The Gunns were more important to him and the only family he needed or wanted. His loyalty was already taken.
Sean refilled his bowl with the delicious pottage Bree made and began spooning in mouthfuls. As hungry as he was, he’d likely eat three bowls before he left to attend his duty.
“There’s no reason why you shouldn’t at least meet him,” Grey said.
“You won’t let this go will you?” Sean finished off the pottage, sated and felt much better. His stomach groaned from the brew he’d drunk the night before. And now his head began pounding, but that wasn’t caused by the drink.
“I won’t need you for some time. There’s nothing happening around here. I will have Duff send the most seasoned guardsmen to the keep to add to our protection, if that is your concern? Besides, I was going to add additional guards and give you, James and Colm time off.”
“It is a concern and I’m glad you’re considering it. Still, it doesn’t make me feel right leaving you here with inadequate protection. I’ve my duties and nothing will detain me from them.” Sean needed to come up with some excuse.
“I give you leave. Go and find out what the man wants.” Grey leaned forward, trying to intimidate him with a look that meant he should take heed. “I met Hume a few times at council meetings by the border. He looked to be a fair man. From our discussions, he led me to believe he’s in full support of our king. Even so, he’s your only family, Sean. You cannot dismiss this without a thought.”
“He is not my family and I sure as hell can,” he said, and was about to rise when James stopped him.
“What if I go with you? You don’t need us, Grey, and Sean could use the support on the journey. We’ll go, see what he wants, and return within a week, fortnight at the most.”
Sean was about to protest, but Grey stood and said, “Then it is settled. You will leave on the morrow. That’s an order.”
He’d be dejected leaving his beloved home, but there was nothing he could do. Sean was not one to blatantly scoff at or ignore a command.
CHAPTER THREE
Frances rode through the village adjacent to the lands where she lived, wishing her homecoming was more jubilant. She loved the old castle and the eccentric servants her uncle employed. This was definitely not the joyous return she envisioned.
The villagers had closed their windows and none were out attending to their daily tasks. At this time of day the village should be bustling with people selling and buying wares. Forlornly, she wondered if her uncle had succumbed and the villagers were already mourning. She hoped not, because she dearly wanted to say goodbye and hoped she had made it in time.
After riding the lengthy lane that led to her home, the dank, foreboding castle came into view. Her heart swelled with love. Even though it was old and drafty, she cherished it. Within minutes, she would find out if the news was devastating.
As she passed through the gate, she noticed the courtyard and buildings along the trail to the castle vacant. Except for the guardsmen posted at the gatehouse and in the bailey, all hid. Frances left her palfrey at the door, knowing the guard would bring her satchel and other belongings inside.
“My lady, I’ll take care of unpacking. Go and see him,” Jacob, the keep’s steward, said.
She nodded and was thankful he’d come to deliver the message in Edinburg. With Jacob along on the journey home, she needed not worry about protection.
“Thank you, Jacob, and for your protection as well.”
Frances hastily entered the castle and stood listening to the ominous silence.
The castle windows, what little there were, were covered with fabrics. A darkened abode met her and she stood wary to move forward. The old castle’s musty scent engulfed her. She listened for sounds, but none came. Frances took the stairs and the old wood creaked beneath each step.
Outside her uncle’s chamber door, she waited, drawing in an apprehensive breath. Determined, she opened the door and saw the healer and two nuns from a nearby abbey standing at his bedside. When she approached, she expected to find him barely hanging on to life.
William yanked the cup from the healer and tossed it aside onto the floor. “I will not drink that vile remedy. I must have my mind clear. Ah, Fancy, you arrived. Come closer, dearest. The rest of you can leave. Be gone, ye vile women.”
Frances felt the stirring of smile, for her uncle’s brashness was still there within his demeanor. The three women left the chamber hastily and quietly closed the door.
“You really shouldn’t be unkind, Uncle, they are trying to help you.”
“Bah, trying to help me meet my maker before I’m ready.”
“What ails you? You don’t look as though you’re dying. Did you speak a falsehood?” Frances leaned closer to get a better look at him and she felt his head for fever. His head was cool to the touch.
“When have I ever told a falsehood? I am dying. I told the healer I had a wee bit of life left in me and business to tend to. She wants me drugged with cowbane and unconscious. Nay, I say! I will stay awake until the very end.”
She tucked the coverings around him, and refrained from smiling. “Can I get you anything? What can I do to make you comfortable?”
He patted the bedside. “Sit, for I’ve something to say.”
She did as he requested, and sat on the edge of the bedding. “What is so important? I am gladdened that you called me home. I sent a missive off to you only yestermorn asking for an escort. The queen released me of my duty. I was tiring of Edinburgh.”
“I knew as much, lass. Aye, you didn’t want to go, but I am happy you did. The queen bid you to come in service to her … and we could not gainsay her. Besides, ye were only existing here and not living. You’ve been like a daughter to me, Fancy.” He took her hand and gently squeezed it. “Your father, my comrade, would have been proud of ye.”
She sensed the weakness of his fingers and noticed how dull his eyes had become. Lord William always was spry and had bright eyes. He loved life and often teased her and called her Fancy. She’d never heard such an endearment before, but he’d said he called her that because she was elegant. He’d compared her to a graceful hall, which gleamed with candles and the finest household items.
Frances laughed at his comparison, for she was vastly the opposite. She was plain and no way resembled anything so grand. But William said she wasn’t plain and wasn’t unnoticeable. She was Fancy.
“You always become melancholy when you speak of my father. I don’t want you to be so. You’ll tire yourself. If you’re really not dying, we can speak on the morrow. I shall tuck you in for a nice rest.” She kissed his forehead and was about to exit his chamber, but he took hold of her wrist.
“Nay, Fancy, please stay. Now that you’re home, we should speak. I’ve betrothed you.”
She gasped, surprised by his admission. “You have? To whom?” Several men’s names came instantly to mind and she held her breath hoping not to hear any of them.
“I don’t want ye to be alone after I die. I know how you feel about marriage after what happened to your beloved Robert, but you can’t be alone. I cannot leave ye unprotected.”
“I still miss him,” she said forlornly.
Her uncle gave her a gentle smile. “You miss the ideal of him. Och ye must move on, lass. There are other fine men who would make a good husband. I vow you’ll find your betrothed handsome and worthy, a more honorable man does not exist.”
“I’m accustomed to being alone now and it doesn’t bother me.” Frances enjoyed the freedom of not having to answer to a husband, even if she still had to follow her uncle’s orders. Everyone’s ministrations were to wed her off.
“I cannot be at peace until I know you’re safe and cared for.”
His words sunk her heart. Putting it like that, how could she not see reason? She nodded firmly, conceding to his will, once again. “Uncle, why did you not write and tell me of this? You never keep secrets from me.”
“I didn’t want you to dwell on i
t. If I’d told ye, would you have returned so hastily?”
She shrugged her shoulder in answer. “Mayhap not. I jest, Uncle, for I certainly would have returned. Ermintrude is here.”
“Aye, your sweet daughter missed you and has grown. Have ye seen her?”
Frances raised her brows. “Nay, I came to see you first. Cease dawdling, Uncle, and tell me who you betrothed me to. I’m beginning to think you’re delaying the telling.”
“I wrote to him months ago and surely he’s received my missive by now. My hope is he arrives before I meet my maker. If not it shall still be done …”
“Uncle! Please, cease dawdling.” Frances swore her heart stopped beating, waiting for his answer.
“He is my daughter’s son, my nephew. You shall wed into the family as your father and I wished.”
“You never spoke of this.” She wondered if indeed he was being deceitful.
“Aye, we made plans to betroth the two of you when you were bairns, but with what happened … I didn’t deem he would agree to wed ye and so I betrothed ye to Robert. What a blunder that turned out to be.” William closed his eyes, his breath slowing, becoming harsh.
Frances touched his face, his prickly whiskers growing since he’d been bedridden. “I wouldn’t say blunder, for it gave me Ermintrude. You never mentioned a nephew. Is he a good man?”
William opened his eyes and nodded. “Aye, he is. We’re estranged, but I saw him a few times. He’s grown into a fine man. I fear I’ve done him wrong, Fancy, and I couldn’t make the wrong right until now.”
“Why is he angry with you? What did you do to cause such disdain? I cannot fathom it because you’re the kindliest man I know.” Frances didn’t like where the conversation was headed.
“He may be angry, och I hope to set it right. I’ll only speak of my ill-deed with him, lass. I’ve been corresponding with the Gunn chieftain about him for years. His laird knew I would eventually send for him. I saw my nephew a few times when his laird came for meetings here by the border. He’s honorable, strong, capable and devoted.”
She exhaled a garish breath. “All that? You speak highly of him.”
“A finer man you could not find. I want you to wed him. It is my dying wish, Fancy. You won’t disappoint me, will you, lass?” His eyes grew dark, imploring her.
She wanted to protest, but her uncle had never been wrong in his assessment of others. If he thought the man worthy then she would believe him. “I don’t wish to disappoint you, Uncle. Shall I meet him before the wedding? I feel as if I’m dishonoring Robert.”
“Robert would not wish ye to be unhappy. You’ve mourned him longer than you should, aye longer than convention. You’re young and should be wedded.” William tried to clasp her hand, but he was weakening. “I hope he comes soon, Fancy. You will wed as soon as he arrives. It must be done hastily and in secret. None must know until after I depart.” He gasped, taking in an uneasy breath.
“You’re upset. I won’t have you worrying yourself. You rest and we’ll speak of this again.” She patted the covering and then touched his face in farewell.
“I am tired, lass. Aye, let me rest for a wee bit. Promise to come and see me this eve.”
“We’ll dine together and can continue our discussion. I’ll return later,” she agreed, and left him to his slumbering.
Outside his chamber, the healer and nuns awaited. They reentered the room with her nod. She was glad to have them there watching over him even though the healer was known to be antiquated when it came to healing methods.
Frances couldn’t wait to see Ermintrude and hastened to the end of the hall. She threw open the door to the nursery and saw her sitting on the floor playing with a small white cat.
“My heart!”
“Momma, you’re here!” Ermintrude ran and threw herself in her arms.
Frances barely caught her with the force of her hug. She breathed in the scent of her sweet baby and rocked her. “I missed you so very much.”
“I have a cat.”
She knelt on the flooring, contentedly holding the wee lass in her arms. With a pet to the cat’s head, she heard her daughter’s giggle. “So I see.”
“Her name’s Libby. Uncle William gave ‘er to me.”
Frances wiped a happy tear from her face. Joy came at being reunited with her child. Her fingers stroked the long sable tresses falling at her daughter’s back. “You must have been such a good lass for him to give you a cat.”
“Oh, aye, Momma. I was good. You’re home.” She set her small arms around her neck and hugged her tight.
“I am.”
Ermintrude sniffled. “Are ye going away again?”
“Oh nay, my heart. I’m here to stay.”
She picked up her cat and held it in an awkward position, beneath its forearms. “Promise?”
“I do promise. Now I must go and change for supper. I will see you before then.”
Her daughter’s focus was caught by the cat that bounded to the other side of the chamber when it was freed. There was no way to compare with a lively cat to hold a four-year-old’s attention.
Frances nodded to Alice, the young maid who oversaw the nursery. The tall lanky lass was the daughter of Stephen and Mattie, who also worked at the keep and village. Stephen was the village miller and made the best garments, and his wife, Maddie, became the keep’s cook.
Alice appeared older looking than when she’d last seen her. Her eyes seemed bluer and her dark, almost black hair, much longer. She was a striking lass and one that had to have the village lads vying for her hand.
“Hello, Alice, I thank you for taking such good care of Ermintrude. She looks well.”
“Oh, I was happy to, my lady. She’s grown hasn’t she? I’ve had to let out her garments twice since ye left.”
She nodded. “I believe she has. You’re getting big, Ermintrude, and likely outgrowing your garments daily. Soon you’ll be a lady.”
Ermintrude snickered. “Aye then I can wear gowns like ye and Alice.”
“You certainly will. I must go and change now. I will see you soon.” Frances closed the door behind her and stood in the hallway, tears gathering in her eyes.
Some of the tears were happy, but most sad. She wondered if Robert would have loved their child. Would he have minded a daughter or would he have been disappointed? She couldn’t bear to think of him and shook the despondent thoughts away.
She reached her chamber and after closing the door, she looked lovingly at her surroundings. This was her domain, the place she felt the safest, the place where she could be herself and do as she pleased.
“It’s good to be home,” she said aloud.
She released a relieved sigh to be home and began unpacking her satchel. When she had gotten to the rest of her belongings, she noticed a satchel which didn’t belong to her. It was made of black leather and looked to be sturdy and of fine craftsmanship. She considered one of the guardsmen must have delivered it to her chamber by mistake. With that thought, she carried it to the lower level and found Davy, the castle’s main caretaker, and explained what happened.
The man nearly blind from age probably didn’t realize it wasn’t hers. But he cackled a laugh and pointed to one of the guards who had ridden with her. “Not my responsibility, my lady, to bring baggage to your chamber.”
She could have laughed at Davy’s disgruntlement, for he was such a cantankerous old man. “You there,” she said to a young guard walking by, “Someone delivered this to my chamber by mistake.”
The young lad shook the hair out of his eyes. “Nay, my lady, none of us had satchels except for Master Jacob for he’d arrived in Edinburg a few days ahead of us. I saw him take his. It was with your belongings.”
“That is strange,” she said, and thanked him.
Frances returned to her chamber and was hesitant to open it. After receiving the harsh messages with reprehensible words, and then the box with the dead flowers … Surely she shouldn’t open it to see what was inside.
But Frances wasn’t a coward, and she thought she could probably figure out who it belonged to.
She turned the clasp on the top and began to open it. An awful smell wafted from within, but she opened the satchel wider. A white garment lay inside. She pulled it out and saw that it was a night-rail, her night-rail. She recognized it because she’d sewn a blue velvet bow on the neckline.
As she held it up, she saw blood smeared all over the front. In shock and horror, she dropped it and ran from the chamber.
Frances took the secret passageway at the end of the hallway to the door and steps that led to the barbican. She stood by the wall encasing the walkway and breathed deeply. The wind whipped fiercely upon the high wall and lashed her hair from its ties.
Whenever she missed Robert or needed to settle herself, she retreated to the walkway by the crenellation and instantly calmed. She felt as though he was with her and she, closer to him. Her harsh breath and rapid heartbeat came under control, and she sat on a bench where she had a good view of the rolling hills.
Why would someone do this? What kind of message was that? Did someone want to kill her? She couldn’t believe someone sent that, but the really scary thought was that they had gotten in her chamber and had touched her belongings.
Frances hadn’t taken that night-rail when she went to Edinburgh. Whoever wanted to harm or frighten her had been in her chamber when she wasn’t there. Then a really frightening thought came. Could they get inside the keep when she was there?
Gazing at the rolling fields, she saw two men on horses riding over the last hill. She stood and watched them for a few moments.
My betrothed.
“Oh, Robert, I do hope you’ll forgive me. But I am tired of being alone. I’m frightened.” Frances would have accepted any man her uncle recommended even if she balked at marriage.
In this day and age, a woman was open for a harsh life if unwed, and she didn’t want that for her and Ermintrude. If her uncle was indeed dying, she would need to be secure. Her uncle was a good judge of character, and besides now she could write to the queen and have her put the absurdity of marrying Adam Armstrong from her agenda.
A Highlander In Peril (Gunn Guardsman) Page 4