Ransom

by Julie Garwood

  “I, too, believed your father was a loyal subject and a good man,” John said, “ . . . until he betrayed me.”

  “I cannot believe that he did betray you,” she whispered. “My mother had only just passed away, and my father was mourning her at home . . . here, my lord, at Dunhanshire.”

  “I know he wasn’t in court when Arianna died, but Alford is convinced that he was in league with another. Aye, the man who killed Arianna passed the treasure to your father. If the treasure is here, it proves Alford’s theory is correct.”

  “I don’t know what to say to convince you that my father was innocent,” she said.

  “Soon we may have proof that he was a blackheart. If you had kept silent about the treasure’s whereabouts, I never would have known for certain that your father betrayed me. Why, then, did you send for me?”

  “Alford imprisoned my Uncle Morgan and told me that he would kill him if I didn’t go to the Highlands and find my sister. Alford believed she had the box, and I was ordered to bring her and the treasure back to him.”

  John glanced at Bridgid but otherwise continued to ignore her as he defended his baron’s actions. “Alford’s zeal in helping me with my search for Arianna’s treasure has not dimmed over the years, and I cannot fault him for going to such extremes. Besides, it appears the end might justify the means.” Smiling as though he were a father explaining his precocious son’s behavior, he added, “But he has his faults, and one is greed. I’m sure he wanted you to bring the treasure to him so that he could give it to me and collect the reward. I would do the same thing, and so, apparently, would you.”

  “My lord, I don’t want a reward. Truly I don’t.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  “My Uncle Morgan is one of your faithful barons, and I ask that you protect him.”

  “That is all you want?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  The king’s disposition shifted as quick as a bolt of lightning, and he was suddenly charming and solicitous. Though she had heard about his radical changes of mood, she was still caught off guard.

  “I have just spoken at length with Morgan,” he announced.

  Gillian’s voice shook when she asked, “He is well, my lord?”

  “He’s old and tired and making outrageous accusations, but he is well. You’ll see him soon.”

  Tears clouded her vision. “Thank you, my lord,” she whispered. “I know you are anxious to see if the treasure is here, but if I may, I would ask . . .”

  “Yes, my dear?”

  “If I’m wrong and the box isn’t here, please don’t take your displeasure out on my Uncle Morgan. He had nothing to do with this. I alone am responsible.”

  “And I should therefore turn my wrath on you?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  John sighed. “I have waited over fifteen years for the return of the treasure, and I find that anticipation increases my joy and my sadness. I don’t want to hurry,” he explained. “For the possible disappointment will be very painful for me. As for Morgan,” he continued. “I assure you that even if the treasure isn’t here, your uncle will still have my protection, and so shall you. Do you think me an ogre? I will not hold you responsible for your father’s crimes.”

  Though she knew that at this moment he was sincere, she also knew how swiftly he could change his mind. She didn’t dare put her faith in his promise.

  “You are very kind, my lord,” she whispered.

  “I can upon occasion be kind,” he arrogantly agreed. “Now answer a question for me.”

  “Yes, my lord?”

  “Are you married to the giant barbarian with the long golden hair named Laird Buchanan?”

  Gillian swayed. “I am his wife, my lord,” she stammered. “He is here . . . you have seen him?”

  “Aye, I’ve seen him,” he drawled. “And he is indeed here, with two other lairds and an army at their side. The Highlanders surround Dunhanshire.”

  Bridgid’s deep indrawn breath drew the king’s attention. “I’ve been ignoring you far too long, my dear. Forgive me my poor manners and tell me, who are you?”

  “She is my dearest friend,” Gillian said. “Her name is Bridgid KirkConnell.”

  Bridgid smiled at the king, and within a heartbeat he was smiling back. “Ah, you are the lady the Laird Sinclair has come for.”

  “I do belong to his clan, my lord,” she whispered, nervous to have the king’s undivided attention. “And I am one of his many loyal followers, but he wouldn’t come all this way just for me.”

  The king laughed. “From the way he was ranting at me, I believe you’re mistaken. I must admit the Highlanders are an impressive and intimidating lot, to be sure. When I saw them, I considered returning to London to get additional troops, and I was certainly urged to do just that by my guard,” he added. “But then the three lairds separated from their men and rode hard to intercept me. It seems they had only just found out that the two of you were inside, and they were . . . highly agitated. I commanded them to stay outside the walls, and I will tell you that I was most unhappy when Laird Maitland dared to argue with me. When I told him that you had sent for me, and that I would not allow any harm to come to you, they grudgingly agreed to wait. Why did you come all this way, Bridgid?”

  She looked at Gillian, hoping she would explain.

  “Baron Alford believes Bridgid is my sister.”

  “But she isn’t,” the king said.

  “No, my lord, she isn’t.”

  “We lied to Baron Alford,” Bridgid blurted. “But Gillian told me I mustn’t lie to you, my lord.”

  The king seemed amused by Bridgid’s honesty. “And she was right,” he said before turning to Gillian again. “And what of your sister?”

  Gillian bowed her head. “She is forever lost to us, my lord.”

  John nodded, accepting what she said as fact. Alford interrupted the conversation then by offering the king refreshments.

  “I’ll dine with you when I return.”

  “Return, my lord?” Alford asked.

  “Yes,” John answered. “Lady Gillian is going to show me where she believes Arianna’s treasure is hidden. We will not know for certain that it’s here until we look for ourselves.”

  Alford took a step toward his commander and motioned for him to come to him.

  John smiled at Gillian. “Shall we go then?” he asked as he stepped back and graciously offered his arm to her.

  Her hand trembled when she placed it on the king’s arm. Noticing her distress, John put his hand on top of hers, gave it an affectionate pat, and commanded that she cease being afraid of him.

  “You are a loyal subject, are you not?”

  “Yes, my lord, I am.”

  “Then, as I said before, you have nothing to fear from me. Do you know, Gillian, that you remind me of her?”

  “Your Arianna, my lord?”

  His face dropped, and he became melancholy. “Aye, she was my Arianna, and though your eyes are not the same color as hers, they are as beautiful. I loved her, you know, as I have never loved any other woman. She was . . . perfection. I often wonder what course my life would have taken had she lived. She brought out the good in me, and when I was with her, I wanted to be . . . different.” He sounded like a very young boy now in the throes of his first love.

  The king suddenly pulled away from her and turned to Alford, for he’d only just noticed his friend was in deep discussion with one of his soldiers. John lashed out, berating the baron for his rudeness, reminding him that when he was in the room, it was the law of England that he, and only he, be the center of attention.

  Having just been duly chastised, Alford bowed his head while he gave John his apology.

  “What were you discussing with your soldier?” John demanded. “It must have been important for you to be so impertinent.”

  “Horace is one of your most loyal soldiers, and I was telling him that I would ask you if you would allow him and three other worthy men the hono
r of escorting you and Gillian.”

  With a negligible shrug, John granted permission. “We won’t be gone long,” he said, and then he commanded his soldiers, “All of you stay here. No one leaves this hall until I return. Bridgid, my dear, will you please wait here?”

  “Yes, my lord,” she replied.

  Alford drew the king’s attention yet again. “May I accompany you and Gillian?”

  “Sit down,” John commanded.

  Alford didn’t heed the warning in the king’s voice and dared to ask a second time.

  Irritated with his baron, John decided to make him suffer. “No, you may not come along,” he said once again. “And while Gillian and I are taking our stroll, I suggest that you and Hugh and Edwin stay away from the open windows.”

  Alford looked confused by the suggestion. John chuckled as he explained. “Did I forget to mention that Dunhanshire is completely surrounded by Highlanders? Ah, I can see from your expression I did forget. How remiss of me.”

  “The heathens are here?” Alford’s eyes bulged, and he swallowed loudly as he tried to get past his surprise.

  “I just said that they were,” John replied. “You do know why they’ve come, don’t you?”

  Alford feigned ignorance. “No, my lord, I don’t know why. How could I?”

  John grinned, enjoying his friend’s discomfort. He was annoyed with Alford for being so impudent in his presence and also because of the mischief he’d caused with Baron Morgan. The king had few loyal lords now, and even though Morgan wasn’t a favored baron, he was well thought of by the others, and his voice in support of John’s policies could well make a difference in the future. Alford’s zeal in trying to locate Arianna’s treasure had put his king in the middle of a squabble, and he planned to make his friend suffer a bit longer before he forgave him.

  In truth, he would always forgive him for the simple reason that Alford had brought Arianna to him. No matter how severe his transgressions were, John would never forget that most wondrous gift.

  Thinking to make him squirm now, he explained the Highlanders’ mission. “Would you like me to tell you why they’ve come all this way?”

  “If you are so inclined,” Alford replied smoothly.

  “They want to kill you. Let me try to remember their exact words. Ah, yes, I recall now. The tallest one . . . his name is Maitland. He told me he’s going to tear your heart out with his bare hands and shove it down your throat. Isn’t that amusing? He’s big enough to do it,” he added with a chuckle.

  The king didn’t expect an answer and continued on. “All three of the lairds were arguing—and in front of me, mind you—as to which one has the right to kill you.”

  Alford forced a smile. “Yes, that is amusing.”

  “They’ve also made threats against you, Edwin, and you as well, Hugh. The Buchanan laird has gotten it into his head that one of you struck Lady Gillian. He believes he now has the right to cut off the culprit’s hands. Oh, he also mentioned cutting your feet off, Alford, or did I already mention that threat?”

  Alford shook his head. “You should kill them for threatening your friends,” Alford cried. “Aren’t we loyal to each other? You and I have been through many trying times, and I have always stood by your side against your enemies, including the pope. Kill them,” he demanded with a shout.

  “No,” Gillian cried out.

  John patted her arm. “See how you have upset this dear lady? Come along, Gillian. This discussion can wait until we return, but I assure you, I have no plans to kill the lairds. Even I know that I would have every man in the Highlands at my doorstep, and I have enough disruption in my kingdom at the moment. I don’t need more.”

  The doors were thrown open and they stepped outside. Gillian was looking down at the steps as she lifted her skirts, and when she looked up again, she came to a dead stop and gasped.

  There, standing in the center of the courtyard, were Iain and Ramsey and Brodick. They were all armed, with their swords in their scabbards.

  Brodick’s eyes seemed to blaze with anger, and he was staring at her. She couldn’t take her gaze off him, and he looked as if he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.

  John had given orders that they were to remain outside the walls, and he therefore didn’t know what to make of the lairds’ appearance. How, then, had they gotten inside? More curious than angry, he glanced at Gillian and asked, “You willingly pledged yourself to that laird?”

  “I did willingly marry him, my lord,” she answered. “And I love him very much.”

  “Then what they say is true. Love is surely blind.”

  Not knowing if he was jesting and expected her to laugh, or serious and expected her agreement, she remained silent.

  As she moved closer to Brodick, he shifted his position until his legs were braced apart and he took up twice the space. Iain and Ramsey immediately did the same.

  Their message was clear. They weren’t going to let Gillian get past them, and she knew that if she and the king tried to walk around them, they’d block them.

  The rest of the king’s soldiers stood in the background with their hands on the hilt of their swords, watching and waiting for John’s command.

  The lairds seemed impervious to the soldiers, and Gillian was frantic with worry for their safety.

  “Stand down,” John ordered.

  “My lord, may my husband accompany us on our walk?” Gillian asked softly. “I have not seen him in a long while, and I would be happy for his company.”

  “You would?” John asked, grinning once again. “He doesn’t look too happy to see you, Gillian. None of them do,” he added. “In fact your laird wears the expression of a husband who would like to beat his wife.”

  “Oh, no, he would never do such a thing,” she assured him. “No matter how angry he becomes, he would not even think about hurting me. They are honorable men, all of them.”

  John stopped directly in front of Brodick, tilted his head back so he could look into the giant’s eyes, and said, “You wife wishes you to accompany us on our stroll.”

  Brodick didn’t say a word, but he moved back so that John and Gillian could walk past. Her hand brushed his, a deliberate touch she couldn’t resist.

  She knew he was right behind her now, and she was tormented with conflicting emotions. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and tell him how sorry she was because she had put him in such danger, yet at the same time she wanted to shout at him because he had lied to her and placed revenge above his own safety.

  Desperate to protect him, she prayed for God’s help. The king let go of her arm, and they walked side by side across the barren courtyard. She saw Horace select three men, and her uneasiness intensified. She wished that John hadn’t granted Alford’s request.

  Alford’s soldiers fell into stride behind the king. Brodick stayed behind her, his back vulnerable to attack, and her panic became nearly uncontrollable.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw another group of Alford’s men rushing up the steps into the castle. John drew her attention then when he asked, “Where are you leading me?”

  “We’re going to the old stable, my lord. It’s directly behind the new building Alford built after he seized control of Dunhanshire.”

  “Why didn’t his men simply tear down the old when they put up the new?”

  “Superstition,” she answered.

  “Explain what you mean, and while you’re at it, tell me how you determined where the treasure was hidden.”

  Gillian began with the night her father was killed and finished her story just as they reached the dilapidated barn.

  At the king’s command, one of the soldiers ran to fetch a torch. John questioned Gillian while they waited. “You still haven’t explained what you meant about superstition,” he reminded her.

  “After Ector became crazed, the soldiers feared him, and my lady’s maid told me that every time he would walk past, the soldiers would drop to their knees and make the sign of the cros
s to ward off his evil. She saw them do it countless times,” she added. “The soldiers feared that Ector had the power to snatch their minds and make them as crazed as he was. Liese also told me the men believed that Ector was possessed by the Devil, himself, and for that reason they didn’t dare touch him or touch anything that belonged to him. Ector roamed the land during the day and slept in the corner of the stable at night.”

  “You paint my soldiers as superstitious fools, but if you’re correct in your guess, their fear kept my Arianna’s treasure safe for me all these many years.”

  The soldier returned with the burning torch, and John motioned for him to go inside first. Gillian was suddenly so filled with trepidation she couldn’t get her legs to move. Dear God, please, please let the box be there.

  She felt Brodick’s hand on her shoulder, and she swayed back against him. She stayed there for no more than a second or two, but that was all the comfort she needed, and then she straightened and followed the king inside.

  She could see specks of dust spinning in the bolts of fading gray sunlight filtering in through the holes in the rafters. The light wouldn’t have been sufficient without the aid of the torch. The air was as stale as death and smelled of mold and mildew, which grew stronger with each step she took.

  The king stopped when he reached the center of the corridor and motioned for her to take the lead.

  “It’s in the corner,” she said as she hurried past him. She kept her attention on the floor now. It was cluttered with decaying flats of wood and nails.

  When she passed the last stall, she slowly turned to look in the corner, and then she cried out. There it was, Ector’s knapsack, still hanging from the hook on the wall.

  “Shall we see if the treasure is inside?” John whispered.

  He moved forward with Gillian at his side and lifted the filthy knapsack from the hook, and shoving the rubble out of his way with the side of his foot, he knelt down on the floor.

  The soldier, Horace, called out to him, “Is the treasure there, my lord?”