“Aye,” said Nathan, trying to get a good look at the cat. “Dirty, thin, cowardly. Nay a grand find.”
“’Tis certain that it belongs to no one so, aye, I will take it home with me. I do try to get the people to cage any dog or cat that goes into season but they dinnae always do it. ’Tis extra work, isnae it, e’en though I have the cages for them and have e’en had a shelter built to put the cages in. So, at times I find myself with a few that need some shelter. I have almost succeeded in getting the numbers down so that any newly born are usually taken in by others without hesitation.”
Harcourt watched as she moved to walk out of the alley, the cat tucked up hard in her arms. He had been at Glencullaich long enough to know that Annys collected the animals tossed aside as avidly as several of the women in his clan did. Glencullaich did not really need yet another stray cluttering its bailey or keep. He knew he had no chance at all of convincing her of that as he listened to her talk soothingly to the still-shaking animal.
“It will need that leg looked at,” Harcourt said as he carefully examined the way the tether had scraped the animal’s leg raw, ignoring the growling noises the animal made since it did not move from its place in her arms with its face tucked up in her armpit.
“Dunnie is verra good at that. He will ken what to do,” she said.
It did not surprise Harcourt when Dunnie took one look at the cat Annys showed him and scowled at her. The man probably saw far too many. It did take some time to detach the cat from Annys, however, before Dunnie could haul it away to fix its injuries.
“Who do ye think tried to grab ye?” Harcourt asked as they slowly walked toward the keep.
Annys had hoped the lack of questions immediately after saving her had meant Harcourt would just accept it all as one of those dangers of market day. She should have known better. Unfortunately, she did not really have all that much she could tell him. Not with any certainty.
“I think it may have been Adam,” she replied. “All of them wore cloth tied around their faces, but just the way he spoke when I made him let go of me made me think it was Adam.”
“Just how did ye make him let ye go?”
She could not fully repress a blush. “I slammed my hip into his, um, groin.”
“Clever. Weakest place on a mon. Instinct most often makes him reach for himself after such a hit as weel.”
“Which is what he did. Then I ran. I kenned that if I could just get back to the opening of the alley, I could call for help.”
“It was a risky thing for him to do.”
“I thought the same.”
“Mayhap he grows desperate.”
“O’er what? The fact that Benet and I still reside here? Still breathe?”
“Aye, exactly that,” replied Harcourt. “The mon didnae appear to be one who had a lot of patience. Nay, nor one who could make any plans that would require it. What he did today is the sort of thing a mon does simply because an opportunity arises and he snatches at it without much thought.”
“I did wonder how he could e’er have thought he would succeed. Weel, I shall write to his father now.”
“Do ye think that mon will be of any help to you?”
“Nay,” she replied as they stopped outside her bedchamber door and she struggled not to think of what had happened the last time they had stood there together. “He was verra angry when David chose to marry me. I was to be Nigel’s wife, nay David’s, he said, and since Nigel was dead, I should just be sent back home. Me and my dowry, of course. David wouldnae send me home as he kenned it wasnae a good place for me to be, nor could he give up my dowry. Many of the improvements we now enjoy were made with it.”
“Then why write to the mon if ye ken that he willnae help?”
“So that I can honestly say that I tried to get the family to help, tried to seek aid from my late husband’s kinsmen. It may prove important if Sir Adam gets himself killed.” She sighed. “And he hasnae actually hurt us yet so I would like it ended ere that happens.”
“He killed David.”
“We ken it, but unless we can catch who put the poison in David’s food, I can ne’er prove that.”
“And ye dinnae think he was planning to hurt you today?”
“What good would that have done him? Benet wasnae with me.”
“Because without ye, Benet would be even more vulnerable. Aye, we would still be here to protect him, but Sir Adam may nay believe that. I think he believes we would leave, that ’tis only ye who hold us here.” He nodded when she frowned, her expression revealing her doubt of his words. “The mon doesnae think a plan through. That is a belief I have become more certain of each time he tries something.”
“I am nay sure any of David’s family has the wit to do so,” she said. “Nay any of the ones I have met. David was their brightest light once Nigel was gone. I oftimes felt they all resented him for that, for being such a respected, learned man.”
“There is one thing that puzzles me.” He hesitated, uncertain of how to ask his questions without risking offense, and then decided to simply ask, “Why, if ye were chosen to marry Nigel, did ye wed David?”
“Ye do ken, dinnae ye, that I was betrothed whilst little more than a bairn?”
“Ah, one of those marriages arranged to make some sort of alliance.”
“Exactly. I was just nearing the age to be old enough to marry when I was brought here to learn all about being the lady of this keep. It wasnae long after that when Nigel sailed off to France. He had heard too many tales of men making plenty of coin fighting for the French and how that might e’en give him a verra good chance of fighting the English. I wasnae heartbroken when he left though I had spent enough time with him to think he would be a suitable husband. So I waited. And waited. And waited. David sent out inquiries when we had gone a year without any word from him. Then we got a short visit from a mon who claimed he had fought alongside Nigel and his men and that he was dead.”
“With all the men that went with him? I assume he took some men with him?”
“Aye, some. I fear he did take our best-trained men but that was only a half dozen or so. But, this mon had no information to give us on their fate. He said Nigel was alone by the time he met up with him.”
“And David accepted the mon’s word?”
“Nay, not fully, although he couldnae think of any reason for the mon to travel so far just to tell us a lie. But, he didnae really want it to be true if only because Nigel was the last of his family. His father died ere I came here and his mother died soon after. We have ne’er received any word that would reveal that mon to have been a liar though.”
“And so then ye married David. Did ye nay ken the truth about his injury?”
“I did. Joan told me. E’en David tried to stutter through an explanation. It didnae matter. E’en a childless marriage was better than being sent back home.” She could see that he now meant to ask her about that last statement so she opened the door to her room. “I must see to getting the letter to Sir Adam’s father written now.”
Before Harcourt could say another word he found himself staring at a shut door. He was already reaching for the latch, intending to follow her into the room, when he accepted that it would be a mistake. The need to know why she would dread going back home to her own family was strong, but he knew he had to stand back and allow her to tell him when she was ready to. Cursing softly, he turned to leave. There was more than enough work for him to do to stop his mind from preying on what Annys had not told him.
Annys listened to Harcourt walk away and breathed a sigh of relief. She had not meant to say anything about why she had chosen to marry David, at least nothing beyond the fact that he would be a good husband and a kind one. Only David and Joan had known that her acceptance of David had had little to do with betrothal contracts, dowries, or some attempt to still become a laird’s wife despite the fact that the laird chosen for her was dead. After the three short visits her parents had made to Glencullaich she suspected t
he people here fully understood her reasoning. Most had undoubtedly guessed that she had married Glencullaich more than that she had actually married David.
No one had told her parents that she had married a man who could not give her any sons. As far as she knew, no one had ever even confirmed that to the rest of David’s kinsmen, either. The men who had gelded David were all dead. Nigel had seen to that before he had departed for France, leaving her with the promise that he would return a rich man in time to marry her.
She shook her head as she walked over to her writing table. Men with their quests for fame, fortune, and land were the bane of women everywhere, she decided. Nigel had been a good man, would undoubtedly have made a good husband, father, and laird. He had been tall, strong, and handsome with his wild black hair and light green eyes. Now he was gone. There was not even a grave site at Glencullaich where one could go to mourn his loss.
“How can such witless oafs rule the world?” she asked aloud as she sat down at her writing desk and began to sharpen her quill point with a small knife.
A soft meow startled her and she looked down to find the cat she had rescued sitting by her chair, watching her with those eyes. She wondered if Harcourt had yet noticed how closely the animal’s eyes matched his own. Frowning, she looked at the closed door and then back at the cat. It was clean, its golden fur freshly washed, and it smelled slightly of the herbs used to get rid of fleas. A clean bandage was wrapped around the leg that had kept it cruelly tethered to a stake in the alley. It looked like it would recover nicely from its wound. It also should be in the stables.
Shaking her head again, she patted her lap and the cat immediately leapt up on it, curling itself into a tight ball. “I dinnae ken how ye got in here but ye will be returned to the stables. Howbeit, for now I dinnae mind the company.”
The cat began to purr, a deep, rumbling noise she found strangely comforting.
“I think ye might weel prove to be some trouble.”
Annys laughed when it opened one eye to look at her and then closed it again. She set a sheet of fine French linen paper in front of her and stared at its pristine emptiness for a long time. This was not going to be easy. How did one politely tell a man to rein in his son before they had to kill the man for his crimes?
Harcourt watched the young man ride off to deliver Annys’s message to Sir Adam’s father. A glance over his shoulder revealed her standing in the doorway to the keep looking worried. He hoped she had not put too much hope behind her letter to the elder MacQueen. No man could be that blind to what his son was doing so he had to be condoning Sir Adam’s actions, if only by ignoring them.
The MacQueens outside Glencullaich had to be helping Sir Adam because he came and went from the area too often and left no trail to follow. It would also explain how he had obtained a spy within the keep itself. Harcourt was now well acquainted with the deep loyalty of David’s people living at the keep or even in the town. Sir Adam or one of his men would have had to work hard over a long period of time to gain an ally, especially one willing to kill David.
He walked over to Annys, resisting the urge to take her into his arms and try to ease her obvious concerns. “Ye dinnae think he will help.”
“Nay.” She sighed. “I cannae make myself believe he will do anything to stop Sir Adam, nay matter how much I argue with myself. All I am nay certain of is how great a part the laird is playing in his son’s plans. The one thing that keeps me uncertain is that I cannae believe the laird would kill David.”
“He didnae, did he. Nor did Sir Adam.”
“Someone had to tell someone here what to do.”
“Aye, but they could talk their way out of that accusation for they didnae do the deed themselves, were ne’er here to do it.”
“Ye have some opinion about who it was, dinnae ye.”
“As has been suggested, I think it is a lass. That means she was wooed by someone loyal to Sir Adam and, I believe, that would have taken some time. This isnae a new plan the mon has. He has been working on it for quite a while.”
Annys nodded. “And I suspicion his plans began when David loudly proclaimed Benet as his son and heir. The lack of a child before that undoubtedly raised his hopes of gaining this place. He may have e’en kenned about David’s injury. Then comes Benet. Benet needs to be verra closely guarded.”
“He is. He will be. That was seen to the moment we all kenned David was murdered.”
She rubbed a hand over her forehead in a vain attempt to dispel a growing ache in her head. “Then I shall start praying my son stays close to his guards.”
“That would be helpful.” Seeing the pinch of pain on her face, he asked, “The letter was difficult to write?”
“Oh, aye. The hardest part was nay saying what I truly felt.”
“Go and rest.” He stroked her arm. “Now all ye need do is wait for an answer.”
“And find the one who betrayed us.”
“’Tis a woman, Annys. Look there first.”
“We already are.”
He waited until she was back inside the keep before going to look for Callum. That young man was not adored by just the children. All the maids tried very hard to catch his eye. The MacFingals had not been around long enough to gain any information and he had plans for those two that would put them on another trail. However, Callum was not going anywhere. It was time he set a skilled spy of his own amongst the people of Glencullaich.
Chapter Six
Harcourt did not know whether to laugh or curse when he found the MacFingals. He had been searching for the two men for an hour. Now he realized he should have gone to where the maids were first. Nathan and Ned were very busy trying to charm two bonnie maids into offering them their favors. If the blushes and giggles of the women were any indication, the MacFingals were close to succeeding in their quest. Although he had thought they would be a good choice to gain some information from the maids, something that might lead them to the traitor, Harcourt did not think they were doing that at the moment. They looked far more interested in warming whatever beds they found to sleep in. When Ned suddenly looked his way, Harcourt signaled him to join him and then impatiently waited while the two men took their leave of the maids in a way that left the women still giggling.
“Has something happened?” asked Nathan.
“Nay,” Harcourt replied, walking back toward the stables where he had begun his long search for the two men, both of them falling into step at his side. “I but need your reputed skill at finding things.”
“What have ye lost?”
“The trail of that bastard causing us all of this trouble.”
“Ah, aye, kenning where he is would be helpful. Ye think he must be close at hand, dinnae ye.”
“It would explain the ease with which he slipped away yesterday. I also think all these wee attacks, and annoyances, are meant to weaken us. Mayhap distract us just enough to nay see what his true plan is.”
Ned frowned. “And that would be?”
“To attack, to take what he wants by force and, I suspect, to make certain that Annys and Benet dinnae survive to continue to argue about his claim for this land.” He stopped, leaned against the side of the stables, and frowned. “He may think to just be rid of Annys and Benet to clear his path to the laird’s chair here but he has already failed to get hold of her and Benet is verra closely watched at all times.”
Nathan nodded. “He has also tried his luck with the courts and the king and gained naught.”
“So that leaves war,” Harcourt said. “If he cannae take Glencullaich easy, he will take it hard.”
“Ye think he may be gathering an army.” Nathan looked around at the men of Glencullaich working in the bailey. “I dinnae think these men are prepared enough to fight an army.”
“Nay,” Harcourt agreed, “but they are gaining skill every day. That may be something Adam doesnae ken. He saw us, judged our skill as a threat, but I dinnae think he has the wit to see that we could weel give some of that ski
ll to these men. And he doesnae have enough respect for them to believe they could learn. These men may nay be full ready to repel an assault on this keep but they have the heart and stomach to do their best to try. Dinnae think Sir Adam kens that either. At least that is one weakness we might be able to make use of.”
“And ye want as much information on where he is and what he is doing as possible.”
“I do. E’en what alehouse he goes to or what maid he is swiving.”
“We will get ye what we can.”
Harcourt watched the two enter the stables to select their horses and sighed. The MacFingals had a reputation for their ability to spy or steal with a skill none could match. The clan had, more or less, stopped stealing since their laird, Ned and Nathan’s eldest brother, Ewan, was trying very hard to shine up the MacFingal name. The skill they had for spying, however, as well as their reputation for being fierce, skilled fighters, had proven very helpful to Ewan in getting some of his far-too-many brothers into good positions with other clans. Harcourt knew the necessity of what he asked of Ned and Nathan but hoped he had not put them in too much danger.
Nathan and Ned had soon selected their horses and packed their supplies. After wishing them a safe journey, Harcourt turned to go back into the keep only to catch sight of Annys. She stood watching the MacFingals leave, her soft, full lips curved into a small frown. Harcourt’s gut clenched with want as the memory of her kiss washed over him. It had been two long days since he had kissed her and she had done her best to avoid him since then.
That would stop now, he decided, as he walked toward her. He refused to be ignored. He wanted more than the occasional kiss snatched when he caught her alone at some weak moment. Harcourt decided he was going to seduce her and he smiled when he reached her side, looking forward to the challenge. The way she looked a little wary did not surprise him. He suspected he looked somewhat predatory, the hunter inside him revealing itself in his smile.
“Has something happened?” Annys asked. “Is that why Nathan and Ned are leaving?”
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