The Highlander’s English Woman (The Stelton Legacy)

by Ruth A. Casie

  “My brooch. And don’t say you don’t know what I’m talking about. Everyone knows you and Lord Jamie have it.” He pushed his face close to hers. “The brooch is mine.”

  “Your brooch?” she said with an edge of disbelief. “How do you have a jewel like mine?”

  For a moment doubt clouded his eyes. Was it possible she had succeeded? Did he believe she had the brooch twin?

  “A barter. Your life for your pin.” Her ploy didn’t work.

  “Jamie. Now. Laura.” A voice reached inside his hiding place and echoed in Jamie’s head. “By the well,” the deep male tone insisted.

  Jamie stepped out of his hiding place, physically shaken. Laura? Forgetting his mission, he ran through the courtyard into the crowded kitchen passageway to the stairs.

  Danger. The air snapped with it, radiated from the depths of the castle. He treaded down the stairs, listening for any hint of what he had to face. Halfway to the bottom, voices filtered up. He stopped.

  “How do you have a jewel like mine?” Laura. There was indignation and command in her tone. The same tone she used when they encountered Bryce’s men. His anxiety level lowered, but only a notch.

  “A barter. Your life for your pin.” Jamie straightened to his full height. Holger?

  “My life? Do you think you will live if you harm me?”

  “They’ll all think the ghost is the murderer.” He let out a snickering laugh. “You have no idea the jewel’s value, especially to certain people. Much more than your life.”

  Jamie pressed his back against the stairway wall, tormented by the sound of a scuffle. He inched down the steps until he came upon the last turn. He stood still so as to not give away his position. With care he peered around the last bend.

  His instincts said go forward, but if he acted now, Laura could be hurt and the element of surprise would be lost. He peeked around the curve.

  Holger held Laura around the waist, arms pinned to her side, a candle in his other hand. He dragged her down the dark passageway toward the dungeon.

  Jamie fisted his hands as his breath came in ragged bursts of powerless anger.

  “Wait,” the voice in his head ordered.

  He came down the last steps as feet shuffled in the distance and candlelight faded. He stayed in the shadows and followed.

  Holger nudged open the door to the storage room and dragged Laura inside. Jamie followed. Crates and barrels haphazardly stacked filled the area.

  The tinker put the candle on a barrel. “I want your pin.”

  Laura said nothing.

  Holger raised the back of his hand, but hesitated. Instead, he threw Laura to the ground. “One way or another, you’ll give me the pin.”

  Jamie stepped out of hiding. His fist cocked and ready, he grabbed Holger by the shoulder and swung him around.

  Holger’s eyes widened in surprise.

  “Now,” the voice whispered in Jamie’s ear.

  Jamie threw his full weight behind his punch. Holger’s head sprang back. His body followed and collapsed in heap on the floor.

  Jamie stood over the man. “On your feet.” He could stand anything, but nobody touched Laura. He nearly killed Bryce all those years ago when he threatened to harm her.

  Jamie lifted Holger off the floor, and pulled his arm back, ready to hit him again.

  “Jamie.” Another voice reached through the rumble of noise in his head. “I’m all right.”

  Jamie’s heart hammered, his breathing ragged.

  “He didn’t hurt me,” Laura said.

  Jamie threw Holger against the wall. He saw the outline of the leather pouch around his neck.

  Jamie pulled his shoulders back and stepped closer. He loomed over Holger. Jamie was large and used every device at his fingertips to intimidate Holger. He didn’t raise his voice. He stared at Holger. The vile scent of fear leaked into the room, Jamie could almost taste it.

  “Where did you get this?” Jamie poked at the leather pouch.

  “The pin is mine.” Holger’s chin tipped up, defiant, but his eyes betrayed his fear.

  “Another item you bartered for?” Laura asked.

  Something in Laura’s tone made Jamie pull up. Her determined look and quick, precise movement of her fingers startled him. She tied imaginary knots in the air. Did she think her games would work?

  “Yes.” Holger sneered at Laura.

  Jamie’s head snapped back to Holger. “When?” He grabbed the man’s jaw with his thumb and forefinger and yanked it so all Holger could see was his face. “When did you barter? Angel wore the pouch when she went into the pantry.”

  Even in the dim candle light, the tinker’s face paled. His eyes darted everywhere but at Jamie.

  “When?” Jamie demanded, pinching the man’s face in a vise-like grip.

  “I was outside the pantry. Those two were yelling at each other. Something about not wanting to marry. She would have none of that. He told her to be quiet. She kept screaming. I walked away. Thought I would come back later. I got back to the pantry as Mary ran out. So I went in. That’s when I saw her with the linen over her face. He was on the floor with a knife in his chest. The pouch was no good to either of them, so I took it.”

  The strings of the pouch around Holger’s throat tightened. Jamie glanced at Laura, her face intense and determined. He had never witnessed such an expression before. Her fingers worked faster. Was it possible? He thought the movement only childhood games she played with Lisbeth. He brought his attention back to Holger. The man clawed at his neck.

  “The truth,” Laura whispered. “You took the pouch, but Angel fought for it.”

  Jamie pulled off Holger’s shirt. Scars of deep scratches were on his chest and neck.

  Holger pulled at his throat.

  “Make her stop,” he begged.

  “The truth,” Laura said. Holger looked from one to the other.

  “The truth,” Jamie said.

  “Evan left the pantry, straightening his clothes, so I went in to see his tidbit. I found the girl alone. I thought to have some fun. After all, he just had his.” Holger stopped.

  Laura’s fingers kept working. Holger’s face turned red.

  “I grabbed her from behind and put my hand over her mouth. She fought me. I pushed her to the floor. She kicked and scratched. I reached under her skirt, She found my dirk and pulled it out.

  “I got the dirk from her. She started to scream. I held one of the sacks over her face and I told her to stop screaming. When she stopped I took the sack off. She didn’t move. I tried to wake her. That’s when Evan walked in. He went mad.”

  Jamie knew how Evan felt all too well.

  “Evan didn’t know how to fight. I broke his finger, but he kept coming at me. I couldn’t let him win. He’d tell the others. Evan had to die. I killed him.

  “There was blood everywhere. Evan grabbed at me, his bloody hands all over my shirt. He held on tight. I stabbed the girl to make it look like Evan killed her. That’s when I heard someone coming. I pulled off my shirt forgetting the jewel was attached. I hid behind a row of crates and stuffed my shirt beside some crates. I pretended I followed Mary in.”

  “You didn’t try to retrieve the pin?” Laura asked.

  “I didn’t know it was missing until I left the castle. By the time I went back, the pantry was locked.”

  “And the poison?” Jamie asked.

  Holger didn’t answer.

  Laura’s fingers worked another knot.

  “The innkeeper at Cannonbie paid me to poison the grain and light fires. Make it look like The Maxwell did it, he told me.”

  A soft gasp escaped Laura.

  Jamie nodded to Laura. She flicked her fingers and the invisible string around Holger’s neck loosened. She picked up the candle, and Jamie shoved Holger out of the room. “Sir Herbert will deal with you.”

  Holger pushed Jamie into Laura and swung the door shut. The candle went out, sending the room into darkness. The slap of leather against stone echoed th
rough the room as Holger ran through the passage.

  “Laura,” Jamie called, scrambling to his feet.

  “Go after him. I’m not hurt.”

  Jamie shouldered the door, and ran toward the stairs. Laura followed close behind. Halfway to the stairs, the quiet was broken with a terrifying shriek that echoed down the stairs.

  Jamie pulled Laura into his arms.

  “Holger?” she asked. Jamie held her close and stared at the staircase.

  The muffled sound of something tumbling down the steps grew louder until finally, the tinker’s body landed at their feet. His neck was broken. He stared at them, his face a frozen mask of fear.

  Justice. The word echoed in Jamie’s head, not only for Evan and Angel, but for The Maxwell, the clan, and Laura. It was a just end for the murdering traitor. He felt no remorse, just relief.

  Laura strained to see Holger.

  “You needn’t look,” Jamie said.

  “Evan and Angel’s deaths were senseless. They had everything to live for. If Holger hadn’t fallen down the stairs I would have happily pushed him,” Laura said.

  He led her past Holger to the steps.

  “I’ll stay here. Tell Oliver to bring some men. Then, go to Herbert’s desk and take the pin. Holger was adamant about its value.” He pulled the pouch off Holger’s neck. “Perhaps your ghost is looking for this. We’ll give the pouch back to its rightful owner.”

  Laura smiled at his conclusion then rushed up the stairs.

  Oliver jumped out of his chair and sent it flying behind him. “What is it, m’lady?”

  “Quick, bring some men to the well. Jamie needs you.”

  Oliver left with several of his men. She rushed to Herbert’s desk to retrieve the pin.

  “Lady Laura. You’re safe,” Sonia said outside Herbert’s room, her relief evident. “I was afraid he wouldn’t reach you in time.”

  “You sent Jamie. How did you know?”

  “I had some help when I noticed the tinker go down the stairs.”

  “You were right. Evan didn’t kill Angel. Holger killed them both.” Laura opened Herbert’s desk and retrieved the pin. “We even found...” She spun to tell Sonia about Angel’s pouch, but she was gone.

  Laura hurried into the great hall. Jamie and the men brought in Holger’s body.

  “Here’s your murderer.” Jamie dropped Holger’s body on the floor. “He thought to lift Angel’s skirt, but Evan walked in. He was valiant to the end trying to protect her.”

  He held up Angel’s leather pouch. “I found this around Holger’s neck.”

  “Maybe that will satisfy Evan’s ghost,” someone from the crowd shouted.

  “Give the pouch to me,” Angel’s father said. “I’ll take care of my girl. As for him,” he said and nudged Holger with his foot, “he can rot.”

  “He will,” Oliver said. He pointed to his men. ”Take him to the battlements.”

  The men took Holger by his legs and pulled him out of the great hall.

  Jamie and Laura walked with the families to the graveyard gate.

  “That’s...” Jamie stopped dumbstruck, looking at a woman kneeling by a grave outside the cemetery wall.

  “Sonia. She’s the woman who told me we had everything wrong. Whose grave is she sitting by and why is the grave outside the wall?”

  “She’s been helping you? Interesting. She’s at Evan’s resting place. They wouldn’t bury him inside the graveyard.” He stopped and inhaled.

  “What is it?” She faced him, drawing her brows together in concern.

  “Sonia is the woman’s given name. Her father called her his angel,” Jamie said.

  “I had no idea she was... You didn’t recognize her?”

  “I haven’t seen her for four weeks.” His tone was filled with awe and respect. He turned to her.

  Laura was too startled by his words to say anything. Then, another piece fell into place. “Gather the others. I think I know what has to be done.”

  In the mist, before midnight, they reburied Evan next to his Angel. Words of praise were spoken of his honor and sacrifice. Lewis, Angel’s father, buried the small pouch with her.

  “In my heart of hearts, I knew he would never hurt our Angel. These last four weeks, she’s come to me at night to tell me I was wrong. She never lied to me. Let’s leave them both in peace.” Lewis put his arm around Celia and led the way back to the castle.

  Jamie and Laura stood at the graves. “Your magic is powerful. I’ll never doubt you again. I’m glad we found the true murderer, but why did you go down to the dungeon?”

  “I couldn’t sit and wait any longer. I needed to do something. I thought to help Mrs. Turner.” She put her hand into her pocket and felt each of the eight beads.

  “My beads tumbled down the stairs. I couldn’t lose them.”

  The mist behind the gravestones swirled. When it settled, Angel and Evan were behind the markers.

  “Thank you,” Evan said, his left arm around Angel, his little finger clearly crooked.

  “I couldn’t see or speak to Evan.” Angel gazed at Evan. “I never would as long as he stayed outside the graveyard. I couldn’t bear being separated from him.”

  “Hush, love.” He put his finger to her lips. “I knew Lord Jamie—”

  “And Lady Laura,” Angel said.

  “And Lady Laura would make it right.” He faced Laura and Jamie. “My Angel did her part. She watched over Lady Laura.”

  “That’s enough. Tell them,” Angel said with an urgent nod toward Jamie and Laura.

  “Give me a chance.” Evan broke into a knowing smile. “I have a message. Richard loves you both almost as much as you love each other. He gives you his blessing.”

  Tears trailed down Laura’s cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered. She had never seen Jamie stand so still. His chin quivered, he couldn’t speak. He didn’t have to.

  Jamie turned to Laura. Her eager affection reflected in the passion in her eyes. She stepped willingly into his arms as if it was something she did every day.

  He closed his eyes. She was his, at last. He kissed the top of her head.

  “That’s the greatest gift you could give us,” Jamie said to Evan.

  “There is one more thing before we go, Lord Jamie. Treachery still lurks. The pin, keep it safe. Follow its ownership. Let no one take it from you.”

  “I understand,” Jamie said with pulse-pounding certainty.

  “Come, Angel. It’s almost midnight.” Evan took Angel’s hand, and, without a backward glance, walked into the night.

  Jamie and Laura returned to the castle.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” Jamie said as they entered the courtyard. He turned to face her and stared into her eyes. “It is magic.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Fire?” Jamie stood on Caerlaverock’s battlement. He flared his nostrils wide to sniff the air. The acrid odor of burning wood alerted him. Where was the fire? From his vantage point, high on the wall, he sought out the kitchen area, most likely place for a fire. Nothing. He directed his attention toward the blacksmith. Small tendrils of smoke rose from both hearths. He leaned over the wall and concentrated on the forest. The animals would rouse if there was a fire. All was quiet.

  “You smell smoke, too.” Oliver came up next to him. They both scanned the horizon.

  “There.” Jamie pointed east. A plume of smoke spiraled over the trees and smudged an otherwise clear sky.

  “Fire! The village. Mount up. Raise the portcullis,” Oliver bellowed to his men below. His alert quickly spread through the castle.

  Jamie and Oliver raced from the battlement.

  Jamie was aware fires were not uncommon. They ate wood houses with a voracious appetite and in their wake they left death and destruction. He had walked through many charred remains of villages and observed people scouring debris for anything that could be salvaged.

  “I’ll get the men to the village,” Jamie said. “You bring the women and wagons.” Oliver nodded an
d rushed to the castle kitchen where the women had already started to pack wagons with supplies to help the victims.

  The bailey was a tangle of activity, horses being saddled, wagons loading, and soldiers mounting up.

  Jamie took reins from a stable boy and swung into his saddle. His horse sprang ahead and raced over the bridge, Sean at his side. Oliver fell in behind him. Stragglers would catch up.

  Jamie rode hard and kept going past the first buildings. Men with leather buckets broke away from the column and rushed to the well to join the human chain that passed water buckets along from the trough to the fire.

  Jamie and others raced on. He could see flames leaping above the tree tops. He took a deep breath and the odor of burnt grain confirmed his fear. The granary.

  Determination hid his anger. Yesterday Holger confessed to setting the fires. Unless his ghost set this one, someone had taken up his cause.

  Jamie rode through the village. The grain supplies were already low. How much more strain could the people take?

  Controlled confusion ran rampant in the village. He rode past a tide of people with anything that could hold water rushing to help. Others carried small children and belongings away from the inferno.

  Jamie and the men wove their way through the maze of lanes, dodging people and riding around carts. The smoke wafted toward them. The granary wasn’t much further now. He came to the last turn and burst into the granary yard and dismounted before his horses came to a halt.

  The smoke and heat were oppressive. He squinted to see the condition of the building. A portion of the granary roof was in flames. Black smoke belched out the door, covering the granary yard in a gray haze.

  The yard, choked with people, became the center of activity with everyone either pulling sacks of grain out of the building and stacking them at the blacksmith or loading grain onto waiting wagons.

  “Take the horses out of here,” Jamie said. Two village boys grabbed reins and pulled horses away.

  “I’ll have my men relieve the villagers and get on the bucket line,” Oliver said. “The blacksmith organized the older children. He had them create their own line to pass the empty pails down the line to be refilled.”