The Laird's Choice

by Amanda Scott

  Accordingly, Mag said quietly, “With your permission, your grace, I have no objection to Sir Ian’s staying to hear the message I bring. My lady wife and her father know of it. And hearing Ian swear his fealty to you so earnestly has persuaded me that he should know what I have learned.”

  James looked from Mag to Ian to Andrena, meeting each steady gaze with a stern one. Then, to Mag, he said, “As you will, sir. What news do you bring?”

  “That Parlan MacFarlan, who usurped the Clan Farlan chiefship from Andrew Dubh MacFarlan and now calls himself Pharlain after an ancient leader of that clan, has engaged with others to do harm to your grace at your forthcoming Parliament. He expects Murdoch or his eldest son, Walter, to become Governor of the Realm or even King of Scots before the end of May.”

  James’s expression did not alter. Nor did he immediately reply. Then, flicking his gaze toward Andrena and back to Mag, he said curtly, “Lennox?”

  “I cannot speak for the earl, sir,” Mag said. “Logic says he must be involved, though. Pharlain has been thick with him for years.”

  “Murdoch, too, if only because his wife is Lennox’s daughter,” James said. “Sithee, I have summoned this Parliament to call my nobles to account for their actions. Doubtless, many of them will deny what they’ve done. Certes, my cousin Murdoch will. He’d liefer I ken nowt of his doings or those of his father, my uncle Albany, during my absence and, too often, in my name. Many things that I’ve heard about Murdoch’s elder two sons and their minions seem especially shameful.”

  “What have they done, sir?” Andrena asked.

  James grimaced. But not, Mag thought, because the lass had questioned him.

  Andrena shot a glance at Mag to see if her question had displeased him. When his lips twitched as if he would smile at her, she felt warmed all through.

  She turned her attention back to Jamie Stewart.

  “Many things I’ve heard make unsuitable tales for a lady’s ears,” he said. “I will recount one, though, because, having sickened me, it stays ripe in my mind. One of my cousin Walter’s minions, offended by the way a woman in his charge spoke to him, ordered her shod with horseshoes.”

  “What did you do?” Andrena asked, feeling sick herself at the image.

  “I ordered the same done to the villain who ordered her punishment, and then I hanged him. His cruelty crippled the poor woman for life.”

  “Mercy,” Andrena murmured.

  “Just so, my lady,” James said. “Such horrors should never be visited on innocent commoners in my realm. They depend on their lairds and masters for their livelihood and security. But, during my long absence, my nobles evidently acquired a greater taste for exploiting their dependents than protecting them.”

  “Not all of your nobles, my liege,” Ian said.

  Andrena nodded her agreement.

  “Not all,” James admitted. “But I want to know who did and who did not.”

  He looked at Mag. “I do thank you for your timely warning, sir. But I must know more and will expect you to learn as much as you can, and quickly.”

  “I will, your grace, by my troth.”

  “Whilst we both consider what course you might take to accomplish that task, you had further business to lay before me, I think.”

  “Aye, sir, regarding the chiefship of Clan Farlan and control of the MacFarlan estates. I speak now for Andrew Dubh MacFarlan, whose cousin usurped his title and seized his patrimony by force after you fell captive to the English. We heard that your grace demands to see the charters granting lands to your nobles, to prove their entitlement. Andrew possesses such a charter, an ancient one, for the MacFarlan estates. Pharlain does not.”

  “MacFarlans have shown little loyalty to me,” James said to Andrena.

  She nodded, saying, “Parlan and his men obey Lennox, your grace. In times past, my father did, too. He fell out with him when Lennox supported the first Duke of Albany in seizing the governorship of the realm shortly before your cap—”

  “I see,” James interjected. “What are Andrew Dubh’s sentiments now?”

  “He is now and has always been fiercely loyal to your grace,” Andrena said. “I ken fine that I may not kneel and swear an oath of fealty to you as Sir Ian did. But ’tis said you are a man who passionately believes in honor and duty. If you would accept my word in my father’s stead, I would pledge it with all sincerity.”

  “Will Andrew Dubh attend my Parliament?”

  “In troth, your grace, I doubt that he will. See you, he fears that Parlan will seize Tùr Meiloach, too, if he should learn that Father had left. So he never does. Come to that, other nobles would likely oppose his presence in Perth. Many of them no longer consider him to be chief of our clan.”

  “I do accept your word in your own behalf, my lady. I ken fine that women can be as honorable as men, and as honest. As for your father’s fealty, I must hear that from him. But I accept your word that he will swear to it when he can. I wish I could accept your word for the charter, too, but I cannot. Until I establish a rule of law throughout Scotland, so that people can know and understand the laws they must obey, ruthless men will continue to hold lands by ‘right of the sword.’ ”

  “I understand, sir,” Andrena said. “My father will understand, too. He has kept Tùr Meiloach safe for nearly two decades since Parlan seized the rest. I warrant he will hold it as long as he must.”

  “Next year, I will visit the Highlands to meet with chiefs there and anyone else who wants his say,” James said. “Andrew can present his charter then.”

  Turning back to Mag, he said, “I have thanked you for your warning, sir. It occurs to me that as you were Pharlain’s prisoner, you risked all to warn me. So it pains me to say that whilst I will be careful, your warning can do no good without legal evidence connecting specific men to the plot you discovered. I may suspect many who are involved. Indeed, I believe I could make a near-accurate list.”

  “Some have made themselves obvious, your grace.”

  “To establish a rule of law, I must show that even the Crown must obey our laws. I cannot punish, let alone hang Murdoch, his sons, Lennox, or Pharlain without unequivocal evidence of each man’s involvement in the conspiracy. Sakes, Lennox must be eighty years old by now. Think of the outrage amongst our nobility, especially the guilty, if I should hang such a graybeard without proper evidence.”

  Ian said, “Does not his being liege lord of so many clans whose chiefs have either declared against you or refused to declare for you speak for itself?”

  Hearing Mag’s breath catch, Andrena glanced at him. As usual, she could read nothing in his expression.

  Mag was angry but knew that Ian had merely spoken the truth. Doubtless he had forgotten, however briefly, that the Galbraiths were one of those clans.

  Jamie was shaking his head. “Before I hang anyone, I must have evidence strong enough to persuade the lords of Parliament to agree to dire punishment.”

  Andrena said, “What sort of evidence must you have, sir?”

  “Documentation—letters and such—or witnesses who can corroborate what Magnus has heard. Such evidence will be gey hard to get. Sithee, my lady, for years, the dukes of Albany and other powerful nobles abused their power to seize land unlawfully and bestow it on others to entice them into their thrall. The new owners dare not cross them lest they be next to lose the land. That must stop.”

  “You have stopped some of it already,” Ian said.

  “I have, aye,” Jamie agreed. “But, I must stop the rest, and many of the worst offenders, like Murdoch, are mine own Stewart kinsmen. Sithee, after the English captured me, my nearest heirs seized control of the realm, and not one made a push to win my release. I want to hang all of them. But I must do it legally.”

  The men talked more about acquiring what James needed, much of which would require setting spies amongst Murdoch’s men, Lennox’s, or Pharlain’s. From Mag’s knowledge of Pharlain, he knew that such plans were fraught with peril.

 
He considered and rejected other ideas, listening with only half an ear to Ian and Jamie. Then Andrena said, “Pray, sirs, which clans have declared against his grace? Would their members not be the most likely ones involved in this plot?”

  Mag froze and got a rueful look touched with ironic amusement from Ian.

  James said, “It matters not whether they have declared themselves against me if they are acting against me, my lady. But I can easily imagine that each of the clans loyal to Lennox has at least a few members involved in this. Therefore, the clans to watch would include the Grahams, Lennoxes, Buchanans, Galbraiths, and mayhap even the odd Cunningham or Campbell-MacGregor.”

  Mag’s father loomed in his mind’s eye. His memory spilled angry words from Galbraith’s mouth, declaring that Jamie Stewart was too young to be King of Scots and would never be as strong as his uncle Albany. Mag dared not speak.

  Andrena stared at Mag, startled by the jolt of fear that she’d felt from him when James named the suspect clans. Surely, Magnus was not fearful for himself, although he was certainly a Galbraith, or had been. His attitude toward his captivity, despite reluctance to talk about it, seemed to be that it had happened, was over, and he would fight against going back. But he did not fear Parlan. Of that she was sure. So his fear must be for his clan, and she could not blame him for that.

  Aside from the strong awareness of Mag’s presence that she felt whenever they were together—doubtless because of his size—she had paid small heed to him while the men talked with James. But she did sense his nearly paralyzing fear.

  It enveloped her, and yet, when she looked at him, she saw no evidence of fear in his demeanor. He watched Ian as Ian made a suggestion, something about setting men to watch the suspect clans. Ian seemed oblivious to Mag’s unease.

  James was watching Mag closely.

  When Mag’s gaze shifted to the King, James said, “As I have noted, sir, the Laird of Galbraith numbers amongst the clan chiefs who have not declared one way or another. Do you swear fealty on his behalf as Sir Ian did for the Colquhouns?”

  “I’ll willingly swear my fealty, your grace,” Mag said. “But I’ve seen nowt of my father since before my capture. I cannot speak for him or for Clan Galbraith.”

  “Then you will learn Galbraith’s sentiments as fast as you can, sir, and report them to me. The clan will do as he bids them. But he may know more than we do about this plot, and Parliament meets just over a fortnight from now. If he does know aught of importance, you will persuade him to stand witness against the others.”

  “Aye, your grace,” Mag said with a nod.

  His speech was terse, his demeanor calm. But Andrena could still sense remnants of his fear. That alone attested to its strength.

  James said, “Get word to me as soon as you know Galbraith’s intentions. I ride to Stirling today and to Perth on Thursday week.” Lifting one hand slightly as if to signal their dismissal, he paused, saying, “Mark me, gentlemen. We must all accomplish much in little time. Your loyalty won’t be worth a cat’s whisker to me if their villainous plot succeeds.” Then, with a flick of his hand, their audience ended.

  Ian and Mag gave the respectful nods of acceptance that Highlanders allowed themselves by way of a bow to authority, and Andrena made her curtsy. Then she and Mag left the chamber together with Ian following.

  In the courtyard Ian sent a lay brother to tell his men that they would depart before the midday meal, and they asked Brother Elias for food to take with them.

  When Andrena was alone with Mag in their bedchamber, she made sure the door had shut tight before she said, “You seemed disturbed when his grace named the Galbraiths, sir. Art fearful that they may be involved in this plot?”

  He was stripping off his new plaid and sark, replacing them with the well-worn ones. Meeting her gaze, he said, “I’ve nae cause to be fearful, lass. I ken nowt of what they’ve been about for these two years past.”

  “That seems more reason than not to be fearful,” she said, unpinning her coif. “In any event, we must go to Inch Galbraith straightaway, must we not?”

  “I promised Andrew Dubh that we’d return to Tùr Meiloach as soon as we’d seen Jamie, to tell him what happened. You ken fine that I did, for you were there.”

  “Father would understand, sir. After all, the King has ordered you to learn your father’s sentiments and if the Galbraiths will support him.”

  “Nevertheless, I told Andrew that we would return to him first. So we will.”

  Unable to think of an argument that she could imagine would sway him from that course, Andrena finished changing her clothes and prepared for departure.

  By the time Mag and Andrena descended to the yard, Ian had gathered his men, and the horses were ready. The sumpter ponies were soon loaded, as well.

  Mounting quickly and in silence, they rode out together through the tall gates, which shut with a clang behind them.

  Once on the trail along the winding river toward the harbor, however, Ian said, “We’ll cross to Dunglass and take the galley to Dumbarton, Maggy. We can get beds and horses from Gregor and ride on tomorrow to Inch Gal—”

  “Nay, then,” Mag said. “I promised Andrew Dubh we’d return straightaway.”

  “But he expected you to be away for some time, seeking Jamie, did he not?”

  “Nae matter,” Mag said. “I promised we’d go straight back. I’ll see my father afterward. I can reach Inch Galbraith soon enough from Tùr Meiloach.”

  Ian did not give up as easily as Andrena had. But Mag prevailed.

  Andrena began to suspect that his main reason for going right back to Tùr Meiloach was to deposit her there. Then he could go to Inch Galbraith by himself.

  She would just see about that.

  Nothing occurring to delay them, they reached the village harbor shortly before midday and found the two cobles where they had left them. After returning the horses and sumpters to the stable and loading their gear, Ian’s men rowed their party across the Clyde to Dunglass. The galley sat quietly at the castle wharf.

  They boarded the galley straightaway and were soon off again and away.

  Andrena had kept an eye on Mag, hoping he would not notice how closely she watched him. Whatever had frightened him had released its grip, and she was almost sorry that it had. She had hoped the incident meant that she was finally beginning to connect with him. If so, it was going to be a slow process.

  Instead of the bench they had occupied coming south, from which she had been able to watch the landscape only as it passed behind them, she moved to one at the stern near the helmsman. From there, she could see where they headed. She had thought Mag was right behind her. But when she turned to sit, she saw that he and Ian had paused on the gangway to talk. Since it looked as if they might talk for a while, she turned her thoughts to Jamie Stewart.

  She had liked him and had felt a swift connection to him, as if they thought the same way about many things. She could not have explained that bond to anyone but her sisters or their mother. But she had understood that Jamie spoke his thoughts as he thought them. He did not seem to have a devious thought in his head. He had liked her, too. Even in his comment about her beauty, she had sensed only sincerity, not a hint of the lustful scrutiny she was used to sensing in many men that she met.

  She believed that Ian was likewise sincere in his fealty to Jamie and that Ian had spoken truthfully about being of one mind with Colquhoun. She wished that she could reassure Mag that he could trust the Colquhouns all in all, and Jamie, too.

  She did believe that they should visit Inch Galbraith straightaway, because to ignore a royal command was more than unwise. That was especially true with Jamie, because it was important for them all that he learn to trust them.

  The galley passed below the looming rock of Dumbarton less than an hour later. The river Clyde began to widen then until they had officially entered the firth.

  Ian ordered the sail up to ease the labor of his oarsmen. Then he and Mag disappeared into the t
iny forward cabin, and two hours later, the galley turned north out of the firth and into the Loch of the Long Boats.

  The weather cooperated more than it had on their journey south. With the winds behind them, Ian signaled for his helmsman to ship oars. A pleasant silence ensued after the men obeyed, leaving only the noise of the wind in the huge sail.

  Mag strode down the gangway to sit beside Andrena, saying as he did, “Ian has been showing me his maps and rutter, lass. So, I hope you have not been lonely. I hope, too, that you understand why we must return to Tùr Meiloach.”

  “I understand that the King presented you with a dilemma, sir,” she said. “But to ignore a royal command…”

  “I told Jamie that I would learn what he wants to know, and I will. Sithee, lass, the fact is that your father still wonders if he can trust me. It would not do to break my first promise to the man.”

  “I do see that, aye. What sort of a man is your father?” she asked. “I would like to have some ken of him.”

  He hesitated, frowning. But at least the frown was one of reflection, not annoyance, so she stifled the urge to press him when his silence lengthened.

  Then, with a rueful grimace, he said, “You do deserve to know more about him. Sithee, we argued before my brother Will was killed and I was captured.”

  “Ian said Will died when you were captured. So Parlan’s men killed him?”

  “They ambushed our party, aye. Will was one of the first to fall.”

  Again she felt his emotion. Looking at him, seeing the bleak look in his eyes, she knew that she was not sensing his pain in her usual way or at its full strength.

  “It must be terrible to remember such a thing,” she said. “Then to be captured and be unable to see to his burial or be with your family—”

  “They would not have wanted me,” Mag said. “In troth, lass, I’m not sure that my father will want to see me now.”

  “Mercy, I should think he would be ecstatic to see you.”

  His lips pressed together and he did not reply.