Arsenic and Old Armor (23 page)

Two steps away, she stopped, whirled around,
and went back to look again at what she thought she had seen.
Marion’s hand shook as she pushed aside the cushions and lifted the
top a second time. There was no mistaking it. There was definitely
a man inside.

Well dressed, but definitely, undeniably
dead.

A tight weave of clouds filled the night
sky, blocking any light from the waning moon. The air was heavy
with the smell of rain. Iain hoped he still had time to do an
inspection of the outer walls of the castle and send his men on
their way before the storms moved in.

Twelve years ago, they had faced the
possibility of the English following the wounded Scots after the
devastating battle at Flodden Field. The victorious army had indeed
moved northward, but had bypassed the Borders for the easier going
through the Lowlands. Still, no one knew what the English would do,
so Iain had not bothered with defending the tower house. He
couldn’t, and with the McCall warriors almost wiped out in the
battle, they couldn’t defend it, either. Instead, he’d moved the
remaining occupants and the unprotected villagers on McCall land to
Blackthorn Hall for a short time. Iain hadn’t worried about
defending Fleet Tower then, but he was a little worried now.

He chose three of the men to go with him as
he made his rounds.

Tom and John, the two Armstrong men, were
frequent visitors to Fleet Tower. They were the most likely pair to
walk with the laird and offer their opinion. Alan was the most
experienced fighter of all of his men. He’d served Iain’s father
and he’d been a loyal friend and servant to Iain ever since.

“
The only way anyone
arrives at Fleet Tower is by traveling on that road,” Tom assured
Iain as they walked along the top of the curtain walls.

“
To get in, they must come
through the main gate,” John said. “The ditch around the walls
makes it difficult to scale them.”

“
And you’d see them,” Alan
said, “if we lit torches along the walls.”

“
Once we lower the
portcullis, m’lord,” Tom said, “there’d be no one coming
in.”

“
We’ll be snug here until
Alan comes back with more men in the morning,” John
added.

Iain nodded. He knew Fleet Tower was not
defensible against any attack by a large army. Walls could be
scaled or battered down with the new cannon the English were so
proud of. But the English weren’t the ones that concerned Iain. It
was Jack Fitzwilliam. Enough Armstrong men had been scouring these
hills this past week, though, and there had been no reports of
seeing Marion’s outlaw cousin.

“
The men are tired,
m’lord,” Alan reminded him as they continued their walk. “They’re a
wee bit anxious to get back to their kin before it’s too
late.”

“
I understand that,” Iain
assured his man. “I’ll dismiss them as soon as I can. But before
anyone leaves Fleet Tower, I’ll be sure that every crack in the
wall is sealed.”

Everyone agreed.

Marion covered her mouth to stifle her
scream. The man’s eyes were open. He was staring at her. Partially
propped up in the cramped area, his neck was twisted oddly. He was
middle-aged. No one that she knew. Marion’s gaze moved down to the
dead man’s clothing.

“
An Englishman.” She closed
the window seat, pushed the pillows back over the top, and stood
back. She couldn’t tear her gaze away.

“
But it can’t be. I must be
feverish. It’s the excitement.” She touched her forehead. It did
indeed feel hot. She had to be imagining this. She stepped over to
the window seat again and without removing anything, she lifted the
lid a little and peeked in. It wasn’t her imagination. He was still
there.

“
He’s done it. He’s finally
gone through with his threats.” She let the top drop and jumped
back as it closed with a bang. Iain was right. All games and good
humor aside, William had become truly dangerous. He needed to be
taken away someplace where he couldn’t harm anyone else.

“
Oh, my God. Uncle William
has killed a man.” She put a hand on her pounding head as the
realization finally sank in. This corpse was probably one of the
guests at her wedding. One of the missing men from the English
court.

Marion heard footsteps coming into the room.
She whirled around. It was Judith carrying in another platter.

“
Aunt Judith?” Marion
called out in a strained voice.

Her aunt placed the platter on the table
before turning around. “Yes, dear, I know. You haven’t been able to
find the linens or the knives. Margaret and I were just talking
about it in the kitchen. She thought we might have moved them
upstairs into the earl’s old chambers, for safekeeping. But I said
no, they’re still down here.”

“
Aunt Judith,” Marion said
more sharply.

“
Very well, dear, I’ll help
you look for them,” she said pleasantly, looking for the first time
at her. “What’s wrong with you, Marion? You look as if you’ve seen
a ghost.”

She had. Not a ghost, but
the body of a dead man. “There is nothing wrong with
me
,” Marion said more
sharply than she had intended. But it didn’t matter. “I’d like to
talk to you about Sir William.”

“
I don’t think he’ll join
us for supper. You can ask him again, though, if you
want.”

Marion shook her head. “I don’t care about
supper. What I want to say is that I think it’s time Uncle William
was sent to a place where there are people who can take care of
him. Watch him all the time.”

“
But why?” Judith asked,
shaking her head. “We’re not dead yet, you know.”

“
Yes, I know, and thank the
Lord for that.”

Marion’s mind jumped to what William might
be capable of doing. He’d killed once. He could kill again.
Anytime, anyone…even his own kin. The poor man lived in a state of
confusion all the time. Iain said Brother Luke had been frightened
by her uncle just today. Then he hadn’t recognized her, his own
niece.

“
Tonight! Perhaps we could
have him taken away tonight.” Marion realized she had said the
words aloud.

“
Who’ll be taken away
tonight?”

Aunt Margaret stood in the doorway, a
platter of steaming meat pies in her hands. Marion was relieved to
see her older aunt. It was so much easier to talk to her than
Judith.

“
Sir William,” Marion
answered.

“
Marion just said thank the
Lord we are not dead yet,” Judith said pleasantly. “You see,
Margaret? She is still the same affectionate child as
before.”

“
That is so nice of you, my
dear.” Margaret put her platter down on the table.

Why was it that they chose to hear each
other and not her? Marion wondered. She thought about the man in
the window seat and decided to try again. The two were chattering
away about the dinner settings.

“
Oh, you haven’t set the
table yet,” Margaret noticed.

“
She couldn’t find the
linens or the knives,” Judith answered.

“
I told you, they’re
upstairs.” Margaret shook a finger at her sister. “I’ll go up and
get them.”

“
No. No,” Marion said,
moving to block her aunt’s path. “You’re not going anywhere until
we settle this.”

“
I can go up and get what
we need,” Judith offered.

“
No.” She motioned to them
to stay where they were. “Neither of you are going anywhere until I
am done talking.”

“
She still has her temper,”
Margaret whispered to her sister.

“
Definitely, the same
temper.” Judith shook her head in disapproval.

“
Please,” Marion snapped.
She stamped her foot on the floor. “Please don’t talk. Just
listen.”

The two women exchanged a knowing look.
Judith tried to say something, but at the sight of Marion’s finger
pointing at her, she quieted down.

“
You need to hear what I
have to tell you about Uncle William,” Marion spoke in what she
hoped was a calm tone. Taking her aunts by the hand, she led them
both to the settee by the fire. “Please sit down."

“
Very well, dear. But I
really think we ought to—”

“
When Iain comes back in
here from dismissing his men, I’m going to ask him to take Sir
William away to a monastery he knows. I’m going to ask him to take
him there right away. Now, I want your agreement to
that.”

“
But why, dear?” Margaret
asked.

“
We’re not dead yet,”
Judith added.

“
No, we are not dead,”
Margaret agreed. “And Brother Luke said just this afternoon that
someone should look after William after we are dead.”

“
Only after.” Judith nodded
with finality.

“
Not after. Now.” Marion
shook her head adamantly at the two older women. “I am going to try
to explain everything once. Only once. So you need to listen. In
fact…” She paused, remembering William, the person truly
responsible for this havoc. “Let’s bring Sir William into the great
hall so that I can explain everything to all of you.”

“
But he won’t come,”
Margaret said.

“
He certainly won’t,”
Judith agreed.

“
If you ask him, he will.
I’m certain you must know how to pique his interest.
Please.”

“
Nothing will convince
him,” Margaret said, shrugging her shoulders
indifferently.

Judith agreed. “He’s down in the dungeon
making room for a new recruit. He won’t eat or drink or do anything
else until he is done with that. His army comes first, you
know.”

Margaret nodded.

“
Very well, then we shall
discuss his fate without him,” Marion asserted. “The time has come.
You two have taken care of him for too long. He needs to be sent
away to a place where he will be safe.”
And where everyone else will be safe, too
, she thought silently. “This has to happen
tonight.”

“
No, that cannot happen.
Not tonight, not tomorrow, nor a month from now,” Margaret said,
lifting her chin stubbornly. “He is not going anywhere until after
we are gone.”

“
Not until we’re gone,”
Judith repeated.

At least they’d heard what she'd told them,
Marion thought. That was certainly an improvement. The image of the
body in the window seat suddenly came to mind. After William’s
arrangements were made, there were much more serious problems that
she had to see to. She had to use whatever it took to win this
battle quickly so she could start fighting the next.

Marion planted her hands on her hips. She
pushed all the soft emotions she carried for her aunts aside and
focused on the disaster she had to get all of them out of. Hurt
feelings could be mended later.

“
The decision is not yours,
but mine. As the McCall heir and as the wife of the Armstrong
laird, I say Sir William must be moved to a different place. That
is the end of this discussion.”

“
That is a terrible thing,”
Margaret said brokenly.

“
Terrible,” Judith
repeated.

Marion told herself she was a fool to assume
it would be that simple.

Margaret took a kerchief out of the pocket
of her skirt and dabbed under each eye. “Why are you doing this,
Marion?”

“
Why?” Judith asked in a
grieving tone.

“
How could you break up
your family for no reason?” Margaret said tearfully.

“
No reason,” Judith
repeated.

“
And after so many years of
us all being separated. Just when we could be a family again.” The
older woman wiped away more tears.

“
I want my family,” Judith
cried, taking the kerchief out of Margaret’s hand and blowing her
nose in it. She handed it back.

Guilt clawed its way up inside of her, but
Marion told herself to stay calm. Stay firm. This was the right
thing to do. Everyone had to be kept safe. That was first and
foremost.

The two women’s sobs got louder. Marion
glanced at the window seat. She supposed that it was inevitable
that these two gentle souls would need to learn of the present
their brother had left in the window seat for the family.

“
Listen, Aunt Margaret,
Aunt Judith. There is something else that I haven’t told
you.”

They both stopped their tears.

“
More secrets?” Margaret
asked, interested.

“
Good secrets or bad
secrets?” Judith asked.

“
Unfortunately, it’s a bad
secret. But there is no getting around it. You must know,” Marion
said calmly. Two pairs of red rimmed eyes were fixed on
her.

“
For as long as I can
remember, we all have encouraged Sir William to pretend to be
William Wallace. And we always thought of him as a totally harmless
man.”

“
He
is
harmless,” both sisters said at
once.

“
He
was
harmless. No longer.” Marion
shook her head. “That is why he must be taken away.”

Margaret stuffed the handkerchief back
inside her pocket. “You only arrived back tonight. What has he done
to have you turn against him so quickly?”