Dreamer (Highland Treasure Trilogy)

by McGoldrick, May

Susan’s face was grim. “Because he was...he is...of Stewart blood.”

  “I do not understand why...”

  “Because Scotland and France have always been allied against the English. Thirteen years ago, when the treaty was signed, a number of men--all kin to the king--were gathered and shipped to England to be kept in prisons as surety against the articles of the peace. So they came after him. ‘Twas only then that he was told he was the son of the earl of Athol and half-brother to the earl’s heir.”

  “How could neither brother have known?”

  Susan shook her head. “Since he was a bairn, Adam was raised as a member of the earl of Huntly’s household. He was never told who his true parents were, but was treated well and given the same education as any noble blooded lad. The earl of Huntly treated him like his own kin, and Adam told me that for many years, he simply assumed he was the bastard son of the earl, himself.”

  “And he was taken at the age of fifteen!” Catherine began pacing the room. “What happened to him then?”

  “He was held in the Tower of London for twelve years--treated with less dignity than the river rats that swarmed in each night. He told me that during all those years the only thing that kept him alive was the thought of returning to Scotland and taking revenge on the man who had put him there. The legitimate son of John Stewart! The brother that he’d learned to hate.”

  Catherine shook her head. “But that cannot be. Athol never knew about Adam’s existence until only days before we wed. There was no way he could be held responsible for sending him there. And I am certain he knows none of this even now. Nothing of where Adam has been or the reason for his hatred!”

  Susan sat heavily on the side of the bed. “I know. But I have had no way of telling Adam’s side of things. And what could I have said to Adam about the earl? What could I have said in his defense that Adam would have believed?”

  “But about this treaty?” Catherine pressed. “Adam believes that John had some influence in it? But how could he? He was a young man himself then!”

  “Adam told me that one of those he was imprisoned with had told him that John Stewart had given him up.” She looked grimly at Catherine. “John Stewart.”

  “Aye, but thirteen years ago...wasn’t the father still alive then? He was John Stewart, as well.”

  “Your husband was the one who stood to gain by such a decision.”

  “Aye, but ‘twas a decision he knew nothing about,” Catherine cut in. “Think on it. What choice did the old earl have? Someone had to go! He had to send a son. As other Stewarts did. How many of them would send their firstborn?”

  Susan’s words were so soft, but so full of pain, that Catherine could feel her own heart ache for the woman. “So he picked his elder son to stay.”

  “And his second son to go.” Seeing the tears beginning to trickle down Susan’s face, Catherine crouched before the younger woman. “‘Tis very sad, Susan.”

  “Adam will hurt all the more to learn of this! To think that his mother rejected him, deserted him. That his father, too...that his own father chose to send him off--” The tears choked off Susan’s words. “Who has not rejected him? Betrayed him?”

  Catherine sat beside her, holding her as the young woman sobbed out her sadness for the man she loved. When the shuddering subsided, Catherine wiped the tears from Susan’s face.

  “Maybe ‘tis better this way. Those who are gone are to be blamed. He must make peace with the kin he has left.”

  Susan shook her head. “He will not believe what we say. He is so full of hatred for Athol that--”

  “Perhaps we can prove to him what we know to be true. Through the earl of Huntly... perhaps even through the documents that signed him over. I am certain there must be a way to make him understand.”

  “‘Tis just that he has spent all of his life without love.”

  “But no longer, Susan. He has you now. And if we can help him through to the truth, he might have a brother in John, as well. And a sister in me.”

  The young woman nodded, but Catherine knew that she was not still convinced. And who could blame her? To make Adam simply forget the past seemed to be as great a challenge as having Athol ignore the destruction the other man had brought to his people and his lands.

  A tremendous undertaking for all of them.

  In an attempt to shake off the gloom that was settling on them, Catherine placed a gentle hand on Susan’s shoulder and looked into her face. “Tell me how you two met.”

  Susan blushed and stared down at her hands. “My journey to Balvenie happened to coincide with Adam’s arrival in Scotland. My party was attacked and some of the warriors escorting me fled in the melee.” A faint smile broke out on the young woman’s lips. “I was left nearly alone to ward off Adam and his men.”

  “It must have been terrifying for you!”

  “Aye. ‘Twas a wild scene! I’d never seen such a thing. I am the youngest of eight in my family, Catherine. This trip was my first venture into the world. I put up a great show of courage, though, I think. I believe...my actions...well, amused Adam. They talked of cutting throats, since we carried very little of value. And I didn’t care for the way some of the men looked at me. But then Adam cursed at his men and told them to take the horses and point my escort toward Balvenie.” Susan’s voice took on a dreamy tone. “He reached down and caught me up with one hand. He sat me on his horse in front of him, and we were away like the wind.”

  “He took you prisoner?”

  “Aye,” Susan whispered. “He carried me to a grove of trees not far from the village down the hill from the castle. We just...we talked for a long while. Something happened to us that day, Catherine. When we parted, we both knew it would not be for long.”

  “But you were coming here to become Athol’s wife, were you not?”

  “Aye, to Lady Anne’s thinking--and wishing.” Susan smiled as she looked up. “Though after meeting Adam of the Glen, I knew I could never have gone through with it. So after arriving here, I became as sour and severe a young hag as anyone could imagine. There was no way that John Stewart could ever take a liking to someone like me.”

  “And here, a few short months later, he did exactly that,” Catherine laughed. “He married a sour and severe old hag!”

  “Perhaps.” Susan’s eyes shone with mischief as they turned on Catherine. “Though seeing what went on that night in the corridor outside of your chamber, I’d say he soon developed a very different way of seeing women like us.”

  Catherine blushed at the recollection of Susan witnessing their lovemaking. Unconsciously laying a hand over the treasure she was carrying within her, she met Susan’s eyes again. “Enough of that, you imp. Tell me how you found a way to go and see Adam again?”

  “Roy Sykes came to the castle soon after I arrived. He was our messenger for a while. I know you must think me a traitor, knowing the whereabouts of Adam of the Glen and still keeping quiet to Athol--”

  “I have no ill will toward anything you’ve done. Now, if you had brought him inside the walls of this keep, and delivered up these folk to him...”

  “Adam would never hurt an innocent. From the first time I learned of the secret passages--through Auld Mab--and found a way to steal out of the castle and return unheeded, he never asked that I betray Athol or Lady Anne. I know he has been raiding and acting the part of an outlaw, but in truth I know he is an honorable man. In all his raids, he has never yet shed any blood without cause. He wants his brother to feel his vengeance, but in the same way that he let you go last night, he will not bring his wrath down on an innocent. Athol, he believes, is the one who needs to be punished. He alone.”

  Catherine again had to fight back the worry from choking her. “And this is why we must set him right. We must find a way for them both to see the truth.”

  “Aye.” Susan nodded. “There is no other choice.”

  Catherine rose to her feet and began to pace the room again. Between the two of them, she was certain they ha
d explained most of Adam’s and John’s past. But there were still some things that made no sense.

  “Susan, why do you think the old earl took Adam to Huntly instead of just leaving him with the child’s mother? You mentioned he was educated and treated well before being sent to England. And how can you explain the fact that no one knows of any mistress that the old earl kept? Everyone says that the dowager and her husband had a close marriage...that he had no other women.”

  “Adam has tried to find out who his mother is...or was. He has searched this entire area, but has found nothing.”

  “And John has done the same, and he too has found nothing. He told me that much himself.”

  Susan paused, her eyes focusing on Catherine’s face. “I tried to tell Adam that perhaps she was dead. That many women die in childbirth. But he said that she is alive.”

  “How does he know that?”

  “He does not know for certain, but when he was freed from the Tower, there was a special envoy sent to ransom him. ‘Twas not an envoy from the Scottish king, that much they told him. But something they said, some vague reference, made Adam believe the envoy came on behalf of his mother.”

  Catherine considered that for a moment and then shook her head. “To send an envoy to ransom a political prisoner would have taken a great deal of gold. What woman would have command of such wealth?”

  Susan nodded. “Not some peasant woman, that is for certain.”

  “If ‘twas not the king, and not Athol or Lady Anne...”

  “I believe that Adam has decided that if ‘twas not his mother who ransomed him, then the gold must have come from the one person who knows his past, the only one with enough wealth to pay the kind of ransom the English king would demand.”

  “Huntly.”

  “Aye. Adam believes that his mother may have begged Huntly on his behalf. That is why he has gone to wait for the earl of Huntly now.”

  A damp wet breeze swept into the chamber. Catherine hugged her middle and looked in the direction of the window. The blue sky had disappeared, replaced by a low, fast moving mass of wind-driven gray. As she watched, a gust of rain drenched in an instant the narrow stone sill. The rain began to fall in sheets, then.

  She could not allow herself to think of what might happen at Huntly now. She had to focus on what else they could learn right here at Balvenie Castle.

  She had to prepare. She had to be ready.

  CHAPTER 21

  John Stewart, earl of Athol, stood before the fire in the Great Hall of Huntly Castle, steam from his clothes rising like a mist about him.

  “‘Twas his wish, John,” the earl of Huntly told him. “‘Twas your father’s wish that you never be told.”

  “But why?” Athol asked, glaring at the wizened man sitting in his carved chair. Huntly was a legend in Scotland. Warrior, statesman, counselor to kings, and loyal friend to John Stewart and his father before him. “Why should my father bring a bastard child to my mother--and yet choose to keep it from me? Why, m’lord?”

  “As close as we were, your father always kept his own counsel on some things. But I believe I can answer that.” Huntly’s sharp gray eyes softened slightly, and his gaze fixed on the fire behind Athol. “I know you remember your father as a strong man--as one who would never bend to anyone or anything in his life.”

  “Aye.” Athol folded his arms across his chest. “That’s how I remember him.”

  “I remember him as an honorable man,” Huntly continued. “And one who loved your mother very much. Not always the case, you know, among those in our position.”

  “So I understand, m’lord,” the tall Highlander responded grimly. “But he made a mistake.”

  “Aye. Not a terrible mistake, by many men’s standards, but a mistake that he felt besmirched his honor...and brought unhappiness to your mother. But as an honorable man, he would not turn his back on his responsibility. So when your mother refused to accept the bairn as her own, he brought the lad to me.”

  “He trusted you.”

  “Aye. He wanted Adam raised with all the privileges of an earl’s son. At that time you were too young to understand such things, so you were told nothing. But later...well, later I believe he thought it would serve no purpose in you knowing.”

  “Why?” Athol asked, impatience in his tone.

  Huntly did not look into John’s face as he told him of the terms of the Treaty of Bruges...and of a father’s choice. Athol listened with growing dismay to the aging earl.

  He’d never known.

  “...‘Twas a matter of hiding you or having you both flee Scotland, but his honor and his loyalty would not allow such an arrangement. He was forced to abide by the terms of the treaty. He had to choose.”

  Athol crossed to the table and took a seat beside the earl of Huntly. That had taken place more than twelve years ago. To this day, he still remembered the long spells of melancholy that afflicted his father at the end of his life.

  “The choice killed him.”

  Huntly paused before answering. “Aye. Your father died within a year after that. You recall that he sent for me before he died.”

  John nodded at the memory.

  “He wanted to make certain that you would hear nothing of the truth. He did not believe that Adam would survive that imprisonment. If Scotland broke the treaty, the hostages would certainly die, and your father had no faith in the earl of Angus and the Douglases, who were in power at the time.” Huntly laid a hand on Athol’s arm. “Knowing your sense of honor, he was fearful that you would go to England and take Adam’s place.”

  John Stewart ran a weary hand over his face. Of course he would have. He was the legitimate son. It was his place to be there.

  “You were educated and brought up to be laird of your people. As much as he loved both his sons, he felt a responsibility to your mother, to you, and to the people of the glens around Balvenie Castle.”

  “And what of Adam?” He stood, crossed to the hearth, and stared into the flames. What of him? What his brother must have suffered!

  Huntly broke into his thoughts. “I knew it then, and I see now that your father was right. Not telling you the truth was the right thing to do. Without you succeeding your father, your people would never be living as they do now.”

  “Aye, but Adam rightfully holds me responsible for what is past. And here, I have been so ignorant of the truth that instead of seeking him out and trying to make him understand, instead of trying to make reparations, I have been hunting him like an animal across the land.”

  “I’m more at fault in that than anyone else.” The earl of Huntly rose to his feet and stepped up beside Athol. “When I heard of Adam’s freedom six months ago, I should have guessed at the confusion that would cloud his thinking. But with England again at war with France, I have been under great pressure. In fact ‘twas not until just a few hours ago...”

  “Is he here?”

  The earl of Huntly paused, his eyes steadily measuring John. “Yesterday, I would not have answered you. Today, I know you see him in a very different light.”

  “Is he here, and does he know what I know?”

  Huntly shook his head. “He is no longer here, John. But what I have told you, I have also told him.”

  John let out a breath and waited for the earl to continue. So, they both knew the truth now.

  “He was as shocked as you, my friend, and even more affected by it all, I think.”

  For a moment, he wondered--if their fates had been reversed--how he himself would have taken such news. It is much easier to turn your anger on someone you hold responsible for your misery, than to think that Fortune has simply chosen to frown on you.

  “Do you know where he is now?”

  The earl of Huntly hesitated, and then shook his head, but somehow John was not convinced of the other man’s total ignorance.

  “‘Tis time that Adam shared in the land and fortune our father left to me. ‘Tis time that we made our peace.”

  “You c
an do what you like with your own lands, John, but you do not need to worry about Adam going hungry. As you know, I have no direct heir, and I’m not getting any younger. I’ve already spoken to the king and the council, and they have agreed. One of the reasons for my journey north was to give Adam title to this castle and the lands I have here. But I do not believe all the wealth in the world matters much to him right now. He needs some time to reconsider his life and what he wants for the future.”

  But this wasn’t enough, Athol thought. Not for him. He had to find Adam. They both had to come to terms with the past...and the future.

  Catherine’s words came back to him. Of her trust in his sense of what was right. Of her insistence of having him open his heart and letting his words express his feelings.

  John Stewart knew that he was blessed with an incredibly intelligent and beautiful wife. He was blessed with a child growing in her womb. And now he knew that he was blessed with a brother.

  It was up to him to make things work.

  ****

  The storm had continued unabated through the night, and the morning’s cold, wet air lay in patches in the corridors of the Balvenie Castle like a company of marsh ghosts.

  Catherine placed a hand on Susan’s arm at the top of the stairwell.

  “Wait for me while I go back and get a wrap.”

  Turning, she ran back along the corridor toward her chamber.

  In truth, for the hundredth time since yesterday, Catherine wanted to check on the wooden chest sitting prominently on the stool beside the hearth in her chamber. Brother Bartholomew had done as he had been charged the day before, delivering it to Jean upstairs. But as she hurried toward her chamber, she wondered whether the portly monk had shaken the box or perhaps even examined the lock. In fact, Catherine couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before the ornate box would be taken or at least broken open.

  She was no fool. She had spent most of her life knowing that she must be watchful of those seeking the Tiberian treasure. She did not fear them--well, not those she suspected to be near. She knew that most of these people would not harm her, but she must be on her guard. And she would lure them out, if any were indeed here at Balvenie Castle, as she suspected.