by Amanda Scott
“How did you guess who my father is?” she asked abruptly.
He shrugged. “I didn’t. My grandmother deduced who you were. Even so, we could not be sure she was right without asking you.”
“She deduced it! Mercy, how?”
“She was a close friend of your grandmother, Lady Marjory Cockburn. Moreover, Gram says that she is your godmother and you are her namesake.”
“Lady Meg is my godmother? I didn’t know. If anyone ever told me as much, I wasn’t old enough or informed enough to know what it meant. Neither my father nor my brothers pay much heed to kirking, although I do remember going to kirk with my grandame Marjory. When I grew older, I went because she said it was our duty to set a good example for our tenants and servants. In troth, though, I rarely understand what Father Jonathan preaches. He is not, I fear, a sensible man.” She paused. “I don’t think Lady Meg ever came to visit us after Grandame died.”
“You must ask her about that,” he said.
When she grimaced at the thought of quizzing Lady Meg about anything, he added gently, “I should tell you that she believes you should simply stay here. I disagree with her, though, because at some point you will have to sort this out with your family. The only sensible way to do that is to face them and have it out.”
“Well, if that’s what you think, I mean to cast my lot with Lady Meg,” Molly said flatly, hoping for the first time that her ladyship was as fierce as she had feared. “Truly, sir, if you send me home, you might as well kill me yourself.”
“Now you are exaggerating,” he said mildly. “I expect that your father and brothers will be angry with you, lass. Tuedy, as well. But you did run away and doubtless caused them all considerable concern.”
“Concern!” she exclaimed as a chill swept through her. “Do you think any of them cares a whit for me beyond my ability to run a household—a duty, I would submit to you, that my father and brothers were willing to sacrifice by forcing me to marry Tuedy. Prithee, my lord,” she added with an unexpected catch in her voice, “do not send me back there. At least give them all time to let their tempers cool.”
To her horror, she saw his face set and feared that he had made up his mind. She had already said more than she ought to have said, though, and had doubtless overstepped what he would allow. Biting her tongue, she looked toward the keep and saw a small, dark-haired lassock standing in the entryway, watching them.
“I think that someone has come seeking you, sir,” Molly said quietly.
Wat let his gaze follow hers and said, “That’s my little sister Annabella.” Meeting his gaze across the yard, Annabella waved imperiously. “If Gram did not send her out here to fetch me,” he added, “I shall be much surprised.”
“Before we go in, my lord, may I ask what you mean to do about me?”
“Aye, sure, you may ask,” he said. “But you must know that I cannot hide you here indefinitely. Your family and your husband have a right to know where you are. You do make a good argument for letting some time pass before we tell them, though, and I agree that it would be unwise for you to face them alone.”
“Most unwise,” she said. “I know you think I’ve exaggerated—”
He shook his head. “I am not blind, lass. I can see your bruises, so you may stay until I decide what we should do. You will be safe here, and the women of my household should be sufficient to protect your honor.”
“Thank you,” she said fervently.
“We’ll see if you thank me later,” he said. “Such a delay may infuriate them all more. Also, if Will suspects that I had aught to do with your leaving—”
“Mercy, why should he?”
“I have never credited him with vast intelligence,” Wat said. “Moreover, you did come here, and he seems always to think the worst of people. He rarely, if ever, bothers to seek out the facts of a matter.”
She bristled, saying, “Will can be hard, but he is not stupid.”
“Come now, and meet Annabella,” he said, determined to avoid that debate. Urging her back toward the keep, he added, “She is just eleven and will pelt you with questions, but you may snub her if you do not want to answer them. She knows she ought not to quiz our guests, but she cannot always contain her curiosity. Gram says that Bella is like her youngest sister, Rosalie, was at that age. She is named after their mother, our great-grandmother, who was Annabel Murray.”
“I will never keep your family’s names straight in my head,” Molly said.
“It won’t be so hard. You’ll see.” He was grateful to note that although she had taken offense at his description of her brother, she had recovered her calm.
Bella was bouncing on her toes with impatience, albeit looking as solemn as she had since their father’s death. She had barely spoken since then.
As they drew nearer, he realized he had not yet decided whether to follow Lady Meg’s advice and let Molly remain just Molly or to introduce her properly.
Apparently Annabella’s notions of propriety failed to match his own, because, waiting no longer, she said in a voice that likely carried across the courtyard, “Gram says to stir yourself, Wat. She wants to talk with our guest.”
Wat caught her gaze and said mildly, “Prithee, do not announce our grandame’s wishes to the yard, Bella. Make your curtsy to her ladyship, instead.” Then, to Molly, he said, “I pray you will forgive Annabella’s enthusiasm, my lady, and allow me to present her to you.”
“I would like that,” Molly said, smiling at Bella, who promptly obeyed him by making an awkward curtsy without taking her eyes off Molly.
“No one told me you were noble, your ladyship,” Bella said, rising as hastily as she had bobbed. “I thought—”
“Never mind what you thought, Bella,” Wat interjected. “This is the lady Margaret Cockburn of Henderland, which lies some miles northwest of here.”
“Did you come all by yourself, Lady Margaret?” Bella asked.
Seeing pitfalls at every new turn but grateful that his hitherto sorrowful little sister was taking interest in their guest, Wat said, “Unless you want Gram to hand us our heads in our laps, lassie, we should go in. You may ask your questions later.”
Molly gave him a look then that startled him, because it was brimful of laughter, even mockery. To Bella, she said with a smile, “Prithee, call me Molly, Lady Bella. And, I beg that you will try to keep my visit here a private matter. My own family does not know where I am, and I hope to keep it that way for a time.”
“Ooh, I love secrets, and even Wat will agree that I am good at keeping them,” Bella said, returning Molly’s smile with a winsome one of her own. “But Gram awaits us. And my lady mother and my sister, Janet, want to meet you, too.”
“More names for me to remember,” Molly said. “But why do you call your grandame ‘Gram’ instead of ‘Grandame’ or ‘Nan’ as many people hereabouts do?”
Wat said, “That is my fault. When I was small, everyone tried to get me to say ‘Grandame,’ but it came out ‘Gram,’ instead and stayed that way. I should tell you, though—and you are not to repeat this, Bella—Gram wanted me to introduce you to everyone as just Molly. Nevertheless, I’ll present you properly to my mother and Janet. The servants will call you Mistress Molly, I expect, since Emma does.”
“I understand, sir. I would not want to deceive any of them a-purpose.”
“Then we are in agreement on that, at least,” Wat said with a nod.
Molly followed Lady Annabella up the stairs with his lordship right behind them. So far, so good, she told herself. However, the easiness she had felt with him while walking in the courtyard faded again to uncertainty.
If Lady Meg was her godmother, why had the woman never taken interest in her? It had been a surprise to learn that she had a godmother, although not that her father had failed to mention such a woman’s existence. Piers Cockburn held the institution of the Kirk in as low esteem as he held the current King of Scots.
Entering the hall with Wat and Bella, Molly face
d the dais and three ladies seated there. The frail-looking creature nearest the center of the long high table she deduced to be Wat’s mother, as the place next to him would rightfully be hers.
The older woman at Lady Scott’s left sat stiffly upright. She was plain looking, quietly dignified, and the first of the three to note their entrance. However, although Molly knew that the woman must be Lady Meg, she did not look fierce. Shifting her glance from Molly, she looked speculatively at her grandson.
Next to her sat a dark-haired girl of perhaps sixteen, who, Molly decided, must be the lady Janet, his lordship’s other sister.
“You were down gey early, sir,” Lady Meg said evenly.
“Aye, Gram, I awoke sooner than expected and learned from Emma that her ladyship had risen and would soon come downstairs, so I hied myself down here. I have been showing her the courtyard by daylight. Good morrow to you, Mam, and you, Janet-lass,” he added with a nod to each. “If you will permit me, Mam,” he said to his mother, “I would present the lady Margaret Cockburn of Henderland.”
Molly was still watching Lady Meg, whose lips tightened at hearing the introduction but relaxed seconds later. Deciding with relief that Lady Meg would not take his lordship to task, Molly hastily made her curtsy to Lady Scott.
“Welcome to Scott’s Hall, Lady Margaret,” her ladyship said in soft tones. “I knew your mother, but I have not set eyes on you since you were newborn. I fear you have come at a sad time for us, but doubtless Walter has told you as much.”
“He has, my lady, and I, too, mourn your loss,” Molly said as she rose. “But prithee, call me Molly. Our priest is the only one who has ever called me Margaret.”
“Then we will call you Molly. This is my good-mother, whose name is also Margaret,” Lady Scott added with a slight gesture. “But everyone here calls her Lady Meg. Sitting next to her is our Janet.”
Janet got hastily to her feet and said with a warm smile, “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady. I see that you’ve already met Bella.”
Molly replied in kind and returned her attention to Lady Meg, who had kept silent since her opening remark. “Forgive me, madam,” Molly said, “but his lordship has just told me that you are my godmother. I was unaware that I had one, but I am honored to learn of our connection.”
“I am glad to meet you at last, too, my dear. I did meet you soon after your birth, but I fear I have been remiss in my duties to you since then. Your father… But we can talk later, for I do hope we’ll have time now to get to know each other,” she added with a pointed look at Wat.
He met the look easily, saying, “Her ladyship is welcome to stay as long as need be, Gram.” With a glance including his sisters, he added, “Molly would keep her whereabouts private for a time. Prithee, be sure our people understand that.”
Molly felt heat flood her cheeks and was wondering what they all must think of her when Lady Scott said in a fluttering way, “Then whatever did you mean by saying that she can stay ‘as long as need be,’ Walter?”
Chapter 4
Impressed by the easy grace with which Molly had greeted his mother and grandmother, Wat had continued to watch her. Having noted her nervousness when he’d mentioned Lady Meg’s wishing to talk with her, he had expected to see that nervousness return when the two faced each other.
Instead, Molly behaved with the confidence he’d expect from Janet, rather than the awkwardness one might expect from a lass the Cockburn men had raised.
Lady Meg cleared her throat and glanced pointedly at Lady Scott.
Belatedly realizing that he had not answered his mother’s question about how long Molly might stay, Wat said, “I meant that Molly will remain until I decide otherwise, Mam. I have business at Melrose Abbey, and I want to seek counsel with Father Abbot whilst I’m there. So, she will stay at least until my return.”
His mother said, “You have much to do here, too, Walter. Mayhap your father somehow confided his every intention to you, and you will see to things as he would have desired. At present, though, one feels as if all here is in turmoil.”
“I’ll do my best to go on as he did, Mam, I promise. Moreover, if you need aught from me, you ken fine that you need only ask.”
Aware that his grandmother was eyeing him quizzically, he returned his attention to her. “You and I might talk more about my visit to the abbey before I leave, Gram, if you like.”
With an understanding nod, she said, “I, too, have faith in you, love. Prithee, extend my regards to John Fogo when you see him. He has been Abbot of Melrose for only three years, but he is a good man who gives sage advice. I believe he has knowledge of most laws that pertain hereabouts, as well.”
“I mean to ask him about some of those laws,” Wat said. Then, turning to Janet, he said, “I would ask you to be a friend to Molly whilst I’m away, Jannie.”
Her warm smile dawned. “I will, Wat. I shall enjoy that.”
“Prithee, do not forget that we expect your great-aunt Rosalie to arrive from Westruther within the week, sir,” Lady Meg reminded him.
“She is bound to bring an entourage, Meg,” Lady Scott said fretfully. “Ought we to be entertaining a host of visitors whilst we are in deepest mourning?”
“Lavinia, Rosalie is family,” Lady Meg said firmly.
“But she has lived most of her life in England with those dreadful Percies, Meg. When they are not raiding our lands, they stir trouble elsewhere. We scarcely know Rosalie, after all. I have met her only once, years ago. Faith, but she is more Percy now than Murray, I should think, and we are in deep mourning.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and seeing them, Wat felt a pang of sympathy. He realized, too, though, that his mother often chose to forget that Lady Meg had connections to the Percies through her own mother, as did Meg’s descendants, too, of course, including himself.
Molly looked as if she wished herself elsewhere. He nearly suggested that she take a seat and be more comfortable but decided he’d be wiser to keep silent.
Lady Meg said more patiently, “No matter how long Rosalie lived in England, Lavinia, she is still my sister. ’Tis true that she married our cousin, Richard Percy, but she is a widow now just as you and I are. Having stayed at Elishaw with my brother Simon for a month, she is now with my sister Amalie and Westruther. Moreover, we arranged her visit to us long ago. As for an entourage, unless Simon misled me, which I doubt, she will have an attire woman, a courier or some such thing, and an outrider or two.”
“But all of them are English, are they not? With so many raids of late—”
“I believe Simon provided her outriders,” Lady Meg interjected gently.
“Even so, the other two, her maid and this equerry or whatever he calls—”
“—will both behave themselves whilst they are here if they are wise,” Meg interjected in a less gentle tone.
Wat had nearly smiled at the gentleness, amazed as he always was by his grandmother’s capacity for patience with his mother.
The two women could hardly have been more different. His grandmother, twenty years the senior, was full of life and energy. His mother displayed little of either trait, although despite the indisputable local inclination for violence, she enjoyed a life of ease. He knew that she grieved because she had loved his father and depended on him for nearly every action she took and decision she made.
Knowing, too, that his own capacity for patience would never match his grandmother’s, and sensing that Molly’s tension had eased, Wat held his peace.
When silence fell at last, Janet said, “Molly, would you like to come to the kitchen with me? I promised to help pare apples for pies this morning. If you dislike such chores, of course—”
“I’d be grateful for anything that makes me feel useful,” Molly said lightly.
Realizing that his lordship might think she sounded ungrateful, Molly turned hastily to him and added, “That is, unless you want to talk more, sir.”
He smiled and she noted again how infectious his smile was.
“Nay, my lady,” he said. “My grandame will have much advice to offer me before I depart for Melrose. I also have much on my mind, so I warrant you will enjoy Janet’s company today more than you would mine.”
Firmly stifling a sudden impulse to tell him that she strongly doubted that, she said, “Do you leave at once, then?”
“I should,” he admitted. “I had planned to leave this morning to inform the abbot of my father’s death and assure him that their agreements still hold. I want to avoid his ever wondering if I might try to alter any of them. Also, I must visit the Douglas in Hawick, if he is still there. He will already have heard of Father’s death, for he has ears to the ground throughout the Borders. But he will expect to hear from me nevertheless. So, the sooner I get away, the sooner I can return.”
“Then you might be away for a long while.”
He shook his head. “I will return before you have had time to miss me. ’Tis but twenty miles to the abbey, and we ride fast. Also, as my lady mother reminded me, I have much to do here, and whilst your own situation remains unresolved, I must not tarry.
“Don’t fret, lass,” he added when she failed to suppress a gasp. “My men are skilled at protecting the Hall and our lands, so you will be safe. If you have concerns, you need only express them to Jock’s Wee Tammy or to Gram.”
“Or you might simply tell Emma,” Lady Meg said, abandoning a murmured conversation with Lady Scott and thereby proving to Molly that age had not impaired the older woman’s hearing. “Sithee,” Meg added, “Emma is my Sym’s daughter, and Sym is as skilled at keeping us safe as Tammy is. I think Walter will agree that Emma is also well suited to attend you whilst you stay with us.”
“Thank you, my lady,” Molly said, glancing at his lordship.
He nodded. “Emma is an excellent choice,” he said. “She never gossips and has served us since she was old enough to insist that she wanted to work here.”