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Authors: Amanda Scott

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BOOK: Tamed by a Laird
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The jolt through Hugh’s body from her touch nearly undid him. Turning to face her, he drew her closer and looked into her
beautiful face.

“Ah, Jenny-love, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

Her eyes twinkled. “You’ll think of something, sir.”

Smiling then, he said, “Aye, sweetheart, I will.”

Then, giving her a quick hug, he turned to follow Lucas and their captive downstairs to the dais landing. As they neared it,
Lucas stopped and put up a hand.

Hugh had realized at nearly the same moment that the hall was unnaturally silent. Slipping past Lucas and Bowyer, he saw that
the Joculator stood just below the dais in his long red-and-black surcoat, juggling scythes. He turned this way and that,
silently inviting every man and woman in his audience to watch closely.

“Do you see Cuddy and Cath?” Jenny whispered from above Hugh.

He caught sight of them just as Cuddy, taking advantage of the audience’s rapt attention on the Joculator, slipped something
into his baggy doublet. Then, turning away from Cath, he strolled toward the back of the hall.

For once, the man carried no instrument, but Hugh saw him nod to someone ahead of him in a group crowded near the hall entrance.

A man wearing breeks and a leather jack emerged from that little crowd.

The Joculator produced a lighted torch just then, tossed it to join the scythes, and then turned to look straight at Hugh.

Bowyer drew in a breath, but Hugh clapped a hand hard across the man’s mouth, stifling any outcry before he could make it.

Without missing toss or catch, the Joculator gave a slight nod.

Just then, behind him, Gawkus and Gilly flitted across the open space and others of the company, including Cath and Gerda,
moved toward Cuddy and the other man, surrounding them as Cuddy clapped the leather-clad man on the back.

The Joculator whirled, and his long cloak swirled. Scythes and torch, the latter still alight, dropped neatly into the agile
hands.

Dropping the scythes at his feet, the Joculator passed a hand over the torch.

The flame went out, but as he silently faced the dais, a scuffle erupted at the back of the hall, drawing everyone else’s
attention.

Archie roared, “What the devil is the row back there?”

A man-at-arms shouted back, “We’ve got a sack o’ jewels here, m’lord!”

“Bring it here to me, one of you.”

“Sakes, m’lord, this chap’s got several sacks on ’im! In troth, these two—”

“Bring those men forward, too,” Archie bellowed.

Men-at-arms escorted Cuddy and his friend to the foot of the dais.

“That’s Bowyer’s henchman,” Jenny hissed from behind Hugh.

“With respect, my lord,” Hugh said, motioning to the armed men behind Archie and taking Bowyer onto the dais. “I have one
more who belongs with them.”

At a nod from Archie, the men-at-arms took Bowyer in charge.

“Put him with the others,” Archie ordered. “Which of you would speak?”

“An it please ye, my lord, I will,” Cuddy said, stepping forward a pace.

Archie nodded.

“Though I think o’ m’self now as a Scot, my lord, this man here be me gallous cousin Drogo from England,” Cuddy said, gesturing
toward Bowyer’s henchman. “He serves at Lochmaben wi’ that ’un what our Hugo caught, who likes to pose as a nobleman. The
two o’ them said they’d kill me, me wife and daughter, and anyone else wha’ got in their way, did we no collect jewels for
them tonight. They did capture our Bonnie Jenny, too, and said they’d kill her, as well,” he added.

“If I ask them who they are and what they are doing here, will they tell me the same?” Archie said, “Or will they say you
are lying and are as guilty as they are?”

“By your leave, my lord,” the Joculator said in a quiet but nonetheless carrying voice, “I would speak for this man.”

“Aye, sure,” Archie said. “I expect you will tell me that no member of your company or any other minstrel would ever even
consider stealing from my guests.”

“By my troth, my lord—”

“By the Rood,” Archie snapped back. “Your word means little more than the word of your man there or those chappies beside
him. Why should I believe
you
?”

“Because I am more at fault than my man is,” the Joculator said. “The original idea was mine own.”

Jenny clapped a hand over her mouth and moved onto the dais to stand by Hugh, so she could watch the Joculator more closely.

The silence that had greeted his statement began to fill with restless whispers and movement until Archie said curtly, “Explain
yourself, sirrah.”

“Aye, sure, my lord, for I did begin it all,” the Joculator said, meeting Archie’s stern gaze. “I believe that a man must
take responsibility for his actions—any man, commoner or lord o’ the land.”

“I expect you mean something by that statement,” Archie said.

“Only that I am much to blame for what happened here tonight—as ye are, my lord. Actions have consequences, and an action
of yours some years ago led me and my company here tonight—aye, and these English villains, too.”

“Do you dare tell me that
I
am responsible?”

“Ye are, my lord, but only in part. Seven years ago, soon after ye’d imposed your rule on Galloway, ye held a feast at Castle
Mains and hired minstrels to amuse your guests. One of those minstrels was a young fool whose comments on the harshness of
your rule offended ye. For that offense, ye sentenced him to death.” He paused. “That lad, sir, was my son.”

A collective gasp greeted the declaration.

“Now, see here,” Archie began. “I never—”

The Joculator interrupted, saying, “These may be my last words, my lord, so I would finish if ye’ll permit me.” Without awaiting
that permission, he said, “Unlike more experienced fools, the lad had failed to learn that the trick is not to lie or to overstate
a powerful man’s faults for humor’s sake but always to speak truth to such men. The greater trick is to make them laugh when
one does it. My son thought it enough to make
others
laugh or merely to stun them to silence. Because he was not clever enough to speak as a fool, my lord, he was much a fool
to speak so to ye.”

“He was, aye,” Archie agreed, although Jenny noted that his voice was less harsh than usual. “But he did not deserve to die,
nor did I order his death,” he added. “I recall that lad, sithee, and I did order him out of the castle for his insults, because
although I knew it snowed, I did not know how heavily. Castle Mains lies less than a mile from Kirkcudbright, where I knew
he’d find shelter. You won’t care that I was horrified to learn of his death, but by my troth, sir, that is true.”

“I do care, my lord,” the Joculator said quietly.

“ ’Twas dreadful, and tragic,” Archie said, speaking directly to him as if no one else were there. “My men found him on the
sands the next morning when the tide was out. We did give him a Christian burial, but that is not enough, I know.”

“Not enough to bring him back, certainly,” the Joculator agreed. “But that
is
something I did not know, my lord, and it is something of a comfort to learn. I had feared wolves might have got him, or
that the sea had swept him away.”

“My lord, may I speak?” Tam Inglis said from the back of the hall.

When Archie nodded, Tam stepped forward and said to the Joculator, “I were newly captain o’ the guard at Castle Mains then,
sir, and I sent me own lads out when I saw how the snow had thickened, to see if they could find him. When they found nae
sign o’ him, we decided he’d made it safe to the town. It appalled us all to find the poor lad on the sand next morning. He
must ha’ missed his step and fallen into the water from the wharf or walkway. It be sma’ comfort, sir, but cold as that water
were, he’d no ha’ suffered long.”

The Joculator nodded. “I thank ye for telling me that.” Turning back to Archie, he said, “Doubtless, ye wonder how my friend
Cuddy here comes into it.”

“I do.”

“My original plan was to seek vengeance by revealing that even the Lord of Galloway is not omnipotent. But, contrary to what
some might think, particularly now, we minstrels are by necessity an honest lot. We do not steal, nor did we intend to steal
from ye or your guests. My plan, which emerged out of a dangerous mixture of grief and fury, was to show just how easily we
might
have done so, by doubling the number of items we lifted and returning only half during the performance here. The rest we
would have returned at some point afterward.”

“By my troth, sir, you may be as big a fool as your son to tell me so.”

“Ye may be right, my lord, but I found when we tried it out in a great house that I cared less for vengeance than for the
honor of my people. I decided then against proceeding with that plan. However, Cuddy had foolishly revealed it to his cousin
Drogo, a musician who sometimes traveled with us. I learned from sheriff’s men who recently searched our camp in Dumfries
that they suspected we had stolen jewelry from other houses where we had performed. We’d taken naught, my lord, but Drogo
had performed with us at each of those houses.”

“I warrant he would deny having aught to do with thievery,” Archie said.

“I took nowt,” Drogo said gruffly.

“Learning of those thefts,” the Joculator continued, “I confronted Cuddy and learned that these two Englishmen were forcing
him to proceed with our erstwhile plan here at Threave. They threatened him and his family, as you heard, on orders from their
commander at Lochmaben, and were determined the mischief should be theft pure and simple, my lord. And that all blame should
fall to our company.”

“Nevertheless,” Archie said, frowning, “you’ve as good as admitted that your people took the things. And though they may have
done so under duress…”

“We can discuss at a more auspicious time whether I did admit any such thing, my lord,” the Joculator said. “But I suspect
the evidence will show that only these two Englishmen have kept anything taken from your guests tonight. I can confidently
say that neither Cuddy nor
any
of my people holds stolen property.”

“That would surprise me,” Archie admitted, looking to Tam Inglis. “What say you, Tam? Did your guardsmen not find such things
on this Cuddy chap here?”

“Nay, my lord, only on that one who stepped out to meet him, and
he
had much. In troth, sir, ’twas the minstrels that caught him. That Cuddy just walked up, clapped him on the back, and the
others surrounded them. They must ha’ seen him lifting summat and moved to stop him afore he could get away with it.”

“Here now,” Drogo exclaimed. “ ’Twas nowt o’ the sort! They must ha’ slipped them things into me clothes!”

Ignoring him, the Joculator pointed to Bowyer and said, “If your men search him, I suspect they will find that he is also
carrying stolen property, my lord. I saw him here in the hall earlier, but I believe he has been in Sir Hugh Douglas’s custody
or that of your guardsmen for some time since then.”

“Search him,” Archie ordered.

The two men-at-arms who had taken Bowyer to join the others proceeded to search him despite his protests, until one produced
a pouch from Bowyer’s fashionably baggy sleeve.

“Here now, that’s my purse!” Bowyer exclaimed.

At Archie’s nod, the guard opened the pouch, revealing no coins but a gold collar studded with colorful gems and two pairs
of earrings set with others.

Seeing them, Jenny bit back a smile, wondering how the minstrels had managed that bit of legerdemain. Knowing their skills,
she had no doubt that one of them had contrived earlier to slip the pouch into Bowyer’s clothing, thus casting the blame for
the thefts right back where it belonged. She dared not look at Hugh, knowing he would suspect the same and fearing that Archie
might, too.

“Throw that pair in the dungeon,” Archie said, indicating Drogo and Bowyer. “I’ll deal with them anon. Then see that every
piece of jewelry they took gets back to its owner. As for you, sir,” he added with a sardonic look at the Joculator. “I’m
thinking that you’re a clever chap
and
a brave one. ’Tis plain, too, that you are far more skilled than most at the arts and tricks of your craft.”

Jenny held her breath, fearing Archie
did
suspect they had planted the jewels.

“However,” he went on as Bowyer and his man left the hall with their escort, “I have no doubt that, instead of taking vengeance
this night as you might have, you have done me a signal service and thus have put me further in your debt.”

The Joculator stood silently, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

“I’d have been in a quandary what to do with those two,” Archie went on. “Whilst I’m strongly inclined to hang them for their
mischief here, I don’t want to create trouble with England by doing so. Moreover, I had hoped they would take word of Threave’s
strength back to Lochmaben to discourage the rest of that lot from more mischief. Thanks to your cleverness, I can now simply
return them to their commander. The man lacks both a charitable nature and a sense of humor, and will be gey displeased that
they failed to carry out his orders.”

BOOK: Tamed by a Laird
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