by Amanda Scott
“—that Dougal wanted Lina for a similar purpose,” Colquhoun said. “But if you or Dougal thinks Andrew Dubh would give Pharlain the last piece of Arrochar that Andrew holds in exchange for Lina’s return, ye’re both daft.”
“Do you think he would not?” Ian asked, stunned.
“I think Andrew would raise an army against Pharlain instead. And, by God, I’d help him. In troth, though, lad, I doubt that Pharlain is stupid enough to keep any young woman hostage. It is one thing to seize a man’s land, another to seize his daughter. What fool decided to capture those two lassies in the first place?”
“Dougal,” Ian said.
“Neither of us has ever thought much of him,” Colquhoun said.
Dismissing Dougal, Ian said, “I am sorry for any trouble I may have stirred for you or Dunglass, sir. I knew that you were fain to leave for Dumbarton, though, and would not brook delay or debate. So I decided to ride in your tail. Sithee, today’s rain may have provided the only such opportunity. I dared not miss the chance.”
“You had no business doing it, even so,” Colquhoun retorted. “What if James Mòr’s men had caught you in that rig? Sakes, I cannot imagine how you got inside, let alone how you smuggled those two out again without being caught.”
“I had help, sir, not least of which came from the downpour and James Mòr himself, by insisting that your men and those others stay in the yard. None of the men watching ours could do so closely enough in such weather. But I entered that tower after Gorry informed me that James Mòr had said you would be coming on a fool’s errand if you expected him to release their ladyships.”
“I see. Do you mean to say that you would not have made the attempt had Gorry not told you that?”
Ian decided it would be wiser for once not to reply.
“I thought as much,” Colquhoun said. “Well, ye ken what I think of what ye did, and I’ll not belabor ye with my reasons. I’ll also not deny that I’m thankful that Lina and Lizzie are free. ’Tis a wonder we’ve not had Galbraith and Andrew Dubh both down on us, clamoring to hear news of them.”
“If they must go to Inch Galbraith, sir, I’ll take them.”
“A good notion, that, and one that Arthur will appreciate.”
“Likely, he’ll feel much as you do, my lord.”
Colquhoun nodded. “I do still have more to say to ye that ye’ll liefer not hear. But first, I’ll let ye change out of those wet clothes and get ready to leave.”
“With this weather, it might be better—”
“Nay, do not fling the weather at me now, lad. As it is, we’ll take supper here and ye’ll send Hak on to warn Arthur that ye’re coming. It’s ten miles from here to Balloch, and ye’ll not get away for an hour or more. Although ’tis summer, this rain does mean it will be night-dark long before usual. It may take three hours to reach Balloch if ye have to skirt the Vale of Leven, then another to Inch Galbraith. And James Mòr may already have men out in force, searching for those lassies.”
“I did cast a rub in his way, though,” Ian said. He went on to explain about the message he had left, and the missing keys to the tower chamber.
“What did the message say?”
“ ‘Prepare to leave as soon as I return.’ I signed it with a scrawled ‘D.’ ”
“D’ye ken for a fact that Dougal could have written such a thing?”
“Aye, sure, he can read and write. Pharlain did not stint his education.”
“Nor I yours, my lad,” Colquhoun retorted. He went sternly on from there.
Since Ian had never expected him to postpone a word of what he had to say, he decided when at last he escaped that he had been fortunate.
Considering his father’s options…
When Lizzie insisted that Lina bathe first, she accepted with alacrity.
Lady Colquhoun left the room when the tub was full, but her attire woman, Carsey, stayed to help. Carsey greeted their attire with a sniff of disapproval but said only that they would be glad to use her ladyship’s French soap.
“I’ve brought fresh clothing for you, my dears,” Lady Colquhoun said when she bustled back into the room shortly after Lina had stepped out of the tub.
Carsey had bundled her into a big warm towel and wrapped another around her wet hair. Lina sat now with her feet on hot bricks wrapped in layers of cloth, and Lizzie was in the tub, scrubbing away with the rose-scented soap.
“We regret putting you to so much trouble, my lady,” Lina said.
“Blethers,” her ladyship replied with a smile, handing her a clean linen shift.
Lina choked back a gurgle of laughter and glanced at Lizzie, whose lips had pressed tightly together. As their eyes met, Lizzie burst out laughing.
Unfazed by their amusement, Lady Colquhoun said, “That is one of Adam’s favorite words, and I must say it does a body good to say it now and now. You have put me to no trouble at all, my dears. I confess, though, that I am curious beyond measure. I do hope your captivity was not utterly horrifying. That is to say…”
“When she paused expectantly, Lina sobered at once and shook her head. “We were together the whole time, madam. Dougal MacPharlain did try to frighten us with threats. But he only threatened. I do think, though, that Sir Ian would liefer we not talk yet about our captivity and that his lordship would agree with him. His lordship is worried that word of our being here at Dunglass might spread.”
“Well, I am not going to tell anyone, nor will Carsey. She does not repeat anything that happens when she is with me. Come to that, she does not talk much more than a rabbit does unless I want to discuss something with her. A gey comforting companion, Carsey is.”
“She is gey kind, too, my lady,” Lizzie said, smiling at the attire woman.
Carsey was holding a towel for her. So Lizzie stepped out of the tub and quickly began drying herself.
With her ladyship’s assistance, and Carsey’s, Lina and Lizzie dressed in clothing that had belonged to Ian’s sisters. To Lina’s surprise, her ladyship also provided two pairs of soft, well-tanned breeks.
“You will be warmer tonight if you wear these,” she said. “You need not don them now. But since Colquhoun is sending you to Inch Galbraith, you will be glad to have them, because in this weather, heaven knows how long that will take. ’Tis a pity you cannot stay at Balloch Castle. The keeper there is a friend of ours.”
Lizzie said, “Then perhaps—”
“Nay, for they say that Isabella is on her way to Inchmurrin, and she might take it into her head to stop at Balloch. It would not do for her to find you there, because she would view it as her motherly duty to return you to James Mòr. Even if she did not, she would tell him that you had been there.”
Lina said, “The weather will slow us. But I cannot believe that even in a downpour like this afternoon’s, the journey could take longer than it did for us to ride from Loch Lomond to Dumbarton after Dougal captured us.”
“Aye,” Lizzie agreed. “Lina said he was making a show of force to frighten the people we saw in villages and clachans.”
“Some men do think that ordinary folk are thus easily frightened,” Lady Colquhoun said. “In troth, though, I think it is often the ordinary people who gain most of the wisdom the Fates hand out.”
“Dougal is a villain,” Lizzie said. “But he’s a devilish handsome one.”
Lady Colquhoun looked at Lina and raised her eyebrows.
Lina shook her head and turned around so her ladyship could do up the buttons on the back of the pale pink wool kirtle that she had helped her don.
“You’ll want this shawl, too, dear,” Lady Colquhoun said, draping a soft one of gray and pink wool over her shoulders. “If Colquhoun means for as few people as possible to learn of your presence here, he will order our supper served in the inner chamber. In troth, I believe we can trust our people. But Ian and Colquhoun both fear that James Mòr may have slipped a supporter or two in, even here.”
Chapter 8
Supper in the inner chambe
r passed fast enough to suit even Ian’s impatience. Since Rob and Alex knew about the afternoon’s activities, Colquhoun had invited the two men to join them but had asked them to enter from the privy stair.
“I don’t want to stir dissension amongst our other guests,” he had explained to Ian. “I’ll tell them I wanted to talk with ye, lad, because ye’ll be away for a time on another matter. Sithee, Adam will sit in for me at the high table, and I’ve agreed to meet them all after supper to discuss my meeting with James Mòr and how we might proceed with him. I ken fine that ye dinna trust the man, and with good reason. But if we can settle the matter peaceably…”
“That would suit us all, aye,” Ian said when he paused. He had no faith in such negotiating because he knew they could not trust James Mòr’s word. But since the last word would be Ian’s, he was content to let his father test his well-honed skills and let James Mòr think that Colquhoun alone was handling the matter.
At the table, the three ladies sat at one end with the four men at the other. They chatted casually while the gillies were there, trusted or not.
When the gillies left, the ladies continued talking to each other, so Ian said quietly to his father, “Do you mean to tell anyone else here about their ladyships, sir? A few may learn that they were captives, if only because men at Dumbarton will talk.”
“My hope is that folks will learn only that one of James Mòr’s men stupidly seized two female hostages and that he released them without a stir,” Colquhoun said. His gaze moved from Ian across the table to Rob and then to Alex. “I trust that all three of ye have given orders that your men are not to talk about today’s events.”
“My lads know little about them,” Alex said. “Only that you met with someone at Dumbarton, sir, and that we were to guard your back.”
Colquhoun’s gaze shifted to Rob.
“ ’Tis much the same with mine, sir. Some recognized Ian and wondered why he rode in our tail. I made it plain to them that I’d take a dim view of loose talk.”
“Good enough,” Colquhoun said, and Ian agreed. Rob was not a man to cross, and anyone who served under him knew it.
“I would like Rob and Alex to ride with me tonight, sir,” Ian said quietly. “If James Mòr has men out searching, I’d liefer—”
“Aye, sure,” Colquhoun said. “But take care that your party is not so large that its size alone causes talk. Fifteen or so should be enough, although you must take young Peter Wylie with you, as he is still here.”
“I’ll take my men,” Alex said. “Then Rob need take none. We’ll likely return tomorrow, and it might raise questions if we both go and take all of our men with us. Most of the lads here know that I take mine wherever I go.”
Ian agreed, and they soon finished their meal. Less than a half-hour later, they were on their way. The rain had eased in strength but remained steady.
Ian eyed his charges, wondering how they’d weather another journey. He had sent Dobb Colquhoun, captain of his fighting tail, and three others on with orders to see that the hilltop path east of the vale was safe. Two others rode just ahead with oil torches that even in the rain should burn long enough to see them safely to the path.
Lina rode beside Ian, and Lizzie rode next to Rob, behind them. Alex, the captain of his tail, and the rest of the men, including Peter Wylie, followed.
The wind had died, and Ian prayed that it would not revive, since any wind would lower the temperature and help the rain soak them all through again.
In the flickering torchlight, he thought that Lina looked as calm, wide awake, and dignified as usual. Lizzie looked tired and unhappily thoughtful. Recalling his earlier suspicion that she had been at fault in their capture, he signed to Rob to slow down, giving himself more room to speak privately with Lina.
Keeping his voice down, he said, “I haven’t had a chance yet to learn how you were captured, my lady. I’m wondering if perhaps Lizzie…”
She frowned, so he paused and waited, wondering if she actually distrusted him and might therefore refuse to talk to him.
Then she glanced back at the two behind them. Evidently reassured that Lizzie could not hear them, she said, “No good can come of casting blame, sir.”
“So it was her fault,” he said. “What did she do? Nay, do not frown at me. She looks worried, which is leading me to think she is not as eager to get home as one would expect her to be.”
“That is possible, aye,” she said with a sigh.
Lina knew it would be futile to refuse to tell Sir Ian how Dougal had captured them. He would be angry if she refused, and she did not want that. Her inexplicable feelings about him befuddled her enough as it was.
Accordingly, she described what had happened, omitting her feelings from the tale and trying to make Lizzie’s actions sound ordinary. But the moment she said that Lizzie had urged her pony on ahead while the three of them were riding down the Glen Fruin trail, he said grimly, “That lass wants a good skelping.”
“Well, prithee, do not tell her so,” Lina said, trying to read his expression. “Rescuing us does not give you license to scold Lizzie or me.”
Ignoring the stricture, he said, “What the devil were you thinking to be riding away from the safety of Bannachra at all? And with just one unarmed gillie?”
She opened her mouth to tell him that Peter had worn his dirk. But it felt decidedly rash to make such a statement to an armed knight who had provided an escort of seventeen other men-at-arms as protection against enemies who would also have to be daft enough to travel on such a dark, rainy night.
“Did you want to say something?” Ian asked softly. When she shook her head, he added, “I must say, I’d never have expected you to be so reckless. Not as quick as you are to condemn others for what you merely perceive as recklessness.”
Raising her chin, she wished she had not when rain ran down her neck. She wiped it off as well as she could with one gloved hand before she said, “We meant to ride only as far as the loch, sir. I told you that before.”
He did not answer. So she looked at him again and could tell that he was trying not to laugh. Doubtless he had seen her wipe the rain from her neck.
Overcoming his amusement, he said, “You also told me that there could be naught amiss in such a ride. Your capture belies that statement, does it not?”
“You are the last one who should condemn anyone else’s error, sir. Especially when it comes to recklessness. To sneak into that tower dressed in rags and carrying peat, as you did, has to be the most reckless thing anyone has done in a long while. To do it again was just daft. Had James Mòr caught you, he’d have hanged you.”
“In troth, I don’t think so,” Ian said. “He’d more likely have viewed capturing me as just such a stroke of luck for him as capturing you and Lizzie was.”
She sighed. “Mayhap you are right. But did you think about that before you acted?” Taking his silence for his answer, she nodded. “So you were reckless then. And you were even more reckless today. I don’t blame your father for being furious with you. I’d wager he was just wishing you were a mite smaller.”
“You would lose that wager,” he said. “I will admit that he said many of the same things to me that you have. But do you honestly believe that if he had thought a beating would teach me a needed lesson or change me for the better, he would not have ordered me to submit to one? If you think that, you are wrong.”
She knew she was. Even if she were right, she had overstepped civility by daring to suggest that she knew what Colquhoun had been thinking.
Just as the laird would order a man-at-arms flogged for disobeying his orders, he would punish his sons in like fashion if he believed they deserved it. Any man who understood fairness would, and Colquhoun’s principles were strong.
She knew, too, that had Colquhoun ordered punishment, Ian would have submitted. But the laird would not have punished him for so daring a rescue.
For years, she had rarely seen father and son together, because Ian had often been a
way training or fighting. But she had seen enough to know the love Colquhoun felt for his sons and the deep respect they had for him.
“He seemed almost angry enough, though,” she said.
“Do you wish I’d left you and Lizzie in that tower? Do you think he does?”
“You know I don’t,” Lina said, giving him a reproachful look. “I could not think such things. I am too grateful to be free again. Faith, I know I should not chide you, even if I had the right to do so. But you are reckless, sir, and it frightens me. Forbye, you have ignored good advice since childhood and seem to assume that you are always right and anyone who disagrees with you is wrong. Moreover, I heard enough today to guess that your father went to Dumbarton to speak for us. Why did you not trust him to treat with James Mòr?”
Ian distrusted James Mòr, not Colquhoun. Still, in the diminishing torchlight, the look Lina gave him stirred a sense of guilt, although he could not regret what he had done. Even his father was glad that he had succeeded in freeing them.
Nevertheless, she was eyeing him as if he had behaved badly.
Thanks to the six-year difference in their ages, they had never had much in common. When the MacFarlan ladies had stayed with his family, he had been more interested in Andrena than in her little sisters, because Andrena’s love of woodlands and adventure had matched his own. Also, coming from so much younger a child, Lina’s disapproval of his behavior had annoyed him even when he’d deserved it.
Looking into her eyes, finding them deeper and darker in the torchlight than they had seemed before and solemnly fixed on him… He looked away but only, he assured himself, to judge how much longer the torches would last in the rain.
The afterimage of those dusky, perceptive eyes lingered. Sakes, it burned through to his core as if to bare all he’d liefer keep hidden. She was still watching him. He could feel her gaze as if it had fingers touching him. When he could not resist looking at her again, she said, “Tell me what you are thinking.”
Feeling as if an unknown force prevented him from refusing, he said, “I do trust my father. But I knew he could not persuade James Mòr to release you before Dougal abducted you. Or did you imagine that you could prevent that?”