by Amanda Scott
The fourth rider was the Abbot of Melrose.
Handing his reins to Geordie, Wat said, “Look after my horse. Then take Kip and Aggie’s Pete with you, and see what more you can learn from folks in the dale. If any searcher has gone missing, I want to know about it.”
“Aye, laird, I’ll see to that,” Geordie assured him.
Westruther greeted the abbot, whom he clearly knew as well as if not better than Wat did. Then he said to Wat, “You won’t need me whilst you talk with Father Abbot. If you don’t mind, I’ll go with Geordie and his lads. I’d like that fine.”
“Aye, sure, sir,” Wat said, smiling. “Prithee, convey my compliments or regrets wherever you believe they will do the most good.”
Turning next to his visitors, he welcomed the abbot as that gentleman dismounted. The other priest was considerably more rotund than his reverence. Wat noted that the man remained mounted and eyed both of them warily.
“Come now, Jonathan,” Father Abbot said briskly. “That horse won’t bite you. Moreover, you will be much warmer and more comfortable in the Hall. I expect his lordship can even provide us with hot ale.”
“Also food at midday if you are hungry,” Wat said, eyeing the priest and wondering if it was the first time he had sat a horse.
A daft notion, Wat decided. Anyone living in the Borders, even those born elsewhere, soon learned to ride and ride well. But the fat little priest did not look like a horseman.
At last, with more grace than one might have expected, the man dismounted and handed his reins to a waiting groom.
“My lord, this is Father Jonathan Graham,” the abbot said lightly. “He serves mass in the wee chapel on St. Mary’s Loch.”
“Henderland’s priest, then,” Wat said, regarding the man more closely.
“I am, and I did nowt that I shouldna ha’ done.” The priest spoke brusquely but avoided Wat’s gaze.
“That is no subject to discuss in a courtyard,” Wat said. “We’ll go inside where we can talk privily.”
Leading the way to the inner chamber, he indicated cushioned back-stools near the wide table he had used to meet with his tenants the day before.
As he waited for the abbot and the priest to sit, Wat took his place behind the table. “What’s this all about, Father Abbot?” he asked then.
“I brought Father Jonathan here so he could tell you what he told me. As you heard outside, he believes he acted properly. He insists he was merely following Piers Cockburn’s orders with regard to his daughter.”
“Does he?” Wat said with a look that ought to have withered the priest.
“He does,” the abbot said. “I’ve reminded him that Lady Meg is her godmother and has therefore taken strong interest in Molly’s… uh… disappearance.”
Wat nearly raised his eyebrows but suppressed the urge. Clearly, the abbot implied that he had kept Molly’s presence at Scott’s Hall from the priest.
“I will talk wi’ Lady Meg,” Father Jonathan said curtly. “She must ken fine that even if she thought she enjoyed such a connection, she abandoned it long ago.”
Molly and Janet were in the ladies’ solar, mending linens, when Bella burst through the doorway. “Janet! You’ll never guess who has come. It’s the Abbot of Melrose. He has brought another priest, too, someone said. I saw Wat taking them inside from the yard, myself. So when Westruther rode off with Geordie, I hied me up here, because I knew you’d both want to know straightaway.”
“The Abbot of Melrose?” Molly said, feeling such a shiver up her spine that she wrapped her arms around herself. “What does the other priest look like?”
Bella shrugged. “ ‘A round little toad,’ Geordie said. He is rather plump.”
Molly shut her eyes, easily recognizing the description. The abbot had brought Father Jonathan to her refuge. She shot Janet a panicky look.
“Thank you, Bella,” Janet said with a slight frown, “But Mam was looking for you earlier. You know you are not to go out to the yard or stables without first speaking to her. You must go to her, but tidy yourself first.”
Making a face, Bella said, “I’ll go. But do not think I am so dim as not to know you want to talk secrets with Molly.”
“If I do, it is my business, dearling, not yours. Go along now.”
When the younger girl had shut the door after herself, Janet said with visible concern, “What is it, Molly? Your face has turned nearly white.”
“It must be Father Jonathan, the priest from Henderland—my father’s priest. I fear that he has come to take me home.”
“Wat won’t let them take you. He promised you could stay.”
“He may have no choice,” Molly said. “How I wish we could hear what they are saying, but I don’t suppose you have a laird’s squint that we might use. My father has several at Henderland.”
Janet’s eyes danced. “If they are talking privily, Wat will have taken them to the inner chamber. Whilst there is a squint there, it overlooks the great hall and remains covered from the inside when not in use. One cannot see or hear aught in the inner chamber from the hall, only the other way round.”
Grimacing, Molly said. “I doubt I could do it, anyway.”
“I suppose we could creep down the service stair and mayhap hear some of what they say,” Janet said. “However, if Wat has sent for food or hot ale, we’d likely run into a servant. I need not tell you that if anyone caught us, Wat would be furious. Still, if it is important for you to hear them, I’ll go with you.”
“I cannot ask that of you,” Molly said, trying to conceal her dread of what Wat might do to his sister, or her, if they angered him so. “But, I must learn if they will join us for the midday meal. Father Jonathan would recognize me in a trice.”
“He and the abbot have just arrived,” Janet said. “It would be rude of Wat not to invite them to stay, so mayhap you should keep out of sight until they leave. I’ll have Emma bring your food up here or to your chamber if you like.”
“My chamber would be best,” Molly said. “I’ll go there now and stay until they have gone.” So saying, she excused herself, picked up her skirts, and hurried down the main stairway to her chamber.
Entering, she paused to stare wistfully at the service-stair door in the far corner of the room.
After a glance at the abbot and a more intense look at the priest, Wat said, “Rather than allow you to affront my grandame, Father Jonathan, I will speak for her. I should warn you, though. We heard that the lady Molly steadfastly refused to marry Ringan Tuedy but that her father and brother forced the marriage. Is that so?”
“Cockburn did what he deemed best for his daughter,” the priest said. “Bless me, but I did only what he told me to do. I ken fine that Scottish law and the Scottish Kirk say a woman may refuse to marry any man. But the Scottish Kirk and the Roman Kirk both hold that a lass must obey her father. Moreover, a priest who desires to retain his living canna afford to defy his patron.”
“A priest worthy of the name should protect the weak above all,” Wat said coldly. “I also heard that the lady’s brother William tied her hands behind her and gagged her so she could not speak. Then he grabbed her hair to force her to nod at certain parts of the ceremony. Also true?”
“I expect so,” the priest said, glancing at the abbot. “She didna speak.”
Wat also looked at the abbot, who said, “I explained to Father Jonathan that he must not perform any marriage of an unwilling bride. However, he is also aware that her ladyship can declare her marriage illegal only if she can honestly claim that she remains a maiden. Did you manage to relay that information to her, my lord?”
“I did,” Wat said shortly.
“Then that be that,” Father Jonathan said on a note of relief. “I ken Ringan Tuedy well, my lord. With a man of that stamp as her husband, that wee, slender lass could no ha’ avoided consummation had she tried. You must agree with that.”
“Then you admit that you assisted in her rape,” Wat snapped, giving him an icy, si
lent stare. He feared to say more, lest he lose his temper.
“I did nae such thing,” Father Jonathan declared indignantly. “Ye canna even persuade me that the lass was reluctant. How would ye know anyway? I tell ye, she went meekly wi’ Tuedy after the ceremony. And he took her straight upstairs. She didna come doon to supper afterward, but that isna unusual, I think.”
“Not if the lady has been brutalized,” Wat retorted.
The abbot shot him a look that suggested he might be more tactful. Then he said mildly, “Did you ask Lady Molly if she is still a maiden, my son?”
Father Jonathan snorted derisively, then paused glowering at Wat. “D’ye ken where she is, then?” he demanded. “Mercy, if ye do and ye be keeping her from her rightful husband, ye’re nowt save a wicked wife stealer!”
“The significant word would be ‘rightful,’ ” Wat said, wanting to smack him.
To avoid making that desire clear to the man, he returned his gaze to the abbot. “I would not ask such a question of her ladyship under any circumstance,” he said. “But I did tell my grandame all that you said to me.”
“A good notion, that was,” the abbot said, nodding.
“Aye, and if she finds opportunity to talk to Molly, she will ask her. Come to that, she may have done so already. She might not repeat what she knows to me.”
Hearing noise beyond the service stair, he put a finger to his lips. “Our ale is arriving, I think,” he said. “We’ll continue this discussion after the lad has gone.”
The abbot engaged Father Jonathan in desultory conversation, but Edwin did not arrive for another minute or two. Wat wondered at the delay but doubted that either of the other two noticed. When the lad did enter, he bore a tray with a jug and three pewter mugs. Filling the mugs, he left the jug and vanished back downstairs.
“Now,” Wat said to Father Jonathan, “you asked me, I believe, if I know where her ladyship is. I do not.”
Chapter 9
Molly’s whole body quaked, and she dared not move lest she make another sound. She had nearly let Edwin catch her listening to the men in the inner chamber.
She had been unable to resist the impulse to listen, so it was a relief that Edwin had gone downstairs again. He might as easily have come up, and she had dared not make noise by trying to get away.
Years earlier, her grandame Marjory had warned her that people who listened at corners heard only bad things about themselves. She ought to have added, Molly thought now, that one rarely learned all that one wanted to know.
She had rounded the turning above the chamber to hear a man ask if Wat had discovered whether she was still a maiden. Her breath caught in her throat then in an audible gasp. And when Father Jonathan asked if Wat knew where she was, she had grabbed wildly for the wall, fearing her knees would give way.
Hearing the fat priest declare that if Wat did know and kept her from her husband, he could be guilty of wife stealing had appalled her.
She’d heard Edwin coming upstairs then and had whisked up and around the curve but dared go no farther lest he hear her and investigate.
Now she felt torn between wanting to know more and fear that Wat or someone else would catch her. Such an ill turn to serve a kind host, but—
A sound above her on the stairs decided the issue. Gathering her skirts and dignity, she continued upward, meeting Lady Meg’s Brigid on the next landing.
“Faith, this be good fortune,” Brigid said. “Her ladyship sent me t’ find ye, m’lady. I looked first in the solar, but Lady Janet said ye’d gone t’ your room.”
“Does Lady Meg want to see me?” Molly asked quietly, wondering how far Brigid’s rather shrill voice might carry.
“She does, m’lady, in her sitting room, if ye please. I’ll take ye to her.”
“I ken fine where it is, thank you,” Molly said. Dismissing her, she hastened to Lady Meg’s door.
Rapping and hearing the command to enter, she did so.
“I am glad to see you, my dear,” Meg said as Molly shut the door. “Brigid said Father Abbot has come with another priest in tow. Do you ken aught of this?”
Licking suddenly dry lips, Molly said, “Aye, m’lady, Bella told Janet and me that two priests had come.”
“Did you see them, or they you?”
“Nay, m’lady,” Molly said and felt heat flood her cheeks, although the statement was true. She had not seen them.
Gently, Meg said, “Walter told me of your troubles, my dear. I suspect that the second priest may be your father’s chaplain.”
Molly nodded before she realized that, by doing so, she might give herself away. Hastily, she said, “It is Father Jonathan. Bella said his lordship’s Geordie called him a round little toad. The description is so apt that I am sure it must be he.”
“I see.” Lady Meg said with a thoughtful frown. Then, directing a narrower look at Molly, she said, “Wat’s description of your escape lacked detail, I fear. Will you think me too intrusive if I ask you to tell me more about it?”
“I am too grateful to refuse you,” Molly said. “I don’t know how much his lordship already told you, though.”
“He told me all I need to know about that dreadful ceremony,” Meg said rather tartly. “Start with what followed it, and pretend that I ken naught of it.”
Molly nodded, trying to gather her wits and decide what to say.
At last, drawing breath, she explained about the so-called wedding feast and Tuedy’s concern about her bindings. “He put his face close to mine and said he’d make me regret it if I caused any trouble. I believed him. Then he ordered me to show him to my bedchamber, and one of his men followed us. When we reached my room, Tuedy told the man to wait on the landing, and then he… he…”
Shutting her eyes to the vision that appeared then, she fell silent.
“Prithee, sit down, Molly,” Lady Meg said gently, gesturing toward a stool near her chair. “I know this is hard, but ’tis gey important. What happened next?”
“He… he shut the door and bolted it,” Molly said, shuddering. “He is so big, and my chamber is small. He seemed to take up all the air in it. But when I backed away, just to breathe, he grabbed me and yanked off my veil.”
“With his man still standing outside?” Lady Meg asked, visibly shocked.
“Aye,” Molly said. “Then Tuedy grabbed my hair the same way Will had. He snatched out the pins and jerked off the netting. It hurt, so I tried to pull away, but he held me easily. He tore my bodice, trying to unlace it. When I protested, he told me to take off all my clothes and threatened to strip me himself if I refused.”
“And then?” Meg said, her tone firm again, her expression insistent.
“I… I obeyed him. I took off all but my shift.” Tears flooded Molly’s eyes as she relived the terror and humiliation that Tuedy had made her feel.
Meg’s expression softened, but she said, “Go on, dearling. I must know.”
Molly murmured, “He took my clothes and my slippers and cast them aside. Then he… he…”
Tears streamed down her cheeks. Stifling a sob, avoiding Meg’s eyes, she said, “He touched me, squeezed my breasts hard, and d-did other things. When I cried out at him to stop, he slapped me. I don’t recall much else after that.”
“Try,” Meg said softly. “This is most important.”
“I’m sorry.” Molly met her gaze again. “ ’Tis as if my mind went elsewhere until he tried to rip off my shift. I-I must have wrapped my arms round myself and crumpled to the floor. I remember him grabbing an arm and forcing me to stand. Then he smacked my face again, harder, and threw me onto the bed.”
Meg, visibly tensing, made only a slight gesture to indicate she needed more.
Molly sighed. The rest was humiliating but somehow easier to say.
“He walked toward me,” she said. “Then he stopped and turned as if he’d heard something outside the door. I think he had forgotten his man was there.”
“Then…?”
“Then h
e opened the door, saying I would need more usage before I’d be satisfactory and that my inexperience had put him out of temper. He was going downstairs to enjoy our wedding feast but would leave me to come to my senses. Also, he said he would bring his riding whip when he returned. Then, if I had not come to my senses, he said, he’d teach me to obey him. After that, he picked up my clothes and left, ordering his man to keep guard and see that I stayed put.”
“But you escaped.”
“Aye,” Molly said. She told Meg about the service door behind its screen. “I’d never had a personal servant,” Molly explained. “So I set the screen there years ago to block the draft from the stairway.”
“And that’s all?”
“Aye, for as soon as Tuedy left, I fled downstairs to the kitchen and out into the forest. Then, I just kept going… gey heedlessly, I fear.”
“I think you were prodigiously brave, my dearling,” Meg said.
“I’ll have to go back to Tuedy now and face them all, won’t I?”
“Perhaps, but you will not be alone if you do,” Meg said firmly.
“His lordship said that the only way I could declare my marriage illegal is if I am still a maiden. But if I am married, I can no longer be a maiden, can I?”
Lady Meg was silent for a moment or two, and Molly discerned a fleeting look of anger before she controlled it and said quietly, “I’m going to think about that, my dear. I ought to have realized how difficult this would be for you. But have faith in Walter, if you can. I can promise that you will have all the help we can give you. Meantime, I want you to stay right here for now. I am going down to take my midday meal with our guests. I will have Emma bring you yours here.”
Molly said, “Janet already told her to serve it in my chamber, I think.”
“Then I shall tell her otherwise,” Meg said. “No one will disturb you here.”
Molly believed her. She felt a little as if Meg were abandoning her, even so.
As Meg stood to leave, she said, “I may be some time, my dear, so I shall ask Emma to stay with you. That way, if sitting here grows tiresome, she can fetch Janet to you after we eat, and send Bella to bear her mother company.”