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Authors: Amanda Scott

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“Try,” he said.

“Cath and her man, Cuddy, were in it.” Hastily, she added, “But I do not suspect them of anything, sir. Both of them vanished
from the dream rather quickly, although the voice I heard continued to sound like Cuddy’s.”

“He vanished but his voice went on without him?”

“Nay, he… he turned into someone else,” she said. “A… a man-at-arms at Lochmaben.” Without looking at him, she added, “Peg
and I had asked him the way to the garderobe.”

To her surprise, Hugh smiled. “You should not be dreaming of Englishmen, lass. That is practically treason.”

She shook her head, saying, “I don’t think the voices sounded English. They just sounded like Borderers. I saw two men in
my dream but not together. After that, it sounded as if one man were talking to himself in Cuddy’s voice.”

“What did he say?”

“He said, ‘We pay for what we want and ye’ll do what I say.’ Then, as if he were irritated with himself, or pretending to
be someone else, he said, ‘So, I’m just to take ye along to Threave, am I?’ You know,” she said thoughtfully, “I have not
said these things aloud before. They’ve all run together in my mind. But it was very much as if
two
men were talking, even with the voice sounding always the same.”

“Are you sure the voice was Cuddy’s?”

“I barely knew anyone in the company then,” she reminded him. “I’d heard his voice only once. Sithee, he was the man in the
spat with Cath. She thought he’d been seeing too much of a cousin she doesn’t like because she thinks he’s a bad influence
on Cuddy. Sithee, I’ve seen such encounters amongst our people, and the voice in my dream had the sort of aggrieved tone a
man gets at such a time. The tone might simply have reminded me of Cuddy.”

“What did your dream character say after the bit about Threave?”

“He said Archie the Grim would ken nowt, nor Old Bleary.”

“So he spoke of the King, too.”

“Aye, and the other one— Sakes, but I’m sure now there must have been two men talking in that dream. Not that it matters,
since it
was
a dream. At all events, the aggrieved one told the other to whisst, and I woke up. I remember wondering if it was
all
a dream. For a moment or two, it was as if one man were still speaking.”

“ ’Twas a strange thing, to be sure,” he said. “But as it was a dream, lass, it may have sprung from no more than comments
you’d heard before.”

She thought he might be right. She did tend to let her imagination run free, and perhaps that was what she had done. Just
being inside Lochmaben could easily have stirred her to imagine an enemy at work. At least Hugh had not rolled his eyes or
explained at length that she was just being foolish, as Phaeline so often did.

She said, “There’s more, though. I met a juggler and a musician, Jem and Gib, in the woods just a while ago. Gib thought I
was Cath and called out to ask if they should try their new skills tonight or wait for larger crowds.”

“There is not much in that,” Hugh said.

“Nay, but as Jem greeted me, Gib went on to warn him that they must do nowt to imperil the performance at Threave. Then he
said the sheriff might come tonight to watch, and Jem told him to whisst. But Gib just complained that Cath had vanished,
which made me think of her vanishing from my dream and brought it all back. I did not know then about the missing jewels.
But even so…” She paused. “Do you see?”

“I see how you have been thinking, but I cannot see how a dream you had at Lochmaben has aught to do with minstrels hoping
to perform exceptionally well at Threave. ’Tis likely they don’t want to spoil that performance by practicing all their tricks
or skits in front of folks likely to spread word of all they do. Sithee, if that happened, it would lessen their impact on
the grand occasion.”

“I suppose so,” she said. “I know there is naught of substance in any of it, but I still think something is not right. It
may be the
way
they said things or a certain look they had, or just…” She shrugged, frustrated. “I don’t know!”

“Then we will continue to ponder,” he said. When she looked closely to see if he meant that, he added, “What made you decide
to confide in me?”

The image of her father presented itself in her mind and made her smile reminiscently. “I like to talk such things out,” she
said. “My father said it was the surest way he knew to learn whether to trust one’s instincts or not.”

“ ’Tis a good plan, I should think. But—”

“Do you trust
your
instincts, sir?”

“Aye, sure, sometimes,” he said. “Not always.”

“Well, I am much the same. But I do think I ought to trust this one, even if I do not quite understand it. It feels gey strong,
like a warning.”

“Then we must see what more we can learn,” he said. “Meantime, your people at Annan House want you home. They have not been
unkind to you, have they?”

“Nay,” she said. “But they would order my life, and…” Trying to think of a tactful way to explain how she felt about Phaeline
and Reid—who were his siblings, after all—she spread her hands instead.

“You know you must go back,” he said. “In these uncertain times, you should be glad to have a man to help you run your estates
and protect you.”

She looked straight at him then, no longer caring about his sensibilities. “Would
you
trust Reid to protect me? Would you allow him to run
your
estates?”

“That is different,” he said. “I am quite capable of running my own estates and protecting myself.”

“Aye, well, so am I,” she said.

“Nonsense, a woman cannot do either as well as a man can.”

“So you believe
Reid
would do better?”

He hesitated, grimacing.

“Just so,” she said. “I had begun to wonder if you knew your brother at all.”

“He will learn,” he said.

“Then
you
, not I, should be the one to teach him. I do not want him learning on
my
estates by guess and by consequence. I shall suggest, sir, that he apply to you for lessons before he tries taking the reins
at Easdale.”

He smiled. “That would teach me, would it not?”

“Aye, it would,” she said, unable to resist smiling back. Then she added seriously, “I am sorry to be the one to tell you,
but your brother is feckless, sir.”

“Even so, you have formally betrothed yourself to him and must return.”

“You say naught that you’ve not said already, and naught to persuade me,” she said. “The others are finishing up now, I think,”
she said, turning away.

He caught her by an arm. “Hold there, lass. You would be wiser not to walk away from me until we have finished talking.”

“But we
have
finished. You are kin to Archie Douglas, are you not?”

“You know I am.”

“Well, you agreed to try to learn more about this odd warning sense I feel, and with Threave popping into everything—”

“Sakes, if they worried about the sheriff, the whole business is more likely to lead to the missing jewels,” he said. “That
is the only crime we know about.”

“But the missing jewels have naught to do with Lochmaben!” she said. “My dream could not have—”

“Lass,” he said patiently, “your dream is doubtless just a dream, or mayhap you had noticed things you did not understand
whilst traveling with the minstrels, and your dream was how your imagination tried to make sense of them.”

“But, if that is so, why would anyone in it declare that Archie the Grim and the King wouldn’t ken aught of whatever it is
until afterward
,” she demanded.

“Afterward? I don’t believe you said that before.”

“I only remembered as I was saying it, but I’m sure that is what he said.”

“I suppose it is possible that a nearby conversation may have intruded on your dream,” he said thoughtfully. “Where were you
sleeping?”

“In the corner of the courtyard near the keep entryway. When I woke, I did see men walking about but no one was near enough
for me to have heard them speak.” She brought the scene to mind again. “The entryway had that stone archway over it, and it
was dark inside. I expect someone might have stood talking there. Anyone doing that would likely be English, though.”

“And idle speculation is useless,” he said.

“But if somehow they might threaten Archie the Grim, you do have a duty to learn more, do you not? You do serve him. Reid
said that you did.”

“I won my knighthood from him and owe him fealty, but I no longer serve him in the field. Were Scotland to be attacked, it
would be otherwise, of course.”

“If
he
is to be attacked, surely that counts as well.”

“Aye, sure, it does,” he agreed. “But whatever your odd feelings may mean, you have no evidence, and I have committed my service
to Dunwythie. I can see you safely home and still ride to Threave in time to warn Archie of possible trouble. That is all
it will take, I promise you, to foil any mischief—if mischief even exists.”

“My dear sir, I have made it plain that I will not go unless you are willing to snatch me away by force. You would do well
to reconcile yourself to that fact. If warning him is all that is necessary, I’d advise you to ride to Threave at once.”

He was silent, giving her hope that he was considering her advice.

“Mayhap I should,” he said. But to her consternation, the emotion that surged through her was disappointment, not elation.

Ruthlessly concealing it, she said, “An excellent notion, sir. Doubtless you will want to be away early tomorrow morning.”

“Doubtless I will,” he agreed. “I shall consider it. Now, as it appears that tonight’s practice has ended, I’ll escort you
back to the encampment.”

“We have been talking together too long as it is,” she countered. “I would be wiser to walk back with Peg. I see her now,”
she added firmly. “Goodnight, sir.”

Again she turned, and again he stopped her. “Peg is walking with her brother and Lucas. No one will think it odd that you
walk with me after we have sung love songs to each other. Moreover, the path is uneven. Take my arm, lass.”

He had been holding it out to her, and once again, he had succeeded in making her feel small and as if she were behaving in
an unseemly manner. He did not say so, but the feeling persisted even after she accepted his arm.

“I did not mean to be rude,” she said at last.

“Nay, lass, I’m sure you did not,” he said.

His tone was consoling, even sympathetic, so she could not imagine why it stirred only a desire to smack him.

She resisted it but only by pressing her lips firmly together.

Hugh felt her hand tighten on his arm and thought he knew what she was thinking. She was a woman who revealed her thoughts
in every expression, every line of her body, and in the slightest tone of her voice. He had annoyed her.

The knowledge made him smile, and he was glad she could not see it. She was staring straight ahead, and although her chin
was a little higher than usual, the difference in their heights made it unlikely that she could see his expression without
turning her head to look up at him.

The smooth, firm line of her jaw and his certainty that she had her lips pressed tightly together stirred a childish desire
to make her smile, even if it took tickling to do it. He stifled the thought, but it soon returned in a teasing speculation
about which parts of her curvaceous body might be the most ticklish.

Moonbeams piercing the canopy lit the narrow pathway well enough for him to see even without the ambient glow from the torches
behind them in the clearing. They would stay lit until the townsfolk had all gone, after which, someone had told him, the
lads watching them would douse them and bring them back to camp.

He did not mean to leave her in Dumfries with the minstrels. Even if he could trust both Peg and Bryan, they could not provide
sufficient protection for her. If something was amiss within the company, plot or no plot, she might not be safe.

She remained silent, and he wanted to hear her voice again. He had enjoyed singing with her, especially the comic song. As
she sang her replies, her eyes had twinkled, her rosy cheeks had glowed, and he had had trouble concentrating on which one
of the four male characters was singing each of his verses.

He could not remember any woman affecting him so since Ella and the bairn had died. But she was nothing like Ella. Indeed,
he feared she was as stubborn as he was, and Ella had not had a stubborn bone in her sweet body. She had been all pliable
submission, bowing to his every whim and decree. She had never disputed with him but had, in fact, made him feel every inch
the lord and master of his home.

Jenny, on the other hand, stirred only the primitive desire in him to master
her
.

But he was a mild-mannered man. It was strange to think how many times of late he had had to remind himself of that fact,
and Jenny seemed to make a mockery of those reminders. From the outset of his journey, he had wanted to shake sense into her,
to make her mind him, to force her obedience to Dunwythie’s authority.

BOOK: Tamed by a Laird
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