Was Sonia correct? Evan’s ghost is restless for justice, but something else kept poking at her. Not every murderer is brought to justice. This was a good start, but there was more to discover.
“Why would someone murder them?” Laura said under her breath. “Did you mention this to anyone?” Laura asked. Sonia helped her with her chemise and dress.
Sonia straightened Laura’s skirt and placed a metal belt around her waist.
“M’lady, they have it in their heads that Evan is the villain in both deeds. They have no reason to look elsewhere.” Sonia gazed at her with eyes that glowed with an inner fire. “He won’t rest until we find justice for him and the stain is removed from his family.”
Laura pulled up the hem of her skirt and stepped into shoes Sonia placed on the floor.
“They won’t listen to anyone. They think they have all the information they need,” Sonia said. Determination was etched on the girl’s face. Laura was sure Sonia believed Evan and Angel had been murdered.
“Could there be something in Evan’s background, some dispute with Herbert or his family that would drive him to do them harm?” Laura knew the answer before she finished asking her question.
Sonia lifted her chin. “Never, m’lady. He worked hard for Lord Herbert and was recently appointed the castle Marshal with much more responsibility and people to manage. Their marriage wasn’t an arrangement for anyone’s betterment. He was excited and loved his Angel. Lord Herbert and both families supported the marriage. Now, they’ve all tried and judged him. They are so wrong. It makes me... Forgive me, m’lady. I shouldn’t go on so. They’d never listen to me.” Sonia’s shoulders slumped.
Laura knew that helplessness, when nothing one said or did made any impact, even though they had the right answer. Sonia may as well have been a ghost herself. No one would listen to her.
“Calm yourself. I’ll speak to Jamie without any mention of you. He’ll know what to do.”
She took one last glimpse in the polished metal to make sure everything was in place. Laura thanked Sonia and went across the courtyard to the hall for supper.
The great hall was on the first level of the gatehouse. Two fireplaces took the chill off the autumn air. Tapestries dressed the walls and added warmth to the room. Battle weapons were mounted on one wall positioned with the Maxwell’s motto, I grow strong again. Family banners hung with pride from the rafters.
The room was set for the evening meal with trestle tables arranged in a long row down the center of the great hall. The Maxwell and his guests stood on the raised dais. Plates and tankards were set on the trestles to mark each person’s place. Tall candlesticks were arranged on tables, candle light flickering and brightening the room.
“It doesn’t flood.” Jamie came up beside her. “And the castle cannot be breached.”
It can’t be breached from the outside, she thought as Jamie walked her to the fireplace. Someone, and not the ghost nor an alive Evan, according to Sonia, poisoned the crops. She scanned the servant faces as they rushed to fill tankards, pull out more trestle tables, arrange benches and pour ale. Who would she speak to first? Mary? And she wanted to look through the pantry. A chill ran up her back. It was a gruesome thought, but it had to be done.
“We have five days to put Evan’s ghost to rest. What is our plan?” Jamie asked.
Our plan? She stopped her tart response. Her foot grew sore from her frustrated tapping. She didn’t need his help. Easy. She took a calming breath and counted to ten.
“I’ll help you. I plan to speak to Evan and Angel’s families, as well as Mary, the woman who found their bodies,” Laura said.
“The situation between the families is volatile.” He ran his hand through his hair.
“Your help,” she said with as much of a reasonable voice as she could command, then took a calming breath.
“I know you’re more than capable to hold a conversation with people.” Jamie said.
She took a good look at him: standing with his hands on his hips, inflating himself with importance. She didn’t miss the note of sarcasm.
“Both families are on the defensive, their tempers heated. For my well-being, I’ll go with you.” He didn’t ask a question or provide a suggestion. He gave a command and that irked her as much as his tone.
“I don’t need someone to protect me. The family has nothing to fear from me. They have nothing to lose, only to gain.” She faced him toe-to-toe and didn’t flinch. He was not going to intimidate her, or get in her way.
“At this time, only rumors and suspicion swirl among the gossips. If, in your questions and discussions, you come across information that proves Evan, in fact, poisoned the crop, do you think they will let you live? They have much to lose. The family will be tarred and feathered, turned out of the clan as traitors, if not killed. You give a hint of credence to the rumor and innuendo, and they have a great deal to lose.”
“That isn’t going to happen. It can’t.” She touched her throat. “Evan isn’t guilty.” She paled at the picture Jamie presented. The ghost’s goal, the gravity of Evan’s plight came into focus and it startled her. She believed with all her heart Sonia was right. Evan didn’t poison the crops or kill Angel and himself. She still didn’t have a clue why Evan risked being dammed to wander this earth for eternity. Until she figured that out she couldn’t help him.
“And how do you know that?” His eyes were hard and piercing. She met him blink for blink.
“One of the servants told me, in confidence,” she added. “Evan didn’t taint the crops nor did he kill Angel.”
“And you believe this person?” His smirk made the hair on her arm stand up.
“Yes. Why would Evan taint the crops? What would he gain? He had a new advanced position in the household. Mrs. Turner said he was excited getting ready for the wedding. His family supported his decisions. His new position made him a more ardent Maxwell man.”
She touched her beads at her neck. Warm. Besides the beads’ confirmation, her conclusion was logical. Why couldn’t Jamie grasp that?
He stared into her eyes as if he tried to pull the reasoning out of her head. A glimmer of doubt pass in his eyes, and her hopes soared.
“I understand what you mean. He didn’t have a reason. But just because we don’t see one doesn’t mean a reason didn’t exist. I’ll let you speak to them.”
Laura turned away without a word reining in her escalating temper. “I didn’t ask your permission. I was informing you of my decision.”
“Yes, I know. However, in case you’re not right and you find a reason for him to do kith and kin harm and his family is involved, I’d rather be with you. If something happened to you, Wesley would have my head, and other parts of my body that I truly enjoy. Darla would never forgive me.”
She crossed her arms and leveled an icy stare. “Let me understand. You’re not accompanying me because you think I may be right or even in danger, but rather to protect your own sorry...skin.”
Jamie bit the inside of his cheek in an obvious attempt not to laugh. It drove her to the brink of doing him bodily harm.
“I wouldn’t describe it that way.”
No, not a smirk. She misread him. His green eyes turned so dark they almost appeared black. Anger. She didn’t care what he thought.
Did he have any idea the powder keg they sat on? If Evan’s ghost didn’t find rest, the consequences could be greater than the family simply living with an apparition. The drive for justice was a powerful one. She couldn’t let Evan’s ghost take matters in his own hands. She couldn’t predict the consequence to the family. It wasn’t only putting Evan to rest that drove her. In the end, Jamie’s goal was the same as hers, even Evan’s. Protect the family.
Laura had no idea the powder keg they sat on. A traitor was in their midst. Anything could happen and Jamie had no idea where to start his search. Instead, he played her nursemaid following a ghost story.
Not only was Laura feisty and defiant, she was smart. Deep in his
bones, he accepted she would to be a challenge to protect. His best course of action was to resolve the situation with the ghost and return her to Glen Kirk.
“Five days are left. I have no choice but to act quickly,” Laura said as they took their seats at the table.
“We’ll make arrangements to speak to both families tomorrow and follow where that leads us. The sooner we put your ghost to rest, the sooner I can help Herbert with his pressing issues,” Jamie said.
He took the wine decanter and filled their cups. He reined in his growing temper. The blame was his. If he hadn’t mentioned the ghost at Glen Kirk, he wouldn’t be in this difficult situation.
He brought the wine to his lips, but didn’t sip. With Herbert gone, what if the traitor’s focus turned to Laura? She was English and her family was close to Edward, their king. There would be an uprising if anything happened to her while she visited Scotland.
He drained the cup, and gave her a sideways look. When did her features become so refined, her face so beautiful? When he fostered with Wesley, she had been unconventional and played his squire until Darla reminded her she was a girl. He turned away before she sensed his stare.
He didn’t think of her as his squire now. No, Richard would have his personal parts for the thoughts that ran through his head. His protest to bring her with him had been half-hearted. If he was truthful, he looked forward to her company.
He couldn’t deny her logic about Evan and Angel’s deaths. Both their goals were the same: capture the true murderer. Now a traitor was in their midst. Laura was in mortal danger and he was to blame.
Chapter Six
Jamie walked into the solar. A red and green wool carpet with the Maxwell medallion—a stag, its head raised, lying under a holly bush woven in the center—covered the floor. Tapestries of gardens hung on whitewashed walls. A variety of green and black velvet chairs and leather benches were placed around the fireplace. Herbert sat at the table, eating his morning meal.
“If you’re looking for Laura, she’s not here. She ran off to speak to Angel’s mother and the pantry.” Herbert dipped his bread into the honey. “That girl is determined to help the spirit find peace.”
“Faith,” Jamie ran his hand through his hair, a habit he did when exasperated, which of late happened much too often. “I told her we’d go together.”
“Yes, she can be a handful. Like her mother. Darla and I always got into trouble as children. Ask Mara, she can tell you.” Herbert broke into a wide smile. “The two of you at odds? When I mentioned you’d be joining us soon, she devoured her meal and made her excuse.”
“She’s obstinate and headstrong.” He stood by the window and stared into the courtyard. “The woman tries my patience at every turn.”
“I know a young man who has much the same temperament.” Herbert’s eyes twinkled. He toyed with the letter Laura gave him yesterday.
Jamie paced in front of a man he respected for his leadership as well as his devotion to his family and people under his care. Herbert understood him better than most, except where Laura was concerned. For years, he’d hid those feelings from everyone. Then, eighteen months ago, he welcomed the opportunity to join Herbert at Caerlaverock rather than fulfill his duty to The Maxwell at Cumgour.
The day before Richard left to serve his king in Wales, people filled Glen Kirk’s Great Hall to celebrate his departure, but Jamie’s world stopped when Laura walked into the room. He couldn’t breathe. His attraction was more than her sky-blue silk gown, the same one she wore tonight that showed off every fine curve of her body. Or the soft cascade of rich, glowing auburn waves that hung over her shoulder. And her face. Everything about Laura attracted him. The afternoon turned into evening and he never had to look for her. He sensed her presence as if she was an extension of him.
“It’s not that I don’t like her. Truth be told, she attracts me like no other. Even though there are times I want to throttle her.” Other times I want to hold her in my arms and never let her go. He turned toward his uncle.
“Yes, she’s headstrong, but you should have seen her confront Mitchell’s men,” he said. “She didn’t flinch then, nor when the reivers’ attacked. Laura may have been scared, but she didn’t let anyone know.” Any man would be proud to have her, but she was not for him. “She’ll make a warrior a good wife.”
“You’re a warrior.”
Jamie turned on his heel to face Herbert. He hoped to God he wasn’t a warrior. He didn’t have the stomach for it. He handled disputes with discussion and negotiation. Violence was a last resort.
“I’m a farmer.”
Herbert let out a long slow breath. “There are times farmers need to be warriors.”
Jamie had nothing to say to that. He straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat.
“She’s Richard’s sister. I can’t think of her that way.”
“Are you so sure? She’s not a child. She’s four years younger than you. Laura is a beauty, and from what you tell me, a very capable woman. Regarding Richard, you’re probably the only person he would trust with his Laura. Think about that.” Herbert put the letter he held on top of a pile of papers on the table.
Laura. She cheered him on at every turn. Could there be more to their friendship? Until this journey, they’d spoken easily to each other. Now, she challenged every word he uttered. No. Her interests weren’t with him. To Laura, he was a distant relation and Richard’s close friend. It would never go well. They’d kill each other before their wedding night.
“I said Captain Oliver has returned and I’ve new information concerning our other issue.”
Jamie gave Herbert his full attention.
“The unrest grows in the villages along the Nith River. The day you left for Glen Kirk, two suspicious fires destroyed as many granaries. For some reason, the villagers blame me. I’m accused of taking their grain and setting the fires to cover up my theft. The fact that the grain and land are mine is lost to them.”
Herbert passed him warm, crusty bread, honey, and the decanter of wine. Jamie tore off a piece of bread and dipped it into the honey.
“I sent grain to the villagers out of concern,” Herbert said. “They complained I didn’t send enough. I gave them as much as I dared. I can’t deplete the castle’s stores. They accuse me of quarreling with neighboring lords and bringing my disputes down on them. To protect them, Oliver organized a patrol, but the villagers twisted that as well. They grumble that my men watch them and report back to me. Some even harass my men.”
“No matter what you do the villagers find fault. Have you spoken to any of your farmers?” Herbert was vexed for good reason. The villagers’ behavior was unusual.
“Oliver is busy putting down disputes. I plan to speak to Jack. However, with Evan’s death, now is not the time. I can’t imagine a more painful blow for a father than losing a son, or any child, under any circumstances.”
“It all must be to stir people against you. But why?”
“Caerlaverock stands in a strategic position, now an invincible building close to the English border.” Herbert gave him a knowing glance.
“You play the role of a border guard.”
“I like to think of my role as a keeper of the peace, not only at the border. Whoever holds the castle, gains easy access to both England and Scotland. Caerlaverock is a desirable stronghold.”
“Donald warned the traitor worked within the castle walls. I want to work with Oliver to find the betrayer. We cannot waste time.”
Herbert stared at his table. Didn’t the man understand he was more valuable looking for the traitor than holding Laura’s hand?
“I’m glad to see Laura.” Herbert continued to stare at the table as if the answer was carved in the wood. “For her own safety, I’d rather she remained at Glen Kirk.”
Jamie had a sinking sensation. He didn’t like the sudden turn in the conversation. Herbert shook his head. “Until we get to the root of the matter, we need to keep Laura inside our walls. She’s t
itled and English, a bigger target than me. The fact that the reiver gave his life to get to you and her worries me. I appreciate your desire to take a more active part in the search for the traitor, but I cannot do that. And before you say anything, I want you inside the walls, as well. Your neutral position with the English is well known. It’s not a far jump to sympathetic, especially with Cumgour a short walk to the border. You’re as vulnerable as she is.” Herbert tapped the edge of the table. “You have my decision. We’ll keep Laura’s vulnerability between the two of us. She doesn’t need to know.”
“Yes. I understand.” He should be honored The Maxwell thought so highly of him. He should be glad he stayed behind the wall. He was a farmer, not a warrior, so why did he bristle to be in the thick of things?
The very nature of a traitor was to draw one in, earn trust, a most sacred thing, then use that trust against their opponent. To him, traitors were scum with no place in his world.
Jamie took a piece of bread and rose to leave.
“You’ll find her in the pantry. I gave her the key. She’s exploring the room for my whiskey. It’s gone missing.”
Jamie gnashed his teeth. Would the woman ever wait for him? He may have to tie a rope around her. Jamie tried to disguise his annoyance.
“I find it interesting. Our ghost appears to be shy of late. He hasn’t materialized since you and Laura arrived. Maybe all we need to do is keep her here.”
Herbert’s soft chuckle echoed in the corridor as Jamie went down the stairs. He marched across the courtyard and entered the kitchen area.
“We don’t talk about it, I tell you.” Lewis, a seasoned soldier and Angel’s father, pushed past him.
Laura was with Celia. Angel’s mother fidgeted with her apron, her face a combination of sadness and pain.
“He loved his Angel. Now, he won’t talk about or even mourn for her.” The woman’s expression hardened. “Evan, that bastard. She told me everything. Everything, but mentioned nothing of his treachery. Why did she speak to him? Why didn’t she come to me or her father?” The hardened expression on the woman’s face collapsed and quivered. “Why didn’t I protect her?”
The Highlander’s English Woman (The Stelton Legacy) Page 7