“Beloved,” he said softly, leading her toward the stair, “you have no need to fear. I have not stolen your father’s gold. Lachlan will find nothing in our room, I promise you.”
Sixty-One
Fear
Stared in her eyes, and chalk’d her face.
ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON
Oh, my Rose. What have you done?
Leana stood in the center of her lodging room, Ian in her arms, Annabel and Eliza huddled beside her. While they watched, Lachlan dragged gowns out of trunks and tossed linens out of baskets with brutish disregard. He would plunder Rose’s room next. And Leana feared what he might find.
Her sister had stolen their father’s gold. Leana was almost certain of it.
She could not imagine how Rose had accomplished such a reckless deed, but all the signs pointed to that disastrous possibility. A cradle full of blankets, carefully guarded. Secretive trips to the kirks. And yestermorn, a purse filled with silver.
When Jamie had made his rash promise, the fear on Rose’s face had stopped Leana’s heart.
Why dearie? Why did you take it? And not tell Jamie? Such questions would have to wait. Leana’s only concern now was protecting her sister. “Father, you are welcome to search our room again—”
“I do not need your permission.” He emptied the contents of her reticule on the mattress and pawed through her few personal items. “You are my daughter, these are my maidservants, and my silver purchased everything in this room.”
“Except Ian,” she said softly, holding him close.
Her father swung round to glare at her. “You paid for him, all right. That bairn cost you everything.”
She shielded Ian’s ears from Lachlan’s cruel words. “No price would ever be too high.”
Morna’s three sons—Leana could not think of them as her brothers—stood near the fireplace like sentinels, arms folded across their chests. Menacing her without words.
When Jamie appeared at the door, she saw Rose slip past him, headed to their room. Leana nodded at Jamie, praying he might stay while Rose did whatever was necessary to save herself. Quickly, Rose.
Just as she’d hoped, Jamie strode into the room, his fine clothes accentuating his superior rank in society. Judging by her father’s curled lip, the effect was not lost on him.
“So, Uncle, it appears you’ve not found any stolen property.”
“But I am not finished.” Lachlan ordered Gavin to search beneath the bed, only to see him emerge empty-handed, covered with dust. “Och! Keep looking.” Lachlan made a great show of heaving furniture about, searching in places he’d already examined, to no avail.
“We have one room left.” Lachlan marched past Jamie. “Are you coming, lads?”
The moment the men reached the corridor, with Jamie close on their heels, Leana turned to the maidservants, both on the verge of collapse. “Eliza, I need you to care for Ian. I must go to my sister, and ’tis not … safe for my son there. Can you do that for me?”
Eliza bobbed her head, reaching for the child. He’d started whimpering, clearly frightened by the loud sounds and the presence of strangers.
Leana cupped Ian’s cheek and assured him of her swift return, then hurried to her sister’s aid. Whatever secrets Rose might be hiding, Leana would not see her threatened or harmed in any way. Though she lacked a sword, Leana did not enter the room unarmed. Wisdom is better than weapons of war. She would fight for her sister using any means God provided.
Leana skirted the knot of men and went directly to Rose, who was seated on a hard wooden chair, her back to the window, her face white as chalk. Leana stepped to her side and clasped her sister’s icy hand in hers. I am here, Rose.
When Jamie moved to join his wife, Lachlan held out his arm, blocking him. “Not until we’ve searched round that chair.” He then turned and examined every spot but where Rose was seated—the tester bed, the pine wardrobe, the dressing table, both their small trunks, her basket of stockings, her leather valise, her flowered reticule—as if to goad Jamie, to remind him who was in charge.
Sensing her sister’s anguish, Leana leaned down and whispered, “Father cannot hurt you, Rose. I will not allow it, and neither will Jamie.”
When Rose turned toward her, Leana saw the truth in her eyes. Rose had indeed stolen the gold. And it was here. In this room.
“Now then, Rose.” Lachlan swaggered toward her. “Stand, if you please, for I’ll not have you hiding my gold beneath your chair.”
Jamie clamped his hand on the man’s shoulder and yanked him back. “Do not be ridiculous. The chair sits far too low to conceal your entire thrifite of gold.”
“But I don’t need to find the whole of it.” Lachlan shrugged off Jamie’s hand. “You said if I located a single gold coin—just one sovereign—you would run your sword through that person’s heart. ’Tis what you said, lad. One coin.” As he shifted his gaze from Jamie to Rose, a fiendish smile stretched across Lachlan’s face. “Will you honor your vow, Nephew? For one piece of gold?”
Nae, Jamie! Leana implored him with her eyes, pleaded with him to understand.
But Jamie did not look at her; he looked at Rose. And touched his sword as a pledge. “I will honor my vow.”
“See that you do.” Lachlan held out his hand to assist her. “To your feet, Rose.”
She lifted her head, and a band of sunlight fell across her face. “Please do not be angry with me, Father. I fear I cannot rise.”
“Cannot?” he challenged. “Or will not?”
“I cannot.” Rose wet her lips, her eyes starting to glisten. “Pardon me, but I am having … that is … because I am expecting …”
Lachlan glowered at her. “I am the father of two daughters. The mysteries of the female body are not unknown to me, lass.”
“Father, please!” Rose’s face turned scarlet, and so did Leana’s. “Not … here. Not with …” Both women looked down, mortified that such a subject would be discussed in a room full of men.
“Very well.” He waved his hand, dismissing their embarrassment. “Leana, inspect the small square of space underneath your sister’s chair. If you say there is no gold there, I will be satisfied. You are not brave enough to lie to me.”
Jamie leaped to her defense. “Leana is very brave. Yet she would not lie for any reason. Nor will that be necessary.” He inclined his head toward Rose’s chair. “Leana, please look on our behalf so your father may be proven wrong.”
Leana leaned down as far as she gracefully could, then swept aside the hem of Rose’s gown, praying she might speak the truth before God and man. “Nothing.” She could not mask her relief. “Nothing but the polished oak floor.” Straightening, she released her sister’s garment, then took Rose’s hand once more. Already her skin felt warmer. “It seems that Jamie is right. And that you, Father, are in error.”
Lachlan hesitated, but not for long. “I do not believe you are telling me the truth.” He stormed forward, grabbing Leana’s elbow to pull her out of the way even as he thrust his other hand toward Rose. “Suppose I look for myself—”
“Nae!” Jamie’s sword was in his hand. “You will not touch my wife!”
Sixty-Two
I have no words:
My voice is in my sword.
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Which wife do you mean, Nephew? Leana or Rose?”
Jamie slowly extended his blade until the point grazed Lachlan’s neck. “Do not touch either one.”
Straightening, Lachlan backed away as he eyed the sharp tip. “Perhaps you misunderstand me. I have no wish to harm my daughters. Only to reclaim my gold.”
Jamie maneuvered his sword until the point lodged in a button-hole above Lachlan’s heart. “We have not stolen your gold. And you ken it well.”
Lachlan’s chest swelled beneath his blade, daring him to press harder. “You have yet to convince me of that.”
Jamie gripped the carved hilt. “How have I wronged you that you would pursue me like a thief?”
He pinned him with his blade and hounded him with his words. “What crime have I committed? What law have I broken?” Jamie waved his left hand across the disheveled remains of their room, holding his sword steady. “You have searched everything we own, aye? Every trunk, every bit of clothing. Show me what you’ve found that is yours.”
Jamie glanced at the three brothers, who stood against the far wall, smoldering like peat. Did they, too, see the falseness of Lachlan’s charge? Or were they waiting their turn, itching to brandish the dirks sheathed in their boots? Jamie reverted his attention to Lachlan, refusing to be intimidated by their presence. “These lads are your family now. Let them judge between us who is right and who is wrong.”
Even with his shoulders pressed against a corner, Lachlan would not yield, “I am the one wronged this day.”
“This day? Uncle, I have been wronged for two years.” The rage building inside Jamie would not be contained. “Two years of putting up with your swickerie. Two years of herding your flocks without pay. In the cold, in the heat, round the clock, and it was never enough for you. Never!”
“Please, Jamie …” Leana’s soft voice behind him.
“Nae, lass.” Jamie’s arm began to shake and his voice as well. “I will not be merciful when no mercy has been shown me.”
Malcolm stepped forward. “Cousin, I—”
Jamie silenced him with a raised hand. “My quarrel is with my uncle.”
“Och.” Lachlan thrust out his chin. “Your quarrel is with yourself—”
“Nae.” When Jamie twisted his sword point, the button on Lachlan’s coat tore loose, striking the wall. “My quarrel is with you and no one else.”
With military precision, Jamie plucked off another button, then another, as if Lachlan were a general being stripped of his medals. “I worked for Rose’s hand in marriage, yet you deceived all three of us.” A button shot to the floor. “I chose lambs instead of silver, yet you stole them both.” Another ricocheted off the wardrobe. “You are the thief, Lachlan McBride.”
Lachlan’s eyes narrowed. “But you robbed me in return. My daughters, my lambs, my gold—”
“I have not stolen your gold.”
“Jamie! Please don’t …”
Despite the blood pounding in his head, Rose’s plaintive voice drew his eye. She was slumped in the chair, her face ravaged with tears. Och, lass. Is my anger not justified? He fought to steady his voice. “What is it, Rose?”
“I am …” She looked away. “He is … still … our father.”
“So I am.” Lachlan yanked the lapels of his coat, dislodging the slackened blade. “I would gladly cross swords with you, James, with three sons prepared to attend me. You, however, have no second.”
“And you have no blade.” Jamie sheathed his sword with a satisfying ring of metal. A duel was unnecessary. The victory was already won.
Stingy as ever, Lachlan retrieved his buttons without comment and dropped them into his coat pocket. When he stood before Jamie once more, his features bore a hard look of resolve. “Had we four swords among us, I still could not hold one to your throat.”
Jamie barely hid his disgust. “Do not pretend that you care for me.”
“ ’Tis not any fond regard for you that stays my hand, Nephew. I would run you through without regret. But I cannot.” He abruptly dismissed his sons, ordering the threesome down the stair to search for warm ale.
The tense atmosphere in the room eased considerably with the lads’ departure. Rose dried her tears, though she still did not stand, and Leana seemed to be breathing more calmly. The brothers had said little, yet their presence had served as a constant reminder of Lachlan’s strength in numbers.
“I’m curious, Uncle.” Jamie folded his arms across his chest. “Why did you not press your advantage with your sons on hand? Might it be because you found no evidence for your ill-scrapit charges?”
Lachlan’s gray eyes clouded over for a moment, as if he were considering something. When he finally spoke, the resignation in his voice was clear. “I had no choice in the matter. Though I do not bear you any true affection, there is One who does. And he will not see you harmed.”
Jamie stared at the man, confused by his words. “Have you heard from … my father?”
“Nae.” Lachlan colored slightly. “ ’Twas the God of your father. He spoke to me yestreen. In a dream.”
Leana’s mouth fell open. “Truly?”
Lachlan shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the admission. “When I awakened at the Three Thorns, the words of the Almighty were vividly etched in my mind.” He averted his gaze. “I believe you’ve had … such dreams.”
“I … have. Twice.” Jamie’s heart hammered against his chest. Was it possible? Had the Lord intervened on his behalf?
Leana gently urged her father, “Please tell us what you heard.”
“A warning, that is what I heard.” Lachlan looked up, a spark of anger in his eyes. “I was told not to harm you. Nor to impede your journey. I had intended to do both.”
Jamie acknowledged him with a nod, struggling to find words for a truth that could not be denied. “God has been with me … from the beginning. Even when I was at Auchengray … even when I was suffering beneath your yoke.” Jamie dropped his hands, the pain already easing. “He is with me still.”
“So it would seem.” Lachlan consulted his watch, his interest visibly fading. “You will not hold this charge against me?”
“I will not,” Jamie assured him, surprised at how little effort it took. His days of wrestling with Lachlan McBride were over; the future was all that mattered.
His uncle was already halfway to the door. “Then we will away, my sons and I. Our business here is done.”
As Lachlan’s footsteps faded down the stair, Rose spoke up. “Jamie? Might you do something … for me?”
He turned to her, noting at once her pained expression. Had she truly not been able to stand? Was she ill or merely upset? Jamie closed the gap between them and knelt beside her chair. “What a trial this has been for you, lass.” He kissed her soft cheek, chafing her icy hands. “Is there some medicine you require?” Glancing up at Leana, he was struck by the concern in her eyes. “Something your sister might prepare for you?”
“Not just now. But … please see that Father leaves for home … and does not follow us.” She pressed a fervent kiss to his knuckles. “I cannot bear looking over our shoulders all the way to Glentrool, fearing his retribution. Might you strike some peace with them? Father said he would not harm you, but his sons made no such promise.”
“Wisely said, Rose.” Jamie stood, adjusting his waistcoat. “I will find them at once and put your fears to rest.”
When Jamie reached the foot of the stair, Lachlan was nowhere to be seen. At a small dining table near the entrance hall sat three empty ale glasses, the sides still glistening. The lads had not gone far. Jamie hastened out of doors, determined to see the four men astride their horses and pointed east. He trusted the Almighty completely. But he did not trust his uncle or his new cousins.
Encouraged by the sight of three French Trotters near the entrance of the inn, Jamie approached the stable lad, offering him a penny before asking his question. “Have you seen their riders? Three lads with hair the color of clay?”
“I have.” The stout lad grinned, pocketing his coin. “Said they were off on a walk through the village afore takin’ their leave. Doon the main street they went not twa minutes syne.”
“Was an older man with them?”
“Wi’ a scowl on his face? Aye, they left thegither.”
As Jamie strode down the busy street dressed in his lairdly attire, many villagers tipped their hats at him. His costume had served him well. Though he’d not conversed with Murray of Broughton, Jamie had indeed confronted Lachlan McBride.
The row of cottages and shops ran down to the water’s edge, where he spied the three brothers leaning over the stony expanse of the Fleet Bridge, tossing rocks into the water. Lach
lan stood with them, gesturing wildly as he spoke—still enraged about his missing gold. Jamie pitied the thief who’d taken it, for Lachlan would not be merciful.
“Gentlemen.” Jamie approached them, his hand well away from his scabbard lest they misconstrue his actions. “I wonder if I might have a word with you before you leave.”
Ronald leaned back, his elbows propped on the bridge. “Have you not spewed enough words in our faces, Cousin?”
“They were not aimed at you, lad.” Jamie nodded at the rest. “Nor at your brothers.” He did not look at Lachlan. “I’ve come to make certain that we part on … ah, good terms.”
Malcolm threw a jagged rock in the water with more force than necessary. “The only terms that interest us involve the return of our gold.”
“I wish I knew who took it, for I would gladly confess his name.” Jamie meant it sincerely and hoped they heard it as such. “You can be sure Duncan Hastings would never stoop to such a crime.”
“He had good reason to rob me,” Lachlan grumbled, “for I refused to pay him for the term.”
Jamie flinched at the news. Poor Duncan. When he arrived at Glentrool, he would send the man sufficient silver to cover his losses. “Duncan had many chances over the years to pocket your silver, and he touched nary a coin. He is not a thief, and you ken that’s so.”
Lachlan grunted in response.
“Willie does not have the smeddum,” Jamie continued, “nor Hugh the nerve. In any case, had one of your servants done anything so foolish, he would have departed Auchengray at once. Both men were still there when you arrived, aye?”
“They were,” Gavin said bluntly. “Since it appears you are not the culprit, we’ve little choice but to return to Newabbey and inform the sheriff of our loss.”
Jamie thrust out his hand. “May the Lord watch over you on your journey home, even as he sees us safely to Monnigaff.”
One by one, the brothers begrudgingly shook his hand. When Jamie turned to Lachlan, no hand was offered him. Only a scowl and a narrow gaze.
Whence Came a Prince Page 39