by Amanda Scott
Even so, his question could mean only one thing.
“You know about the squint.” In the ominous silence that followed, her stomach clenched and her palms dampened with sweat.
“Coll found it straightaway,” Dev said. “We are well acquainted with lairds’ squints, lass. They are especially common here in the Borders, where a man knows that a visitor from another clan may be friendly one day and an enemy the next. If he can leave such visitors to entertain themselves long enough to judge how they behave and what they say, he may spare himself much trouble.”
“I expect you knew I would watch, then,” she said.
“The truth is that I wondered if you knew about the squint. You did not tell me about it. Nor did Greenlaw or anyone else.”
“Greenlaw knows,” she said. “I don’t know who else does. Father showed it to Rab and me years ago.” Remembering, she swallowed hard. “He said we both needed to know of it, in the event that something happened to him. He… he also told us what he’d do if he learned that one of us had spied on him or his guests.”
Dev shook his head. “If you’re feeling guilty, sweetheart, you need not. I didn’t give that squint another thought until Coll brought those men into the chamber. Perhaps I should have remembered it when you submitted so quickly.”
“You were angry with me then. I did not want to make you angrier, but…”
“… you wanted to know what was happening,” he said, finishing her sentence with alarming ease. “I’ll admit that your defiance irked me, lass, but you have as much right as I do to use the laird’s squint. Does Benjy know about it?”
Surprised, she said, “I doubt it. I did not tell him, but Rab might have.” Falling silent, she listened for Rab’s voice, expecting—nay, hoping, he would tell her whether he had or had not.
“How old were you and Rab when your father told you?” Dev asked her.
“I don’t remember exactly, but…” She thought. “It was not long after Mam died, because Benjy was a wee bairn. We were ten then, I think, mayhap eleven.”
“So your father wanted to be sure that others in the family knew of the squint. And Benjy is the rightful laird now. Moreover, he does not seem to engage much in idle talk.”
“That’s true; he doesn’t,” Robina said. “In fact, I was going to ask you to speak to Ash about repeating things that Benjy says to him.”
He nodded. “I’ll have Coll talk to him. Ash is a good lad, so a hint will be enough. Did you or Rab ever tell anyone else about the squint or use it yourselves?”
She smiled guiltily as she shook her head. “We both knew that Father would react much as I expected you might today. Besides,” she added, “it was a trust that he placed in us. We felt important, knowing his secret and keeping it.”
He nodded. “Our squint at Ormiston overlooks the great hall. It is no great secret, though, because the hole cuts down through a niche in the stairway wall.”
She had naught to say to that, but he continued to look at her as if he waited for her to speak. If it was right for her to know about the squint, he was not awaiting an apology. Once again, though, his expression remained inscrutable.
“You’re sure that you’re not angry with me?” she said, eyeing him closely.
“I’m sure,” he said. “Don’t defy me like that again, though. I don’t usually react so kindly to such defiance.”
“Most men don’t,” she said. “I should not have spoken to you as I did, though, especially in the great hall with so many ears around. But if you expect me always to submit when you issue orders to me as you do to your men, or even when you simply tell me to do something without due discussion…”
His eyes lit then with humor. “I don’t expect such submission from you, Robby, nor would it please me. The thing I liked most about you when Rab first brought me here was your intelligence and the fact that you know your own mind. The trait I dislike most in others, especially other men, is their inability to make a decision. But you should also understand that there may be consequences you will dislike if you defy me or willfully disobey when I command your obedience.”
Fluttering her lashes, she looked up at him through them and said, “Mayhap we’ll get on better, sir, if you do not command. I am persuadable, you know.”
“Do I know that?” He watched her in a way that sent fire through her body again. “Then, come here to me, naughty one. You must tell me what you thought of our messengers whilst I persuade you out of your kirtle and shift.”
As she moved to obey him, her body contracted in an area that she had not known it could contract. Her breathing quickened, her heart pounded, and her knees felt so weak she was unsure that they’d support her. She realized with an abruptness that shocked her that if he had wanted to punish her, all he would have had to do was walk out and leave her standing there so.
Dev was not so cruel. He took his time disrobing her, though, making her ache for release long before he carried her to bed and allowed it.
Dev awoke to hear the privy-stair door opening. Swiftly, he looked to be sure Robby was covered and then fought to suppress the anger that had flared at hearing the intrusive sound. In his eagerness to enjoy himself with Robby, he’d neglected to bolt the door, so it was his own fault that Coll opened it.
Coll halted on the threshold, one hand on the latch, a cold cresset in the other. When he saw Dev and would have turned away, Dev stayed him with a gesture.
Putting a finger to his lips, he got up and quietly drew the curtain before collecting his braies and breeks from the floor where he’d tossed them.
“How long till supper?” he murmured as he stepped into them.
“Not long, sir,” Coll replied as quietly, setting the cresset on a nearby table, along with a twine-tied bundle of fresh candles from a pouch on his belt. “I just came to bring these things up. I didna think…” Pausing, he gave a rueful shrug. “I should ha’ rapped on the door, sir. It willna happen again.”
“I’m awake,” Robby said from behind the curtain. “If you’re talking to Coll, sir, prithee ask him to fetch hot water or send Corinne up with it.”
Dev nodded, and Coll left the way he had come, closing the door behind him.
“Do you want your shift and kirtle, sweetheart?” he asked.
“Aye, thank you. What was Coll doing here? Is there another message?”
“He just brought us more candles, but supper will be ready soon.”
“Why did he think we needed more candles?”
“He brought a cresset, too. Doubtless, he assumes we’re enjoying sleepless nights of coupling and might require more light.”
Hearing her low chuckle, he grinned as he pulled back the bed curtain and handed her her clothing. He was more amused when she kept the coverlet high until she had both her shift and her kirtle over her head and could pull them into place.
“Don’t fret about Coll,” he said. “He has waited these past mornings until I shouted, and he’ll soon know your needs and Corinne’s as well as he knows mine.”
Pouring cold water into the ewer, Dev washed his face and hands and donned the shirt and leather jack he’d worn earlier. Then he waited patiently until Coll brought Robby’s hot water and she had performed her ablutions.
Supper passed quickly, and despite their naps, she made no objection when he suggested they retire early. She took time only to bid Benjy goodnight before returning with him to their bedchamber. They lay talking quietly for a time.
At last, Dev drew her close, turning her so that her back was against him and they could lie curled together like nested spoons. He felt as if she belonged there.
He soon dozed off, only to waken before dawn and hear her talking to someone.
“Marrying Dev was a good notion, Beany,” Rab said as they rode toward Slitrig Water. “He’ll look after you now, and God kens fine that you need a man to keep you out of mischief.”
“I don’t get into mischief,” she said curtly, leaning forward to urge her horse to keep
up with Black Corby. “You must know that I’ve done only what needed doing to keep Coklaw and our people safe.”
“You think you can do all that I used to do,” he retorted. “You cannot, lass. Dev was right when he threatened to take that dirk away. I must have been mad to give it to you and teach you the few tricks I did show you.”
“You don’t mean that,” she protested. “You taught me well.”
He shook his head. “I let you think so. You and I were too close, too much alike for your safety. Had I realized that you’d imitate me and I’d not be around to rein you in—”
“What? What are you saying? What do you mean by that? Just because you’re a man! Why are you shaking me?” she demanded, trying to push the offending hand away, only to realize that Rab had disappeared and she was in bed with Dev.
“Wake up, Robby? You were talking in your sleep and not too clearly, I might add,” he said. His carefully even tone of voice brought her fully awake. “Who taught you well, and just what did he teach you?”
She swallowed. The remnants of her dream were fading, but she had been talking to Rab. Surely, that would not anger Dev, if she said she’d been dreaming about Rab.
“It was Rab,” she muttered, trying to collect her scattered wits. “He taught me to use his dirk before he gave it to me. I told you that.”
“What sort of dream was it? You said something about Coklaw. Do you often talk in your sleep?”
“Mercy, I don’t know,” she said, turning slightly to face him. She could see only his muscular shape against the moonlit room beyond him as he leaned up on one elbow over her. “Janet said naught about hearing me talk. Nor did Bella, and I’ve never slept with anyone else, except our nurse when Rab and I were bairns… and you.”
“In this dream of yours, just what did Rab say about your dirk?”
“Naught that he’d not said before. I told you he does not object to my having it. Although he did say I should not have tried to—” She broke off. Rab had said that to her after the event in the yard. It had not been part of her dream.
“Should not have tried what?” Dev said. “Tell me. Do you dream of him often?”
“How can I answer you sensibly if you keep flinging questions at me?”
“Choose one, and answer it.”
“I don’t think I dream of Rab often, but I don’t know,” she said, choosing what seemed to be the safest question. “I rarely remember dreams when I wake, or if I do, I remember only bits that fade quickly away. Why did you wake me?”
“The boot is on the other foot, lass. You woke me with your chatter.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “May I go back to sleep now?”
“Aye, sure,” he murmured. “I did not mean to cross-question you. You startled me out of a sound sleep, and I thought you were talking to someone here in the room. Sleep now. Mayhap we’ll ride together after the sun comes up.”
“I’d like that,” she murmured drowsily.
When she awoke to find him gone and Corinne bustling about the room in her usual way, memory of Dev’s waking her from her dream swept back into her mind.
Dressing quickly in her old moss-green kirtle, she went downstairs and found him at the high table, finishing his breakfast. When he saw her and smiled, she relaxed. Until that moment, she had not realized she was tense.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” he said, standing to meet her. “Do you still want to ride? I thought we might go toward the Ormiston estate today. I’d like to know if anyone saw our messengers heading back to England.”
“I must speak with Ada Greenlaw first,” Robina said. “I have paid her little heed since the wedding, and I don’t want her to think I’ve abandoned my responsibilities to her. I usually discuss the next few days’ menus with her after I break my fast, but I’ll meet you in the yard shortly after that.”
He agreed and turned to go but stopped at the edge of the dais. She saw Benjy hurrying past the archway at the other end of the hall.
When Dev whistled, the boy skidded to a halt and looked their way.
Dev crooked a finger, and Benjy hurried toward him. His jack had a rip in it, and his shirt looked as if someone had dipped it in muck of some sort.
“What happened to you?” Dev asked. “You look as if you’ve been rolling in mud.”
“Nearly,” the boy said, grinning. “Ash is teaching me to wrestle. I got mud in me eye, though, and when he washed it out, he said I’d better change me clothes.”
“Go on up, then, and wash your face and hands whilst you’re about it. Robby and I are going to ride to the Ormiston estate if you’d like to ride with us.”
“Must I? Ash and me were going to help in the stables.”
“Aye, then, if you offered to help, you should,” Dev said.
Grinning again, Benjy ran off without comment, and Dev glanced at Robby to see that Corinne was serving her breakfast.
Knowing she would likely take longer than she expected, he went outside to give the order for their horses but told Sandy not to keep them standing in the yard. “Have someone bring them out when they see us coming,” he said.
With that task done, he returned to the keep. He’d been meaning to visit the ramparts and talk to the men there but had not yet made time for it. Realizing that he’d be able to see the yard from up there and could shout down to let Robby know where he was, he went on upstairs.
Benjy’s door was closed, so the boy had likely tidied himself, changed his clothes, and gone outside again.
Benjy heard the footsteps outside his door and opened it in time to see Dev disappear around the next turn of the stairs. Grimacing, he tiptoed down the stairs, only to hear someone else coming up. Hurrying back to his room, he decided to wait until he heard Dev going down again. He’d been thinking about that jar of coins that Beany had found and wanted to see what it looked like and how much it had in it. If it was his, as Beany had said, he had every right to see it.
He knew exactly where Rab had kept the carved box that Beany had mentioned.
Robina finished her breakfast and took only a few minutes with Ada to be sure that the housekeeper had everything well in hand. Then, feeling pleased with her efficiency, she hurried upstairs to put on her rawhide boots and fetch her cloak.
Doubtless, Dev had expected her to keep him waiting half the morning.
“When are you going to tell him about me? He can tell you’re still keeping something from him, and he’s been more patient than you’ve any right to expect.”
“I don’t know how to tell him,” she muttered. “He’ll think I’m daft. He won’t believe that you speak to me.”
“Aye, sure he will. I’ve told you things you could not have learned otherwise.”
That was true. He had told her that the ruffians who had taken their stock before had taken more on Easter Sunday. And, when she’d guessed that he meant the thieving Turnbulls of Langside, he had praised her quick wit.
“I’ll tell you now that Dev is no fool. And if he finds out for himself—”
“Stop, damn you! I don’t want to tell him yet. I cannot do it, and I won’t!”
“Och, wheesht now, wheesht!”
A slight noise above had already warned her that she had spoken too loudly. Looking up, she saw Dev standing on the landing outside their bedchamber.
Wincing, she shut her eyes, hoping that she had imagined him.
When she opened them, Dev was still there.
“Who were you talking to, Robby?”
“N-nobody,” she said. “I… I was just talking to myself. People do that, you know, and I… I am…” But she’d said too much. She knew she had.
He knew she was lying. She could see it in his face.
“Come up here,” he said. “We’ll talk in our chamber.”
She tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry. She muttered, “The horses are waiting. We should go.”
“The horses are fine,” he said. “Come.” He pushed open the door to the bedchamber. “This is
not the first time I’ve heard you. And before you insist again that you were talking to yourself, I should warn you that, although I do know people sometimes do that, I’ve never heard of anyone shouting or swearing at herself.”
“I didn’t do that,” she said curtly. When his frown deepened and his jaw tightened, she added impulsively, “If you must know, I was talking to Rab.”
Chapter 21
Stunned by Robina’s declaration but well aware of where they were, Dev gestured toward the open door. “Inside,” he said. “Now.”
She gave him a defiant look but evidently saw that he was in no mood for it, because she remained silent as she walked stiffly into the bedchamber. When she turned to face him, she looked ready for a fight. He did not want one, but he did mean to discover why she had sounded so angry and who had stirred that anger.
“Tell me the truth now,” he said, shutting the door. “First you said you were talking to yourself, but you spoke as you would to someone else. It is not customary to shout at oneself, Robby. Last night, you described your dream at first as if it were real, and you have several times spoken of Rab as if he were still alive. That is common when someone is grieving, but now you tell me that Rab—”
“He does talk to me, Dev. I hear him as if he is standing right beside or right behind me. I’m not saying I can see him there, but his voice is as audible to me as yours is, and the direction it comes from is just as clear.”
“Is he talking to you now?”
“No, but he was. He warns me of things before they happen. That first night… Easter night, he told me the Turnbulls had lifted our kine. He… he told me to send our lads to get them back or to lift some of theirs in return. When I led them myself, he laughed and said he should have known that I would.”
“If that were even possible, your twin should think himself lucky to be dead. Because if I got my hands on him…” He stopped, because she was just watching him, not arguing. “Robina, you know that the dead cannot speak.”