Border Storm

by Amanda Scott

  She was a little disappointed when he didn’t. Instead, he released her, doing so slowly, as if he were concentrating on the movement, being sure that he let go.

  “Who rode here with you?” he growled, taking a step back.

  When she did not reply at once, his eyes narrowed.

  “I thought they told you,” she said then. “I came with Andrew.”

  Color surged into his face, and she saw his hands clench and knew that he wanted to grab her again. This time, she was just as glad that he did not.

  “Andrew? No one else? Are you mad, Laura?”

  She nearly told him that Davy Elliot had followed her, that he had shown her how to load Andrew’s pistol, and that the boy was armed, but she knew that none of those things would cool his hot temper. She did not want to land the boy in even more trouble, nor did she want Hugh to take his precious pistol away.

  Forcing calm that she did not feel, she said, “I am not mad, sir. If you will but think, you must realize that alone with a lad like Andrew I was far safer than I’d have been had I somehow persuaded Geordie to send an armed escort with me.”

  She saw that he did not agree with her, but before he could explain how wrong she was, she added, “I never could have persuaded Geordie, in any event. My people are important to me, sir, just as yours are important to you. Once I knew that you had Sym, I had to come. He was with me that day in the tree. I care deeply about his welfare.”

  Hugh straightened, and she could tell that he had made his decision and would not easily be swayed from it. A chill touched her.

  He said, “I will take you back to Brackengill myself. Henceforth, until the matter is settled before a jury, you will remain there. I should have made matters plain to my people from the outset. I will not make that error again.”

  He did not look at her, but she had already seen the new expression in his eyes, and the thought that she had given him pain tore at her. She admired his sense of honor and the compassion that she had seen him display, but presently those two traits were causing his pain, and she could blame only herself for that.

  The least she could do now was to conceal her distress from him. He was doing what he thought was right, and knowing that he did not want to do it troubled her, but it also gave her the strength not to fight him anymore.

  He gathered what men he could spare from Corbies Nest, leaving Ned Rowan in charge of those he left behind. Andrew rode with them, just behind Hugh and Laurie, and they rode southeast toward the crossing at Kershopefoot, the safest and easiest place to cross into England. They were riding alongside Liddel Water, quite near the place where Martin Loder had gone into the Liddel, and Sir Hugh had just asked Laurie to fall behind a bit because he wanted a few private words with Andrew, when a shout from behind drew their attention.

  To Laurie’s surprise, the rider was Sym, and he galloped his pony up to them as boldly as if he had not been Sir Hugh’s prisoner just a few hours before.

  As Sym drew rein, Hugh frowned, saying curtly, “What do you want?”

  “Please, sir, me dad said I was to tell Mistress Laurie that there be raiders on the move on the English side. Ye’d all gone from Corbies Nest, but your man Rowan said he’d heard there might be raiders after your herd. He said he’d already sent a man after ye but that I should ride after ye, too, and tell ye so, although I dinna think he believed a word I tellt him,” Sym added with a grimace.

  Hugh looked from Laurie to the boy and back again, saying, “More of your tricks, lass? Because, by Heaven, if this is another of them, I’ll take a strap to that pretty backside of yours as soon as we reach Brackengill. I don’t doubt I should have done so long since.”

  She shook her head. “I know naught of this, sir. Who are the raiders, Sym?”

  “I dinna ken, Mistress Laurie, but Davy did say ’twas Ally the Bastard wha’ saw them, and Ally said they be English, not Scot—out o’ Tynedale, most like.”

  Sardonically, Hugh said, “Just what would this Ally the Bastard be doing to see raiders on the English side? And where is the messenger Ned Rowan sent after us. Answer me that, lad.”

  Sym shrugged. “I dinna ken, but Ally didna say nothing about your herd, sir. Only Rowan did. Ally said only that he’d seen raiders and that Mistress Laurie should know about ’em afore she rode back to Brackengill.”

  “Why did he send you?”

  “’Cause me dad said ye’d be more like to believe it were true if I was the one to tell ye. He said ye’d ken that I’d no be putting me head in the lion’s den twice in a day were I no telling the truth.”

  “I do not doubt that they want me to believe you,” Hugh said. He looked around at the little party. “I dare not ignore the warning,” he said to the nearest of his men. “The lad will stay with us. Four of you can ride on ahead to see if aught is amiss at Haggbeck and to warn them to keep a sharp eye out for raiders. The rest of us will stay out of the open by riding through Kershopefoot Forest to Bewcastle. We’ll seek beds there and ride on to Brackengill in the morning.”

  Accordingly, he selected the four men to ride on, told Sym to ride beside Laurie because he still wanted to have a talk with Andrew, then led what remained of his little party through the village of Kershope, across the little burn that marked the line, and into the shelter of the forest on the English side.

  The attack came twenty minutes later without warning, as men dropped from trees and riders surged out of the shrubbery to surround them, lashing out with clubs and swords. Gunshots rang out, several of Sir Hugh’s men fell, and Laurie lost sight of both Hugh and Andrew when a number of attackers cut her off from them.

  Finding herself still next to Sym, she quickly bent near him to say, “Get clear of this if you can, laddie. Take shelter in a tree as we did before, and then get to Davy and go with him to Sir Quinton at Broadhaugh. Tell them that I know not who these villains are but that they are none of ours, and we need help!”

  Seeing him tumble from his pony moments later, she feared that he had been wounded but stifled her cry when she saw him roll into thick undergrowth and disappear. A moment later, she saw a man strike Sir Hugh from behind with a club, just as a man grabbed her reins from her hand and another wrapped a strong arm around her waist and held her. Although she kicked and fought, they held her so easily that one or the other of them even dared to fondle her breasts.

  Within moments, they had tied her hands and bound a cloth sack over her head. Thus, although she was still on her own saddle, she could not see what direction they rode. Nor, although she strained her ears to hear just one familiar voice, could she hear any that she recognized. Terrified that Sir Hugh and Andrew were both dead, she did not try to stem the tears that streamed down her cheeks. After a time, exhausted, she slumped forward over her pony’s neck and slept.

  Twenty-three

  The cat she came to my cage-door,

  The thief I could not see…

  LAURIE’S CAPTORS SPOKE LITTLE, their pace was leisurely, and she slept until they stopped riding. Someone lifted her from her saddle and slung her over his shoulder, still tied and blindfolded, but she could tell that he went indoors and began descending stairs. The sounds of boots on the steps told her that the steps were made of stone and that others followed them, but she knew no more than that until the man carrying her set her on her feet.

  He still did not speak, but she heard a soft thud nearby as he untied her hands. Then he and whoever had been with him left, and there was only silence.

  It took her a moment to find the strings tying the cloth over her head, and minutes more for her numbed fingers to untie the knots. When she pulled the cloth off, she saw through a narrow slit high in the wall that it was nearly dark outside, but sufficient light still penetrated the otherwise empty cell to let her see Sir Hugh’s body lying nearby on a skimpy pile of straw.

  Laurie saw almost at once that Sir Hugh was still breathing, but although she quickly untied his hands and feet, he remained unconscious and she could not wake him. S
he sat beside him, dozing off and on and listening unsuccessfully for sounds to reveal something of their surroundings. The cell grew black and then dimly light again before Hugh stirred at last.

  Thanking God for His mercy, Laurie touched Hugh’s arm gently and said, “Oh, do wake up!”

  She saw one flinty gray eye slowly open, as if he meant to test each part of himself before deciding that he might survive.

  He opened the other eye, moved his head slightly, then winced and groaned.

  “One of the brutes struck you with a club,” she said sympathetically.

  “He struck hard.” Hugh’s voice sounded as if his vocal cords were mired in sand. “Where are we?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “They put something over my head. I don’t know which direction we rode, so I do not know if we are in Scotland or England, and I’m afraid I fell asleep, so I cannot even say how long it took us to get here.”

  His eyes narrowed, then focused directly on her. “Did any of those bastards touch you?”

  “Just to bind my hands and to secure the cloth over my head,” she said, seeing nothing to gain by telling him about the lout who had dared to touch her breast. It would serve only to anger him, and he could do nothing about it now.

  He sighed. “There is some light, at least, so I doubt we are in a dungeon.”

  “Well, the walls are stone, but there is a wooden door and that narrow window high up in the wall looks like some I saw at Corbies Nest,” she said, gesturing toward it. “I think we must be in some sort of a peel tower like that one.”

  “Then, unless this one is in a similar state of disrepair, our captor may be a man of substance,” Hugh said. “Did you not hear familiar voices?”

  “None, but they spoke very little,” she said. “There is one good thing, though, that I should tell you. I think Sym was able to conceal himself from them. If he did, he will ride for Broadhaugh as soon as he can to seek help.”

  “Excellent,” he said, but she detected a slight twinkle in his eyes.

  Ruffling, she said, “Do you dare to laugh, sir? I know he is only a lad—”

  “Nay, lassie,” he protested, “I cry innocence. He is no younger than Meggie’s Andrew, and if I do feel some amusement, it is because I sent Andrew on the same mission. The young rascal had a pistol half drawn when I saw it, and fearing they would shoot him if any of them saw it, I grabbed his arm and ordered him to go for help. I think that must be when the man struck me, because I don’t remember anything more. I only hope that the villains did not catch both lads.”

  “I think we would know if they had,” she said. “Nothing I saw or heard suggested other than that they believed they had captured our entire party.”

  “Well, do not set your hopes too high,” he advised.

  “But if Andrew rode for Brackengill and Sym for Broadhaugh—”

  “I did not send Andrew to Brackengill,” he said. “With my men split between the castle and Haggbeck, there are too few in either place to do us much good. I sent Andrew to Broadhaugh, too. That is what seemed amusing.”

  “But why did you not send for Scrope?”

  “Even if I could trust him, I do not know exactly where he is at present. Moreover, swift action is needed, and sending all the way to Carlisle would take too long. However, I do trust Janet. She may have married across the line, but she is a woman of integrity, and I am her brother. If there is aught that she can do to help us, she will. There may be one small problem, however.”

  She knew at once what it was. “If both Andrew and Sym rushed off to seek help, they will not know where to find us,” she said with a sigh. “I told Sym to tell Davy, though, and…” She paused, wondering if she should say more, and deciding that she must. “Davy can get word to Rabbie Redcloak, sir, and some of Rabbie’s men are excellent hunters and trackers. If they get word of our trouble, they may be still be able to follow us. There has been no rain to destroy our tracks.”

  He chuckled, winced again, then gathered himself, clearly intending to rise.

  Laurie reached swiftly to stop him. “Don’t! You may be more seriously hurt than you know. You may even do yourself further injury.”

  “Calm yourself, lass. I’ve naught amiss with me save a lump on my head. It aches like the devil and will doubtless continue to do so, but I do not mean to die yet, if that is what’s troubling you.”

  “I never thought you would die; I just think you should move slowly,” she said with careful dignity. She did not want him to know how terrified she had been, first when she had thought him dead and then again when he had failed to regain consciousness quickly.

  He did not reply at once, clearly focusing his energy instead on raising himself to a sitting position. As he leaned back gently against the wall, he said, “I suppose it is too much to hope that they left us water.”

  “None,” she said. “Does your head ache worse now that you are sitting?”

  “Not noticeably. You lied to me, Laura.”

  A prickling sensation shot up her spine. “Did I?”

  “Aye, when you said you did not fear that I would die.”

  “I never…” Her words trailed to silence when he grinned at her. He looked much more like his usual self.

  “Lassie, give it up,” he said. “Your thoughts are written plain on your face for anyone to see. They always are. You are safe enough, though. I doubt that I have strength enough to beat you.”

  “You wouldn’t! Not for being worried about you—that would be daft.”

  “More than daft,” he agreed. “Come here, lass. I feel a chill, and it is your duty to warm me, so that I do not sicken in this gruesome place.”

  Warily, she obeyed, uncertain of him in this odd humor. But when she sat beside him and he put an arm around her, drawing her close, she leaned her head against his shoulder with a grateful sigh.

  “If you must know the truth,” she muttered, “it frightened me nearly to death, seeing you so.”

  “I’ll warrant it did,” he said quietly. “It would have frightened the wits out of me had our positions been reversed. You are a remarkable woman, you know.”

  “Pray, sir, do not talk nonsense to me. I am naught of the sort.”

  “You should not contradict me. It is most unbecoming. I know of only one other woman who would greet our present circumstances with anything remotely akin to your equanimity, and she would be striding tiresomely back and forth, demanding that I get up and do something about it.”

  “Your sister?”

  “Aye. Janet would not allow such a situation to terrify her, but she would not greet it calmly either. Did they ever tell you what she said when she found Quin in that cell at Carlisle?”

  “No, what?”

  “She taunted him. Told him that she’d disobeyed him again and that there was naught he could do about it since he was too weak even to stand up. She even swore at him and told him to get up and walk since she couldn’t carry him. She told me about it herself, even boasted of her impudence, the cheeky wench.”

  Laurie tried and failed to suppress an unexpected bubble of laughter at the picture his words painted in her mind. “She didn’t!”

  “She did. She said she did it to stir him to action, because they had too little time for coaxing. I think she did it just because she knew she could get away with it and could say exactly what she wanted to say for once.”

  “Aye, well, I warrant she said it then, but I do not believe that Janet the Bold would have left him there even if she had not had others with her to help,” Laurie said. “Nor would she demand that you get up now and do something when there is clearly nothing that either of us can do. You must regain your strength, and we must learn more about our situation. It would be foolhardy to waste our energy.”

  “My sister is overbold, however, and she rarely shows proper respect to the men in her family. I tell you, she would insist that I do something.”

  “Perhaps, but if she spoke to her husband the way you describe, I thi
nk she must have believed it was necessary,” Laurie said. “They say she loves him dearly.”

  “I reckon she does, at that, so you may have the right of it. For a Scot, he’s tolerable enough. It does annoy me, however, that I find myself presently dependent upon his goodwill and his ability to follow a trail.”

  “I doubt that Sir Quinton has as much skill as Rabbie’s Bairns have,” Laurie said with a smile. “We would be wiser to depend on Sym’s going to Davy first. They will tell Lady Scott and Sir Quinton what occurred, but Davy will get word to Rabbie Redcloak.”

  “I suppose that means that Davy Elliot is one of Rabbie’s Bairns,” Hugh said with a wry grimace. “Oh, do not fear; I suspect that most of those men in Tarras Wood are his followers, but that does not matter a whit to me now. We must just hope that someone finds us soon and sets us free.”

  “Until they do, perhaps you would do better to sleep if you can,” Laurie suggested. “If you would like to use my lap as a pillow, you may.”

  “I’ll not turn down such a generous offer, lass.”

  That he did not argue told her his head ached more than he would admit. He eased himself back down again, and when he laid his head in her lap, she stroked his brow, trying to smooth the frown away. She was glad to find that, although his skin felt warm, he was not feverish.

  “Your hand is cool,” he said, “and your lap makes a soft pillow.”

  “Go to sleep,” she said, not wanting to discuss what it felt like to have his head in her lap. The horrid cell was no place to think about the feelings and emotions that just touching him stirred within her.

  He shifted to his side, trying to get more comfortable, and one large hand rested briefly on her knee and slid upward, stirring more tension in her body.

  Restlessly, he turned again to his back and gazed up at her. “Are you sure that my head is not too heavy for you?”

  “Just sleep,” she muttered.

  He shut his eyes, and she felt him relax. His head was heavy on her thigh, but she did not mind. Leaning her head against the stone wall, she closed her eyes and tried to think of something—anything—other than their present dilemma.