Amanda Scott (28 page)

“Happen they won’t let ye in, laird,” Sammy said.

That had already occurred to Kit, particularly in light of the dubious company with him. Nevertheless, it had also occurred
to him that Eustacc had no good reason to deny him and several excellent ones for letting him enter.

“If I can judge by his behavior at Mute Hill House, he will not challenge me openly whilst he still thinks he has a chance
of winning at least a portion of what he seeks legally,” Kit said. “I am the rightful laird, after all. He must know that
I can call upon allies to support me unless he has somehow won them all to his side.”

“He won’t have done that, sir. Ye could easily raise a thousand Chisholms in a day, I’m thinking, and our lads from Liddesdale
as well. Most folks hereabouts dinna approve o’ what Eustace ha’ done wi’ your father’s people, just turning them out o’ their
homes without so much as a day’s warning, the way he did.”

Kit nodded and then urged his horse near enough to the gate so the torches would light his features. “Open for the master
of this house,” he shouted. “I am Sir Christopher Chisholm, Laird of Ashkirk and Torness.”

Without hesitation, a sentry relayed his command and the gates swung wide.

Wondering if he were riding into a greater ambush than the one he had just avoided, Kit gestured to the others to follow and
rode into the courtyard.

To his surprise, Eustace strode from the main entrance to meet them. If he was not smiling, neither did he look displeased,
but only when Willie Armstrong appeared behind him in the motley guise of Mad Jake and nodded reassuringly did Kit relax.
At least Eustace did not mean to order him murdered on the spot.

“You must be glad to see Hawks Rig again, nephew,” Eustace said affably as Kit dismounted. “As you will soon see, I’ve kept
it in good repair for you.”

“Thank you, sir,” Kit said, politely gripping his outstretched hand and wondering if he ought to mention the incident below.

“My lads shouted some time ago that you were on your way up the hill,” Eustace said. “They did not mention your entourage,
so I expected your arrival sooner than this. Doubtless these others with you, being unacquainted with the track, slowed you
considerably.”

“It was a gunman that slowed us,” Kit said bluntly. “Someone fired on me below. Surely, your men must have heard the shots.”

Eustace looked shocked. “Had they heard shooting, you may be sure they would have told me, and I’d have sent an army to meet
you. Where is the villain?”

“I don’t know,” Kit said truthfully. “It was nearly dark, you see.”

“Damnation,” Eustace said. “The man responsible ought to hang.”

“I am not opposed to that,” Kit said, avoiding Sammy’s bland gaze.

A
lthough Anne could easily see for herself that the sun still shone and the birds in the garden still sang, the day seemed
to have grown gray and dismal after Kit’s departure. But although her enthusiasm for his match with Fiona had waned, she exerted
herself to persuade her cousin that he would make an excellent husband.

“He’s certainly younger than Eustace,” Fiona said as they walked in the garden, enjoying the peacefulness after so many guests
and uproar. “At least Mother is not talking me to death and I need not try on more dresses or do anything else for the wedding
until she receives a reply from his eminence.”

“She sent her message to him at Branxholme yesterday, but we do not know if he has arrived there yet,” Anne said. “He may
not do so for another sennight.”

“One of the maidservants whose cousin came here with the party from Branxholme told Molly that Lady Scott’s things were all
packed before they left, so I warrant she has already moved back with her parents at Ferniehirst,” Fiona said.

“Do you not think Sir Christopher is much handsomer than Eustace?”

Fiona shrugged. “Anyone would be,” she said. “The jester is better looking than either of them. However, at least Sir Christopher
talks to me as if I were a person, which Sir Eustace never does. I’ll have no choice anyway, Anne, so what I think about either
of them does not signify in the least.”

Having no wish to agitate her, Anne dropped the subject.

Olivia, too, seemed disinclined now to support either gentleman’s suit, and after nearly a sennight of inactivity, Anne told
Fiona on Saturday morning that she had decided to ride to Ellyson Towers again if only to break the monotony.

“You never used to be bored here, Anne. Have you come to dislike us?”

“No, of course I have not, love. I just need exercise. Why do you not come with me? We’ll take an escort of men to protect
us, ride to the Towers for dinner, and be back long before supper.”

“I do not think Mother will permit it,” Fiona said, but it was clear that the notion of an outing appealed to her. In the
event, however, her assessment of Olivia’s reaction proved correct. She would not hear of such an outing.

“I cannot think what gets into you, Anne, that you must always be tempting fate as you do,” she scolded. “But I will not permit
you to lead Fiona into danger. One of the lads told me only an hour ago that Henry’s troops crossed the line near Larriston
Fells yesterday and burned a whole village to the ground.”

“We would take an armed escort, Aunt Olivia,” Anne said. “Larriston Fells is miles from here.”

“Only fifteen miles, which is not nearly enough,” Olivia retorted. “You are not to take Fiona outside our wall, so let that
be an end to it.”

As they left the chamber, Fiona said, “I told you she would not let me go.”

“Well, I still mean to, just as soon as I collect my cloak and gloves,” Anne said. “I simply must have some exercise.”

“But the danger! Really, Anne, you should not.”

“I’ll take some men with me, love. I’m sure I shan’t need them, but I know they’ll make your mother feel easier about my going.”

“Are you going to tell her?” Fiona asked.

“I don’t think so. You may certainly do so if she asks you.”

“I won’t, but I am glad you mean to take an escort,” Fiona said.

Anne did not want to burden herself with one, but she likewise had no wish to cross swords with an angry Kit Chisholm, and
she was certain he had meant every word he said to her on the subject. She would take the escort.

However, when she made her wishes known to the stablemaster a short time later, she discovered that Olivia had already sent
him explicit orders.

He said bluntly, “I canna send any o’ my lads wi’ ye, m’lady. I ken ye may still be determined tae go, but the mistress said
ye’re no tae endanger anyone else.”

Anne hesitated. Henry of England’s armies had been threatening the area for so long that it was hard to believe they threatened
more danger one day than any other. Still, the unexpected could happen, as her last expedition had proved.

On that thought, Kit’s image leaped to mind. Deciding she would be wiser not to annoy him just when he seemed on the brink
of doing as she had asked by marrying Fiona, she submitted gracefully and returned to the house.

Being stuck at Mute Hill irritated her, but she and Fiona rejoined Olivia in her bower, and when Malcolm entered shortly before
noon to announce the arrival of Eustace, his nephew, and his new jester, Anne was glad she had decided to stay.

“What a pleasant surprise,” Olivia declared as the gentlemen made their bows. “We mean to dine soon, so if you want to wash
the dirt of your journey away whilst Malcolm warns the kitchen and sets extra places, you may do so at once.”

Anne was not pleased to see Eustace but felt a rush of pleasure at seeing Kit.

Fiona said shyly, “You are all most welcome. We were feeling rather moped, particularly Anne, but I know Mad Jake will make
us laugh, won’t you, Jake?”

Kit had caught Anne’s gaze the moment Malcolm showed them into the room, and he raised his eyebrows now, saying, “Moped, Lady
Anne? But the weather has vastly improved. I should think these sunny days would please you.”

“They are beautiful,” she agreed, wishing he would not look at her so intently.

“She was going to ride to Ellyson Towers,” Fiona said, ignoring Anne’s quick headshake. “But Mother would not let me go with
her, nor would she let her take any of our men along, so Anne decided to stay home.”

Kit looked directly into Anne’s eyes as he said, “How wise of her. I am sure that Lady Carmichael was wise, too. We heard
rumors—”

“Yes,” Anne interjected, having no wish to hear more about English Harry. “We heard the rumors, too, sir. But you must be
wondering if we have had news from Branxholme. I do not think my aunt has heard from his eminence yet.”

Kit’s wry smile told her he did not relish the abrupt diversion but understood her reason for it. Then his expression warmed,
and it was as if he had touched her.

“I’ve had no word yet, but I expect Cardinal Beaton will reply soon,” Olivia said, recalling them to the moment. Turning to
Eustace, she added, “Do you mean to extend us the pleasure of your company overnight, sir?”

“Indeed I do, madam.” He shot an ardent look at Fiona, adding, “Doubtless, you are flattered to have two such devoted suitors,
puss, but pleased as I am to be here, I own that my coming was but an impulse. I had formed the notion of sending a lad to
discover if you had heard yet from Beaton, and when Jake offered to carry the message, because he wanted to visit kinsmen
in the area, Kit decided to ride with him for the exercise.” With a teasing laugh, he added, “I could scarcely let my competitor
ride over without coming myself.”

Fiona gazed blankly at him, so Anne said hastily, “We were saying only this morning how quiet the house has seemed since everyone
left.”

“Won’t you play us a tune, Jake?” Fiona said, smiling kindly at the jester.

“He can entertain us whilst we eat our dinner,” Olivia said. “I am persuaded that the gentlemen would like time to tidy themselves
first.”

They did so, and when everyone gathered again at the high table, their number had grown to include Toby and Lord Berridge,
both of whom expressed pleasure at seeing the visitors.

Laughing, Toby said, “Couldn’t stay away longer than a sennight, eh? Well, I don’t mind admitting I missed Mad Jake’s tales
and tunes. Play us one now, lad.”

“Aye, sir, gladly.” Jake pulled his stool near the fireplace and took his lute in hand. Its light notes accompanied their
conversation while they ate their meal.

Although the entire household had gathered, as usual, for the main meal of the day, the servants and men-at-arms ate quickly,
and with the privacy screen in place, those at the high table could converse without being watched or overheard by anyone
other than the servants who waited on them.

Olivia soon turned to the matter on everyone’s mind. “I have been thinking about what you said, Sir Eustace,” she began, smiling
at that gentleman.

“Which comment in particular, my lady?” he asked.

“About Fiona’s having two suitors,” she said. “I do realize we have not yet received a decision from his eminence, but it
has become clear to me which way he must decide, and I believe it is always best to avoid furthering false hope. We have come
to be friends, sir, and I should like us to remain so, but I am afraid that if you continue to believe Cardinal Beaton will
decide in your favor, you will be disappointed, because your nephew’s claim must supersede yours.”

Clearly unperturbed, he returned her smile, saying, “I refuse to give up hope until the decision is made. That is not my way,
and I believe you are mistaken.”

“When things are wrong, sir, they must be set right,” Olivia said. “And so I shall tell his eminence. Indeed, I did tell him
as much in the letter I sent him. I am sorry if that distresses you, but as I said, I do not want to foster false hope.”

“It is not false, madam, and thus you do not cast me down. This is excellent beef. You must hope that the local reivers never
learn how good it is.”

Jake missed a note but quickly recovered.

Never one to let a serious conversation last long, Toby made a joke about the reivers, and when Berridge aided his efforts
to promote conversation of a more cheerful nature, the banter among the three older men grew so cheerful that Olivia soon
bestirred herself to call them to order.

“That jest was not suitable for my ears, uncle, let alone for such innocent ears as Fiona’s,” she warned. “Pray, recall that
I am in mourning, and reserve such humor for the other gentlemen.”

Toby rolled his eyes. “Have done with your mourning, lass! Had Stephen been here, he would never have allowed it to go on
so long, particularly not once he saw that you’d so far forgot your grief for him as to topple head over ears—”

“That will do,” Olivia interjected coldly.

Caught up short for once, Toby looked ruefully at Kit but said only, “Just so, not a conversation for this company. I say,
Eustace, you will be astounded to know that that damned fox is still in the house. Yesterday, Cook nearly caught him on her
chopping block, devouring a whole chicken she’d meant for our supper.”

Olivia excused herself a few minutes later, commanding Fiona and Anne to accompany her to her bower. “We will leave the gentlemen
to their claret and their silly, sordid stories,” she said.

“May we invite Jake to come and play for us, madam?” Fiona asked.

“I suppose he can as easily strum his lute in there as in here,” Olivia said, signing to the jester to accompany them. “You
must work on your stitchery though, Fiona. Lazy girls are in small demand as wives.”

Fiona nodded submissively, and the three retired to her ladyship’s bower. However, when Jake began to sing an amusing song,
Olivia stopped him.

“That may be what you are accustomed to sing at Hawks Rig,” she said austerely, “but it will not do for Mute Hill House. You
will respect my wishes by playing more somber tunes appropriate to our state of mourning.”

“Oh, Mother, really,” Fiona protested.

“That will be enough, Fiona. Find your work and get to it.”