I don’t care what you call me,” she blurted. Then, realizing that she would be safer if she directed the conversation, she reined in her temper and said more politely, “Pray allow me to present my cousin Mary Maclaine, sir.”

As Mary made her curtsy, Diana hastened to add, “She hails from another branch of our clan, and her name is spelled differently from ours but pronounced the same way. She is the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, but her mother and several of her sisters died when she was small. Then Butcher Cumberland and his villains murdered the rest of her family after the rebellion. Finding herself orphaned, she came with us to Appin when we moved here from the Island of Mull.”

She knew she was babbling, and when his eyes began to gleam, she feared he would cut her off as ruthlessly as he had James. Determined to let him know that she had said nothing to Ian about their encounters, she said quickly, “You already know Ian, of course. You must be the grand cousin he said is visiting Balcardane.”

Glancing at Ian, who regarded him the way a sparrow must regard a sparrow hawk—an attitude with which Diana felt great sympathy—Calder said, “I am.”

His mild manner gave her courage. She said crisply, “I know you think you have reason to harbor ill feelings toward me, sir, and perhaps you do. But if you think I will allow you to bully anyone else in my household, you had better think again. You can prove nothing against anyone, as you must know by now, so I wish you will just say whatever it is you want to say to me and be off again.”

Ian said in bewilderment, “What are you saying, Diana? Do you already know Cousin Rory? Why did you not say so before? Why would he harbor ill feeling toward you, and what could he possibly wish to prove against anyone?”

Calder’s visible, albeit grim, amusement added to her annoyance with herself. That she could so stupidly dismiss Ian’s presence when she had just been at pains to tell Calder he was unaware of their previous meetings just showed how rattled she was. She said glibly, “Never you mind, Ian. If I don’t seem to be thinking or talking sensibly, you must blame your thoughtless kinsmen—Red Colin for upsetting me with his awful notice, and his lordship for descending upon us without warning. You called him Cousin Rory, and I knew him as Calder, that’s all. I met him in Edinburgh, but he is a Campbell, after all, and we …” She fell awkwardly silent when Calder raised his eyebrows in an exaggerated expression of interest.

Speaking then for the first time since Calder’s arrival, Mary said gently, “Diana, do let Lord Calder get a word in, will you? He means us no harm.”

Seeing the flintlike eyes snap toward Mary in surprise, Diana said, “I told you she is the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, my lord.”

He said to Mary, “Do you have the gift of second sight, mistress?”

Mary nodded. “I do, sir, though it is more a curse at times than a gift.”

“She cannot control it,” Diana said, feeling herself relax as a result of Mary’s reassurance. “If you do not mean us harm, then I hope you will heed what James of the Glen said, for Red Colin has overstepped himself this time, you see. Our next quarter’s rent is paid, so he has no business serving us with an eviction notice.”

“I daresay he knows his business,” Calder said. “You can appeal to the Exchequer if you disagree, or to the Duke of Argyll, but it will do no good to complain to me. You cannot expect me simply to take your word over that of my kinsman, especially when I have not yet heard his side of the dispute.”

“You said you wanted to speak to me, but now you say nothing to the purpose. If you cannot help us, then go away, my lord. We want none of you or your ilk. Not you, Ian,” she added when the young man flushed deeply. “We don’t count you an ordinary Campbell, you know.”

With a new edge to his voice, Calder said, “I do want to talk to you, mistress, but I should prefer to do so privately.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk privately to you!” Heat surged to her cheeks at the sound of her rudeness, but the thought of being alone with him again set raw nerves afire throughout her body. Knowing they could all see her confusion did nothing to calm her. Nor did the look of intent in his eyes when her gaze collided with his.

Suddenly, the warm sunlight reminded her of the hearth fire at Stalker. The salty breeze touching her face seemed to smell of wood smoke, and hearing a sea lion bark in the distance, her imagination turned it to a distant night bird’s call.

Without looking away from her, Calder said sternly to the others, “Leave us.”

Her lips dried, and she struggled to look at anything but the steely gray eyes that held hers in thrall. Forcing the words out, she said, “Mary, don’t go.”

To her shock, however, Mary said, “Come, Ian. You heard his lordship. He wants to speak privately with Diana.”

Ian said, “But, Mary, don’t you think—?”

“Come, Ian,” Mary repeated with uncharacteristic firmness in her voice. “I have already told you that he means her no harm.”

Wrenching her gaze from Calder’s to glare at them, and finding her tongue at last, Diana snapped, “How can you say that? He is a Campbell, is he not? It is indecent to leave any defenseless young female alone with a Campbell male.”

Mary laughed, curtsied, and pushed Ian ahead of her toward the house.

“Traitors,” Diana muttered.

“If Ian is a traitor, he is not betraying you,” Calder said, still with that edge she had heard before in his voice.

“I meant both of them, for I have never known Mary to do such a thing before. Ian only stopped here to tell us he had found one of our lambs in the woods,” she added, hating the defensive note that crept into her voice.

“If that is true,” Calder retorted, “then he knew this morning that the lamb was missing, because he told me he had an appointment at noon.”

“Well, it is true that he found a lamb,” she said. It was true, although she knew Mary had expected him. But with Mary one never knew if expectation was ordinary or derived from intuition.

Calder said, “I did not come here to talk about Ian.”

“He will be relieved to hear that, I’m sure.”

“I do not tell tales out of school, Mistress Maclean.”

She found herself wondering why his calling her Mistress Maclean sounded more like an epithet than a polite form of address. But when she looked for an answer in his expression, she wished she had kept her eyes lowered.

He was still watching her as steadily as before, and she found his gaze just as disconcerting. Remembering her concern earlier that he might not have been able to free himself from his bonds, she grimaced. Clearly, he was a man who could take care of himself. Glancing toward the gate, she saw that James had gone, but Red Colin leaned against the rail fence, watching them.

“Look at me,” Calder said.

“He is watching us,” she said. “You may enjoy that, but I do not.”

“Then don’t look at him,” he said without sympathy. “Attend to me carefully instead, for I have some few things to say to you.”

She felt a chill race up her spine. “I don’t want to hear them.”

“I don’t doubt that, but you will hear them nonetheless. Thomas MacKellar told me that you saved our lives.”

Surprised, she made the mistake of looking right at him again. He did not wear a wig, and the sunlight set auburn highlights dancing in his dark hair. “What made Thomas think that?”

“Don’t play games with me, Diana Maclean. You will not win. Thomas said that one of your associates was about to slit his throat when you stopped him. Need I ask the identity of that would-be assassin?”

“You may ask,” she said. “I will not tell you.”

He nodded; looking satisfied, and she realized she had just admitted that someone among them had intended murder. When he looked as if he expected her to say more, she said impatiently, “So someone wanted to kill you. It might have been anyone, you know. Appin country does not love the Campbells.”

“You are quibbling now. The leader of your little band announced that he did not want to leave witnesses. You talked him out of murdering us.”

“So you understand the Gaelic,” she said. “I was afraid you might.”

Color tinged his cheeks, but he did not contradict her. Instead he said, “We did not altogether understand what you said about the ferryman. I collect that he refused to take you from the islet when you first wished to leave.”

“A decision for which you will no doubt commend him.”

He did not deny it but said quietly, “Someone said the man hails from Mull, from Craignure. The Lady Maclean who was imprisoned in Edinburgh is the widow of the Craignure Maclean chieftain, the same Anne Stewart Maclean who holds tenancy here. Will you deny that she is your mother?”

“I will not.” She watched him, fascinated, but the way he jumped from subject to subject made her head reel. She realized that he had deduced her identity as much from her presence at Maclean House as from anything she had revealed to him earlier, but she was uncertain where the gambit was taking him now.

His nod did nothing to enlighten her. Then he frowned, saying, “So the ferryman is a member of your clan.”