by June Francis
They ate in silence for a few minutes and then he said, ‘I am concerned about Robbie. I might have to leave him here when I return to Kingston-on-Hull.’
‘He’s welcome to stay as long as needful, as are you,’ she said, having forgotten her resolve of a few days ago. ‘Although I know you must be impatient to go to Scotland,’ she added hastily, remembering Diccon.
Mackillin reached for more bread. ‘A thought occurred to me whilst I was searching the outhouses.’
‘And what is that?’ she asked, refilling his cup.
‘Husthwaite mightn’t have left the house.’
She started and spilt some of the wine. ‘You mean he could be hiding here?’ Involuntarily she glanced over her shoulder.
Quickly he said, ‘There is naught to fear. I will protect you.’
All night! she thought, gazing at his strong frame and remembering what it felt like to be held in his arms and thoroughly kissed. A thrill raced through her and she was unsure whether it was due to excitement or fear. She gulped down half her wine before asking should they search the house.
‘I will search the house. You will go into your bedchamber and lock the door and remain there until I tell you that he is either under lock and key or not here.’ He finished his bread and held out a hand to her. ‘Your keys.’
She gazed at his outstretched hand and then took another sip of wine. ‘I will not be locked away like a damsel waiting to be rescued in a tale of romance. It makes more sense for me to accompany you. Left alone, I’ll picture him coming up behind you and hitting you over the head—and where will that leave me?’
He pulled a face and rubbed his unshaven jaw. ‘Why couldn’t you imagine my hitting Husthwaite over the head?’
‘I don’t care about his getting killed, but I do…’ Her voice trailed off as she realised what she’d been about to say and quickly lowered her gaze beneath the sudden blaze in his hazel eyes.
‘I’m gratified that you care about me.’
She flushed. ‘You are a guest in my home and not only have you saved my brothers’ lives, but you’ve saved mine.’ A tiny smile lifted the corners of her mouth. ‘You were of great help. And now it makes sense for me to help you search the house. I know it better than you.’
He gave in and suggested that Cook came and sat with Robbie, whilst they combed the likely hiding places for Husthwaite. They wasted no more time in conversation.
As soon as they had finished eating, Cook was fetched. Then Mackillin picked up a lantern and they made their way over to the stairs.
‘We’ll need to go as silently as we can,’ whispered Cicely, light-headed with wine and excitement. ‘Your boots…’
He stared down at her with a fixed expression. ‘If you’re hinting that Husthwaite might hear any noise I make, might I say that whispers carry.’
She was about to tell him what she thought of that remark when she caught the twinkle in his eye. ‘Whatever you say, Lord Mackillin,’ she mouthed silently.
He was not fooled by her assumed meekness. A lass who could handle a poker the way she did had fire in her belly. He could imagine her standing shoulder to shoulder with him before his enemies. He blinked and shook his head to rid himself of the thought and mounted the stairs with the lightest of treads.
Smiling, she followed him on tiptoe. The light from the lantern sent shadows dancing along the walls as they moved silently along the passage leading to the guest chamber and those of her brothers. Mackillin checked them all, but the rooms were deserted. They turned and went along the passage the other side of the stairway. She hummed nervously beneath her breath. He turned and raised both eyebrows. She put a hand guiltily over her mouth. He carried on walking and she swiftly followed him in the direction of a small guest chamber and the bedchamber that had once belonged to her parents. A lump rose in her throat and she wondered what they would think if they knew she was wandering about upstairs alone with this man. No doubt her mother would be shocked, but perhaps her father would see the sense in their actions. He must have had a lot of faith in this Scots lord to entrust Jack into his hands.
Mackillin stopped in front of a door and held out a hand for her keys. The small guest chamber was devoid of life and he locked it behind them before going on to the next chamber. Suddenly they heard a noise coming towards them out of the darkness. Both froze. Cicely thought if Husthwaite really was up here hiding behind a door or cupboard, he might spring out and hit Mackillin with a blunt weapon or even stab him. A cold draught fluttered her skirts and she drew closer to him.
He did not speak, but reached out a hand and she slipped her small one into his larger one. The sound was coming from the main bedchamber and the door stood ajar. She looked sidelong at Mackillin. He handed her the lantern and drew his sword. He indicated that she back away and pushed the door wide with his booted foot and entered swiftly.
She waited several moments, listening to her heartbeat. Then there came a yelp and what sounded like falling furniture. Something shot out of the room, brushed her skirts and was gone. She turned and gazed along the passageway and saw her favourite mouser. A bubble of laughter rose in her throat and she was giggling as she entered the bedchamber to find Mackillin sitting on the bed, rubbing his shin. A stool had been knocked over. The cold air was coming from the window where the shutters were open. A branch of ivy creaked in the wind and a twig tapped against the wooden shutter. Who could have opened it? Could Husthwaite have been up here and escaped that way whilst they were in the hall? No. It didn’t make sense. Probably it was just the wind.
She sat down beside Mackillin on the bed and breathed in the scent of wood smoke, horse and his own particular scent. ‘Are you all right?’
He nodded and then laughed. ‘A cat! Husthwaite has gone. I was thinking myself into his shoes and what I would do in his situation. But he’s run like the coward he is.’
‘Will you go after him on the morrow?’
‘Aye. Most likely I’ll see if he’s returned to his house.’ He glanced down at Cicely. ‘You’re not frightened, are you?’
She wasn’t with him there, but was tempted to say, ‘A little. Husthwaite might have concealed himself in the armoire.’ There was a smile in her voice.
He got up and had a look and then came back over to the bed and sat closer to her this time. ‘I meant you’re not frightened of being alone with me?’
She shook her head. ‘To be honest, I feel strangely at peace now all the excitement is over.’
He was far from feeling that all the excitement was over and was struggling with the temptation to kiss her lovely neck and then her mouth. He imagined her breasts squashed against the hard wall of his chest, but maybe this time she would resist and smack his face. Besides, hadn’t he made up his mind that a marriage between them would be a mistake?
‘Why are we sitting here so long?’ she murmured after he made no sign of moving. ‘Are you not feeling well after your fight with my kinsmen and then falling over in here?’
‘I am fine,’ he said stiffly. ‘You deem me so weak that I need rest after so little exertion?’
‘Of course not,’ she replied apologetically. ‘I thought you’d had lots of exertion what with riding from Kingston-on-Hull after rescuing Matt and then coming here and all that you’ve done since. I was worried that you might have hurt your head on top of everything else.’
‘Well, I haven’t,’ he said, getting to his feet and walking over to the door.
Picking up the lantern, she followed, disappointed that he sounded so cross with her. They walked silently downstairs. After making certain Robbie was all right, she asked Mackillin what he was going to do about her dead kinsman.
‘I’ll find somewhere to put him, don’t worry yourself, lassie,’ he grumbled.
She decided that she was not going to worry and bid him goodnight and went up to her bedchamber, leaving it to him to make certain the house was secure for the night. She doubted that the twins or Tabitha and Martha would make the jour
ney from the village home in such wild weather until morning. When she reached her bedchamber, it was to look about her remembering how she had felt when Mackillin had called up to her. Excitement! She had felt relief as well, but excitement had been her uppermost feeling. He was back and life was no longer drab. He had rescued her brother and come to her aid. Instead of going to Scotland, as was his intention, he had set his own affairs aside once he realised they were in trouble. She thanked God that he had not abandoned her brothers and herself. Whether this was due to his friendship with her father or because it was just Mackillin’s way, she did not know. What she did know was that he deserved the reward her father had offered him. As she slipped beneath the bedcovers, Cicely remembered saying to him that she didn’t know how to thank him. He had looked at her in such a way that her belly had began to quiver—such a strange feeling. She fell asleep and dreamed of his kissing her in such a way that her whole body shimmied in response and she was in danger of surrendering herself to him—and that would never do.
Cicely gazed at Mackillin, watching his strong fingers wield a knife as he peeled an apple. Tabitha and Martha had returned at sunrise not half an hour after Tom, who had ridden on ahead of the twins. Now she and Mackillin were just finishing breakfast and awaiting the return of her brothers. The tumultuous emotions caused by her dreams had calmed somewhat, due, no doubt, to his lordship’s manners being impeccable. She thought of Diccon and determined to go in search of him once Mackillin left for Scotland as he surely would. She then thought of Husthwaite and felt loathing towards the clerk. He must have escaped on his horse, but whether he had reached Knaresborough was a different matter altogether.
Cicely was roused from her reverie by Mackillin offering her a slice of apple on the point of his knife. She thanked him. ‘What will you do with our prisoner?’ she asked, popping the fruit into her mouth.
‘I’ll leave it to your brothers and Robbie to make that decision. It’s possible, if threatened with being taken before the sheriff, that he might be persuaded to give you more information about the border branch of your family. I aim to call at Master Husthwaite’s house before returning to Kingston-on-Hull.’
‘So you are leaving Robbie here?’
He nodded. ‘He needs a few days to recover from that bang on the head. Also, you could do with a man who’s a canny fighter, until either Master ap Rowan or Diccon arrives.’
‘I appreciate your doing so, but that does mean you will have to travel alone,’ she blurted out.
He put down the knife and gazed across at her with a faint smile. ‘You mustn’t worry about me.’
She said lightly, ‘Why should you think I am worried? From what I have seen of you, it’s obvious you’re capable of looking after yourself.’
He nodded. ‘I’ll stay here until your brothers arrive.’
They did not have to wait long for the twins’ return. Within the hour they came riding into the stable yard. Cicely hurried down the steps as her brothers dismounted. Immediately she rushed over to Matt. ‘I’ve been so concerned for you.’ Her voice was muffled against his shoulder as she hugged him.
‘I’ve felt the same about you, Cissie.’ He held her at arm’s length and his blue eyes gazed into her pale face. ‘You really are unhurt? Husthwaite and our kinsmen didn’t harm you?’
‘They might have if Mackillin hadn’t arrived on the scene.’ Cicely glanced towards the steps where his lordship stood, watching them. He winked and she felt the blood rush to her cheeks.
Matt’s expression was thoughtful. ‘I can understand why Father held him in such high esteem. How do you find him, Cissie?’
‘He has courage and is thoughtful, also more cultured than I ever thought possible of a Borderer.’
‘And his appearance?’
She did not answer immediately, but gazed up at Mackillin as he descended the steps. In a low voice she said, ‘Why do you ask me such a question?’
Matt’s youthful features were austere. ‘I have my reasons.’
‘I do think he deserves a reward for all that he has done for us,’ she murmured, ‘but how do you reward a lord?’
‘Strange that you should say that,’ said Matt.
Cicely waited for him to say something more, but he just walked away and over to Mackillin.
‘Well met, my lord. Thank you for saving my sister.’ Matt held out a hand.
Mackillin shook it before placing a hand on the youth’s shoulder. ‘I am angry with myself that I allowed Husthwaite to escape.’
‘It’s possible his escape was ill fated,’ said Cicely, coming up to them. ‘It was a foul night with no moon or stars to light his way. He could have perished.’
‘At least Mackillin has rid us of another of our kinsmen,’ said Jack, joining them. ‘We’ll need to bury him. What of the other?’
Mackillin told the twins his plan.
Instantly Matt said, ‘I appreciate all you are doing for us, Mackillin. I just wish you did not have to return to Scotland and could stay longer. It should have been our stepbrother who was here to help us.’
‘He has other things he deems more important,’ said Jack, scowling. ‘More important than Cissie, who she tells us he is going to marry.’
‘Stop it!’ ordered Cicely. ‘Leave Diccon out of this. He has no idea Father is dead, so how can he know we have need of him?’
Mackillin said sternly, ‘There is truth in what your sister says. Now I must be off. I will ride to Knaresborough and see if I can discover what has befallen Husthwaite before returning to Kingston-on-Hull. I will only return here if I have vital news of him that affects your safety.’
‘Fare thee well, Mackillin,’ said Cicely, knowing she was going to miss him, which made it even more important that he was out of her life as soon as possible.
His face softened. ‘I wish you well and hope that you and Diccon will be happy.’ Without a backward glance, he strode across the yard towards the stables.
Matt turned to Cissie. ‘He’s worth ten of Diccon, who is a fool for getting himself involved in a fight that he could have avoided,’ he said. ‘His loyalty certainly isn’t to this family. No wonder Father didn’t want you marrying him and offered you to Mackillin.’
‘Hold your tongue, Matt,’ warned Jack. ‘I told you to keep quiet about that.’
‘Father did what?’ she asked, thinking she must have misheard him.
Matt did not answer, but pressed his lips tightly together and went after Mackillin.
Cicely turned on Jack. ‘Did Father really offer me to Mackillin?’
He hesitated. It was enough to convince her of the truth. She was aghast and said in a choking voice, ‘How could he do such a thing without ever mentioning Mackillin to me all the years he had known him? I deem he did it to try to prevent my marrying Diccon.’
Jack rubbed his aching arm. ‘I can understand your being upset, but Mackillin did refuse his offer.’
Her brother’s words made her feel worse. ‘Refused! But he hadn’t even set eyes on me. Did he know Father was leaving me a dowry of a thousand pounds?’
‘No sum was mentioned, but Mackillin would have a fair idea of your worth. Some men would have leapt at the offer but Mackillin can’t be bought.’
‘You mean he doesn’t want to marry a merchant’s daughter now he is a lord,’ she snapped.
‘He never said that,’ said Jack sharply.
Her eyes glistened with angry tears as she remembered the times she had spent in Mackillin’s company. She had grown to like him and had changed her opinion of the kind of man she had believed him to be when first she set eyes on him. She had believed that he had found her comely and enjoyed her company, but it seemed she was wrong because, if that was so, then he would have changed his mind about refusing her father’s offer and could have wooed her before broaching the subject. The truth was that he did not want her for his wife. ‘I cannot bear any more.’ Her voice was just a thread of sound. ‘I’m going inside. I don’t ever want to see Mackilli
n again.’
Chapter Six
An hour later Cicely sat at the table with her brothers. Having decided to leave it to Robbie to interrogate the prisoner, they were now discussing their father’s will. She had calmed down somewhat after it had occurred to her that Mackillin would have hardly discussed her father’s offer with her when he knew that she was intent on marrying Diccon.
‘So what do we do?’ asked Matt. ‘We know the will Husthwaite has is a forgery, but where’s the genuine one?’
‘Destroyed, probably,’ murmured Cicely, trying to concentrate on the matter in hand.
Jack said, ‘Perhaps Owain has a copy of the will. He and Father were not only friends, but related by marriage, so that would make it a real possibility.’
‘Then he will have to be informed of his death—and soon as possible,’ said Matt.
Cicely stared at him, thinking that her brother’s features had taken on a new maturity since their father’s death and the threat to his own life. She sighed. He was too young to take on the heavy responsibility thrust on him by their father’s murder. If Diccon was here he could have helped him. She decided to speak her thoughts. ‘You’re both needed here. I will go and visit the ap Rowans. Hopefully they will have had word of Diccon. I must speak with him.’
The twins stared at her and shook their heads. ‘You can’t,’ said Matt. ‘We can’t spare anyone to accompany you and you cannot go alone.’
Cicely gripped her hands together until the knuckles showed white. ‘Of course I can. If you two hadn’t been born, I’d have inherited and made all the decisions despite being a woman.’
Jack frowned. ‘But we were born, so Matt makes the decisions until we know whom Father has appointed as our guardian. You couldn’t possibly make the journey across the Pennines on your own. You’re a woman and it’s too dangerous.’
‘I have a plan,’ she said with a smile.
‘What sort of plan?’ asked Matt, his eyes alight with curiosity.