by Amanda Scott
“Oh,” she said, visibly suppressing disappointment as she turned to Sidony and added, “But who is your father, my dear?”
“Macleod of Glenelg, madam.”
“Oh, I thought you looked familiar. I have met your sister Cristina many times, and another—Isobel, I believe her name is. Let me see, she married . . .”
“Sir Michael Sinclair,” Sidony said with a smile.
“Aye, sure, but if Giffard is leaving us now for a time, you must sit and tell me all about yourself. I know your aunt Euphemia Macleod, too, of course.”
“Do you, madam?” Sidony said as Giff kissed her and ruthlessly abandoned her to the daunting task of telling his mother all about herself.
But no sooner had she obeyed her ladyship’s invitation to sit on the settle beside her, than she found her hands warmly clasped again as Lady MacLennan said, “Oh, my dear, I do not know how you contrived to bring him home, but I am so grateful. I do not even mind missing your wedding, although I do think it odd that we never heard the slightest whisper of pending nuptials.”
“I’m afraid they did not ‘pend’ very long, madam,” Sidony said with a smile. “Giffard did not forbid me to tell you all about it, though, so I shall.”
She proceeded to do so, leaving out only the treasure, the fact that the place of concealment from which Giff had rescued her lay aboard a ship he had stolen from the Earl of Fife, and the true reason for their voyage to the Isles.
However, after Lady MacLennan had exclaimed over the wickedness of a member of the royal family’s staging the abduction of an innocent young girl and the wondrous chance that led Giff to discover her whereabouts, rescue her, and find a priest to marry them, Sidony did feel obliged to make one thing clear.
“So you see,” she said, “it was through no contriving of mine that we came here. Giff has business in the Isles, and as Duncraig lies near Glenelg, he thought it his duty to bring me to meet you before taking me home whilst he attends to it.”
“Faith, I recall now, your father is to marry Ealga Clendenen just over a fortnight from now, is he not? They’ve invited us to their wedding.”
“I hope you mean to attend,” Sidony said.
“We certainly do now. Oh, how nice this is,” she went on, beaming. “I just wish my lord husband were home. He will be so disappointed if he misses seeing Giffard after all this time. We receive word of him on occasion, but one can rarely call such news as we hear reassuring. My lord fears Giffard is dreadfully reckless and that we shall one day learn that one of his escapades has killed him.”
“But I thought—” Sidony broke off, realizing that under the circumstances what she thought would probably be imprudent to mention.
But her ladyship would have none of it. “What did you think, dearling? Prithee, tell me if you know aught of why he has scarcely come next or nigh his home in a decade. You cannot imagine how we all miss him. His sisters are away now, visiting cousins, but they, too, will be dreadfully disappointed.”
“I know precious little,” Sidony admitted. “But he did tell me that after his . . . that is, that his father sent him away because he blamed—”
“Oh, no, pray tell me it had naught to do with that dreadful accident!”
Sidony nodded. “He said his father sent him away to foster with his uncle because he . . . because the laird blames him for his older brother’s death.”
“Oh, my dear, I do wish men would talk when things upset them. They even teach their sons to hold their tongues. I feared something like that, but when I dared suggest such a thing to my lord, he dismissed the notion out of hand. How could Giff think such a thing, he demanded, when it had never entered his own head? But, sithee, I did think it and so did tax him with it. He told me I was a foolish woman and insisted our son would never be so daft. It just shows one, doesn’t it?”
“But if that was not the reason—”
“Don’t you see? My husband had kept Bryan at home despite many offers to foster him, and he feared he had spoiled him, because Bryan grew to be as heedless as many now say Giffard is. One had only to say no to Bryan to see him do just what one had forbidden, and my husband declared that should not become the case with Giffard. Sithee, he feared, having only the one son left, he would guard him even more cautiously than he had Bryan. Thus, he sent him at once to foster with my brother on Loch Hourn. Otherwise, he feared, he would never let him go at all. And he had already promised him to Dunclathy to train for his knighthood.”
“Giff still believes he could have saved Bryan just by shouting at him,” Sidony said. “He blames himself for his death.”
Lady MacLennan frowned. “I tried to explain to him that they were both just children, that it was naught but a tragic accident. But my husband remained silent in his grief and then sent Giffard away. And the few times he has returned, Giffard has refused to discuss the past. My husband thinks he holds a grudge because he did not want to go to Loch Hourn, but my lord would rather die than admit strong feelings for his son. And, I’m thinking,” she added sagely, “that being of the same ilk, Giffard won’t thank you for telling me this. We must put our heads together, my child.”
“Mayhap it will not be so difficult, madam,” Sidony said. “I suspect we need only suggest to each man what the other may think. Then, when they meet at Chalamine for the wedding, each will see . . .” She paused, spreading her hands.
“’Tis an excellent notion,” her hostess applauded. “Now, I wonder how much longer Giffard will be. I am persuaded that much more than a half hour has passed.”
“If you will permit me, I’ve been cooped up on that ship for a sennight, and I should enjoy a walk down to the noust. I warrant Giff will be so eager to get me back up here that he’ll bring me faster than if we sent someone to fetch him.”
Lady MacLennan laughed merrily. “Oh, my dear, I know I am going to enjoy having you as a daughter.”
Taking that as permission, Sidony hurried down to the hall, outside, and down the pathway to the sea gate. There she encountered a slight delay until she explained that Lady MacLennan had sent her to fetch Sir Giffard to supper.
The guard grinned. “Welcome to Duncraig, Lady Giffard.”
Thanking him, she hurried on, only to find the Serpent apparently abandoned despite lighted cressets in the noust. Walking around the U-shaped wharf inside it, to the stern of the boat, she saw that its stern port was open and assumed that Giff and the others had gone to fetch provisions to replace those they had used.
“Me lady, what be ye a-doing here, all on your own-some?”
Nearly jumping out of her skin, she saw Jake peeking around the large crate that filled a considerable part of the aft hold. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “Where are Sir Giffard and the other men?”
“Me da’s forward in the wee cabin, talking wi’ a Duncraig boatman,” he said. “The others ha’ gone wi’ Sir Giff to fetch some few things, me da’ said.”
So, it was as she had thought. “But what are you doing?” she repeated.
“This crate,” he said, shrugging. “I were a-wondering what might be in it.”
Realizing the crate must contain the treasure they were carrying, she frowned and said, “You haven’t tried to open that, have you?”
“Nay, then, I wouldna do any such thing,” he said with a virtuous look.
Sidony, having many times seen just such a look on her sister Sorcha’s face when Sorcha was up to mischief, said sternly, “What did you do?”
“Just put a finger in to feel about some,” he said, looking anxiously past her as if he feared someone else might come. “There be a knothole where me fingers can poke through, and what I felt be gey smooth but for places where it feels like summat’s carved on it. What d’ye think such a thing could be?”
She couldn’t imagine, but curiosity stirred. “Show me where you did that.”
“Ye’ll ha’ to come all inside then,” he said, and when she did, he showed her a good-sized knothole in one side of the cr
ate.
As she put a finger through the hole and felt what he had felt, she also felt the hole’s splintery rough edges and looked at him suspiciously. “Was that knot out when you found it?” Seeing the answer on his face, she said, “Jake, you must not snoop about down here. You know what Sir Giff would do if he caught you.”
“Aye, but ye willna tell him, will ye?”
She had opened her mouth to swear she would not when both of them heard approaching footsteps. Quickly, they stepped away toward the wharf just as Giff, leading four others, reached the stern port.
“What the devil are you two doing here?” he demanded.
“Your mother sent me to fetch you for supper,” Sidony said. “The port stood open, so we came in. I hadn’t seen this part before, so Jake was showing me.”
Fully aware that she was lying through her teeth, she did not dare look at Jake, but Giff only glanced at him as he said, “I did let time run away from me. I’ll lock up this port now, lads, whilst we eat, and I’ll send supper down to those of you staying with the ship. When I return, we can finish this.”
“I suppose you have been loading more provisions,” Sidony said as they left the noust together, followed by Jake, Captain Maxwell, and two others. “I’m sure my father will provide more supplies if you need them.”
“Do you think so? I’d be grateful,” he said.
“Must you really come back down here after supper? It’s late now.”
“Aye, sweetheart, I must, but you need not wait up for me. Don’t look like that,” he added with a chuckle when she allowed her disappointment to show. “If you fall asleep, I’ll wake you when I return.”
He left directly after supper to return to the noust, and although she enjoyed talking with Lady MacLennan and looked forward to meeting her two daughters, Giff still had not returned when her ladyship announced that it was time to retire.
“You will have but a short journey tomorrow, my dear, but Giffard did sound as if he means to make an early start, so it would be as well to sleep whilst you can.”
She showed Sidony to the bedchamber she and Giff would share, made sure she had all she required, including the services of a maidservant, then bade her good night.
Sidony was asleep when Giff returned, but true to his word, he woke her. The interlude that followed was brief but pleasurable, and afterward, she lay contentedly, her head resting in the hollow of his shoulder, wondering what the future held.
“What were you really doing in that hold?” he murmured.
She tensed as guilt flooded through her. “I . . . I told you.”
“Nay, sweetheart, it’s no good. You jumped as if I’d shot you with an arrow.”
“Aye, well, but if I tell you—”
“No bargains, lass. I’m content now, but if you don’t tell me, I shall soon be angry, and you don’t want that.”
No, she did not want that, but her concern was not for herself.
“I’ll tell you then, but the fault is mine, not Jake’s. I wanted to know what was in the crate, and there was a knothole, so I put a finger in.”
“Which of you found the knothole?”
“It was my fault, sir.”
“So Jake found it. Was the knot missing or did he pull it out? You lied to me before to protect him, lass. Don’t do it again.”
Her temper stirred. “He is only a boy. Moreover, he is exactly like you are. He takes risks. When he wants to do a thing, he does it, and he does not count cost.”
“Then you ought to support punishing him, so he does not grow to be as reckless as you think I am.”
“What I think is that Jake admires you and wants to be just like you,” she said. “You therefore have a certain duty to provide him with a good example, and that, sir, would seem to preclude punishing behavior that emulates your own.”
He was silent for a long moment. Then, matter-of-factly, he said, “And when you lie to me, is there aught to preclude swift punishment for the lie?”
She swallowed hard. The lie had been impulsive, born of her need to protect Jake. She could not remember doing such a thing before, even when Sorcha had flung them both into mischief and their father had caught them. That she was not a liar by nature was hardly an acceptable defense to submit now, however.
He pulled her closer, rising to his side to loom over her. Gently, he kissed her, and just as gently said, “Don’t do it again, sweetheart. A man wants to trust his wife.”
He bent to taste her breasts, but she fought against succumbing to the sensations he stirred, because relieved as she was, she wanted to know just one thing more.
“That crate does not contain a tumble of jewels and such as I said it did, for its contents felt as smooth as a great slab of marble. Will you tell me what it is?”
“Aye, I will, as soon as I know I’ve got it safe. For if I don’t tell you, I’ve no doubt that you’ll winkle it out of Isobel or Adela.”
“I think they will assume that you’ve told me when they learn we’ve married, and I already know where you are taking it.”
“Faith, how did you learn that?”
“You told me tonight when you said you’d leave me with my father.”
“Sakes, then I’m as bad as the rest. We must all take more care.”
She agreed, but his attention had drifted from her breasts to other parts of her body, and she soon ceased to concern herself with anything else.
Afterward, she slept, and it seemed no time at all before he was waking her and telling her to make haste with her ablutions. He had already dressed, and he left at once to break his fast and see to preparations in the noust.
She, too, dressed quickly, choosing the striped silk kirtle and cameline surcoat. Then, leaving her packing to the willing maidservant with orders to send everything down to the ship, she descended to find her hostess alone at the high table in the hall. Privy screens surrounded it, so although others noisily broke their fast in the lower hall, the two women enjoyed some privacy as they talked.
“I’ve a gift for my son,” Lady MacLennan said when Sidony had finished. “I had thought I’d give it to him, but it may be better if you would do it for me.” Handing her a cloth bundle, she said, “’Tis a MacLennan banner for his boat. Donnie Murchie told me he seems to have only a Norse flag, and he ought to have a proper MacLennan one to display to any Islesmen who may challenge him.”
“I expect the one he had must be on his ship in Galloway,” Sidony said.
“He flies a personal banner aboard the Storm Lass,” Lady MacLennan said. “I’m told it shows just black and gray storm clouds. But you ought to go now, for he said to hurry you. He wants you safe at Chalamine as soon as may be.”
Bidding her a warm farewell, Sidony went down to the landing, where she found all in readiness to depart. Jake, busily wiping dampness from oarsmen’s benches, shot her an accusing look, telling her he had not escaped a scolding for his part in their venture the previous night.
At the first opportunity, she went to him and said, “Is aught amiss?”
“Nobbut having me ears trimmed back for me,” he said grumpily. “I thought ye wouldna tell him.”
“I didn’t,” she said. “He knew when I lied last night, and he asked me if you’d pulled out the knot. One should not expect one’s friends to tell lies, Jake, and I should not have told one to him. I will try hard never to do so again.”
“Did he carry on like a thunder-pelt at ye, too, then?”
The image he produced required her to suppress a smile, but she managed to say soberly, “He was not pleased with me. But when one does something one ought not to do, the honorable thing is to accept responsibility for it. If you don’t want to own up to something, Jake, it is usually because you know you’ve done wrong.”
“That’s true enough,” he muttered. “Mayhap ’tis also because ye ken fine that soon as ye do own up ye’ll ha’ a burnin’ backside and be up to your ears in chores.”
“Do you have a burning backside, Jake?”
He shrugged. “I’d best get back to me chores, me lady. He’s a-coming.”
He went back to drying benches, and she turned to greet Giff.
He assured her that he’d have her at Chalamine before midday if they could but find horses to hire at Glenelg Bay for the last mile or so to the castle.
They had scarcely entered Loch Alsh from the Inner Sound, however, when they saw two galleys ahead, coming swiftly toward them.
Fearing instantly that Fife had found them, Sidony realized that the two longboats were Isles galleys. She caught Jake’s attention and beckoned, then dived back into the cabin to find the banner that Lady MacLennan had given her.
When the boy joined her, she handed him the bundle.
“Take this to Sir Giffard,” she said. “Tell him it is a gift from his mam, and he should show it now.”
“Be them two boats no’ the same ones as near caught us afore?”
“Nay, they are Isles galleys. See how the spray flies from them? They are coming very fast, though, so do not tarry.”
Standing atop the forecastle cabin, gripping the forestay, Giff had likewise known that the oncoming boats could not be those of Fife and de Gredin. He watched them carefully nonetheless to judge if they were friend or foe.
“Master,” Jake said from behind him. “Your lady said I should give ye this. She said I should say, too, that your mam sent it to ye and to put it up now.”
Jumping down to take the cloth from the boy, he shook it out and felt an unexpected surge of pride and gratitude to his mother when saw the familiar red-and-white banner with its nail-pierced heart in the center.
“D’ye ken what this is, Jake?”
“’Tis a war standard.”
“’Tis the MacLennan banner,” Giff said. “Would you like to come back up with me and help me fasten it to the forestay where those oncoming boats can see it?”
“Aye, sure,” Jake said, scrambling up onto the forecastle ahead of him. When Giff was beside him, the boy looked up and said, “Ye’re no’ wroth wi’ me anymore?”
Giff ruffled his already tousled curls. “You deserved the scold, laddie, but I’m gey sorry your da’ heard it. I did not mean him to. That business was between us.”