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The Highlander’s English Woman (The Stelton Legacy)

Page 3

by Ruth A. Casie


  “Totally absurd if you ask me,” her mother said, sputtering in disbelief.

  “Not long afterward, a ghost appeared. Those who have seen the apparition believe the ghost is Evan. No one knows how to put the spirit to rest. Personally, I think they all had bad ale. Nothing compares to yours, Sir.” He lifted his re-filled tankard to his host.

  Her father smiled and let out a small chuckle. He raised his tankard, then continued to eat.

  “I don’t believe the story.” Her mother shooed Duke away from the table. “Evan would never hurt Angel. I remember them both clearly. She was sensible and reliable. And Evan was devoted to Herbert. He would never be unfaithful to the family. Something here is amiss. When did the deaths occur?” Along with her mother, she and Lisbeth lost interest in their meal.

  “Three weeks ago. I know your next question. If the ghost’s appearance is so recent, why is he blamed for the hardship?”

  “Precisely,” Laura, Lisbeth, and Mother said in unison.

  “There is nothing or no one else to blame.” Jamie’s gaze went from her mother, to Lisbeth, and to her. Gone was his playful manner. “After his death and the ghost’s appearance, the idea he was responsible for the troubles arose. To be honest, better to blame someone already dead than some living person they all trust.”

  The sobering thought lingered.

  “Pass me the venison,” her father said. Everyone at the table let out a breath and returned to their meal.

  “Mother, too bad you can’t go to Caerlaverock and help poor Evan,” Lisbeth said.

  “No, I can’t leave now, but it is a pity.” Her mother hesitated, her food almost to her mouth. “I wonder what he’s trying to tell you.” She shrugged and continued with her meal.

  “Tell me? I hardly knew Evan in life. What could he possibly want to tell me in death?” Jamie looked as if he were weighing the question. “Although Cousin Herbert agrees with Lisbeth, he said you had a way with ghosts and it was unfortunate you weren’t available.”

  “So does Laura.” Her mother put her linen on the table, sat up, and elbowed her husband.

  “Me?” Laura dropped what was left of her meat pie.

  “You have a special skill of getting to the bottom of issues. If anyone can find out the truth of these deaths and how to put Evan’s poor soul to rest, you can,” her mother said, a smug look on her face. “The more I think of it, the more the idea pleases me. Yes. You’ll go to Herbert in my place.”

  Laura stared at her mother. Of course she wanted to help her cousin, but she couldn’t leave now. Surely her father would bring Mother to her senses.

  “You’re right, Darla. Besides, a trip would be good for Laura and the sooner the better.”

  Laura stared at her father. What was going on?

  “No, no, that’s not necessary.” Jamie put down his knife and almost bolted out of his seat. His gaze bounced from her father to her mother and back again. If he didn’t stop scrubbing the back of his neck, he’d rub the spot raw. Wait, why didn’t he want to take her to the castle?

  “Jamie, you know I can’t leave Glen Kirk now. Nor can I stand by and watch my cousin suffer when help is easily at hand. Take Laura to Caerlaverock with you. If she cannot put the ghost to rest, at least she will enjoy a long overdue visit with the family.” Her mother’s tone and convincing words didn’t fool her. What was her parents’ hidden plan?

  “Of course, Darla. I’m sure Herbert will be happy for Laura’s visit and accept any help she is able to provide,” Jamie said.

  Annoyed, Laura scrutinized Jamie’s reaction more carefully. The fact that he didn’t want to take her to Caerlaverock was evident in the death grip he had on his tankard. She lightly touched the top of his wrist and hoped he relaxed his hand before he crushed the cup.

  His muscles jolted under her fingertips. He put down the tankard and tucked his hand under the table.

  “I’m glad that’s decided,” Mother said.

  Ann put a platter in front of her father.

  “Ah, roast duck.” Wesley rubbed his hands together like a child at the holidays. “Has Herbert’s design solved his flooding problem? I was quite taken with his plans when I visited with him last. Unique, very unique.”

  Lisbeth leaned toward her.

  “Do you think Mother’s eagerness to get you away may have anything to do with Bryce being here?”

  Laura chewed on her fruit fritter. She had conveniently forgotten about Bryce’s visit.

  “You don’t think he had the audacity to come here and offer for me now, while we mourn Richard?” She knew the answer as soon as the words left her lips and disliked Bryce even more.

  “Yes, I do. And I think the sooner you’re safely away from Glen Kirk, the better.” Lisbeth straightened.

  “Why me and not you? You’re the oldest,” Laura said.

  Lisbeth’s mouth curved into an unconscious smile. “He’s afraid of me.” She turned to Laura. “Bryce and his cousins didn’t tease me. They think I’m a witch.”

  “Fair enough. But that doesn’t explain why Mother and Father won’t tell me about Bryce’s proposals? This isn’t the first time he’s offered. Why do they keep Bryce’s proposal from me?”

  “I can think of several reasons. One, they don’t like or trust him. Two, they don’t want you to think you’re obligated to marry him. And three, these are tenuous times and they don’t want you in the middle of politics.”

  “Those are still not reasons to keep his proposals from me. I’m not a child.” She leaned toward Lisbeth, her eyes cold. “Everyone thinks I’m a child.”

  “My dear sister, you are not a child. No one thinks you are. Not even Jamie.” Lisbeth glanced past her at the man named, and inclined her head.

  “Jamie,” she blurted, scarcely aware of her own voice.

  “Yes,” he answered.

  She closed her eyes hoping he’d shrug it off.

  “Laura, did you say something?” he called.

  She twisted toward him. “No, I was speaking to Lisbeth. I said, plainly, something had to be done about poor Evan.” She spun back and faced her sister. “Don’t you dare laugh or I’ll tell—”

  “Hush. You adore Jamie. Don’t deny it. That secret is safe with me. Ann is here with spiced wine. Supper will be over soon.” Laura turned away, but Lisbeth touched her arm. “Don’t fret. Mother is aware of what she’s doing. Enjoy your wine.”

  Laura listened to Jamie paint a picture of Caerlaverock and how the stones glowed with the colors of the sunset. He went on and on and made the castle sound magical. By the time he finished, the platters were cleared away and spiced wine almost gone.

  “Come, Wesley. No more discussions about the castle. You’ll forgive us.” Her mother rose from her chair. “We’ve had a long day.”

  Laura watched her parents leave, their heads together in deep conversation. Jamie’s company and talk about the castle had brightened them both.

  “That leaves the three of us,” Jamie said.

  “No, the two of you,” Lisbeth replied. “I’m glad you’re here, Jamie. I thought they would never smile or laugh again. If you’ll forgive me, the stress of the last few days has taken its toll on me as well. I’ll see you before you leave.” She kissed her sister and left the hall.

  She should excuse herself, too, but it wasn’t hospitable to leave guests alone. The tumult of the day quieted. She focused on the fire and allowed herself to relax.

  “Do you have any idea why Darla wants you away from Glen Kirk?”

  She stiffened.

  “I see that she wants me to visit Caerlaverock to help Cousin Herbert in her place.” She spun in her seat and faced him. “The bigger question is why you are against taking me? Because if you are, James Maxwell Collins, I’m sure Gareth or one of the men will gladly escort me.”

  “Wait, lass. I’ve not said I wouldn’t take you with me. I’m simply inquiring as to why Darla is so anxious for you to be away.” His soft tone and softer eyes quieted her. Lisbeth w
as right. It had to be Bryce. She cringed at the idea of marrying that man. She wasn’t interested in him.

  “Has Bryce said anything?” He moved forward in his chair. “Has he done anything to—” His fist pounded the table making her jump. Even he figured out the connection.

  “No, never.” Her hand instinctively covered his to ease his concern. “He makes me uncomfortable.”

  His muscles were hard, but his skin was surprisingly soft. Her hand lingered a bit longer.

  “You said the ghost appeared after Evan died three weeks ago. You don’t have much time.” She removed her hand, got up, and sat by the dying fire. Jamie followed.

  “What do you mean much time?” He stirred the embers to life.

  Laura eyed the muscles under his shirt as he stretched and maneuvered the heavy log. Finished with tending the fire, he faced her. He looked powerful, his chest broad and muscular. Strong angular facial features were in perfect proportion. His deep-set green eyes and the way they changed colors to suit his mood had always fascinated her. Gold strands threaded through his dark ginger hair reflected in the fire’s glow and gave a soft halo effect. A smirk touched her lips. Jamie was no saint. Gossip of his escapades was legendary with the village girls. There was a time when even she dreamt of the smart, playful, and sensitive man. She could hear Lisbeth’s mocking laugh. Nervously she moistened her lips. A young girl’s fascination, nothing more.

  “Laura, you didn’t answer the question. What do you mean not much time?” He sat next to her and handed her a glass of sweet wine. She cleared her mind of the local gossip and childish thoughts. There was more to the man. She let out a deep sigh. She was no more than a sister in his eyes. Still, he was a steadfast friend she could trust.

  “Ghosts appear for a reason, most often to complete some mission. They must finish their task or suffer consequences.” She took a sip of her wine.

  “What are Evan’s consequences?” His mocking tone irritated her. She tried to disguise her annoyance.

  “If Evan doesn’t complete his task within thirty days of his death, he will be doomed to be a tormented soul and haunt Caerlaverock Castle forever.”

  “I’m well aware that Darla, Lisbeth, and you believe in such things, that you even have a gift. Ghost? Trickery if you ask me. I’m not inclined to—”

  “Believe us. You don’t believe my mother is a great healer? You don’t believe Lisbeth can see the future, and you don’t believe I—”

  “I meant no disrespect. I think all three of you are intelligent women. Your mother has a knack with herbs. Lisbeth is insightful and sees situations for what they are. And you, you’re smart about dealing with people. Magic doesn’t make things happen. What a childish idea.” He sat at the edge of the chair. “I believe hard work and taking action bring results.” He paused, staring at the floor with his hands clasped. “So did Richard. He had a hard time believing in your... magic. If it followed the family line as you were prone to tell him, he was proof magic didn’t exist. He didn’t have any.”

  Childish, she screamed in her head. Why the... the big... She counted to ten. Then counted to ten again. From the set of his jaw to the steely look in his eyes… no, his mind was made up and there was no way of making him think otherwise. Who was being childish? His attitude was no surprise. She had let it bother her more than usual.

  “The magic in our family is from the Maxwell side. And, if it’s any consolation, Mother doesn’t acknowledge Lisbeth’s gifts. Although she believes Lisbeth’s ability to heal others is greater than her own. Even you have magic. It’s buried deep, but you have it, but let’s not spend what little time you have with us over these old arguments that we never resolve. Instead, let’s talk about Evan and Angel.”

  “Yes, Evan and Angel.” The strain in Jamie’s face relaxed. Of course, anything to change the topic.

  “Something is not right about their deaths,” Laura said. “Mother is certain Angel didn’t have a quick temper and Evan would never turn traitor to the family. You need to know the truth. If Evan didn’t kill Angel, that means a murderer is in the castle. The Maxwell and the rest of the family are in great danger.”

  She studied his concentration, the wrinkle of his brow. If only she could read his mind.

  “Who found them? Where were they found? What time of day? Who saw them last? If they argued, who heard them?” She let him chew on the questions. Finally, he gave her a hint of a smile.

  “You make sense. There is a lot that may have been overlooked. A closer inquiry to find facts should be done. According to you, we must resolve poor Evan’s death in one week.” He rose to his feet. “We best leave at first light and travel light. No carriage.”

  She rose to her feet as he gave her a sideways glance.

  “Fine. I love to ride,” she said, but groaned inside.

  Chapter Three

  “Do you need all of this?” Jamie ran his hand through his hair.

  Laura crossed her arms in front of her and stood next to two large satchels, a travel bag, a basket of food provided by Ann, and a bedroll. The sound of her tapping shoe on the cobblestone could be heard from beneath her skirt.

  “Wait,” her mother called from the doorway. John followed her through the bailey carrying another bag. “I want you to take a package to the family.”

  “I’ll find another horse.” Jamie rolled his eyes and marched to the stable mumbling under his breath. Laura let out a heavy sigh.

  “Here’s a letter for Herbert from your father. Make sure you give it to him as soon as you arrive. Safe journey.” Her mother hugged and kissed her.

  “Smile and stop looking so pitiful. You may not settle the issue with poor Evan, but you’ll visit with the family in the new castle. Besides, The Ancestors are with you.” Lisbeth’s cheery voice did nothing to dispel her anxiety.

  “Lisbeth, the charms you sprinkle about are your talismans to The Ancestors, not mine. They bring you peace.”

  “As you wish. I find that if nothing else, the charms make me think and sometimes that’s all you need.” Lisbeth tucked a charm into Laura’s pocket. Laura didn’t bother to argue. It was pointless.

  “Is that why Jamie wears one of your charms around his neck? To make him think. Let me tell you, it’s not working.”

  Lisbeth muffled a laugh. “Here, take these with you.” Lisbeth clipped a strand of deep purple agate beads around her neck.

  Jamie marched out of the barn with a pack horse. After his men fastened the baggage to the animal, he tested the ropes and made sure everything was secure.

  “But these are yours. You always wear them.” Laura tried to take off the necklace. Lisbeth slapped her hands away.

  “Take the beads. They’ll help get to the truth of the matter. There are eight on the chain. Don’t lose any. There are consequences.”

  “Consequences?” Laura asked as her fingers brushed over the smooth stones.

  “Lose a bead, lose something precious to you. Don’t give me that sour face. The clasp is tight.” Lisbeth stepped back and admired them. The ancient agate beads and gold chain necklace had been handed down in the family. “The agates sparkle on your neck. That’s a sign they are well-matched to you.”

  “Thank you. I’ll take good care of them,” she whispered.

  “And smile. I don’t know why you hate to ride. You’re such a good horse woman.” Lisbeth kissed her.

  Gareth helped her mount up. Their goodbyes said, Jamie led the small column out through the gatehouse.

  Three miles into their journey, Laura stopped at the crest of the hill where the Glen Kirk road crossed the trail to Ravencroft.

  “It’s a beautiful sight.” The morning sunlight bathed the Glen Kirk castle tower.

  “Yes, it is, but we best continue on. We’ve a lot of ground to cover before we rest.” Jamie prodded their horses ahead and veered off the trail.

  “This isn’t the way. Where are we going?” She glanced down the trail.

  “To Caerlaverock by a different
route.” His exasperated tone didn’t amuse her.

  “Why not the usual route?” She halted her horse and brought the small column to a standstill. “This way is much more difficult.”

  Jamie turned in his saddle, his hand on his battle horse’s rump. “If we don’t stop to admire the flora, this route will take a day off our trip.” He gave his men a nod and moved forward. The riders closed in around her. Her palfrey, shorter than the soldiers’ warhorses, made it difficult for her to see around them. Minutes later she stopped trying.

  After an hour’s silent ride, they arrived at a small clearing. The Bells Burn was a few hundred yards ahead. Six riders emerged out of a thicket and blocked their way. Jamie’s men closed rank in front of Laura and kept her hidden from view. She struggled to see past her protectors and caught glimpses of the riders. They were from Ravencroft, the Mitchell crest clear on their cloaks.

  “You’re on Mitchell land,” the leader of Bryce’s guards said. Her head dodged around until she saw who spoke. She recognized the man. He often accompanied Bryce to Glen Kirk. This confrontation was going to become messy fast unless she did something. Laura pulled her horse back, urged it around the others and caught Jamie’s men by surprise.

  “We are not,” she insisted.

  “Lady Laura,” the man sputtered. “I didn’t notice you with these men.”

  “Lord Bryce has you on patrol? You can’t recognize a woman among five men?” Jamie’s soft cough concealed his laugh. She wanted to swat him.

  “And you have no idea of the Ravencroft boundary? Actually, you’re deep on Reynolds’ land. What, sir, are you and your bullies doing on Glen Kirk land?” She didn’t have to pretend, her temper veered sharply to anger. Now she understood. Jamie’s route, while difficult, kept them on her father’s land to the border.

  Bryce. She had no illusions about his interests. They were for Glen Kirk, not for her. Ever since Richard went off to Wales, he visited with father. To help keep Glen Kirk secure. He strutted around as if he was the heir apparent. Well, he was not, and if she had anything to do with it, he never would.

 

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