The Thorn & the Thistle

by Julie Moffett

  Megan walked over to the window and pulled aside the drapes, staring out into the courtyard. The dusk of evening had already crept across the landscape, shrouding the trees and shrubs in gray shadows. “Well, ’tis awful.”

  Rolf sighed, walking over to her and massaging her shoulders. “I know it has been difficult. But perhaps it will cheer you to know that the rest of your clansmen have been released, including your uncle and Robbie. Perhaps one of them will soon bring word from your father.”

  Megan turned to face him, her expression serious. Something had happened, something that had made him angry. She only prayed it wouldn’t affect what was soon to come.

  “Thank ye. I know ye could punish them for possessing weapons and wearing their plaids. ’Tis great restraint ye showed. I wanted ye to know how much it means to me.”

  Rolf placed his forefinger under her chin, caressing it. “I know. I did it for us, Megan. But I won’t lie to you. If your father rejects any more of my attempts at compromise, I’ll have to employ force to end this standoff.”

  “He’ll cooperate. This time I am certain o’ it.”

  “I hope you are right.” Rolf drew her to him and held her to his chest. “Damn it all to hell and back, I wish this detestable business was finished. Every day that passes only causes you more pain. Why must it be me who always brings it to you?”

  Megan’s throat constricted at the tenderness of his embrace. “I don’t blame ye. ’Tis simply our fate.”

  “Well, I’m going to change things. I promise you that. I’m not going to repeat the same mistakes I made with Caroline.”

  “Ye are a good man. But it isn’t wise to make promises that ye may no’ be able to keep.” A sob caught in her throat.

  Frowning, Rolf pulled away. “What’s wrong, Megan?”

  “I cannot tell ye.”

  Rolf took her by the shoulder, propelling her to a chair and sitting her down in it. Kneeling in front of her, he took firm hold of her hand.

  “Talk to me. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

  She shook her head. “Ye wouldn’t understand. Naught is wrong and yet, everything is.”

  “How can I help if you won’t talk to me?”

  “I’m no’ the woman ye think I am. Ye deserve someone better.”

  Rolf gazed at her in amazement before laughing. “Forgive me, Megan. It’s just that no woman has ever said such a thing to me. Most women would be satisfied with my fortune or titles. But you are the only one who has ever been concerned about my heart.”

  “I oft wish things could be different between us.”

  Rolf’s expression softened. “I know our problems seem difficult, even insurmountable. But I promise you that when all of this is finished, we’ll start over. We can still make it work, Megan. I know we can.”

  “Ye know so little about me.”

  “I don’t need to know more.”

  “Och, but I’m afraid ye do, Englishman.”

  A surprised look of hurt flashed in Rolf’s eyes. “We’re back to ’Englishman’ now, are we? What happened to that passionate woman who shared my bed last night and called me by my Christian name?”

  “She existed only for the night. ’Tis all she ever had.”

  Before he could reply, a sharp knock sounded on the door. Dismayed by the interruption, Rolf jerked his head toward the sound. “Who is it?”

  “Peter, my lord. The man who calls himself Geddes Kincaid has returned. He says he brings word from the Wolf.”

  Rolf glanced at Megan, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll finish this conversation later. I intend to find out what is bothering you.”

  Something flickered in her blue eyes. “Ye are wrong to care so much about me. ’Tis almost the end for us.”

  Rolf shook his head. “You’re wrong. It’s only the beginning. Now think about that while I hear what your uncle has to say.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Rolf threw open the door to their bedchamber. “You knew your father would choose you to be his proxy.”

  Megan rose from the chair, pulling her white woolen robe tighter around her shoulders. Her dark hair hung loose to her waist in a thick heavy curtain of black silk. Rolf thought she looked like an angel of the night amid the dim and flickering light of the fire. It only heightened his anger that she looked so soft and innocent.

  “Aye, I knew.”

  Slamming the door behind him, Rolf towered above her. “Hell and damnation. How did you know that?”

  “My da trusts me and my negotiating skills. I knew he would choose me to work wi’ ye regarding the pardons and land grants. But I also knew ye had to hear it from him before ye would believe it.”

  He frowned. “There’s something more you aren’t telling me.”

  “Mayhap.”

  Rolf’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know what I’m beginning to think? I think that there is no such person as the Wolf.”

  She paled at his words, but lifted her chin. “Don’t be absurd. Do ye think ye fight a ghost?”

  “I don’t know who I’m fighting, but I’m beginning to believe that your father is not the man he has been made out to be. How else can I explain his cowardly actions?”

  “The Wolf is no coward. Did he no’ promise to turn himself o’er to ye once the land grants and pardons are distributed?”

  “I no longer believe in his promises.”

  Megan reached out and took Rolf’s hand into her own. “Then believe in me. I give ye my word that the Wolf will reveal himself as soon as we are finished with the business at hand.”

  Rolf raised an eyebrow. “How curious, Megan. You want me to trust you, but you won’t trust your own husband to have your best interests at heart. Is that not a lot to expect of me?”

  “I know ’tis a great leap o’ faith. But please, I beg ye to take it. For me.”

  Moving away from her, he walked about the room, his hands clasped behind his back. He couldn’t decide if he were angry or impressed by her father’s decision to choose her as his proxy.

  “You’ve asked for a leap of faith, Megan, and I’m willing to grant it to you. But only if you agree to trust me. I don’t want any more lies between us.”

  She gazed at him. “I promise ye, Rolf St. James, that after this business is finished and the Black Wolf has turned himself in, there will be no more deception or lies between us. I give ye my word as both your wife and as a MacLeod.”

  Rolf weighed the sincerity of her promise and wondered if his feelings for her had clouded his judgment. If it were so, he could no more change them than he could change himself.

  “I’ll accept you as your father’s proxy. I’d like to put an end to this as quickly as possible.”

  Relief flooded her face. “Then let’s start tonight.”

  “Tonight?” He raised a dark eyebrow. “The hour is late.”

  “I’ll no’ be able to sleep knowing peace is within our grasp. Please, Rolf, let us begin now.”

  He sighed. “All right, I’ll go to the library and bring up the papers.”

  She touched his cheek. “Thank ye. Ye don’t know how much this means to me.”

  * * *

  Edwin Farrington was angry. In fact, he couldn’t remember when he’d been so furious. He wanted to punish someone for the injustice that had been done to his person. He needed to vent his rage and he knew exactly how he would do it.

  Scowling, he bent low over his horse. There was no moonlight, but the small covered lantern he dangled in his hand shed just enough light to see the path. He glanced over his shoulder, urging the handful of men that accompanied him to make haste. His excitement heightened as he saw the faint glow of several small campfires in the near distance.

  “Onward.” He dug his heels into the side of his horse.
He and his men thundered into the first cluster of village huts that lay less than two miles from his estate. Edwin pulled back hard on the reins, ordering his men to stop. The villagers came running out of their huts in surprise, regrouping when they saw him. Several men formed a protective circle in front of the women and children who stood huddled wide-eyed and frightened in the doorways. Two of the village men stepped forward, one of them holding a pitchfork in his hand. Edwin eyed them disdainfully from his perch on his horse.

  The villager holding the pitchfork spoke. “What do ye want o’ us at this hour?”

  Edwin slid off his horse and motioned for a few of his men to follow suit. He set his lantern aside and approached the man.

  “I’ve come at this hour because I’ve decided to evict you. Leave at once.”

  There were gasps of surprise and shock. Several of the women clutched the children closer, pulling woolen wraps tighter around their shoulders.

  “We aren’t going anywhere,” a villager shouted. “Ye canna make us. Ye are no’ our landlord anymore.”

  Edwin stepped forward. “I’ll do whatever I please. And I assure you that I can make you do what I want...unless you do something to appease me.”

  The villagers fell silent until one man stepped forward from the back of the crowd, coming to stand beside the man with the pitchfork. “What is it you want from us?”

  Edwin studied the man with interest. The villager was an older man with a heavy red beard tinged with gray. He was dressed as commonly as the others, but had an air of authority about him that made Edwin uneasy.

  “Who are you?” Edwin asked, frowning.

  “Geddes Kincaid.”

  The name meant nothing to Edwin, but the fact that this large man spoke to him in such a non-deferential manner infuriated him.

  “I would suggest, old man, that you step aside. You can’t help here.”

  The Scotsman did not move. “I beg to differ. Mayhap I can assist ye. There is no need for anyone to be harmed.”

  Edwin’s mouth dropped open in astonished shock. How dare the old man speak to him in such a manner.

  “I can’t believe your impertinence. Get out of my way.”

  “No’ until ye tell me what ye want from us.”

  “I want you to obey my orders or someone will get hurt.” As if on cue, one of Edwin’s men darted forward and grabbed a young boy standing by the fire, dragging him back to where Edwin stood.

  The young boy yelped in surprise, flailing his arms and trying to free himself from the hold. Geddes and several of the villagers leapt forward to intervene, but Edwin drew his pistol and pointed it at Geddes’s chest.

  “If anyone moves, I’ll shoot him.”

  The villagers froze in place and the young boy fell silent, trembling in fright.

  Lifting his hands, Geddes spoke. “Easy. Let the lad go.”

  Edwin laughed. “Easy? You dare to tell me how to behave? You pitiable old man. Have you such a strong wish to die?”

  Geddes stepped forward until the pistol touched his chest. “Ye are no’ going to hurt us any longer, Farrington. Shoot me, if ye may. But be warned that I’m no’ just any villager. I’m kin to Rolf St. James’ wife. If ye shoot me or the boy, he will seek retribution. I promise ye that.”

  There was a murmur of surprise from Edwin’s men. His anger heightened a notch.

  “You are kin to the low-bred MacLeod strumpet?”

  Geddes crossed his arms against his chest, refusing to move. Several of the village men stepped up, forming a solid line beside him. They were unarmed, but their faces were determined and strangely unafraid. Edwin felt the first twitch of panic.

  “Get back, I say.” He waved the pistol. “I’ll shoot this man, I swear I will.”

  The young boy suddenly wrenched himself free from Edwin’s man with a frightened squeal. The sound of tearing cloth filled the air as the boy left his shirt behind in the hands of his stunned captor. As he darted into the crowd, several of the Scotsmen stepped in front of him to form a protective barrier.

  Furious, one of Edwin’s men swung the flat part of his sword sending one of the villagers sprawling to the ground, screaming in pain.

  A bellow of rage sounded as the villagers rushed forward. The old Scotsman swung his fist, aiming for the pistol in Edwin’s hand. Just as the Scotsman’s hand made contact with the metal, Edwin fired. The Scotsman swayed on his feet in shocked surprise and then crumpled to the ground.

  Edwin scrambled for his horse, swinging up into the saddle. “Retreat.” He pulled back on the reins while kicking savagely at one of the village women as she tried to set his breeches on fire with a burning torch. He laughed as she shrieked in pain.

  Bringing the reins down against his horse’s neck, he shot forward. Riding from the village, he glanced backward and saw that chaos had broken loose.

  Throwing his head back, he laughed, feeling a sudden rush of satisfaction. He had killed the marriage kin of the despicable Rolf St. James. That would teach him to think twice before crossing Edwin Farrington again.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The sound of running footsteps down the stone corridor of the castle jolted Megan from a deep sleep. Rolf had already leapt out of the bed and was thrusting his bare legs into breeches by the time she sat up.

  “What is it?” She searched the bedcovers for her robe.

  “I don’t know.” He snatched his shirt from the back of the chair. “Stay here and bolt the door behind me.”

  He grabbed his sword and headed for the door just as someone pounded on it. Rolf lifted the latch with the tip of his sword and kicked open the door, holding his sword out in front of him.

  Andrew gave a frightened squeal, jumping back to avoid the deadly blade. “My lord.”

  “That will teach you to identify yourself before you pound on my door.” Rolf pulled the shirt over his head with one hand. “Now would you care to tell me what the devil is going on?”

  “It’s the villagers, my lord. They’ve risen up and are making their way to Farrington’s estate. Word is that they are going to bum it to the ground. Farrington rode into the village completely sotted, demanding the people leave. A few of our men were there and witnessed the entire spectacle. One of the villagers stood up against them. He was shot.” Andrew swallowed hard, his glance moving from Megan to Rolf. “It was her uncle, my lord.”

  “My uncle?” The color drained from her face. “Geddes?”

  When Andrew nodded, Rolf swore under his breath. “The damned idiot. He’s gone too far this time.”

  Expression darkening, he grabbed his boots, thrusting his feet into them. “Have my horse readied and see that at least thirty of the men are saddled. Then return here and make certain that my wife remains under your protection.”

  Megan rose from the bed, her face drawn but angry. “No’ this time. I am going wi’ ye.”

  “Don’t be foolish. It’s far too dangerous for you to accompany me. I promise I will deal with Farrington properly this time.”

  “My uncle needs help. He is injured.”

  Andrew cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, my lady. Your uncle...I’m afraid he... well, you see...oh, curse, it, there is no easy way to say it. Farrington shot him dead.” The young man looked down at his boots.

  Megan stilled. “D-dead?”

  Exhaling a deep breath, Rolf strode across the room, gathering her in his arms. “Oh, Megan, I’m sorry.”

  She buried her head in his chest, her shoulders starting to shake. “Oh, God, no’ Uncle Geddes.”

  Rolf tightened his embrace. “I’m not going to let Farrington get away with this, Megan. I promise you that he will be justly punished.”

  She lifted her head from his chest, a deepseated grief etched on her face. “It’s too late.”

 
Rolf cupped her cheek. “I won’t kill him in cold blood, but I’ll see that he stands trial, Megan. Some of my men witnessed the murder. This time he won’t get away with it.”

  She shook her head. “Nay, ye don’t understand. ’Tis no’ ye I fear will kill him. ’Tis Robbie. He’ll kill Farrington for this. Or die trying.”

  Rolf frowned. “If your cousin kills Farrington, he’ll face a sentence of death for the murder.”

  Megan’s eyes clouded with worry. “He won’t care. ’Twill be too much for him to bear. We must stop him.”

  “I must stop him.”

  “I’m going wi’ ye to Farrington’s.”

  “You aren’t going anywhere. You will remain here.”

  Megan slipped from his embrace and picked up her blue gown from where it lay over the back of a chair. “Ye won’t be able to stop him, Rolf. He won’t listen to ye.”

  “I’ll make him listen.”

  “Ye can’t, Rolf, and ye know it. But he might listen to me. Now don’t argue any more wi’ me about this. I’m coming wi’ ye.”

  Rolf growled in frustration. “I don’t like this, Megan.”

  She turned to face him, her eyes weary and grieved but determined. “I’ve lost my brother and now my uncle. I’m no’ going to lose my cousin too. I just couldn’t bear it. Now if Andrew would give me a moment o’ privacy, I will put on my garments and we can leave at once.”

  Rolf gritted his teeth in frustration and then jerked his head at Andrew. “Leave us.”

  The boy withdrew. Rolf strode over to Megan, laying his hand on her shoulder. “You can accompany me, Megan, but on one condition. You must stay close to me and do exactly what I tell you, regardless of what you want.”

  She hesitated for a moment and then nodded, her dark hair tumbling about her shoulders. “Agreed.”

  Megan rode double with Rolf, her arms wrapped around his waist. The night was cold and she shivered beneath her cloak.

  “Take several of the men to the village and secure it,” Rolf ordered Peter over the galloping of the horses. “I want to make certain Farrington and his men don’t try to double back and burn the entire place down. I’ll take the rest on to Farrington’s estate.”