Lord Keeper

by Tarah Scott

“You are at a disadvantage, my lord, as there is no one to enlighten you.”

  “Am I now?”

  Something in his manner gave her pause. “Unless you find yourself possessed of second sight.”

  “I have been told I have an uncanny way.”

  Victoria smiled. “Oh, aye, I can see, ’tis the truth. A French Scot, er, French Highlander…uncanny would be the word.”

  He threw his head back in a hearty laugh. “Come, my lady.” He slipped a hand under her arm, moving her in the direction of the castle. When they reached the kitchen door, he bowed again. “Thomas MacPherson, at your service.”

  Victoria smiled. She had been right. He was a handsome devil. Almost as tall as Iain MacPherson with similar dark hair, but his eyes were a deep green instead of the brown ones belonging to the devil who was her captor.

  A ruckus in the vicinity of the gate caught her attention and she turned along with Thomas. A dozen men were entering the front gate. Victoria noticed a slight difference in the green of their tartans.

  Thomas must have caught the question on her face, for he said, “They are the Hyram MacPhersons. Soltion Castle is little more than an hour’s ride to the north.”

  Victoria glanced at him. “There is another castle close by?”

  He nodded. “There is a village forty-five minutes northwest, and Dawilneh is the closest, only twenty minutes to the north. You thought we alone occupied the land?”

  “I—I had not thought of it.”

  “Twenty minutes alone in these hills is a lifetime,” he remarked.

  “With all these MacPhersons running about, how dangerous could it be?”

  A smile curved his full mouth. “Ahh, but not all of them are Iain MacPherson.”

  She snorted. “Aye, well, one must take what one can get.”

  “You would prefer a Fraser?”

  Her blood chilled. “I would guess not all Frasers are the same, either.”

  “Just as all MacPhersons are not the same.”

  “If that is intended to discourage me, your efforts are wasted.”

  “There are MacPhesons who would not hesitate to act just as the Frasers did. Though Iain would not let such actions go unanswered.”

  Victoria gave him a narrow-eyed stare. “So, the MacPherson lord will not tolerate rape, but has no qualms about holding a woman against her will until she consents?”

  “Aye,” he agreed with obvious amusement. “There is a world of difference.” His expression sobered. “A difference you have already learned firsthand.” Giving her a push in the direction of the door, he turned.

  Her name, as if whispered on the wind, met Victoria’s ears. She whirled, nearly colliding with a tall warrior. She fell back in unison with his sidestep, and he shot her a frustrated look. Another man following close behind said something low in Gaelic. They passed from view, and she saw Thomas striding toward the well. As if sensing her scrutiny, Thomas looked over his shoulder. Their eyes met and she searched his face, but found nothing to indicate he had just called to her. With a polite nod, she turned and entered the kitchen.

  Victoria halted inside the door. Preparations for the day’s meals were in full swing and the bustle made the courtyard seem almost deserted.

  “Come in, lass.” Maude said.

  Victoria hesitated and the housekeeper patted the chair beside hers with a flour covered hand. The women made no effort to hide their interest as she crossed the room, and Victoria realized she’d been right; her story was already common knowledge.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Maude said once Victoria seated herself.

  Victoria glanced at the bread the housekeeper pounded on the table and nodded a thank you to the young girl who set a cup of tea in front of her. “What about?” Victoria lifted her cup and blew across the top of the steaming liquid.

  “The lasses and I think you ought to tell us your name.” Victoria started to respond, but Maude cut her off. “You need not worry, we will not tell Iain. In fact, we think that is the best part.”

  Victoria looked over her cup at Maude. “What do you mean?” She sipped the tea.

  “We find it interesting that you do not want to tell him your name.”

  “I explained last night.”

  “Aye, and we understand. But if you want revenge, the best thing would be to tell everyone but him. Well, not everyone,” Maude amended as she pounded the bread. “You could not tell any of the men.” She winked. “Cannot trust any of them.”

  Victoria set her cup on the saucer. “You mean to play a trick on your lord?” What sort of women were these? “He has a temper. What will you do when he discovers the truth?”

  “Aye, he has a fierce temper,” Maude said with what Victoria recognized as genuine glee. “But he would never raise a hand against a woman. So,” she dusted her hands on her apron, scooted her chair closer, and leaned on the flour-covered table, “what do you think?”

  The other women gathered closer. The sparkle in Maude's eye was contagious, and Victoria couldn't deny the thrill at the thought of thrashing the man a little.

  “Now listen,” Maude said, “those of us here are the only ones you can trust, and we won’t tell anyone else. In order to have our fun, we do a few things no one will be able to put their finger on, but will make the laddies wonder.”

  The thought that joining in the jest might form a connection with the women struck Victoria as a strong prospect for freedom. “Such as?” she asked, careful to keep her interest noncommittal.

  “Little hints, like when someone asks where you might be, we start to answer, but then pause and answer as if we thought of something better.”

  “As if you were about to say one thing, then changed your mind.”

  Maude nodded and Victoria noticed something played in her eyes. A deep love of mischief, she realized, and almost laughed.

  “We must be careful,” the housekeeper went on. “If anyone asks us outright do we know your name, we will not lie. Instead we say something like, ‘what a funny idea, has she told you her name?’ or some such thing. That way no one can say we lied.”

  Victoria surveyed the women. “’Tis an interesting idea, but, I would not have thought…” She left off and understanding flickered in Maude's eyes.

  “Aye, there is no love lost between the Highlanders and the English, eh?”

  “I did not mean to offend,” Victoria murmured.

  “Never mind. You did not say anything we have not all thought. Now, what do you think?”

  Victoria surveyed the eager faces. “Ladies, we shall teach these men not to toy with us.” And, perhaps, find a friendship that might hold the key to escape from Fauldun castle.

  Chapter Six

  Victoria stared at Maude, unable to believe what the housekeeper had just said.

  “’Tis no jest,” Maude said. “Before Lily married Iain’s father, she was carried off by another man.”

  Victoria squinted against the sun that hovered beyond the morning mist and surveyed the women assembled around her. “Is stealing women an illness among Scottish men?”

  The task of gathering kindling came to an abrupt halt as a round of laughter went up.

  “I had not thought of that,” Maude said as she plopped her small behind against an oak tree. Dropping the bundle of twigs she held, the housekeeper turned twinkling eyes on Victoria. “Though, I do not think you can say Scots, the lowlanders havena’ the bollocks for such things. Now a Highlander…” The merry note in her voice trailed off, leaving silence in its wake until she spoke again. “It is strange in its own way. Men do have a way of getting what they want. But Liam did not get his way. Iain’s father forced him to give Lily back. Everyone was surprised.”

  “Why?” Victoria asked.

  “The worst was assumed, of course.”

  Victoria inhaled the scent of pine mingled with the heather that grew beyond the grove. The women again grew quiet, and she knew some sort of response was required from her. “What do you mean, ‘the wor
st was assumed?’”

  “It was not so bad for Lily,” Nellie cut in with a wicked grin. “But then, you understand how she felt, eh, Victoria?”

  “Nellie,” Maude admonished. “You know nothing of it. You were not yet even a gleam in your father’s eye.”

  “It does not matter,” Nellie pouted. “Everyone knows Liam was a handsome man. Still is. Not so different from Iain.” The girl cast Victoria a knowing look.

  “How should I understand how his mother felt? She must have been pleased to return home. In that, I can imagine her feelings.” Cold silence followed her statement, and she realized her mistake. Victoria squeezed Maude’s hand. “Surely you understand I miss my own home?”

  “Your home?” Nellie snorted. “Montrose Abbey is home to men who have taken a vow to no longer be men. No woman has taken the vow of celibacy there, and you are no exception, mistress.”

  “True,” Victoria answered, “I did not take the veil, but what has that to do with this situation?”

  “Well, now, ’tis curious you should say that,” Nellie said.

  “Och, Nellie,” Maude interrupted. “Have you no sense at all?”

  “Sense?” Nellie’s voice turned petulant, and Maude wasn’t the only one who rolled her eyes heavenward. “What can you mean? She is acting innocent.” Nellie turned back to Victoria. “You mean to tell us that was not Iain MacPherson leaving your cottage the other morning?”

  Victoria looked at Maude. “Is the child insane?” Maude looked sheepish and Victoria frowned. “What is wrong with all of you?”

  “Lass,” Maude said, “we saw Iain leave your cottage the morning he left.” At Victoria’s gasp, Maude grasped her hand. “No need to be embarrassed. None of us blame you. He is a charmer, and we all know he would have you, if he had not already.”

  “You think—so this is what you mean by saying I would understand how his mother felt? Just because Lily was untrue—”

  “Nay.” Maude straightened from her restful position and wagged a finger at Victoria. “She was my friend, and I will not have you say she was unfaithful.”

  Victoria angled her head. “Yet you have no compunctions about believing I would lie?”

  Maude shook her head. “You misunderstand, Lily did not lie, nor was she unfaithful. She was betrothed to Iain’s father, but ’twas not Eric she loved, but Liam Fraser.”

  “Fraser?”

  “Aye. He leads the Fraser clan. He is the man Iain will deal with concerning the men who…well, you know.”

  Victoria stared. Sweet God in heaven. What sort of lunatics had she fallen in with? “You say Lily loved Liam. Why, then, did she not marry him?”

  Maude’s clear green eyes darkened. “Because, that bloody bastard Eric forced her to honor their betrothal, then never forgave her for loving another man.”

  Victoria gaped. “Lord MacPherson’s mother was kidnapped by another man, yet his father forced her to marry him?”

  Maude blinked, then said, “There is no likeness between that situation and this one. Iain is a different man. Eric’s lust for vengeance fueled the hatred between us and the Frasers. Three bloody decades it lasted.” She shook her head. “But Iain, well…making peace was not easy, even for the mighty Clan Chatten. No one knows that better than Iain.”

  “Clan Chatten?” Victoria repeated.

  “Aye, The MacPherson clan is one of three clans that form the confederation known as Clan Chatten. Well, they and their close relatives.” She winked. “Highlanders tend to have a lot of relatives, but ’tis the Chatten we depend on. Many’s the time they lent a welcome hand in dealing with the Frasers.”

  “If Liam Fraser is so terrible, how was it possible to make peace with him?”

  Maude’s face softened. “I do not think it was any easier for him than for Iain. He loved Lily. Still, it was no easy task for Iain to break through the barrier the feud created.”

  “The will to see no more of his kinsmen lying dead in the dirt,” Rachel added.

  Everyone nodded in agreement.

  “So you see,” Maude went on, “you have a good man in Iain MacPherson.”

  “I have—he is not my man!” Victoria whirled toward the sanctuary of her cottage, but halted and turned to face the women. “Who says they saw him leaving my cottage?”

  Maude shifted uncomfortably, and Victoria read in the housekeeper’s eyes that it was she who had spread the lie.

  * * *

  Victoria caught sight of Thomas as he emerged from the stairway leading down from the front wall and crossed the courtyard toward him. When they met at the well, Thomas flashed a smile.

  “Good afternoon, my lady. What brings you out into the afternoon heat?”

  Victoria glanced at the midday sun. “It is not so hot.”

  “Mid-August. The warmest time of the year.”

  “I do not envy your winters.” Victoria shivered at the thought of Fauldun Castle covered in snow. “How do you stay warm?”

  Thomas glanced at her, a strange look on his face. “Iain will teach you soon enough.”

  Victoria ignored the warmth that rippled through her cheeks. “When will he return?” she asked.

  Thomas’s eyes danced. “You need not worry, chérie. Your lord will return soon enough.”

  She lifted a calculated brow. “You assume too much, sir. ’Tis not personal concern that prompts my question.” She turned her gaze ahead. “You know Father Brennan is here?”

  “Indeed.”

  “You rule in your lord’s absence, do you not?”

  “Aye.”

  “I mean to return to Montrose Abbey. Father Brennan will take me.”

  “Most kind of him.”

  “He came with two monks, for protection, you understand, on the ride home.” Victoria managed to keep a level tone despite the desire to pummel him when she glimpsed the smile hovering on the edge of his mouth. “Though he says no one would dare accost a priest. It is unheard of. Still—”

  “I cannot allow it,” Thomas interrupted.

  “If safety is an issue, send more men with us.”

  “Ah,” was his only response.

  “The sun is well advanced in the sky.” Victoria looked up, confirming the obvious. “It would be unwise to begin a journey at this late hour. We can leave by first light.”

  With an effected sigh, Thomas took her hand and laid her fingers in the crook of his arm, then started toward the castle. “I had no idea you wished me dead.”

  Victoria gasped. “What can you mean? I have no wish to see anyone dead, not—not even him.”

  “Yet you ask me to release you, which would mean my death.”

  * * *

  Victoria kept her gaze on Thomas, who sat behind Iain’s desk. He smiled in response to her request to return home. She hadn’t believed he would grant her freedom. Father Brennan, however…fool that she was, she had expected help from him.

  She forced back rising panic and said to Thomas, “You have no right to keep me.”

  “I do not have the power to release you.”

  “You have a great deal of power, my lord. You told me yourself, you rule while Lord MacPherson is away.”

  “Aye. But the master will return, and if he finds his most treasured possession missing, this lowly servant would receive no compassion.”

  “Possession?” Her heart jumped to a gallop. “I have no use for being a possession. Perhaps it would suit you?”

  “Forgive me, my lady.” Thomas bowed his head. “You must know I meant to say the laird protects that which he considers sacred.”

  “Oh, aye. I understand.” She shifted her attention to Father Brennan. “You said I had the right to choose. I choose to leave.”

  “I cannot take you from Fauldun Castle while Iain is away. Thomas is right. Iain would have no mercy with regards to such a transgression. ’Tis understandable.”

  Victoria kept her gaze locked with his. “For a man.”

  Father Brennan nodded. “Aye, a man, especially on
e in Iain’s position, cannot allow such a challenge to go unanswered.”

  “I see.” She rose and cursed the tremble in her legs. “This talk of possessions and challenges gives me much to consider.” Victoria commanded her legs to remain steady as she crossed to the door. She didn’t look back as she left the room and pulled the door softly closed behind her.

  * * *

  Victoria made a grab for the portfolio on the uppermost shelf in the library and almost tumbled from where she balanced with one foot on the lower bookshelf. She reached again, but jerked her head around at the sound of voices in the corridor. Sweet Jesu, were they headed for the library?

  The voices drew nearer. She dropped back onto the carpet and scanned the room for a hiding place. The sideboard was too short. Her gaze then fell on the large cabinet in the corner of the room. She grabbed the candle sitting on the desk and hurried to the wardrobe. Victoria flattened herself against the wall and squeezed between the stone and the cabinet. She was forced to draw in her stomach in order to squeeze past and just barely fit.

  She blew out the candle, then froze in the darkness. Sweet Jesu, her captors were likely to think less of her being in the library than hiding behind the cabinet. She groaned. Why hadn’t she come during the day to search for the plans that outlined the castle’s layout?

  “That is your reward for impatience,” she muttered.

  Victoria felt for the edge, intending to slip from behind the cabinet, but jerked her hand back at hearing the door open. She plastered herself against the wall and held her breath.

  “I will light a candle from the sconce in the hallway,” Thomas said. A moment later, light filtered from around the cabinet.

  “Sit, Father,” Thomas said. “A drink?”

  “Aye,” Father Brennan replied.

  The tinkle of glass, then liquid being poured into the tumblers followed.

  “We ought not to have meddled,” Father Brennan said.

  “You call it meddling, Father?”

  “You are very much like your cousin,” the priest said in a cross voice.

  “Iain had not been to Montrose Abbey in some time. He was unlikely to have seen her had I not sent him there on that ruse.”