Dreamer (Highland Treasure Trilogy)

by McGoldrick, May

  The dowager stared down at their joined hands. “I do not know, Catherine! ‘Tis all so...so frightening!”

  Catherine waited until the older woman’s gaze lifted to her face, and when she spoke, her voice was steady.

  “Lady Anne, the only chance we have of shaping a better world is by knowing the past. This is what I believe and what I teach. Adam and John must know their past, as well, before they can fashion their future.”

  CHAPTER 20

  “She’s left the dowager countess’s chambers, m’lord.”

  “Aye?” Athol said, glancing up quickly from the letter that had just arrived from court. Once again, a small company of English forces had moved north, taking a position in the disputed Scottish borderlands. There was other news, as well. “Where is she now?”

  A moment later, dismissing the clan councilors who were hovering nearby and waving off Tosh, the laird moved out of the Great Hall and through the courtyard toward the gardens. The sun was warm on his face, but the clouds to the west foretold of stormy weather ahead. A wave from the warrior by the gate indicated that Catherine had just passed through the archway.

  Without her being aware of it, he’d had his men bringing him news of every move she’d made this morning. He’d wanted to steal a moment alone with her before leaving again, and now he hurried after her. The gardens would give him the perfect opportunity.

  He wanted to see her before leaving, but there was something else, as well. He’d seen the bruise marks on her wrists this morning, and he wanted to ask her about it. With her news of the bairn, she’d knocked the thought from his head, but he still wanted to know why the marks on her wrists looked as though her hands had been tied.

  Already well accustomed to the stubborn nature of his wife, John Stewart knew that his only hope of finding an answer to this question lay in asking her directly. He’d never be able to force it out of her.

  A number of kitchen workers were gathering herbs at the far end of the garden, and beyond them Athol could see two lads from the village driving a half-dozen cows up from the glen. Catherine was nowhere in sight, however.

  Moving toward a small stand of pines beyond the gardens, Athol caught a glimpse of her, and stopped as Susan stepped from beneath a pear tree and greeted Catherine with a hug. The warm embrace that the two women gave each other pleased John at first, but his smile quickly turned to a frown as suspicion cut sharply into his brain.

  Since when had the two women become friends? he wondered. And why should they be? Frowning at them, he suddenly wondered what he should do with Susan now that he’d taken Catherine as his wife. With Catherine as the Countess Balvenie, Susan would certainly not be needed as mistress of the castle.

  Since he was the earl and also Susan’s cousin, he mused, his appropriate action would probably be to arrange a good marriage for her. And that he would do, he decided, but not until he and his high-spirited wife were a wee bit more settled. And he would certainly not be able to give the plan the time it deserved until his business with Adam of the Glen was finished...for good.

  Unseen, Athol watched as the two women--who appeared to be talking very seriously about a small wooden box Catherine was carrying--moved down the slope into the far end of the gardens. A breeze was blowing and Catherine’s hair, loosely braided down her back, shone in the bright sunlight. How different these two women were, he thought, wondering how he’d ever thought them in any way similar. Perhaps it was a good thing that Catherine would have Susan as a companion.

  But then, as he began to think on this new friendship, he suddenly remembered his own impending departure and his desire to see and talk to Catherine before he left.

  As he stepped into the garden, Susan was the first to spot him and announced his arrival to Catherine. The look of sheer pleasure that shone in his wife’s face as she turned toward him was a reward well worth waiting for.

  Joining the two women, Athol took one of Catherine’s hands tightly in his own and gathered her into a tight embrace with an affectionate growl.

  “Well, Susan. I--” he stopped, realizing as he released Catherine that Susan was already well on her way to Balvenie’s gates. “Did I interrupt some master planning session?”

  He did not wait for an answer, though, and trapped her full lips beneath his own. It was still incredible to him how sweet she tasted...and how easily he found himself distracted at her nearness and by her loving response to him.

  Stepping over to a low, turf-covered bench, Athol took the small wooden chest out of Catherine’s hand and put it down. Sitting down, he drew her onto in his lap and laid a hand protectively on her stomach.

  “Tell me, countess. Have I told you today how happy I am about the news of your bairn?”

  Her cheeks turned red with the prettiest blush. She looked up and he felt the magic of her midnight blue eyes slide like velvet over his soul.

  “Nay, m’lord earl, you said very little this morning. But ‘twas not very difficult to read your mind.”

  “Read my mind?” He frowned playfully. “I wonder if ‘tis a good thing for a lass as unruly as you to be running about with that kind of power in your possession.”

  “You claim to read my mind, so what is wrong with my reading yours?”

  He ran his thumb over her soft cheek. “Well, for one thing, most everything what you think or feel eventually finds its way to your lips, anyway. But with me...”

  “I know.”

  She placed her hand firmly on his heart in the same protective way that he had laid his hand on her belly. He wondered if she could feel the pounding of that heart.

  “You, John, like to keep your feelings hidden deep in your heart. You think ‘tis a weakness to say the things that you feel--a mistake to let others glimpse the truth of who you are.” She smiled at him. “Unless ‘tis your temper that takes charge.”

  “But then,” he replied quietly, “you have your own way of dealing with that.”

  She sighed softly and leaned against his chest. “A woman has to find a way to survive.”

  He found himself pulling her even more tightly against his chest. The peace he felt at this moment, the perfection of the fit between them--together like this--he could not imagine a greater, more glorious moment in life.

  He shook off the feeling. “I have to leave Balvenie for a short time, lass. But when I...”

  “Where?” Catherine pulled back and looked with concern into his face.

  He grinned at her. “I’ve been coming and going from the first day we wed, and this is the first time you’ve asked.”

  A pretty frown darkened her brow. “‘Tis more than just for me that I ask. Our bairn would like to know.”

  “Liar!” He laughed and kissed her on the bridge of the nose. He knew that she had given him her heart, but still she withheld her trust. That was why she had not told him the complete truth of what occurred last night. But who had he to blame but himself for that, he thought. Nay, when it came to trust, he would have to set the precedent. Well, from now on, he would tell her everything.

  “I am taking a few men to the earl of Huntly’s castle. ‘Tis less than a half day’s ride to the east. I received word this morning that the earl has arrived there.”

  “So you’re not going to hunt Adam?”

  “Nay, Catherine. Not exactly.” Athol gazed out across the glen thoughtfully. “Though we have not ridden into Huntly’s lands in search of Adam. All his trails have seemed to lead us in other directions.”

  He considered the possibility for a moment. It was possible that his bastard brother had been hiding in the hills between here and Huntly Castle all this time. It was one place they had not looked. And if that were true, what his mother had told him--about knowing Adam and about Adam knowing these lands--would make perfect sense.

  “John, if you are not going in search of Adam, why must you go?”

  “Huntly has sent me news from Stirling, but I have another reason for going now. I think the earl may have some answers f
or me.”

  “Answers?”

  “Aye! Answers to everything. From the identity of the woman who was my father’s mistress, to where Adam has been up to now. He may even know the reason for Adam’s decision to wreak havoc on my lands. But I won’t learn anything sitting here, my dove. So--”

  Catherine was not ready to let him up.

  “Perhaps, once you learn his motives--learn what it was that set him off on such a dangerous path--perhaps then you can negotiate a peace with him.”

  “There will be no negotiating with this devil. The only peace either of us will know will be when his head is sitting atop a pike above Balvenie’s gates.”

  Catherine’s sudden shudder made him regret his harsh words. Despite all her courage, she was still an expectant mother. She deserved a wee bit more gentleness.

  “I worry about you,” she whispered softly. “About this whole business of two brothers who can hate without knowing one another.”

  “I do not hate him, lass, but he’s brought the fight to my door, and he must pay for the harm he’s done.”

  “Aye, John, but just think of it! If things were different, if you two were not at odds, think how pleasurable it could be to have a brother. You and he share your father’s blood!”

  He turned his gaze from Catherine’s face to hide his own emotions. It was difficult to admit that she spoke the truth. In reality, he knew that if he truly set his mind to it, he could catch Adam of the Glen. Instead though, since learning of their kinship through his mother, he’d chosen to chase after answers--to try to discover the reasons behind his bastard brother’s actions.

  Catherine’s soft touch on his chin brought his gaze back to her face. Her eyes swam with unshed tears. “I want you to come back safely to me. And while you are away--if you find the answers that you are seeking--then I only ask that you not act in haste.”

  “If I did not know my wife better, I’d say you were worried about Adam of the Glen.”

  “My loyalty lies where my heart is...and that is with you.” She placed both hands on his shoulders and gazed into his eyes. “And I want you to have no regret--years from now--over something you might do in haste this day.”

  “Adam deserves the punishment that awaits him.”

  “Perhaps that is so, John. But ‘twas because of your father’s wrongdoing that Adam was born in the first place. You should know that his faithlessness hurt your mother deeply. And yet, so many years later, ‘tis your mother who feels guilty for not accepting and raising Adam as her own. She is convinced that is because of her actions that you two are now at each other’s throat.”

  “That’s nonsense. ‘Tis--”

  “You are her son as much your father’s.” Catherine’s feathery touch caressed his face. “I love you so much. I do not want to see you suffer for the rash act of an angry moment.”

  She brushed her lips on his chin, across his lips and then looked into his face.

  “I believe in you, John Stewart, and I know you will do the right thing. Just hurry and come back to us, since your bairn and I both will be needing you.”

  *****

  Trying to calm herself, Catherine shifted the small chest from beneath one arm to the other and stepped into the Great Hall. Susan was not there, either.

  John would be just fine, she kept reminding herself. After all, this was his land. These were his people. He was traveling with his own men--men armed and sworn to serve and protect him.

  But by the Virgin, she worried, gnawing her lip, why couldn’t he have taken more of his warriors with him...as he had been doing? Why had he left Tosh behind?

  Trying to recall how many of Adam’s men she had seen in the encampment, Catherine couldn’t help but worry about what would ever happen if Adam were to set a trap for Athol. She would remember to her dying day the look of hatred she’d seen in Adam’s eyes.

  She should have gone with him! Perhaps with her there, the other man...

  Catherine shook her head. She was losing her mind. The earl of Athol had managed to survive many battles without her. He would come back. He had to.

  “Mistress Catherine.”

  She jumped at the sound of the monk’s voice in her ear. Turning sharply to Brother Bartholomew, she gave him her darkest scowl. “Now I know you’re pleased with yourself, Brother, over your time with the bishop at Elgin, but I see no reason for you to be scaring me half to death.”

  “I do beg your forgiveness, mistress, but...aye, what a lovely man Bishop Patrick is!”

  “Humph!” Catherine said, keeping an eye open for Susan. “I wouldn’t know.”

  “M’lady, I know I haven’t had a chance to speak to you privately since my return, but you’ve been scurrying here, and scurrying there.”

  “Humph!” she said again with a frown.

  “But we’re so happy to find you here.”

  Catherine looked at him as he gestured to the other two monks sitting at a table on the far side of the Great Hall.

  “Very well, Brother,” she responded thoughtfully, starting across the Hall. “Perhaps now would be a good time to talk.”

  Sitting at the table with the three clerics, Catherine clutched the wooden chest in her lap and listened to Bartholomew tell what the bishop had agreed to supply. When he was finished, she in turn informed them of the earl’s position on the school and of all the other details that she had finalized so far with him.

  When she was finished, Catherine turned to the monks and waited for any questions they might have. All three appeared quite content with her news.

  “Very well!” she said, standing up and glancing down at the wooden chest in her hands. “I may just recommend to my husband that we hold discussions in the Great Hall. It certainly makes for productive use of time.”

  “You have something else on your mind, I take it?” Brother Bartholomew asked. Something we can be of assistance with?”

  Catherine purposely hesitated, then nodded to Brother Bartholomew’s question. “Aye, you can. I was looking for Mistress Susan.” She scanned the faces of some folk just entering the Great Hall. “But now that you ask, I wonder if one of you sweet men might take this chest to my chamber. I’m getting a bit tired of carrying it to and fro.”

  She turned to the monks and found three sets of eyes staring at the ornate box which she held before her.

  “Remembering your pranks of years past, mistress.” Brother Paul grinned. “I have learned never to take anything from your hand that might contain some species of vermin or a viper.”

  Catherine feigned a look of shock and turned to Brother Egbert. “You have certainly never been afraid of my tricks, good brother. So if you would be kind enough to take it.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “‘Tis a keepsake newly arrived from my mother.”

  “I’ll be more than happy to take it, mistress.” Brother Bartholomew broke in.

  Catherine turned and looked attentively at portly monk. “That is quite thoughtful of you. You realize that the safekeeping of this chest is something I would not entrust to just anyone.”

  The monk nodded solemnly and took the chest out of Catherine’s hands.

  “The safekeeping of all you hold dear is a task I take to heart, mistress.”

  *****

  Safely ensconced in Susan’s bedchamber, Catherine gazed at her companion’s ashen face and almost regretted revealing the truth of where Athol had gone.

  Moving to where Susan sat somberly on the side of the bed, Catherine took her hands. “But why are you so upset about this news? What is it that you know? Tell me, Susan.”

  The younger woman’s misty gaze lifted and caught Catherine’s. “That’s where Adam has gone, as well. Before we left last night, he told me that, after moving his camp, he was going to ride east--to await the arrival of the earl of Huntly.”

  Catherine felt the knot form in her belly, and suddenly a wave of nausea washed over her. Even as she fought down the bile rising in her throat, she knew the sickness had nothing to do w
ith the child that she was carrying, but rather the possible danger awaiting the father. Standing and crossing to the window, she pulled open the shutters and breathed in a chest full of air.

  This was exactly what she feared. She would never forgive herself if John were hurt.

  A moment later, she felt Susan’s gentle touch on her shoulder. “We are more helpless in this than we thought.”

  Catherine turned around and faced her. The trembling lips told her of her new friend’s fear. She herself would need to be strong, Catherine reminded herself. The same way that she’d been strong with her sisters through the ordeal of her father’s death and the absence of their mother.

  “Nay, Susan,” Catherine announced at last. “We do not have to be helpless. We’re assuming the worst will happen...and without cause. They may not even encounter one another between here and Huntly Castle. And if all goes well and both of them return unharmed from this trip, then we will have a second chance to set things right. But we must be prepared.”

  The younger woman twisted her hands together in a nervous gesture and nodded her agreement. “I suppose you’re right.

  “Aye. That’s the spirit. First, we must consider what we know.”

  “About their pasts, you mean?”

  “Aye.” Feeling a bit better and more in control, Catherine walked back to the middle of the room. “We know they were sired by the same father. Lady Anne said as much to Athol.”

  “True. Adam has said so many times.”

  Catherine turned to Susan. “Do you know how Adam came to learn the truth? Did he ever say that? Did he always know it?”

  “From what he told me, he knew nothing about being a Stewart until the age of fifteen, when he was sent to London and held prisoner when the Treaty of Bruges was signed.”

  Catherine couldn’t keep the note of surprise out of her voice. “But that treaty ended the war with France...the war between England and France! Why should he be sent to prison?”