CAPTURED BY A LAIRD (THE DOUGLAS LEGACY)

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by Mallory, Margaret


  The household was gathering in the courtyard. David scanned their faces, looking for his wife. Was she still so upset with him that she would not show him the courtesy of greeting him upon his return? It seemed unlike her.

  He dismounted and tossed his reins to a stable lad, then climbed the steps of the keep. Inside, the servants were clearing the remains of breakfast from the tables.

  Alison was not in the hall, but Will ran up to him with the girls’ pup on his heels.

  “I’ve been teaching Jasper tricks,” Will said. “I wanted to surprise Bea and Margaret.”

  “Where are they and Lady Alison?”

  “I was just looking for them,” Will said.

  “They must be upstairs,” David said, and started for the stairs.

  He took them three at a time, with Will and the pup behind him.

  “I’ll check the Tower Room,” Will said, and continued up the stairs while David pushed open the door to his and Alison’s bedchamber.

  He stood in the empty room. “Damn it, where is she?”

  Moments later, Will appeared in the doorway. “They aren’t in the Tower Room, either.”

  “When did ye see them last?”

  Will scrunched up his face in thought, then said, “Last night.”

  “What about breakfast?”

  “I was working on the tricks with Jasper and forgot to eat.”

  Just then, Robbie came running up the stairs, shouting, “David!”

  “What is it?”

  “Everyone’s saying Lady Alison and her daughters are gone.”

  “Gone?” David asked, hoping he had heard misheard.

  Robbie nodded.

  “How could they be gone?” Fear clenched David’s stomach as the image of Leana face down in the mud and reeds filled his mind. “Where did they go?”

  “No one knows,” Robbie said.

  ***

  “I’ll give you a moment alone with your niece,” the prior said, casting a murderous look at Alison. “I’ll be in the chapel praying that God grants her wisdom.”

  Her uncle pulled her to his side with a grip that hurt her arm. He tilted his head toward the door and pressed a finger to his lips to indicate that the prior or one of his minions could be listening.

  “The Blackadders have gone to the King’s Council,” he said in a hushed voice, “and argued that your dead husband’s male relations have a higher claim to inherit his lands and castle than your daughters do.”

  “Surely their blood tie is too distant?”

  “Not too distant when the political winds blow against us,” he whispered. “Your marriage to the Laird of Tulliallan, however, will resolve the dispute to both families’ satisfaction.”

  “Tulliallan?” she hissed. How could he think she would ever wed that disgusting man?

  “A child of yours will still inherit the Blackadder lands,” he continued, as if it should not matter to her that he was speaking of a child she would conceive with the despicable Blackadder laird—or that Beatrix and Margaret would be disinherited.

  “More importantly, this will ensure that the Blackadders support your brother Archibald as the rightful guardian of his stepson, the king.”

  “David Hume would make a far stronger ally in that fight than the Blackadders,” she said, knowing that arguing for what would be best for her and her daughters would be useless.

  “If he chose to be an ally,” her uncle said.

  “Let me speak to him.”

  “Wedderburn is too unpredictable,” he said with a sour expression. “He prides himself on being his own man.”

  “Ye must let me try, because I refuse to pretend this marriage never happened,” she said.

  “Our chieftain will be gravely displeased to learn you’ve refused to do your duty as a Douglas.”

  “My brother knows of this?”

  “At whose behest do you think I came here?” When she did not respond, he rolled his eyes heavenward. “I negotiated this agreement with the Blackadders at your brother’s request.”

  Archie had done this to her? “Does George know?”

  “Of course he does,” he said with an impatient sigh.

  She was devastated to learn that her brothers had once again put their ambitions above her well-being. They expected her to submit to being used as a pawn, and they could not even be bothered to tell her to her face.

  “I’ll take you and your daughters home to Tantallon now,” he said, referring to the massive Douglas fortress on the edge of the sea. “You can speak with your brothers there.”

  “My home is at Blackadder Castle with my husband,” she said. “’Tis growing late. I must collect my daughters and return. When ye see my sisters, please give them my warm regards.”

  Her brothers could go to hell.

  “Be forewarned,” her uncle said, his face turning a blotchy red, “this is not the end of it.”

  Alison had all she could stomach of the arrogance of the men in her family, starting with her uncle.

  “I’m saving ye from making a grave mistake,” she said, shaking her finger at him. “I know the Blackadders better than you do, and they cannot be trusted.”

  “’Tis not your place—”

  “David Hume is ten times the man that any of the Blackadder are,” she said. “Tell my brothers that they’d be wise to make him their ally—and damned foolish to make him their enemy.”

  With that, she whirled around and headed for the door.

  ***

  “Surely the men who accompanied my wife left word as to where they were going,” David said, gripping Robbie’s shoulders.

  “She refused an escort,” Robbie said. “She told them she was only letting the girls circle the castle with their ponies.”

  David wanted to strangle the guards for not going with them. “When was this?”

  “At daybreak, shortly before the guards changed,” Robbie said. “I woke up the men who were at the gate at the time, and that’s all they could tell me.”

  “That was at least an hour ago,” David said.

  “Do ye think they were taken, or…” Robbie’s voice faded, leaving unsaid the alternative—that she had left him of her own accord.

  “I don’t know,” David said, though the timing just before the guard changed certainly suggested she had planned it. “Whether she and the lassies left on their own or were taken, they are in danger. We must find them, and quickly.”

  “But we don’t know where to look,” Robbie said.

  “They can’t have gotten far.” David tried to make himself think. Where would Alison go?

  Or to whom?

  CHAPTER 33

  Alison was frantically helping her daughters into their cloaks when the prior returned.

  “You’re not letting her leave, are you?” the prior asked, glaring at Alison’s uncle.

  “For now,” her uncle said. “She was a pliable child. I don’t know what’s happened to her.”

  Under her breath, Alison said, “I have a husband who values a lass with spirit.”

  “The children are Blackadders,” the prior said. “I insist they remain with me.”

  “You insist?” her uncle said in his most haughty tone. “Let me remind you that these children are my blood relation and nieces of the Earl of Angus, the king’s stepfather.”

  Alison felt immediately safer with her powerful uncle taking her part, though she was well aware that he spoke in her defense not out of affection, but because the prior had insulted his pride.

  “Thank you, Your Grace.” She dipped him another curtsy, then took her daughters’ hands. “Hurry, girls. We’re going home.”

  She told herself that the prior would not dare cross her uncle by attempting to obstruct their departure. All the same, she did not take an easy breath until the abbey disappeared into the trees behind them. Beatrix and Margaret were unusually silent, sensing her unease, and rode at a trot without her asking.

  Ominous thunderclouds darkened the sky and a
strong wind whipped the trees, making the usually pleasant ride along the river seem eerie.

  She tucked her chin into her cloak and revisited her meeting with the clerics, which had been a revelation in more ways than one. Chief among her discoveries was that she was hopelessly in love with her new husband.

  She felt a prickle on the back of her neck and her thoughts scattered. She felt as if someone was watching them. The meeting at the abbey had made her jittery and must have fueled her imagination. But the horses seemed edgy too.

  “What’s that sound?” Beatrix asked.

  “A deer, perhaps,” Alison said, and signaled for the girls to stay quiet.

  It sounded like a large animal moving through the trees, but it could just be the wind rustling the branches. She was anxious to get home.

  Not long now. There was a small clearing around the next bend, and a quarter-mile past that they would be in sight of the castle. They would be safe then.

  They rounded the bend, and her heart went to her throat.

  A dozen riders were in the clearing, and she knew at once that they were waiting for her and her daughters. She turned her horse, but more riders appeared through the woods behind them, blocking her path. In a matter of moments, they were surrounded.

  “Lady Alison, ’tis always a pleasure.” The man who spoke had a pointy beard and hard gray eyes and bore a remarkable resemblance to her late husband.

  Patrick Blackadder. She recognized several of the other men as well, including his brother.

  “You ladies should know better than to be out riding alone,” Patrick’s brother said with a nasty smile. “It could be dangerous.”

  “’Tis fortunate that we’ve come to escort ye to safety,” Patrick said.

  “We’re not going anywhere with you,” Alison said, lifting her whip. “Get out of our way.”

  One of their men grabbed her reins, while another snapped the whip from her hand, pulled her off her horse, and pinned her arms behind her back.

  “You’ll ride with me,” Patrick said, holding his hand out to her. “After all, you’re going to be my wife.”

  “Ye know very well I already have a husband,” she said through her teeth as she struggled against the man who held her.

  “No need to pretend loyalty to the Beast,” Patrick said. “Wedderburn will be dead soon. They’ll find him lying in a field with crows picking at his eyes.”

  The certainty with which Patrick spoke made Alison shudder. What did Patrick know that made him so confident?

  “Ye can’t kill David,” Beatrix said. “He’s a hundred times stronger and more clever than any of ye.”

  “Mind your mouth, lassie, if ye don’t want it bloodied,” Patrick’s brother said.

  “Don’t you dare!” Alison shouted at him. Looking into her daughters’ terrified eyes, she said, “David will come for us.”

  She prayed with all her heart that it was true.

  “Wedderburn is many miles away, but we’ve dawdled here long enough.” Patrick held out his hand to her again. “I don’t think we need to wait for him to die to share a bed, do you?”

  “I’d die first.”

  “Shame to make us wait for what we both want,” Patrick said, raking his gaze over her. “But you’re not truly necessary for this. Ye may remain here if ye wish.”

  This had to be a trick. The Blackadders would not give up this easily.

  “’Tis your daughters who are the heiresses,” Patrick said with a smile that sent a chill up her spine. He turned to his men. “Take the wee lasses.”

  “Don’t touch them!” Alison cried. She fought to get to her daughters, but she was held fast. “Nay, ye can’t take them!”

  Her daughters’ screams rang in her ears as two men wrested them off the ponies and onto their horses. The breath went out of Alison. Please, God, no!

  “Ye can’t do this!” She kicked and bit the man who held her, but she couldn’t break free.

  “I’ll take the mouthy lassie,” Patrick’s brother said.

  “Mother!” Beatrix cried out as from he lifted her from the other man’s horse, plopped her in front of him, and fastened one beefy arm around her.

  “Patrick, take me instead,” Alison pleaded. “Take me and leave my daughters!”

  “Ye must know I can’t leave the wee heiresses behind—at least not alive,” Patrick said, then turned to her daughters, who were wailing their hearts out, and said in a falsely pleasant voice, “Ready to ride?”

  “Don’t leave me here!” Alison cried. “I’ll do anything ye say. Anything. Just take me with my daughters.”

  “And the good prior said ye were an unbiddable lass,” Patrick said. “But then, he doesn’t know much about women.”

  CHAPTER 34

  “David, wait,” Will called from the floor above.

  “I can’t,” David said over his shoulder, and continued down the stairs two at a time, with Robbie close behind him.

  “But I know where they’ve gone!”

  David came to an abrupt halt and leaned back to look around the curve of the wheeled stairs at his youngest brother.

  “Bea left a message,” Will said. “Come see!”

  A short time later, David stood with his brothers examining a childish drawing scrawled on the stone wall.

  “Bea must have used this blackened stick from the fire,” Robbie said, picking it up from the floor.

  “Her mother will be angry—” David started to say, but then he remembered that both mother and daughter were gone.

  “She signed it so we’d know it was from her,” Will said, pointing at the large smudged “B” beneath it.

  “’Tis only a drawing,” David said, disappointment weighing him down like a boulder.

  “Will’s right. See, that’s the three of them riding,” Robbie said, pointing to the three longhaired stick figures on four-legged creatures. “They’re going to this building with a wall around it. Do ye suppose it’s a castle?”

  Perhaps the child did mean to leave them a message. David was afraid to hope.

  “Isn’t that a cross on the building?” Will said.

  “Then ’tis not a castle, but a church…” David thought aloud as he examined the scrawled drawing more closely. “Those are trees there, and that wavy line must be a burn.”

  He ran his hands through his hair. Think! Where did Alison take them? It was obviously a place the child had seen before. There were only the three of them in the drawing. No matter how anxious Alison was to leave him, she would not take the girls very far on her own. It had to be nearby.

  The answer came to him like a bolt of lightning: the abbey, where the prior was her late husband’s kinsman.

  Alison had left him, and she could not have chosen a refuge that hurt him more.

  She had gone to the Blackadders.

  “We must ride hard for the abbey,” he said, though he suspected the Blackadders would have moved Alison and the girls by now.

  That’s what he would have done in their place.

  ***

  Alison’s fear mounted as they rode farther and farther away. Would anyone even look for them before Patrick had her and her daughters locked away inside Tulliallan Castle? And Patrick was well on his way to becoming as loathsome as her former husband.

  She did her best to ignore his erection pressing against her backside, but when he attempted to cup her breast, she slapped his hand. “Stop it.”

  “No need to play coy with me. We’ll be man and wife soon,” he said against her ear. “I’ve waited years for this, and I know ye have too.”

  Was he mad or so vain that he had deluded himself into believing she desired him?

  “Ye should have been my wife from the start,” he said. “I wanted to kill my kinsmen every time I saw him with ye. When he died, it was my turn.”

  Patrick had always made her uncomfortable, but she had not realized he harbored such notions about the two of them.

  “My uncle and the prior said nothing about my m
arrying you,” she said. It seemed unlikely he would let them go if he knew his father had a different plan, but that was the only card she held.

  “I know they told ye we would wed,” he said. “That was the agreement my father reached with the Douglases.”

  “’Tis not what I was told.”

  “Don’t lie to me,” he said. “The prior told me they discussed the annulment with ye, and ye refused. Why would ye do that?”

  “They did speak of an annulment,” she said, “but they said it was your father I must wed.”

  “That bastard!” Patrick whipped his horse so hard that they jolted forward.

  She gripped the horse’s mane to keep from falling and glanced over her shoulder at her daughters, who looked so frightened she could not bear it.

  “So my father and the Douglases expected me to wait, like my idiot brother,” he bit out, “and wed one of your daughters when she comes of age.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed. Please, God, don’t let this happen. Unfortunately, the betrothals could easily be broken. Without David’s protection, her daughters were in very real danger of falling victim to the Blackadders and her brothers’ schemes.

  “Since your family did not deliver ye as promised, we Blackadders will change the terms to suit ourselves.”

  “How so?” she asked, though she did not expect to like the new terms any better.

  “You’ll be mine, of course,” he said, pressing against her. “My father will be happy to take one of your daughters. He has a weakness for verra young lasses.”

  Alison felt nauseous. “Wedderburn will murder all of ye for even thinking of touching my daughters,” she said. “He’s verra fond of them.”

  “The Beast is fond of them?” Patrick laughed. “He’ll be in a rage for certain, but not because he cares for them.”

  “He does,” she insisted, emotion making her choke on the words, “as much as if they were his own daughters.”

  She imagined David returning to the castle to find them gone. Why had she not told someone where she was going?

  “What Wedderburn cares about is that we’ve ruined his own plans for the wee heiresses.”

 

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