“They went down to the kitchens a little while ago,” Grizel said. “Ye were careful, my lady, weren’t ye? No one saw ye come or go?”
“The Hay doesn’t keep a watch from the roof,” Maggie said. “He doesn’t even know we have a cannon up there for I camouflaged it after he arrived,” she chuckled. “I can come and go as I please. I had best change out of my breeks, though, lest he become suspicious. Then I’ll go down and fetch my sons upstairs.”
Maggie changed her garments quickly, stripping off her breeks, shirt, and boots and replacing them with a medium blue velvet bodice and skirt. She undid her braid, brushed out her chestnut curls, and then replaited her hair. Slipping her feet into a pair of soft kid house slippers, she hurried downstairs to the kitchen where the cook was now preparing the meal. Looking about, she did not see her sons. “Where are my lads?” she asked the cook and her helpers.
“That Hay captain, Bhaltair, came and got them,” the cook said. “The poor bairns hadn’t even had their meal yet. I was just serving it, but nothing would do but that he take Master Davy and Master Andrew by the hand and go off with them, my lady.”
Maggie’s heart began to hammer. She took several slow deep breaths to calm it. Then turning, she ran up the stairs, and into the hall. Her grandsire was dozing by one of hearths, an old deerhound by his side. Ewan Hay and his priest, Father Gillies, were speaking in low tones by the other hearth. Maggie went immediately up to them.
“What have ye done with my sons?” she demanded of him.
“I do not like yer tone, madam,” he responded.
“I do not like ye,” she said, “but I am forced to bear yer company. What have ye done with my lads, Ewan Hay? Yer captain took them from the kitchens where they had gone to have their meal. Where are they?”
“They are safe for the interim,” he answered, smiling a cruel smile. He had cold blue eyes, and the look in them made her shiver.
“Where are they?” Maggie said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.
“Ye will have them back on the day we wed,” Ewan Hay told her. “Until then they will live in a locked and windowless chamber in yer cellars. They will have a single candle for light. When it burns out, they will be in the dark, madam.”
“They’re little bairns!” Maggie said, horrified. “What kind of a man are ye that ye would use two wee lads to force me to yer will?”
“What kind of a man am I, madam? A real man, not a lass in breeks giving orders to her betters. I am a man who will not allow ye to run roughshod over me. I warned ye once that I would teach ye yer place. Now get out of the hall, and remain in yer chamber until ye are ready to obey me. Neither ye, nor yer lads, nor the old man dozing by the fire will receive food or drink until ye bend to my will. Do ye understand me?”
“If I ever considered being merciful to ye, Ewan Hay, ye have put such thoughts from my mind with yer behavior today. If anything should happen to my lads, ye will wish ye had never been born nor seen the light of day,” Maggie said angrily.
“Do ye see, good Priest, what I must put up with?” Ewan said, turning to Father Gillies. “This woman does not know her place. She is well named Mad Maggie.”
“I suggest a daily beating until she softens,” Father Gillies said. “The Holy Bible instructs a man to beat a disobedient wife. Our laws allow it.”
Hearing him, Maggie glared at the fat priest. “Ye would allow this mistreatment of innocent bairns?” she accused him. “I will be certain the archbishop of St. Andrews learns of yer manners, Priest.” Then turning on her heel, she went to her grandfather and gently awakened him. “It is time to go upstairs, Grandsire,” she told him.
“We have not eaten yet,” Dugald Kerr said.
“We are not to be allowed food or drink until I wed this bastard,” Maggie told her grandfather. “And he has locked the lads in the cellar.”
“What?” Dugald Hay suddenly straightened up. He stamped across the hall to face down Ewan Hay. “How dare ye give such orders in my house, ye cowardly cur! And ye, Priest, will ye stand by and permit this injustice?”
“Old man, yer fate and that of yer great-grandsons is in the hands of yer granddaughter. She has been told she must wed me, but she will not. Yet she must! When the contracts are signed and the blessing given, I will release David and Andrew Stewart from their imprisonment, and all will feast in celebration of my marriage.”
“My husband is alive!” Maggie shouted. “Would ye have me commit bigamy, Ewan Hay? And would ye condone the sin, Priest?”
“No one has seen Fingal Stewart in more than six months,” Ewan said through clenched teeth. “There has been no demand for ransom. The man is dead, and ye are mine, Maggie Kerr, whether ye will it or no.”
“Never!” Maggie shouted at him. “I will go to my grave first!”
“How long will a single candle last before yer sons are together in the dark, the sounds of the rats scuttling about them? How long can they survive without food or water? Will ye let them perish in the dark to have yer will, madam? And how long will this old man last in such circumstances? If ye have not bent to my will by morning, he will go into the darkness too! I will not allow ye to defy me! Ye will marry me, and ye will cry out my name in the throes of yer passion. Ye will give me sons. I will have the Aisir nam Breug for myself. Whether any of ye live or die is of little importance to me. The country is in an uproar. The English are raiding as they have never done so before. Ye have no one who will aid ye, for French Mary is too busy protecting her own. The monarchy is weakened now. This keep, Brae Aisir, is all mine for the taking!”
“Bring my lads from their dungeon, and I will wed ye,” Maggie said. She had no choice, but she would kill him when he entered her bed, and Ewan Hay was too stupid to realize it. She couldn’t allow him to harm her sons or hurt her grandsire.
“Nay,” her grandsire said. “Ye’ll not wed him!”
“Grandsire, there is no choice,” Maggie said, attempting to reason with the old man. “Will ye let him murder Fin’s lads?”
“I’ll kill ye!” Dugald Kerr said, pulling his dirk from his belt, his gnarled hand raised as he came forward.
Ewan Hay knocked the weapon from the old man’s hand, pushing him back so hard the old laird stumbled and fell. “Bhaltair,” Ewan Hay called. “Take this old fool to his chamber, and lock him inside.” Reaching out, he prevented Maggie from going to her grandfather. “Nay, madam, we have unfinished business. Am I to understand that ye will wed me of yer own free will?”
“Aye,” Maggie ground out.
“Excellent,” he said, and he smiled a triumphant smile.
“My sons,” she said.
“Tomorrow,” he told her. “Sign the contracts tomorrow, and I will consider releasing them. And then on the day after, we will go to the chapel to receive the blessing on our union.”
“If I sign the contract tonight, will ye let my lads out?” Maggie asked him.
“Nay, on the morrow is time enough. Ye’ll not have yer will with me, madam, as ye’ve had it with every other man who has crossed yer path. Now come to the high board, and we will eat.”
“I’m not hungry,” Maggie said, and she wasn’t.
“Whether ye are hungry or not, madam, ye will sit with me at the high board,” Ewan Hay told her. “Remember that from now on the comfort of yer sons’ lives depends upon yer behavior towards me.” He held out his hand to her.
Maggie took it, hating him with every fiber of her being as she did. Her bairns would be so frightened, she thought. She needed to go to them. To comfort them. She would find out where they were after she escaped the hall. The serving men began bringing the food to the table. Ewan Hay and his priest ate and drank heartily. Maggie tried to eat because she knew she had to keep her strength up, but right now in this company she simply could not swallow a thing. She drank a little of the wine in her cup. Finally Maggie could bear no more. She arose. “I should like to go to my chamber,” she said.
Ewan Hay’s fingers fastene
d about her wrist. He yanked her down into his lap.
“I’m not ready to part with yer company,” he said as an arm encircled her waist, drawing her close. The hand that had pulled her down now released her wrist and plunged into her bodice. He fondled her breast, tweaking at the nipple, and pressed a wet kiss on her mouth. “Ye have soft skin,” he then murmured at her.
“Have ye no shame?” she hissed at him. “Ye would lust openly before yer own priest? Take yer hand from my gown. We are not wed yet.”
He snickered. “Gillies is already asleep, for he has no head for wine. Turn yer head and look at him. He’ll be snoring any minute.” The hand that had been crushing her breast now slipped beneath her skirt, and up her thigh.
Maggie gasped with shock at his lewdness. He was half drunk, and she felt the arm about her relaxing. Jumping up, she skittered away from him. “I am going to my chamber,” she said.
“Let me come with ye,” he begged her.
“I’ll cut yer throat if ye do,” Maggie threatened, and then she ran from the hall.
Hearing footsteps behind her, she whirled about and found Busby coming towards her. “The bairns?” she said to him. “Do ye know where they are?”
The majordomo nodded. “They’re all right. When the Hay took the keys from me, he had no knowledge that there was a second set. I spoke with the lads, and told them ’tis a game we’re playing. They have food, water, a lamp, and blankets, my lady. They are safe, and they are fine.”
“I have to get my children out of the keep, Busby. I can’t allow him to use them against me. I have had to promise to wed him to protect them, but if we can get them away, I don’t have to keep that promise,” Maggie said.
“But where outside the keep can they be safe?” Busby asked her.
“They must be taken through the pass to Netherdale,” Maggie replied. “My uncle will not harm them, for they are his blood. Besides, he has it in mind that his daughter by Aldis, his third wife, would make a fine wife for Davy. Whether that ever happens is something we must leave up to the Fates, but my lads will be safe in Netherdale. Rafe, my cousin, will watch over them. He has several lads of his own.”
“The night will be short,” Busby noted. “Go to your chamber, my lady. I will take the lads to Clennon Kerr, and he will see them taken safely to Netherdale.”
“I must see them, Busby. I must bid them farewell,” Maggie said.
“Nay, my lady, ye must go upstairs, and let the house settle into its nighttime quiet. I will fetch the boys and take them out through yer secret gate into the village. I saw ye did not eat. Ye will find food in yer chamber, and Grizel awaiting ye. When it is discovered tomorrow that yer lads are gone, ye can say with complete honesty that ye don’t know how they escaped, and Grizel can swear ye were in yer chamber all night.”
Maggie nodded. “Tell them I love them, and to be respectful to Lord Edmund,” she told Busby. Then turning again for the stairs, she hurried up to her chamber where Grizel was indeed awaiting her. “Bar my door,” she told her servant. “I left him drunk, and apt to get drunker. If he comes sniffing about my door, we want it well locked and barred.” Then Maggie told Grizel what had transpired, and of how the Hay was attempting to use her sons against her. “I am going to have to kill him,” she said, “and if I’m caught and hanged for it, I will regret naught.”
“Sit down and eat,” Grizel said. “Then ye must get some sleep. Ye need to be strong, my lady. ’Twill not be an easy day tomorrow.”
Maggie did as she was bid. She ate heartily, now able to swallow and enjoy her food. She slept heavily and on waking dressed in a dark green velvet gown. Then she descended to the hall. Just as she reached it she heard Busby’s voice murmur, “All is well, madam.” Maggie strode into the hall. “I’ve decided I will not wed ye.”
“Ye would sacrifice yer lads to have yer way?” he asked.
“Why don’t ye go and ask my sons yerself?” Maggie mocked him.
Ewan Hay got up slowly from the chair in which he had been sitting. “What have ye done, ye border vixen? What have ye done?” He came towards her.
Maggie stood her ground. “I have done nothing,” she said sweetly.
“Bhaltair!” Ewan Hay shouted to his captain, and then he dashed from the chamber. “Bhaltair! To me! To me!”
Maggie smiled, pleased at the tone of panic in his voice.
“Have ye sinned, my daughter?” Father Gillies asked. “Should ye make yer confession to me?”
“Nay, I have not sinned,” Maggie replied softly.
“Aye, ye have. ’Tis the sin of pride ye commit, my daughter,” the priest said. “ ’Tis the sin of disobedience ye have committed.”
“If seeing to my sons’ best interests is a sin, good Priest, then I suppose I am guilty as ye have charged,” Maggie told him sweetly.
Father Gillies’s eyes narrowed, and he contemplated the woman before him. “It is neither wise nor good for a woman to be clever,” he warned her.
“I will consider yer words and ponder upon them in my heart,” Maggie replied.
“A good beating will take the defiance from ye,” he responded snappishly. “I shall recommend to my lord Ewan that he apply the rod most strongly to ye from this day forth until yer behavior is corrected. I have advised him before to do this. Now he will.”
Maggie dropped all pretenses at politeness. “The bastard hasn’t got the stones to raise his hand to me, and the day he does will be his last, Priest, and yers. There is no holiness about ye as with my great-uncle. Yer an evil man to encourage the Hay into a bigamous marriage, and to advise him to cruelty towards bairns and women.”
Ewan Hay returned to the hall in the company of Bhaltair. The Hay captain was immediately behind Maggie, pinioning her arms to her side. His breath was foul.
“Now, bitch,” Ewan Hay said, “ye will tell me where ye have secreted yer sons,” and without waiting for an answer he slapped her several times across the cheek.
Gathering up as much spittle as she could within her mouth, Maggie spit fiercely at him. Then she smiled at him defiantly. “Go to hell!”
“I will kill ye if ye do not tell me,” Ewan Hay said through gritted teeth.
“Nay, I will not tell ye,” she said. “My lads are safe where ye cannot get at them. Even if ye kill me, ye will not have Brae Aisir or control the Aisir nam Breug.”
“And Annabelle? Where is she?” he asked.
“I do not know,” Maggie responded, surprised by his query. So her servants had thought to get her little daughter out of the keep too. Bless them! She had been so concerned with Davy and Andrew that she had not considered Annabelle. She had not thought her in danger, but obviously others did think her baby vulnerable.
Ewan Hay saw the surprise that Maggie quickly masked upon her face when he had asked about her daughter. So, he thought, the bitch had more allies within the house than he had previously considered. Then he had a thought. “Let her go, Bhaltair,” he said. “She will indeed go to her grave before she tells us anything.”
Father Gillies came to Ewan’s side and whispered something in his ear.
“Fetch the old laird,” the Hay said, a nasty smile touching his lips.
“My grandsire knows nothing of any of this,” Maggie said as Bhaltair strode from the hall to do his master’s bidding. “Do ye think me foolish enough to involve him?”
“I think ye will very shortly sign the contracts that Father Gillies has laid out upon the high board,” Ewan Hay said coldly. “If ye do not keep yer word to wed me, then I will have Bhaltair slit yer grandfather’s throat, madam. If ye would have the old man’s death on yer conscience, then refuse me one more time.”
God and the Blessed Mother! She had not considered the Hay would use Dugald Kerr against her. But then, a man who would put two little lads in a dank dark cellar chamber would probably do anything to get his way. Maggie pressed her lips together to keep from shrieking at her own stupidity. She was tired of this game he was playing! She wanted him
dead. “There will be no coupling until the blessing, which will be in three days’ time,” Maggie said to him. “Ye will give me that courtesy, my lord.”
He nodded as relief poured through him. He had beaten her! He had actually won this battle between them. In a few minutes she would legally be his. He could be gracious enough to wait three more days to bed her. Fingal Stewart had had to wait several months for the privilege of her body. Ewan Hay was no less a gentleman. Three days was not so long to wait. “Everything will be as we have previously agreed upon,” he told her. “I will want the lads brought home, however.”
“Nay,” she said. “I do not trust ye not to harm them.”
“Ye cannot keep them away forever,” Ewan Hay told her. “They are yer heirs.”
“I can, and I will,” Maggie said obdurately.
“We will discuss this at a later date when yer in a more reasonable mood,” he replied, smiling at her.
Maggie did not smile back.
Bhaltair now came into the hall, escorting her grandfather.
“Aah,” Ewan Hay said, “here is Lord Dugald come to witness the signing of our union, madam.”
Dugald Kerr cast a scornful glance at the Hay. “Are the bairns safe?” he asked his granddaughter.
“Aye,” she told him. She said nothing more, but her face registered her fear.
He was surprised to see such an emotion in her eyes, for Maggie had never been one to allow fear to overcome her. “Ye don’t have to wed the bastard,” he said.
“I do,” Maggie responded. “I gave my word, Grandsire, and my honor is every bit as important to me as a man’s would be.”
“But this man has not acted in an honorable fashion,” the laird answered his granddaughter. “Ye are free to refuse him now.”
“Nay,” Maggie said low.
Dugald Kerr fastened his gaze upon Ewan Hay. “What is it ye are doing to coerce my Maggie into this foul union?” he demanded of the young man.
Ewan Hay avoided looking directly at the old man, but he did tell him the truth. “I have told her if she does not wed me, I will have ye killed,” he responded coldly.
The Border Vixen Page 33