“I-I beg your pardon, sire?” Faris whispered.
“Father has demanded I not kill him, not best him—unless provoked, of course,” he said. “I will be in receipt of the parchments giving my father claim to his lands, and then I will tell him of the pleasure of the sweet confections of your mouth.” The broad expanse of his shoulders shrugged in a boyish gesture as he added, “It will then be up to him—whether he slinks home with his tail between his legs or whether he chooses to have his face further bloodied—or his very guts run through, for that matter.”
“Sire, no!” Faris gasped. “You must not provoke him simply for the sake of—”
“He is a dog, Faris!” Lochlan growled, slamming a powerful fist to the top of the desk before him. “He is the ruination of innocence, the torturer of good labor, the very tormentor of morality.”
“But, sire, surely,” Faris began. “Surely you may leave such dangerous deeds to others.” Panic had begun to rise in her—fear for Lochlan Rockrimmon’s safety. Oh, it was certain Lochlan could ever best Kade Tremeshton, just as it was certain the Highwayman of Tanglewood could do so. Yet Kade was cowardly. Had he not striven to ambush the Highwayman? No doubt he would sink no less to see the great Lochlan Rockrimmon beaten.
“You speak of the Highwayman of Tanglewood,” Lochlan growled. “Yet twice he has bested Kade Tremeshton, and what good has it done? Tremeshton yet continues to spread misery and ruination. It is time someone who does not hide behind a mask bested him—entirely. Better to savor the fruit of provocation than to remain standing idle.”
“Sire, surely—” Faris began.
“I only tell you of this so that you may be wary, Faris,” Lochlan interrupted. “Kade Tremeshton is a snake, and he has not forgotten his desire for you. If I best him, he may leave you be at last; he may discontinue his ill treatment of his remaining tenants. Likewise, he may not.”
“Sire, only allow time,” Faris said. “The Highwayman of Tanglewood will best Lord Tremeshton once and for all. In time he will. I only beg you to allow—”
“To allow a true man to deal with Tremeshton. Is that what you mean to tell me, Faris?” Lochlan asked. “You think me weak—think my debating and political position are worthless in this battle against tyranny.”
“Of—of course not, sire,” Faris stammered. “I only mean to keep you from harm’s way and—”
“And allow others to withstand abuse instead,” he finished.
“No, sire. You misunderstand me. I…” Faris began. She was near awash with panic! Perspiration warmed her temples. Fear for Lochlan Rockrimmon’s well-being had gripped her entirely.
“Enough,” Lochlan said. “I ride to retrieve the parchments for my father. You will attend Lady Stringham and her daughter, and you will be wary, lest Kade Tremeshton has not purged you from his wanton mind. That is all the instruction I have for you.”
“Y-yes, sire,” Faris stammered.
“And then why don’t you find an hour or two for some extra rest? You look as if you’ve been burning the candle at both ends,” he grumbled
“Y-y-yes, sire,” she said, anxious to escape.
“Thank you, Faris,” he said, signaling her dismissal.
“Thank you, sire,” she mumbled as she turned, fleeing from his presence.
He knew! She had no doubt he knew! He knew she’d overslept, and no doubt the fact caused his suspicions about why. For a moment, she panicked—did he know of her dreams as well? Could he guess at them too? And what of his plans to provoke Lord Tremeshton? Had he run mad? What would possess him to endeavor to such a thing? Oh, certainly he loathed Kade Tremeshton—yet more than any other of his acquaintance did?
Her heart was pounding—frantic with panic. Oh, how she wished she could speak to the Highwayman, warn him of Lochlan’s intention, that the Highwayman of Tanglewood may ride to his defense.
Faris put a hand to her temple. Send her beloved Highwayman to fight Kade Tremeshton in Lochlan Rockrimmon’s place? Had she now run mad? To put her beloved in danger in order that her master might be protected—it was the thinking of a mad woman. Yet Faris knew well the Highwayman of Tanglewood could easily best Kade Tremeshton. She did not know so well that Lochlan Rockrimmon could. She thought of the deep cut on Lochlan’s forehead—the one she had only just seen upon talking with him. The Highwayman had triumphed unscathed each time he had bested Kade Tremeshton. Lochlan Rockrimmon had not been so fortunate, and she was fearful for his safety. How she wished she could advise her beloved Highwayman of Lochlan’s intent. She shook her head—hopeless.
And yet—Bainbridge! What if she were to tell Bainbridge Graybeau of Lochlan’s plan to provoke Lord Tremeshton? If Bainbridge were, indeed, the Highwayman of Tanglewood, then her fears might be put to rest where Lochlan’s well-being was concerned. If Bainbridge was not the Highwayman, however…yet was not it better to try?
She would go to him! At once! She would go to the stables and seek Bainbridge Graybeau’s help. Highwayman or not, she knew he held a great regard and caring for his young master.
As Faris hurried to the stables, her mind whirled with thoughts and considerations. Was Bainbridge Graybeau the Highwayman of Tanglewood? How desperately she wished the Highwayman were free to reveal his identity to her, to love her completely and thoroughly. Oh, how she wished she could accompany him during his tasks, run away with him, never to return to Loch Loland Castle. She wondered in that moment if he would take her to wife if he were free. Did he love her enough to spend his life with her? She would gladly marry him, live with him anywhere they chose. The thought of having his children made her smile, but her smile faded when in the next instance she thought of Lady Stringham’s daughter bearing Lochlan Rockrimmon’s children. It angered her, and she knew not why. She had not even met the young woman. Perhaps she would be a proper and good choice for Lochlan. Still, it bothered her—suddenly ate at her mind like an illness.
Certainly she just felt protective of her young master, she mused. The way he did of her—after all, he had warned her of his intent to provoke Kade Tremeshton, championed her once before in the loathsome man’s presence. She thought of the kiss Lochlan had forced upon her, of his licking his fork after having fed her a piece of his pie. Would Lady Stringham’s daughter appreciate his chivalry, his compassion to a lowly chambermaid? From what she had thus far heard of the girl, she thought not.
Reaching the stables, Faris searched for Bainbridge. Yet none knew where to find him. He was not with Jovan, for Jovan was stabled. None of the stablemen knew where to find him, and panic gripped Faris once more. Lochlan Rockrimmon meant to provoke Kade Tremeshton, and it seemed there would be no Highwayman of Tanglewood, nor able stablemaster, to aid him.
Faris returned to the house, anxiety holding her in its terrible grip. Silently she prayed for aid—divine intervention that Lochlan Rockrimmon would not be harmed—that he would change his mind and choose not to provoke Kade Tremeshton.
“Quickly, Faris! They have arrived already,” Old Joseph said, catching hold of Faris’s arm as she entered through the kitchen servants’ door.
“Lady Stringham? Already?” Faris asked, smoothing her apron and straightening her cap. She hoped her anxiety was not too apparent in her countenance.
“In rather a hurry to catch her daughter a good husband, I suspect,” Old Joseph whispered. “Quickly! We must be present in the main hall.”
“Have…have you seen Mr. Graybeau, Joseph?” Faris asked.
“Bainbridge?” Old Joseph asked. “Busy tending to Lady and Miss Stringham’s coach, I suspect. He is not expected to appear as are we, Faris.”
“Of—of course,” Faris stammered.
Awash with anxiety and fear, frustration, and trepidation, Faris endeavored to appear composed. Standing shoulder to shoulder with the other servants of Loch Loland Castle, she waited—waited as Lady May Stringham and her daughter were ushered into the main hall—waited as Lochlan Rockrimmon, heir to the title and heir to Loch Loland Castle
itself, rode out to provoke Lord Kade Tremeshton.
In the Broad Light of Day
“Let us be at our best,” Lady Rockrimmon said, as she and Lillias entered from an adjoining room. “No matter who has descended upon Loch Loland—let us be at our best.”
“Yes, milady,” Faris said in unison with the others serving at Loch Loland Castle.
“I do not envy you, Faris,” Lillias whispered aside to Faris. “I do not know if I could endure assisting Tannis Stringham at anything at all—even for one moment!”
Faris bit her lip to stifle a smile, studying Lady Stringham and her daughter as they entered. Tannis Stringham was indeed a rare beauty. It was impossible to deny the fact of it. Her hair was as black as ebony, her eyes as blue as the sky. Her form of figure was exquisite and her height perfect for a man of Lochlan’s stature—for she was taller than most young women, and it gave her a look of exceptional grace.
“May,” Lady Rockrimmon greeted, embracing Lady Stringham. Faris thought her greeting somewhat less than enthusiastic. “How kind of you to come.” The ladies exchanged cheek kisses—as did the daughters. “And, Tannis—” Lady Rockrimmon said, turning her attention to the daughter. “My, how lovely!”
“Yes, milady,” Tannis said. “And may I congratulate Lillias on her betrothal to the dashing Lord Kendrick.”
“Thank you, Tannis,” Lillias said, forcing a smile. “We are quiet impatient to be wed.”
“So says any and all tittle-tattle,” Tannis mumbled.
Faris frowned. What a tart! To make such an insinuative remark was intolerable. Yet Lillias bore it well, feigning ignorance.
“These are they who keep Loch Loland Castle in such good repair,” Lady Rockrimmon said, motioning to the servants standing behind her.
Lady Stringham and Tannis nodded a greeting, and all the male servants bowed, while the female servants curtsied in unison.
“We would be nothing without our Loch Loland friends,” Lady Rockrimmon answered.
Faris did not miss the puzzled, disapproving expression on the faces of both Lady Stringham and her daughter. The arrogance of nobility was thick in them, and they did not take to such compliments of servants—this was obvious.
“Oh! And this is Faris,” Lady Rockrimmon said, gesturing to Faris.
Faris stepped forward, curtsied to Lady Stringham, and said, “Milady.” She then nodded to Tannis and said, “Miss Stringham.”
“I am allowing Faris to care for you during your visit to Loch Loland Castle,” Lady Rockrimmon explained. “She is Lochlan’s own chambermaid, and though he has been very begrudging in agreeing to give her up for a time, he has—for your sakes,” Lillias said.
Faris felt the heat rise to her cheeks. Touché! With one simple remark, Lillias had given Tannis a bit of a comeuppance. Faris noticed the instantaneous fading of smiles from both Lady Stringham’s and Tannis’s faces.
“Dear me, Maranda,” Lady Stringham began, “do you really think it wise to have such a pretty little servant so constantly under Lochlan’s nose? Do you not worry she may give him cause to—to falter?”
Faris looked away, irritated and embarrassed by the woman’s implication.
“Oh, no, not at all,” Lady Rockrimmon said. “He may spirit her away to wife—but he would never threaten her virtue.”
Faris’s own eyes widened in astonishment, and she looked up when she heard Lady Stringham gasp. The woman stood pale, her hand on her bosom. She was as stunned by Lady Rockrimmon’s remark as Faris was. More so, even.
“Oh, for pity’s sake, May,” Lady Rockrimmon laughed. “Have you indeed lost your sense of jest?”
Lady Stringham forced a smile and said, “Oh—oh, of course not, Maranda. You ever manage to astonish me with your witty manner.”
Faris did not miss the glower heaped upon her by Tannis Stringham. She had not made any new allies at this meeting. She wondered at Lady Rockrimmon’s teasing. She was, however, the parent most like her son, and Faris could well imagine Lochlan making just such an astonishing remark simply to provoke reaction. She wondered then—had he reached his destination? Did he now remark to provoke Kade Tremeshton? She shivered, momentarily overwhelmed with worry.
“You may all go about your—your goings-about,” Lady Rockrimmon said to the assembled servants.
Faris forced a smile as Lillias winked at her. If only Lillias knew her brother’s intention, she would not be so free from care as she appeared, perhaps.
“My father is away on business, as is Lochlan at the moment,” Faris heard Lillias say as she took her leave. “I suppose you will have to suffer through an afternoon of ladies’ conversation, Tannis.”
“I look forward to it, Lillias dear,” Tannis said.
Faris knew she would need to tend to Lady and Tannis Stringham’s things immediately—air out their dresses and petticoats, tend to their vanity. Yet she must attempt to seek out Bainbridge once more. She must attempt to send assistance to Lochlan.
Hurrying through the kitchen, she left the house by way of the servants’ entrance door. Perhaps Bainbridge had returned to the stables by now. Perhaps she would find him at last! Her heart pounded with anxiety and worry for her young master’s welfare as she started toward the stables.
“I see you’ve met Lochlan’s intended.”
Faris gasped as none other than Lord Kade Tremeshton himself stepped from behind a large oak growing near the kitchen door.
Panic mingled with relief in Faris—panic at the sudden appearance of the abhorrent man, relief at realizing his presence at Loch Loland meant he was in no way besting Lochlan.
“E-excuse me, Lord Tremeshton,” Faris said. She must escape—not only for her own sake but for Lochlan’s. She must find Bainbridge. Making to move past him, she said, “I’ve—I’ve duties to attend to.”
“Duties, is it?” Kade asked, taking hold of her arm. “You had unfinished duties when you quit Tremeshton, did you not?”
“You will release me at once,” Faris told him.
She was frightened, for he was indeed a strong man, and there was no Lochlan Rockrimmon wielding a sword nearby this time. Yet, if he attempted to inconvenience her further, she would indeed give a good accounting of herself. She looked at him, studied his bruised and bloodied face, his swollen nose. It would be her mark. Should she need to defend herself from him, she would strike him where Lochlan Rockrimmon had already tenderized his flesh and bone.
“Do not presume to speak to me in such a manner, girl!” he growled. “I am Lord Tremeshton, and you will succumb!”
“Succumb? To you? Unhand me at once or I shall take to screaming!” Faris demanded.
In the next instant, however, Kade Tremeshton twisted her arm, turning her and holding her back against his body. Faris opened her mouth to scream but was silenced when he covered her mouth with his free hand.
“It was foolish—your coming here, leaving Tremeshton Manor,” he growled in her ear. “To think you could escape me by running to Maranda Rockrimmon and her pathetic son. Foolish!”
Determined to escape him, Faris reached back over her head with her free arm. Taking hold of his hair in one desperate fist, she pulled as hard as she could, simultaneously stomping on his foot with the heel of her shoe. It was enough to distract him into releasing her, and she ran.
“You will not run from me again, Faris!” he shouted as she pushed against the servants’ door and stumbled into the kitchen.
“Mary!” she cried. “Joseph! Help me!” Frantically she glanced about the room. It was empty, and fear gripped her tighter as Kade burst into the room.
“Do not make this so difficult, Faris,” he growled. “Do not vex me further. I warn you!”
He would catch her; she knew he would. Still, if she could just make her way back to the great hall, perhaps Lady Rockrimmon and the others would yet be there. Surely Kade would not assault her with Lady Rockrimmon present.
Faris felt the floor come up fast to meet her—felt Kade’s strong hand
at her ankle. He had tripped her, and she was sent sprawling to the floor. Taking hold of the back of her dress, he pulled her to her feet, trying to grasp her arm. Faris fought him, slapping his hands and face, beating her fists against his solid chest. She managed to hit him square in one eye, and he winced, letting go of her for moment. A moment was all she needed, and she leapt from his grasp, dashing away once more.
“Milady!” she cried out as she ran. “Milady!” Surely she was close enough to the great hall to be heard. She felt her head jerk back painfully, the villain having caught hold of her hair. “Milady!” she cried as tears escaped her eyes. Instinct told her to remain still—not to struggle for the moment. Thus, she pretended to be completely powerless as Kade took hold of her chin. Surely someone had heard her calling! Surely Lady Rockrimmon had heard her. Old Joseph and the others would find her any moment. Surely they would.
“What a fuss, Faris,” Kade said glaring down at her. He released her hair, but held tightly to her chin. His breath reeked of spirits, and Faris thought she might vomit from the smell of it. “All this to avoid a man most woman endeavor to catch? All this to avoid a kiss?” Faris glared at him as he said, “That is correct, Faris—only a kiss. It is all I’ve ever wanted of you,” he lied. As his head descended toward hers, Faris spit at his eyes. He winced, and she managed to pull free of his grasp.
“I would rather die!” she cried out.
“That can well be arranged!” he growled, lunging at her.
Faris was quick and avoided his grasp, running toward the great hall once more. She could see the light streaming in from the large windows of the great hall. A few more steps and perhaps she would be safe. She could not believe she was running—running through the hall of Loch Loland Castle—running from persistent evil in the broad light of day.
“Milady!” she cried, her voice soft, lost with fear and the fatigue of eluding her predator.
The Highwayman of Tanglewood Page 19