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Authors: Amanda Scott

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BOOK: Border Storm
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A thin, wiry little boy came running to take the dun’s reins, saying cheerfully, “Aye, Sir Hugh, I’ll look after him.”

“See that you do, lad,” Rowan said, dismounting and reaching out a hand to tousle the boy’s dark, curly hair.

Andrew nodded without comment.

As the boy turned away toward the stable with the dun gelding, Hugh strode to the stone steps leading to the castle entrance. Taking them and the spiral stairs inside two at a time, he entered the great hall, where he found serving lads scurrying about in response to sharp commands issued by a frail-looking lady of indeterminate years who sat rigidly upright in his armchair at the high table.

Her elaborately dressed hair was such an improbable shade of red as to make him suspect that, like the Queen, she wore a wig. Her face was heavily made up to look fashionably pale with pink cheeks, red lips, and dark lashes and brows. Her clothing was rich looking and fashionable with beaded and jeweled trim.

She peered toward him myopically, frowned as if to reprove his hasty entrance. Then she smiled, saying in a high, bright, carefully cultured voice, “Why, you must be Sir Hugh!”

“I am Hugh Graham, madam,” he affirmed with a nod, adding as he doffed his steel helmet and handed it, along with his steel-and-leather gauntlets and his sword belt, to a lackey, “May I inquire who escorted you here to Brackengill?”

“Why, I escorted myself, sir.”

“Perhaps my people did not explain that this house lacks a proper hostess, madam. Indeed, there are no women here, barring the cook and her small daughter. I’ll gladly provide you with an escort to Bewcastle, where I am persuaded that Lady Nixon will see to your every comfort.”

“It is your lack of a hostess that brings me here,” the lady replied.

Hugh stared at her, wondering if she was mad.

“But, there,” she said, “I can see that you do not know who I am, and I warrant no one could blame you for that, since it must be fifteen years since you last clapped eyes on me.”

She paused with birdlike expectancy, clearly assuming that she had provided sufficient information about her identity for him to deduce it.

Bewildered, he said, “I crave pardon, madam, but I have no idea who you are. It does not matter, in any event, since it is patently unsuitable for you to remain overnight. I will have my lads carry your things outside to your sumpter ponies, although perhaps I should provide fresh ones if you’ve traveled any distance today.”

“Today I traveled from Carlisle, sir. I traveled there from London in my coach, however, with a wagon to bear my baggage. A dreadful, rough journey it was, too. I feel obliged to inform you that your roads hereabouts are deplorable—where you have roads—but I have resolved not to complain about them.”

“They are tracks rather than roads, I’m afraid,” Hugh admitted.

“Yes, and because of them, although the distance I traveled today is not so great, I had to leave my coach in Carlisle and hire sumpters, saddle horses, and two men-at-arms to protect me and my tirewoman. Thus, I am worn to the bone from riding, and I am persuaded that you will not wish to turn your own aunt out again under such circumstances. Now, will you, sir?” She smiled sweetly.

Hugh had all he could do to conceal his shock. “My aunt? Lady Marjory? But how can that be, madam? Surely, my uncle Brampton—”

“Dead, I’m afraid,” Lady Marjory Brampton said with a sigh.

“When?”

She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I am afraid I have lost track of time during this dreadful trip, my dear sir. I believe it must be quite four months now, though.”

Hugh stared at her, speechless. At last, he said, “If it has been as long as that, someone should have informed me. Do you not know the date of his death?”

“Why, yes, how clever of you to think of that! It was the fourth of April. Moreover, it was a Sunday. I remember the day distinctly, because I had just got home from services when they told me that your uncle had collapsed and died. So, you see, it has been more than four months. I did think that someone would have informed you by now, but of course, there always are complex matters to attend to in such cases, and being a man of law himself and so often with the Queen, Brampton was not accustomed to putting his own affairs in anyone else’s hands.”

“But I have written to him twice in that time,” Hugh protested. “The second time was scarcely a month ago! I am surprised that you did not reply to my letters yourself, madam, if only to explain why my uncle was unable to do so.”

“Oh, I could not. I would never presume to read his letters, you see, and I was quite utterly devastated. For a fortnight, I was unable even to see people. My daughters live with their husbands in places quite distant from London, and—”

“Surely, not so distant as Cumberland,” Hugh muttered.

She had quick ears, for she said, “Oh, no, not so far as this! Still, they were unable to come to my support at once, you see, and although I did return to Southampton with my daughter Sarah, that situation did not prosper. I discovered that Brampton and I had been quite mistaken about her husband, who proved to be a frightfully quarrelsome man. I am not quarrelsome myself and simply cannot abide the quarreling of others, so I left and went to my younger daughter, Philadelphia. She lives in Cornwall.”

“I see.”

“Yes, but I did not find Cornwall appealing, either. So when I learned that your dear sister, Janet, had married a Scotsman—Really, my dear sir, I quite feel for you! For your sister to have married right out of her own country! But I shall say no more about that. I came to be a solace to you, so that is that.”

Since it was clearly ineligible to tell her to go away again, Hugh said with an unfamiliar sense of creeping desperation, “But this household is bound to prove more distressing for you than any in Cornwall, madam. I would not have you sacrifice your comfort for my sake.”

“’Tis a measure of your character that you can say that, my dear sir, but you need not concern yourself one whit with my comfort. The boot is on the other foot, as my dear Brampton was used to say.”

Again at a loss to guess her meaning, he said weakly, “Is it?”

“Yes, certainly, for I intend to concern myself solely with
your
comfort.”

“Ah.”

“As to maidservants, we need not consider them, for I have brought my own woman with me, of course, and Griselda will see to all that I require. You will find that I have no wish to turn everything upside down, either. Indeed, I shall be no trouble to you or your people, for I am quite accustomed to managing a large establishment.”

“I believe you, madam, but truly—”

“I’ll warrant that, by virtue of my many years of experience, I know a great deal more about it than our dear Janet did.” She smiled hopefully. “Speak frankly now, sir. Do you not miss a woman’s touch about the place?”

“In truth, madam, I have been going on admirably for some time now without a female to run things,” Hugh said, forgetting how often he had cursed his sister’s absence. He wondered what unforgivable sin he had committed to bring such a penance upon himself.

“I think that you will find you have not known comfort at all, sir. But where are my manners?” she exclaimed, springing up from the armchair and smoothing her wide skirts. “I promise you, I know my place, and it is not to be sitting in your chair when you are present. Do sit down, Sir Hugh. You have been in the saddle many hours today, for your people were kind enough to inform me that you had ridden out with Thomas Scrope’s army. I know something about that, you see, for I was at Carlisle yesterday when they rode away. A most impressive array it was, too. How colorful and soul stirring it was to see all those handsome men-at-arms with their banners waving! I trust the outcome was as his lordship hoped it would be.”

“We prevailed, madam. An army of two thousand could hardly have failed in such a mission against unsuspecting citizens fast asleep in their beds.”

“Those dreadful Scots deserved to be trounced in their beds,” Lady Marjory said. “Do not waste another moment’s thought on them, my dear sir. Think instead about the delicious haunch of beef that your people have been roasting over the kitchen fire for your supper. Can you not smell it?”

He could, and he was hungry enough to eat the whole thing by himself.

He said politely, “Since you have your woman with you, I will offer no more objection, madam, but do not fear to offend me if you decide before long to leave Brackengill. I’ll understand if you should prefer to return to one of your daughters.”

“I shan’t do that,” she said. “You clearly need me far more than Sarah or Philadelphia. Here, you,” she added more briskly, gesturing to one of the lackeys. “Bring Sir Hugh a cushion for his chair, and see what is keeping that fellow I sent to find herbs for the rushes in here.”

Turning back to Sir Hugh, she added, “I find them rather malodorous, do not you? I believe some fresh herbs will help. But do sit down now, sir, and take your ease. Would you not like a mug of ale to slake the dust of travel from your throat?”

“Aye, I would,” Hugh admitted, too tired to resist any longer and deciding that he would drink the ale and then go upstairs to change into something more suitable for eating his supper.

His sleeveless jack of plate was flexible enough to be comfortable while riding into battle, but worn over a shirt of chain mail, it felt damned cumbersome by day’s end. He would be glad to exchange it for some comfortable clothing.

Shoving a hand through his thick hair, he moved to sit in the now cushioned chair, smiling politely when Lady Marjory asked him to sit just a little forward so that she could readjust the cushion.

“There, now,” she said, giving it a final pat. “That will be more comfortable.”

“Thank you, madam,” he said. “Do not let me keep you, though. You must have things that you wish to attend to before you take your supper.”

“Nothing that is more important than seeing to your needs, my dear sir.”

“I require nothing presently save to drink my ale,” Hugh insisted, hoping that he did not sound as desperate as he was beginning to feel. “Surely you want to tidy your hair, at least. My lads were still bringing in your baggage when I arrived.”

“The sumpter ponies fell behind,” she said. “I am quite tidy enough, I promise you. Shall I tell your kitchen people that you want your supper at once? Since you need not wait on my account, I believe you will be glad of it.”

“No, thank you, for I want to take off this armor before I sup. My people know when to serve me. Moreover, madam, it is not necessary for you to eat here in the hall with me. Brackengill boasts no ladies’ parlor, but Meggie, my cook, will be happy to serve you in your bedchamber. I am persuaded that you will enjoy a degree more comfort there than here in the hall with me and my men-at-arms.”

Since he had begun to take her measure, her failure to take even so strong a hint did not surprise him.

“I shall begin as I mean to go on, sir,” she said. “I can scarcely hide in my bedchamber whenever they serve a meal in this household. Is it really quite necessary that all your rough men sit at table with us? I can tell you, such a practice is quite out of keeping with our London ways.”

“This is not London,” Hugh said with more harshness than he had intended. Feeling instantly guilty in the face of her astonished expression, he said no more.

She bowed her head, saying ruefully, “I spoke out of turn, and I must apologize. I should not be telling you how to go on in your own residence. And to think that only a moment ago, I was saying that I would not change a thing! What you must think of me! But do not spare another thought for that. It will not happen again. You will find that I can adjust to anything. Faith, what are those men doing?”

Hugh had been staring blankly at the table before him, hoping he could thus keep a guard on tongue and temper. He straightened, saw the lads beginning to set up trestles, and said, “They are setting up the tables for supper, madam.”

“Well, they must not make such a din. I will go and tell them so for you.”

He opened his mouth to say that would not be necessary, then shut it again when he realized that at least for the too-brief time she spent harassing his men she would not be harassing him.

Drinking his ale in a few hasty gulps, he set down the pewter mug and got up, striding to the service stair near the kitchen in order to avoid passing Lady Marjory. Taking the spiral stone steps two at a time with a sense of being chased, he reached the next level and the safety of his own bedchamber. Shouting for his man, Thaddeus, he pushed open the door and entered, slamming it shut behind him with a sense of having escaped. Then he grimaced ruefully when he saw that Thaddeus was already in the room.

The plump, elderly man raised his eyebrows.

“I don’t want to hear any of your gab,” Hugh said.

“Nay, then, ye wouldn’t,” Thaddeus said. “So if ye’ll oblige me by sitting on yon stool, I’ll just pull off your boots and no say a word about naught. I’d a notion ye’d be along straightaway, so I’ve a clean shirt, doublet, and hosen ready for ye. Still, afore I shut me gob, will ye be wanting anything else besides them?”

“Clean netherstocks,” Hugh said, sitting on the stool and extending his right leg. “The chains in these have rubbed my legs raw.”

“Aye, well, they would,” Thaddeus said, kneeling to release the spurs from Hugh’s thigh-high leather riding boots. “But when it’s wearing chains in your hose or getting your leg cut off, I warrant ye’ll stand the chafing.”

“I’m glad that you decided to hold your tongue,” Hugh said sardonically. Then he grunted in pain when Thaddeus braced himself and gave the first boot a hefty jerk. “Easy! What made you so certain that I’d be along so quick?”

“Her ladyship being here,” Thaddeus said, looking surprised. He set the boot aside and reached for the other one. “I knew ye’d no want to be sitting down to sup wi’ her in all your dirt. ’Tis why I took the liberty o’ choosing a doublet and clean shirt and all for ye. She seems a pleasant sort, does Lady Marjory.” As he yanked off the second boot, he said, “Art sorry your uncle’s dead?”

Hugh shrugged and stood up to doff his clothing. “I’ve scarcely laid eyes on him since I came of age,” he said, “and I never felt close to him. He did his duty by me, certainly, and I expect that I’ve benefited from his influence with the Queen. I’m grateful that he was an honest man, but that’s about all I can say of him.”

BOOK: Border Storm
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