Amanda Scott - [Border Trilogy 2] (15 page)

“I don’t mind at all,” Amalie said. “I’d rather have warmth.”

Smiling at Meg, Jenny went on. “Wat’s room also has the best window. ’Tis a shot window, like the two by the fireplace. All three overlook the yard and have stout shutters and yetts, so you can secure them well if the place ever comes under siege. It never has,” she added. “It is so well hidden here, I suppose, that only folks in the area know it well.”

“My father knew enough to come a-reiving here,” Meg said.

“Aye, but only in the glen, well away from Scott’s Hall, and not here at the tower,” Jenny reminded her. Opening the door on the other side of the landing, she added, “This is Wat’s room. Since it will also be yours, you’ll want to take a look.”

It was anything but tidy, and Meg remembered how he had cast his clothes off when he had wakened her at the Hall. Clearly, it had not been lust alone that had caused that, for none of his clothes seemed to be put away. They carpeted the floor.

“He is not very orderly,” Jenny observed. “The hall was a mess, too.”

“Aye.” Meg had noted that detail for herself.

“Do you want to see the rest?”

“I think we’d better call the others in and get right to work,” Meg said. “There is enough in what we’ve already seen to keep us busy for a sennight.”

“Aye,” Jenny agreed. “’Tis good that Wat will be away for a while.”

The journey to Elishaw took the rest of the day, because it had taken more time than expected to rally Wat’s forces. He had fifty men, though, without robbing the Hall or Raven’s Law of needed protection, and he had reason to believe they would be enough to send the besiegers running, or at least persuade them to talk.

If he needed help, his father could raise a thousand men quickly by lighting the great emergency signal fires. Men throughout the Borders knew that as well as he did, so he doubted it would take more than a look at the Scott pennon to deter such rabble as he expected to find at Elishaw.

They arrived as the sun dipped below the western horizon.

Tammy, riding beside him, said, “It looks gey peaceful, Master Wat.”

“Aye,” Gibbie agreed. “I dinna see signs o’ a siege, or any activity, come to that. D’ye think the villains set a watch for us and fled when they saw us a-coming?”

“That is possible,” Wat said, but his jaw set grimly.

He did not mention his suspicion to his comrades. But when he saw the gates of Elishaw Castle standing open, he could have growled in vexation.

Wondering if there was reason to keep silent any longer, he glanced at Tam, who also looked grim.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Wat asked him.

“If ye’re thinkin’ that devil’s spawn Murray ha’ brought us here for nowt, then aye, that be what I’m thinkin’.”

“Hoots now, the pair o’ ye,” Gibbie said. “The man may ha’ persuaded the raiders to leave him be. Mayhap he warned ’em that he’d sent for us, so they knew we were a-coming. They’d ken fine that ye’d no fail him.”

Wat did not answer. Briefly, he wondered if he might be riding into a trap, but he dismissed that notion as quickly as it occurred. Murray had sent for him and must realize that Buccleuch would know that he had. And what Buccleuch knew, Douglas would know if it became important or even useful that he should.

All men of the Borders knew Murray was one to avoid confrontation. He would not stir Buccleuch or Douglas to war. His lady wife might, Wat mused sardonically, recalling what Gib and others had said of her. But Murray would not.

As they rode into the courtyard, Wat glanced at the hanging tree. But before he could sort out his feelings about being there again, he saw his father-in-law descending the main steps and drew rein. He did not dismount.

“Welcome to ye, lad,” Murray said heartily. “’Tis glad I am to see ye.”

“Where are your so-fearsome attackers?”

“Aye, well, I can see ye’ve guessed the truth,” Murray said in the same hearty tone. “’Twas nobbut a wee test, sithee, to see if ye’d keep your word. But ye have, and all, and I’m proud to ha’ ye for me good-son, so come in now, all o’ ye. Ye’ll stay the night with us, and we’ll enjoy a fine supper to celebrate our kinship.”

“I’d rather have my cattle and the rest of my horses back,” Wat said.

“Aye, well, we can talk about that, too, if ye like,” Murray said handsomely. “But come inside now, and bring your lads. We’ve plenty for all.”

Wondering if the crafty old devil had roasted Scott beef for the occasion, Wat followed him inside. He knew that his men would appreciate a good meal, a sound sleep, and the knowledge that they could soon go home again.

Having begun at once, with the help of an army of maidservants and gillies from cottages in the cleuch and Rankilburn Glen, Meg and her able assistants amazed even themselves with the progress they made by nightfall.

The few guardsmen Walter had left to keep an eye on his remaining stock and the tower itself had been reluctant at first to help with the cleaning. But a few blunt words from Jenny had set them to work with a will, tidying up the main hall.

“Where do you want them to put all that gear?” Jenny asked Meg.

“Faith, I don’t have a notion,” Meg said. A mental vision of Walter’s men returning and flying into fury when they found none of their belongings where they had left them was daunting. But memory of a kinsman’s castle she had once visited with her parents soon provided a partial solution.

“Gather up all the weapons, targes, and their ilk, and pile them together near the dais,” she said. “Then bring in ladders, as many as you can find.”

While some men went rushing for ladders, others bundled the clothing they found into a pile and stowed it in the guardroom at the foot of the main stairs.

“If they could find their own gear in that mess in the hall, they can sort it out here just as easily,” Jenny said, surveying the resulting pile of clothing.

As ladders came in, gillies raked up the rushes on the hall’s timber floor, carried them out to dry in the sun for burning, and brought in fresh ones from cottars who had cut them from bogs in the glen and dried them in their rafters.

With ladders in place, Meg explained her idea, and men began hanging the weaponry, driving pegs into the masonry between the ashlar stones of the walls and the great chimney.

Lady Scott had sent pillows, coverlets, and other household comforts, employing Jenny’s sumpter ponies to transport them. She had also sent Avis to act as Meg and Amalie’s maidservant until they could find and hire others for themselves.

It had taken no more than the placement of a few pillows to transform the stone benches under the hall’s shot windows into inviting, comfortable seats.

Sym seemed to be everywhere, repeating Meg’s orders to anyone who seemed the least bit confused, while pitching in to help anyone who needed help. Meg was amused to note that the kitten stayed with him, content in its pouch.

Two men had mucked out the pend, while others raked and tidied the yard. Guardsmen had transformed themselves into commanders, and any gillies not raking or hanging weaponry were soon drafted into their bustling army.

The midday meal had been paltry by Meg’s standards but enough to feed her troops. Supper was another matter, requiring thought. But by then she had learned that the tower had plentiful stores, a good cook named Jed Crosier, and flocks of chickens. Also, Janet Scott had had the forethought to send two kitchen maids.

As they sat round the high table that evening, with their exhausted helpers at two long trestles set perpendicularly to the dais, Jenny raised her goblet.

“A toast, my sisters,” she said. “To Raven’s Law. Long may it prosper.”

Meg smiled wearily. “There is still so much to be done. We’ve barely swept the surface. The barmkin needs mending, and a number of other big projects remain to do. I doubt that these lads are up to all of them. We need to find skilled workmen to do a number of things.”

“Wat can attend to all that,” Jenny said. “This sort of thing is infectious, you know. Once one thing looks better, everything around it cries out for attention. That’s exactly how I get Rand to notice things that I want him to do.”

Meg nodded. Her mother had used similar tactics with her father. “We still have nearly the whole of the upper floors to see to. I have not even seen the top floor or the battlements yet.”

“All the floors are swept,” Amalie said. “The parts that show, anyway. And your bedchamber and the ones Jenny and I will use tonight are both tidy enough, thanks to the sheets and coverlets her ladyship sent to us.”

Meg nodded, pleased to see how much more cheerful her sister was after a day and a half away from Scott’s Hall. Even the work they’d done had seemed to help cheer her, but only time would tell how long her good mood would last. In the meantime, Meg focused on what she wanted to accomplish before Walter returned.

She wanted with all her heart to please him. But she could not pretend that her decision to defy him and refurbish Raven’s Law was going to please him at all.

A shiver of anticipation stirred. She looked forward to his return.

By the next day, Wat’s fury with his father-in-law had faded to irritation at the time and energy wasted on a fruitless mission. He was more irked at his inability to persuade Murray even to discuss the return of his kine and horses.

“We had a bargain, lad. Now that ye’ve kept your part, I’ll keep mine,” he said, chortling at his own joke.

That memory and his annoyance lingered all the way back to Scott’s Hall. But as he rode into the courtyard that evening, his thoughts shifted to Meg, and he decided to spend the night with her.

His father was right. He had a duty to produce an heir. In times of such uncertainty, whole families of men had fallen in one great battle. Thus had they left their hard-won estates and other chattel, including wives and children, to fall under the control of other powerful men. He had two well-trusted brothers who could assume his position, but no one could guarantee that they would outlive him.

Even one son was not enough. He should sire a dozen.

With this noble thought in mind, he strode into the hall to find only his mother and father at the high table. They had finished their supper and were lingering there, enjoying each other’s company.

“You’re back much sooner than I’d expected,” Buccleuch said.

“The old devil was just testing me,” Wat said. “Seemed mighty pleased with himself, too. He refused even to discuss returning my beasts.”

“But you stayed the night?”

“Aye, he would have it that we should. In troth, the lads were grateful for a hot meal and pallets by the hall fire to sleep on.”

“We had visitors today,” Buccleuch said, frowning thoughtfully.

Wat bent to kiss his mother’s cheek but looked narrowly at his father as he did. “Visitors? More raiders?”

“Aye, I caught them on our land in the Forest, skinning a roe. Their leader is a glib fellow. He insisted that they hunted with the Douglas’s permission and asked me with amiable politeness what right I had to interfere. I did not recognize any of them, but they were helping themselves to wood as well as to deer.”

“Jamie Douglas would not send them without telling you,” Wat protested.

“I know, but I had only twenty men with me. They had a few more than that, and whilst I’d back mine against any others, I did recall that Jamie wants no fratching. So I explained that they were trespassing and that even the Douglas’s permission to hunt did not permit them to take wood as well. I also said that, as Ranger of Ettrick Forest, without his having warned me they would be there, I could not let them take the deer. They left peaceably, but I sensed trouble nonetheless.”

“Doubtless you were right,” Wat said. “’Tis as well that I came back when I did. But one does wonder now if Murray had aught to do with your visitors. His demand that I go to him certainly proved helpful to them, so mayhap we should put the possibility to Jamie at the wardens’ meeting next week.”

“I’ll tell him about this little confrontation in any event,” Buccleuch said.

“Where are the lasses?” Wat asked as he took a place beside his mother.

She touched his cheek but said nothing, so he turned to his father.

“Not here, I’m afraid,” Buccleuch replied.

“What do you mean, not here? I thought Jenny meant to stay a few days.”

“Aye, well, she is helping Margaret,” Buccleuch said.

“Helping?” A frisson of unease shot through him. “Is aught amiss?”

“Oh, no. Jenny just thought she might help her set Raven’s Law in order.”

“What!”

Buccleuch nodded. “I thought you’d be pleased. The task will take less time if you all put your minds to it. I should not waste much time either, lad. God only knows how long you’ll have before Douglas sends for you.”

“I’ll have time enough,” Wat growled, getting to his feet again.

“Time enough for what?” his mother asked.

“To teach Margaret to obey her husband and to throttle Jenny,” he snapped. “And
don’t
tell me this is none of Jenny’s meddling, because I won’t believe you.”

Neither of his parents said a word as he strode angrily to the door.

Chapter 11

He threw off his jacket, wi’ harness well lined; He threw off his bonnet well belted wi’ steel . . .

W
at hurried to the yard, where he shouted for a fresh horse. Leaving orders for his men to follow when they finished supper, he set off at once for Raven’s Law.

Dusk was closing in on Buck Cleuch by the time he rode through the gates of the barmkin, which swung open as soon as the guards recognized him.

His temper had not eased one whit. He would be master of his own household if he had to throttle every woman in it.

As he thought about throttling Meg and visualized touching her, instead of hands around her scheming neck, he remembered only how soft and silky her skin felt to his fingertips and palms. Telling himself that such thinking would not do, especially as the memory stirred sensations in more places than his hands, he reminded himself that there was more than one way to master a woman.

Men came running to take his horse, but none dared to ask why he was in such a hurry. No one asked any questions at all, nor did he speak to them.

He strode through the pend and upstairs to the main hall.

As he crossed its threshold, he saw the three of them sitting at the dais table at the end near the hearth, where a fire crackled. Just then, Jenny said something and Margaret burst into laughter, stopping him in his tracks.

She threw back her head, revealing her smooth, milky white throat, and her laughter was as musical as her speaking voice. Laughing so, she looked like a different woman from the prim, plain one he had married. Before his eyes, she became Meg again, the warm and generous woman he had found in his bed.

He glanced at Amalie, and saw that she, too, was smiling, albeit not laughing with such abandon as Meg. He caught Meg’s eye next, stopping her laughter as abruptly as if he had clapped a hand to her mouth.

Returning to her usual sober self, she eyed him warily but said not a word.

Sym sat not far away from her, on the dais step, likewise watching him.

Jenny turned toward him then and, never daunted, said, “Godamercy, Wat, is the Elishaw siege over so soon? We did not expect you for at least a sennight.”

“I believe you,” he said, grim again, his self-imposed intent recalled. “I hope you did not bring much with you, because you’re going back to the Hall at once.”

Margaret spoke then, saying, “Surely not at this hour, sir. There have been more raids, for one thing, and for another—”

“Madam, you would do better to hold your tongue,” he said. “Better yet, await me in my bedchamber. I am sure you know where it is.”

“To be sure, she does,” Jenny said lightly. “She slept there last night, just as she would be doing every night, but for—”

“That’s enough,” he snapped, determined to keep her from influencing his wife more than she already had. “Go upstairs, Margaret. Amalie, you may go with her. I’ll acquit you of any part in this, but you’d be wise to seek your room and stay in it for now. We are not going to be very good company for you tonight.”

Amalie got up at once and hurried toward the stairs. After another, rather searching look at him, Margaret followed her with Sym hurrying behind.

“Do you mean to murder me or just beat me?” his sister said, standing to face him before the others had reached the threshold. “Because, I would remind you—”

“Keep your reminders and suggestions to yourself if you want to survive this night with a whole skin,” he retorted, keeping his hands clenched at his sides.

She had stirred his temper often, but he could not recall ever being as angry with her as he was now. He did not question his fury, but he did mean to control it.

“You will leave as soon as I can provide an escort to see you safely back to the Hall. But I tell you now, Jen—and I won’t warn you twice—if you
ever
meddle again between my wife and me, I will tell Rand exactly what you have done.”

Her mouth opened in astonishment. “You wouldn’t!”

“I would, and if you think Randolph Kerr will support your meddling in another man’s marriage, even mine, you had better think again.”

“He loves me.”

“Do you think he would side with you in this?”

“Of course he would! He is my husband!”

Wat did not reply. He just waited, giving her time for her thoughts to catch up with her hasty tongue.

At last, she shut her eyes, drew a deep breath, opened them again and said ruefully, “He would be furious with me. You know he would.”

“Aye, so get your things. I’ll walk out to the yard with you. You may tell anyone who asks that, as my lady no longer needs you to bear her company, you mean to continue your visit with our parents. No one will think aught of that.”

“Very well.” She put a hand on his arm. “Don’t be too harsh with her, Wat. Meg has a right to be here. You know she does.”

He did not intend to discuss his wife with her, so he said only, “Go and get whatever you need, Jenny. The light is fast fading. But if you must go upstairs for anything, do not try to talk to Margaret.”

She nodded, and he knew by the haste with which she returned that she had obeyed him. He knew, too, that he had impressed her for once with his anger.

Since it was rare that he, or anyone else, could make her change her point of view, he acknowledged some small satisfaction, but only to himself and only with strong awareness that her remorse, if it was remorse, would be short-lived.

Jenny meddled as naturally as she breathed.

He saw her off, thanking her politely for assisting his lady. Then he strode back into the tower, determined to wring his lady’s slender white neck.

He managed to hold that thought in his mind until he reached his bedchamber, lifted the latch, and opened the door. At that moment, however, the breath stopped in his throat for the second time in less than an hour.

Apparently, she had not heard the latch, for she stood by the washstand, using the cloth to wash her face. In the light of several candles, her hair was the rich dark brown of a pine marten’s summer coat, gleaming with golden highlights. It covered her to her bottom, the cheeks of which peeped pinkly below it.

Her long, slender, shapely legs were likewise bare.

He swallowed and felt his cock grow hard. Believing he would accomplish nothing if he let lust rule his mind, he shut his eyes, pictured her father’s gloating face after the success of his ruse, and thoroughly vanquished his lust. When he had control again, he focused on the top of her head and cleared his throat.

She jumped nearly out of her skin and turned around, one hand clasped over her heart. “I did not hear you come in!” she exclaimed. “Faith, but I thought it was the lads with the tub, although I did tell Sym to have them wait half an hour.”

He fixed his eyes on hers. “What tub?”

“I thought you would want a bath after spending so much of these past two days in the saddle. Was there no siege at Elishaw after all?”

“No,” he said shortly, determined not to lower his gaze. Even looking into her eyes did not help, though. His field of vision at that distance easily noted the soft fullness of her breasts, the smallness of her waist, and the enticing flare of her hips. “Put something on, lest those lads do come along,” he said gruffly.

She nodded and picked up her shift from the bed, slipping it on over her head and putting her arms into its sleeves. The gathered, low-cut neckline gaped open, revealing almost as much breast as he’d seen before.

Leaving the ribbons untied, she picked up the robe that had lain on the bed next to the shift and put that on as well. As she did, he caught sight of her right breast again, nearly the whole of it, teasing his senses through the deep vee opening. He wanted to tell her to tie her ribbons properly, but he did not trust his voice.

He watched until she had finished tying the robe’s sash around her slim waist. Then, summoning up his anger again, he said, “Perhaps you did not understand me when I said you should stay at the Hall with my parents.”

“I did understand,” she said, meeting his gaze too easily, as if his expression were not nearly as severe as he had hoped. “You said I should not come here, so I expect you are angry that I did.”

“Angry?” Memory of his earlier fury stirred it anew. “Must I remind you yet again that I am your husband, madam? If I say you are to stay somewhere, I expect you to stay there. I do
not
expect you to defy my commands.”

“I suppose it was defiance,” she said thoughtfully. “It did not seem so at the time. It just seemed to be the right decision. Jenny said that you—”

“You’ve no need to tell me Jenny lies at the bottom of this,” he said. “I know she cannot see a situation without believing she knows best what to do about it. She has a knack for meddling, does our Jenny, and she is most persuasive. Nevertheless, Margaret, I shall expect you to resist such persuasion after this.”

“I am sure you are right, sir.”

Deciding that he had not yet made himself clear, he said forcefully, “I know I am right. Jenny’s a damned meddler, and you are
not
to allow it.”

He said more in that vein and more still about her defiance of his wishes, exerting himself to speak his mind so clearly that she could not misunderstand him.

She listened respectfully, encouraging him by nodding her head as if she agreed with everything he said. But when he said, “I knew from the start whose idea it was. Do not think I did not, for I knew at once that it was all Jenny,” she replied, “Oh, no, I don’t think that is fair to say.”

“Not fair? What do you mean, not fair?” he demanded, taking a step toward her, his hands itching to catch her by her shoulders and give her a good shake. “You admitted as much yourself not five minutes ago. First you agreed that you had defied me and then that I was right about its being Jenny’s idea.”

“Well, as to that—”

“There is no ‘as to that.’ It is plain fact. Do you mean to say now that Jenny did
not
persuade you and that you did not defy me?”

“Jenny has been most kind to me, and to Amalie,” she said. “She did point out that a siege could last weeks if not longer, and I knew that you wanted to put things in order here. I mentioned that to her, but it was not all her idea to come here. I wanted to come before I met her. You know I did, because we discussed it.”

“Aye, we did, and you know what I said then, too. Moreover, you will not say that Jenny did not urge you to do it despite what I’d said, whilst I was away.”

“She suggested that I had a right to help you tidy up Raven’s Law,” she said. “We knew that even if you returned sooner than we expected, you might have to leave again straightaway. We all know that the Douglas will organize his army soon to meet the English. That could happen any day, they said.”

“You mean Jenny said.”

“Why, no, sir. It was your father who said that. Moreover, you had said as much, yourself. But your father saw naught amiss in our coming here, and your mother sent servants to help us. She even sent blankets, linens, and other things.”

Her reasonable manner made it difficult to argue with her, although he had a sense that there was more to it than she had admitted, especially as Jenny had not denied her part in it or tried to diminish it. Still, he could not help noting that his bedchamber was tidier than it had ever been. The bed was made, the floor clear of clothing and swept, the kists all in their places, and the washstand tidy.

He’d wager a good sum of money that the ewer even held water.

Memory stirred of the scene in the main hall, and he realized it had been tidy, too. He had a notion that someone had even changed the rushes. He recalled things hanging on the chimney wall, weapons and such, laid out in patterns. Not only had it looked impressive, but the lads would easily find their belongings there.

Margaret had changed, too. She seemed confident. As that thought darted through his mind, he noticed that she had still not tied the ribbons of her shift.

His loins stirred suggestively.

Mentioning his parents had apparently silenced him. Although he had frowned, Meg saw his expression soften now and felt a measure of relief. She did not want to fight with him, but the more she had seen of Raven’s Law, the stronger her need had grown to turn it into a home. If he were to send her back to the Hall now, as he had sent Jenny, the defeat would be more than she could bear.

The look in his eyes intensified, bringing certain nerve endings in her body to life. She licked suddenly dry lips.

The quick rat-a-tat on the door startled them both.

With a growl, Walter turned, snapped up the latch, and jerked the door open.

Sym stood on the landing.

From across the room, Meg saw the lad’s eyes widen at seeing Walter before catching sight of her. But he squared his shoulders, touched the squirming pouch at his belt gently, and said, “Beg pardon, Master Wat—Sir Walter, I should say—but your water be hot. The men be wondering if they should bring up yon tub now.”

Walter glanced back at her, deciding. So Meg smiled and said, “You will be more comfortable after you have rid yourself of your travel dirt, sir.”

“I will, aye,” he said. “Very well, Sym, tell them to bring it up.”

As the boy turned away, Walter shut the door again and said, “I liked the way you arranged my men’s weapons, targes, and such on the wall of the hall. What did you do with all the other trappings they left in there?”

“We stowed them in that wee chamber at the bottom of the stairs.”

“The guards’ room?”

“I expect that is it,” she said. “It is quite small. I hope it was not wrong to put everything there. We just thought— That is, I thought it would be easier for them to find their belongings if we put everything in one place. All their clothes and such were scattered about, and we had no way to know what belonged to whom, so—”

She stopped because he was shaking his head, but with a twinkle in his eyes. “I see changes coming,” he said. “Doubtless, we’ll all have to mend our ways.”

“I hope—”

“Don’t say it, lass. You are right to try to impose order here. It has been missing far too long. I own, I did not care about keeping everything tidy, but I should have, because it makes for better discipline. It looked much more welcoming when I came in tonight. You have done well. Now, come here.”