The Hiring Fair

by Laura Strickland

  Ruff, trembling? Annie sought Sonsie’s eyes. “Sonsie, what—? Where is my husband?”

  “Taken.” Tears accompanied the bleak word and emotion twisted Sonsie’s features.

  “What?”

  “Randleigh.” Sonsie spat the word like an epithet. “He and his men went to Kirstie’s today. Master Tam tried to help her and Jockie, but they took him into custody. Och, and hurt him so terribly—”

  Annie felt the blood drain from her face, and her stomach twisted violently. “Hurt him? How?”

  “Kirstie says they wrestled him down, pinned his hand and— Och, his poor hand…”

  “Nay!” Annie swayed where she stood, as if she felt Tam’s pain. Sonsie reached for her arm. “Where? Where have they taken him?”

  “I do no’ ken. The laird’s house? Kirstie did not know. She came running to tell me after it happened, she near drowning in tears.”

  Annie gathered up her bag and headed for the house. “Was anyone else hurt?”

  “Nay, just affrighted. Master Tam—he defended them.”

  Aye, so, and the one-handed leftover hireling had proved a lion in his defense of what Annie loved. She swayed again, her hand on the house door, facing a terrible reality. She could not—simply could not!—bear to lose him.

  “Miss?” Sonsie paused beside her. “What will you do?”

  Annie gazed into the girl’s eyes. “I will go there and speak for him, see can I win him free.”

  “But, miss, do you no’ see that is likely what Randleigh wants? He maun see this as his opportunity to…to force you.”

  “I canno’ help that.” Randleigh had taken her heart; what could she do but follow?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sonsie did not want to let Annie go to the laird’s house alone.

  “Let me come wi’ you,” she begged as Annie hurriedly changed into clean clothing and gulped down a cup of hot broth.

  Annie shook her head. The way she saw it, she’d already put Tam at risk with terrible consequences. “Stay you here, love, and keep the animals safe.”

  Working together, the girl and the woman led Old Rake from his stall and harnessed him to the cart, usually one of Jockie’s duties. The laird’s property lay a fair distance south and east, too far for Annie to walk quickly.

  “What will you do when you get there?” Sonsie asked.

  “Try and talk him free.”

  Sonsie grimaced, revealing her doubt—a full measure of which emotion already occupied Annie’s heart alongside the desperate fear. Returning and finding Tam gone had brought a few things home to her, made it impossible to deny her feelings for him. What a strange twist of fate that she should have gone to the hiring fair for the sake of those who relied on her, only to find the other half of her own heart.

  Yet as her mother always said, there were no coincidences in this life.

  “Miss?” Sonsie touched her hand. “You will be careful?”

  “I will.”

  “And—I canno’ believe I forgot to ask—were you successful wi’ the laird?”

  Annie shook her head somberly. “Nay, Sonsie.”

  “Ah, well—better luck now.”

  It could scarcely be worse.

  ****

  “Where is my husband?”

  Annie stood at the door of the parlor and delivered the query with all the force she could muster. It had been a long while since she’d visited Laird Ardaugh’s home, and she could not but think how things here had changed. The place felt bleak and cold; outside, Randleigh’s henchmen seemed very much in evidence. To her dismay, she’d been forced to leave Old Rake with one of them.

  And now she found Ned Randleigh sprawled in the laird’s armchair as if he owned the place, sitting in his shirtsleeves with the firelight leaping across his features, making him look very like Annie’s idea of a demon. Who did the man think he was?

  He did not bother to rise when Annie came in but looked up at her and smiled the kind of smile a corpse might grin after six months in the ground.

  A slow chill traced its way up Annie’s spine, and all at once she knew Sonsie was right—she’d been a fool to come here alone. Her presence had been Randleigh’s true objective.

  “Ah, Mistress MacCallum. But I err—it is Mistress Sutherland now.”

  “It is. Tell me, do you hold Tam Sutherland here? And for what reason?”

  “I do. The man attacked me, proving himself dangerous and aggressive.”

  “I do no’ believe it.”

  “Oh, you may believe it, Mistress Sutherland. Such defiance cannot be tolerated and, I assure you, will not go unpunished.”

  Annie trembled both within and without. “What have you done to him?”

  “Nothing beyond my rights—surely even you must admit I have just cause to defend myself against an unruly tenant.” Randleigh got to his feet slowly. “But he is not my tenant, is he? You are.”

  “I am Laird Ardaugh’s tenant,” Annie spat, “not yours.” All her instincts flared to life as Randleigh moved toward her. “You are but his hired agent.”

  “And as such I hold authority to act in his stead—just as if I were him. Do you ken, mistress, that in days gone by, Highland chiefs sometimes took liberties with their female tenants? I have studied on it. And you, being an educated woman, must be aware of your history.”

  “Not all lairds, certainly no’ Laird Ardaugh. Anyway, all that was a long time ago.”

  “Was it? I would not be so quick to dismiss the practice, if I were you. You have so little with which to bargain.”

  Annie met his gaze and took a decided step backward. “You are a vile and disgraceful excuse for a man, Ned Randleigh.”

  “But far better, I think, than you’ve already had—if you let that broken-down croft worker into your bed. Why, he can’t even read and write. And that hand of his—hopelessly crippled.”

  Annie’s stomach clenched violently. “I ask again, what ha’ you done to him?”

  Still ignoring the question, Randleigh took another step closer. Annie realized he had been drinking. The laird’s good Scotch, no doubt.

  “He is being held here in a strong room until the magistrate can deal with him.”

  “I mean his hand—” Annie’s throat closed.

  “He fought with me and my men and had to be subdued. It is not my fault if he was injured during that struggle.”

  “Has he been tended by a physician? Let me see him.”

  “You, Mistress Sutherland, are not a physician, though you do dabble in cures and potions, don’t you? A right risky undertaking, some might say.”

  “Potions? What are you talking about?”

  “I am aware of what you get up to in the district. You are the local wise woman—a witch.”

  Annie shied from the word, one her mother had always avoided for fear of its negative connotations.

  “Nay,” she denied.

  Randleigh feigned a thoughtful frown. “I have heard the rumors. Do the women hereabouts not flock to you for charms, predictions of the future…spells?”

  “Spells?” Annie faltered. “Nay.”

  Randleigh’s narrow lips twisted in distaste. “Tea leaf reading, I believe…” He paused. “And other magic.”

  “It is no’ magic,” Annie denied. More like faith, but she could not hope to make such a man as this understand.

  “Still”—he tipped his head in a terrible parody of consideration—“a dangerous charge, I am thinking. I quite grasp that the role of a seer is well-accepted here in the Highlands. Yet in days gone by, witches were burned at the stake.”

  Another step took him still closer; he now stood far too near for Annie’s comfort. “What you need, Mistress Sutherland, is not a half-crippled farmhand but a protector, a man who can see that all such charges fall away from you.”

  Annie sucked in a breath that scorched her throat, and her thoughts raced wildly. She stood on a quaking bog and needed to choose most carefully just where to step.

&n
bsp; “I am a married woman.”

  “Are you? True, the priest performed the rite, but you and I both know it for a mere ruse on your part. This ‘husband’ of yours can be dealt with, eliminated.”

  “How?”

  Again Randleigh smiled. “There are ways. If it can be proven he threatened my life more than once, he could hang. Or there is transportation to Australia. He would be as good as dead to you then.”

  Annie’s dismay must have shown on her face, for Randleigh continued, “Do not look so uncertain. He is unworthy of you—an ignorant peasant. You wish to protect the people of this district, do you not? To suspend the clearings and keep them in their homes? You and I might strike a bargain to benefit all.”

  Annie’s stomach turned. “A bargain,” she repeated warily.

  “Allow me to dispense with the unfortunate complication of your husband. Then you can come here to me even as I once asked and you refused. I will show mercy to the folks under Laird Ardaugh’s care.”

  And what about her, Annie? Would he show her mercy also, in his bed? She had seen how he used Kirstie, and it was the Devil’s bargain.

  “Let me think on it,” she breathed. “Meanwhile, I wish to see my husband.”

  “That is not possible.”

  She glared into his eyes. “Either I see him here and now or there will be no consideration for your offer.”

  “My generous offer.”

  Annie said nothing but somehow managed to hold his gaze.

  “Very well, I will allow you a few minutes with him, no more. But I will have your answer in three days—by the time the magistrate comes. Understand?”

  Annie nodded stiffly.

  Randleigh leaned toward her, and the smell of whisky assaulted her nostrils. “You know you could have given me your assent in the first place and saved everyone this trouble. Stupid woman.”

  ****

  Night had come again, the darkness settling down like a blanket, and Tam once more struggled to control his anger and frustration. He could see very little beyond the walls of the small room where Randleigh had confined him. He had very nearly lost track of the time, as well; he knew only that it had been far too long.

  But every so often the door opened to reveal an armed man who pushed in a small measure of food and water, not enough to keep him satisfied. He knew he must eat, though the poor fare nearly choked him. Instinct alone bade him stay alive.

  He suspected death would be easier.

  Yet he needed to stay alive, if only in hopes of seeing Annie again.

  Her essence kept him company just like the pain in his hand. His hand—much of his rage stemmed from what Randleigh had done to him, even though he knew very well the rage could not serve him now.

  He believed more than one of his fingers had broken beneath Randleigh’s heel, all the magical healing Annie had achieved undone. Hatred, hot and bright, flared in his heart. He’d once believed the factor who had caused the death of his parents the cruelest and most abhorrent man walking the earth; Ned Randleigh now supplanted him. If Tam had but a few moments with the bastard at his mercy, even his ruined hand would not keep him from meting out fit justice.

  Upon that thought he heard a sound at the door and stiffened in every limb. He’d already had his supper, such as it was. Who would be coming now? It could not be good news for him.

  Yet the door swung open to reveal a miracle.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Tam…” Annie spoke his name and distinctly felt her heart break into a hundred separate pieces. Tears flooded her eyes, and she choked them back desperately. She refused to let Ned Randleigh see her weep.

  But this man she loved—and she could no longer deny how completely she did love him—looked like a caged beast, harshly confined. Always there had been a certain hard-held, native dignity about Tam Sutherland despite his reduced circumstances and ruined hand. It had been one of the things she first noticed about him at the hiring fair.

  That dignity endured yet, aye, visible in his eyes and the set of his shoulders, but wildly eroded by desperation and pain.

  Annie tore her gaze from him and turned to the man who loomed behind her, a dark presence. “I wish to speak with him alone.”

  “That was not part of our bargain. You asked only to see him.”

  “It has now become part of our bargain, unless you wish me to dismiss the rest of your offer from my consideration.”

  Randleigh grunted but stepped back and shut the door of the prison, locking Annie inside. She clearly heard the rattle of the lock.

  The strong room, as he’d called it, must have been used as a prison before; no more than eight paces by eight, it afforded no comforts save one thin blanket and a chamber pot. A narrow window high up on the wall admitted but a breath of air and a scrap of night sky.

  She raised her eyes to Tam’s and reached for him with her hands. “Och, your face—what has he done to you?”

  “That is naught.” Tam had sprung up from the floor and now stood as if rooted, with that terrible anguish filling his eyes. He visibly fought his emotions before he said, “Annie, by God, what are you doing here? You should never ha’ come.”

  “I had to. As soon as I heard—”

  “He has no’ harmed you?”

  “Nay.” She shook her head. Not yet.

  “What did he mean about you making a bargain wi’ him? Tell me you ha’ not given that beast a hold over you.”

  Annie shook her head.

  “Promise you will not. For I ken fine what he wants from you—”

  “Hush.” Annie stepped forward into his arms, lifted her face, and kissed him, driven by the wild, tangled emotions in her heart. Each moment away from him she’d longed for this. Now, together again, she could do nothing other than follow the irresistible impulse.

  His lips responded to hers avidly, claiming and consuming. For the space of a hundred heartbeats, time suspended and all fears flew away. No need for words, no room for doubt. Then Annie drew away from him—not far—and caught his face between her hands.

  “Och, Tam, Tam—what happened?”

  “Never mind me. Did you succeed in persuading the laird? Will he set the bastard aside?”

  The tears in Annie’s eyes spilled over. “I did no’ see the laird.” All those long, difficult miles, all the things she’d planned to say, for naught.

  “He was no’ there?”

  “He was, but too ill to see me, so they said. I saw his clerk, a man named Barnes, who seems to be in charge of the household there. But no matter how I argued and persuaded, he would no’ let me see Laird Ardaugh.” Aye, she had argued—and begged. “In the end I had to satisfy myself wi’ writing another letter, which Master Barnes promised to give to him.” But she had not been satisfied—not a bit. “Tam, what happened to make Randleigh imprison you?”

  Tam took a half step back, though he kept her within the circle of his arms. “He was at Kirstie’s, hell bent on flogging Jock again—and worse. I tried to intervene. But he had men wi’ him. They pinned me down and—”

  “And, what?”

  Pain flickered in Tam’s eyes. “My hand.”

  “Your hand.” Gently and determinedly, she caught it up in both hers. Tears flooded her vision once more when she saw his fingers, crushed and swollen, surely denoting broken bones.

  “Och!” For an instant rage stole her ability to say more. She choked it back somehow. “The monster! And he’s left you like this? No care, no physician?”

  Tam set his jaw. “Nay.”

  “I need to get you awa’ out of here, clean those abrasions, set the bones if I can…” Aye, and what if the only way she could accomplish that meant agreeing to Randleigh’s demands? Was there no other hope of getting Tam free?

  His good hand tightened on her shoulder. “You ha’ no’ told me of this bargain he wants.”

  Annie dared not share that with him, not given the frustration she could see in his eyes. He just might go wild and do himself further in
jury.

  “Never mind that now. List to me, Tam—you maun stay calm as you can, marshal your strength until I can win you free.”

  “Win me free? How? He means to stand me before the magistrate, who will surely take his part. You know how it is for the likes o’ me.”

  “You need to claim self-defense.”

  “’Twill no’ matter what I claim. The magistrate will be in Laird Ardaugh’s pocket, and thus Randleigh’s.”

  “I am no’ so sure the laird knows what Randleigh has been getting up to.”

  “But you wrote to him—”

  “Aye, but I do not know that he read my first letter or will read this one I just wrote. Randleigh says the magistrate will no’ be available to hear your case for three days. I will make sure and be there when Randleigh stands you before him. Meanwhile I will do all I can to get a physician sent in—or persuade him to let me back in to tend you.”

  “How do you mean to persuade him?” Even in the poor light Annie could see the bleak devastation in Tam’s gray eyes. “I ken fine what he wants from you. Annie, you are not to agree, not for any cause.”

  “Let me worry about that.”

  “Nay—you listen to me, now. I will no’ have you even consider it! Bad enough what he has already done to me. But for me to be unable to protect you—” His throat worked violently. “I was unable to protect those dear to me once before. I will no’ let it happen again.”

  Those dear to him? Did he include her, Annie, in that number? Yet he’d never told her he loved her, even though, aye, she fancied she’d felt it in the tenderness of his touch, the warmth of his kiss.

  All her words stolen, she said nothing, and he hurried on. “Annie lass, I ken fine how you are—far too apt to sacrifice yourself for others. I will no’ have you endanger yoursel’ for me. I am no’ worth it.”

  Her lips trembled. “You are.”

  “Nay.” He shook his head violently. “I am no one of consequence. You, though, have a full life and many people depending on you.”

  “But,” Annie said helplessly, “I depend on you.” Until she spoke the words she did not realize just how true they were. More softly she added, “So I have come to do, ever since that first day I laid eyes on you.”