“I’d do her the biggest service by clearing off…and me, too.”
He heard a footfall in the hallway and opened one eye. His heart leaped. Maybe it was her – or at least Tam, coming to say hello. However, nobody moved. He was about to say something, when a shadow fell across the patch of light before the door.
He held his breath, keeping his eyes narrowed down to slits, so he could just see the presence through a fringe of eyelashes. He had been a fighter all his life, and, instinctively, he knew that whoever lurked there meant more harm than good. There was an air of waiting about them, as if they were pausing to strike. He pretended to be asleep, and let himself study the shadow.
The form was tall – too tall to be Adeline. He thought they were wearing a cloak, too. Too bulky for Tam, too – no, this was an older presence. He was about to sit up and say something – just to see what they would do – when the shadow turned away, walking silently off. He saw the swing of a cloak and thought he heard the sound of a booted foot, clicking on the wood.
Well, damn me.
He waited until he was sure the person had gone, and then sat up in bed.
Immediately, his mind flashed to the fellow he’d seen with Lady Adeline. It must have been him, surely.
“Time to clear off, lad,” he said to himself firmly.
Her suitor was the one person in the manse who had legitimate reason to wring his neck for being here. It was long past time for him to go before he really caused difficulties for Adeline.
He shifted to the edge of the bed, then paused. His whole body was weak, and walking was quite demanding. He had no horse, and no money – no means of getting from here into town, save walking. What of the wound? He laid a hand on it, wincing as he did so. It felt hot to the touch.
“Easy, lad – you’ve already been sick.”
It needed three weeks at least, to heal without risk of infection. Prudence had stitched the wound – a process for which he was thankfully unconscious – but, despite that, it would take up to a month. During that time, he did not want to be on the road.
A woman’s voice broke his musing.
“Hello?”
Barra, appearing with a tray, paused in the doorway. The smell wafting off it was delicious. He smiled.
“Ta!” he said. “Can that all be for me?” Knowing the state of the household, it seemed ridiculous that the whole tray – crumbly oatcakes, soup and bread – were for him!
Barra chuckled. “Nobody goes hungry here at the manor,” she said
Alexander frowned. That seemed at odds with the information he’d gathered. By the state of the corridor, and the reduced staff, he would have thought the place in grave need of funds. He lifted the spoon nonetheless, though, stomach aching with hunger.
“Potatoes?” he asked, as he tasted it.
“Mistress did insist,” she said.
Alexander closed his eyes again, the gesture touching him more than he could say. He had thought her indifferent, vexed with him. Yet, she remembered their discussion? Enough to insist he was fed potatoes?
The soup was delicious, flavored with onion, and he ate it with relish.
“Barra?” he asked, pausing to break a piece off the loaf. “You said nobody goes hungry here in the manor?”
“Aye,” she nodded, smiling. “Lady Adeline’s a grand sort. Never lets a servant hunger nor a bairn starve.”
“She’s very kind,” he agreed, thinking about her treatment of himself. “But the estate? It’s poor, isn’t it?”
“Why, no, sir!” Barra sounded shocked. “It’s most prosperous! More now than it was, even, or so they say, when Lord Camden ruled.” She looked offended, as if he’d insulted her employer.
“That’s odd.”
“Why?” Barra sounded indignant. “Ye reckon a lass is always soft in the head? You think that Lady Adeline cannae manage her own estate?”
“No, I did nae mean like that.”
“Oh.” Barra sounded glad. “Well, then? Why did ye think tae ask that?” she asked gently.
Alexander shook his head. “I dinnae ken,” he said. “Just wondering.”
“Well, ye can be assured we’re a fine estate…Ask any of the servants.”
“I believe you,” he said, meaning it.
At very least, that’s what Adeline wants you to think.
He still wasn’t sure he believed it himself. It seemed too contradictory. Why had Adeline been crying in the garden? Who had the shadow been, standing in the door?
There was something odd going on here. He was going to find out what.
A RIOT AND A WOOL-FAIR
Adeline woke, feeling as tired as if she hadn’t slept. She rolled over in bed and sat up. What had woken her?
Yawning, she went to the window. The curtains were half-open and she looked down onto the garden below, rubbing her neck with her fingertips to ease out the pain.
“What’s that?”
She listened, hearing a distant sound on the breeze. It sounded like travelers on the road. She frowned. It was the end of the month of April, she remembered. Probably just the shepherds coming into town. It was the wool fair in Duncliffe soon – the sheep had been sheared and they would be selling the wool.
“I should go and tell McInnes we have to get our own produce down to Duncliffe.”
She shrugged on a night robe of linen and pulled the bell rope for Barra. Then she sat at her dressing table, a fine piece of oak wood, though not as fine as the chestnut wood wardrobe Camden had bought, imported from Holland at Heaven knew what cost.
“And out there, fellows bring the sheep down from the hills like they did five hundred years ago, in the mists of time.”
She brushed her hair out thoughtfully. They lived in a country of harsh contrasts. Here in the manor, she could have been in England – or so Camden, who had friends among the army at Ruthven – had said. Outside, the world of moor and cliff side was as it had been a thousand years ago – or so she imagined, anyhow.
“Milady?”
“We must remind the shepherds to take the wool to Duncliffe,” Adeline said, as Barra took over, teasing out the knots in her hair, arranging it into a full bun. She didn’t like the plethora of curls that were becoming more fashionable – not only did her own hair not curl too easily, she hadn’t the patience to sit for an hour while Barra curled it with hot tongs.
“They went yesterday, milady,” Barra said. “They were in the kitchen, getting victuals for the trip.”
“Oh, good.”
Adeline felt bad that she had forgotten, but yesterday she had been distracted. That was her uncle’s fault. The thought of him made her feel ill. She pushed it forcibly aside and focused on the day ahead.
“What will you wear, milady?”
“Um, the white day dress,” she said, surprised at the choice. It was a pleasant gown, with a “v” cut waist, a low neck and lace over the skirt. It was a gown for going for long walks in sunny orchards, and having fun.
Barra looked surprised, too. She said nothing, but Adeline could see her brows raised as she watched her take the dress from the wardrobe room.
“Tam’s already up and about?” she asked, taking off her night robe and reaching for her petticoat, which she shrugged on over her head. She glanced sideways in the mirror as she wrapped her stays around her waist for Barra to tighten – a woman with a body that was as yet young and strong, lithe from riding, looked back at her. She blushed.
Not bad.
The thought brought back thoughts of the coming evening, and that lowered her spirits somewhat. If her uncle had chosen McGuide, he might be as unpleasant a man as he was.
“Aye…Tam’s about. Mistress?” She paused, her eyes meeting Adeline’s. Adeline frowned.
“What is that noise?” she asked.
“I was about to ask the same,” Barra said. She started fastening Adeline’s laces, pulling the stays tight. Adeline could tell she was disconcerted – she was working far too fast and carelessly.
/> “I don’t know,” Adeline said tersely, “but if I can breathe properly, I might survive long enough to find out.”
“Oops! Sorry,” Barra winced, and loosened the cord. Adeline sighed.
“That’s more like it. Now, let’s finish with the dress. I need to find out what that noise is.”
It was coming from outside, in the direction of the road. She had heard it earlier, and dismissed it, thinking it the shepherds coming down. Now, she wasn’t sure. It could still be a troop of wool merchants blocking up the road, but it seemed strange – the fair was likely starting today.
“There ye are, milady,” Barra finished the last button, bringing Adeline’s thoughts back to the present moment. “Now, ye can go.”
“Thank you, Barra,” Adeline said, distracted. She slid her feet into her day boots, and headed out into the corridor.
“Tam!” she called, as her son strode past. “What is it?”
“It’s the road,” Tam said, striding past. “There’s some sort of disturbance. Can you hear…?” He whirled round, looking agitated.
“Yes, son,” Adeline nodded. She crossed the hallway quickly, and together they ran down the stairs. She came up short in the downstairs hallway.
“Burrell!” she said, the old name coming to her lips at once. “What are you doing here?”
The fellow stared at her. Leaning on a walking stick, his face haggard, red spots on his cheeks, he looked flushed. She thought, seeing his eyes travel over the well-fitting gown, it wasn’t all fever redness, either.
“Well?”
“Um, I thought I’d go for a walk, milady,” he said. He sounded, to give him credit, somewhat embarrassed.
“And so, you thought to creep about my house without any sort of due warning? What if you’d collapsed?” she challenged.
He looked at the floor, but when he raised his eyes, she could see a glint in them. Being reprimanded by her seemed a sort of pleasure. She flushed, and realized her heart was thumping faster – she was enjoying it, too.
Beside her, she caught sight of Tam, looking from one to the other of them, a frown forming.
“Tam, we need to go,” she said firmly. “Sir, if you can, get yourself back upstairs. There’s something amiss out there.”
“I heard,” he said. He looked affronted. “I wanted to help.”
She was about to shoot back some retort about his being more use to her recovering his strength, when Tam shouted.
“They’re firing guns, Mama!”
Adeline stiffened. He was right. She heard a shot ring out, then another. Distant, but ever closer.
“We have to go,” she said.
“Milady…”
She whirled round as Burrell – no, Alexander, she must remember – stuck out a hand.
“I have to go. Get yourself upstairs?” she said. It was a sort of plea. The last thing she needed was him being hurt.
Then, as Tam opened the front door, she ran out with him, into the garden.
The scene that met them was chaos. Their own men were massing in the front garden, heading down the drive toward the gate. The road was already busy, carters and farmers fleeing before whoever was shooting. She ran out, waving her arms.
“Well met! Get inside!”
The men all stared at her. A woman with an infant on her shoulder frowned, as if Adeline had spoken a language she didn’t understand. She cleared her throat, repeated it slowly, in Gaelic and in Lowland Scots, just in case.
“Get into the garden. You can all shelter round the back.”
As a mass, they seemed to suddenly understand. The man at the head of the line, a farmer with white hair, nodded. Then, as he went slowly up the drive, the rest followed. Adeline glanced at Tam.
“Lead them to the maze. I’m going out there.”
“Mama…you can’t,” Tam protested. “It’s too dangerous…”However, Adeline was already walking briskly up the road, toward the sound of gunfire.
As she neared the sounds, she realized how dangerous the situation was. She froze as the sound of a bullet whizzed nearby, rattling over her head into the leaves. She pressed herself against the bole of a tree, then to the ground. In a ball, her knees to her chest, she watched the scene unfolding.
A group of men in the kilts and cloaks of the Highland regiments were surrounded by a group of men in red uniforms. Tattered and weary as both groups were, they seemed determined to finish each other off. Adeline stifled a scream as a red-suited man turned his gun around and struck at the head of a Highlander, but in the last minute the man ducked, slashing out with the blade in his left hand with careless ease.
Adeline held her breath, wanting to close her eyes, not to witness the violence unfolding in the clearing not twenty paces from her own home. However, she was trapped here. What could she do?
All of a sudden, a hand descended onto her shoulder. She was about to scream, but someone stifled her. Rage mixed with terror and she spun round. Found herself looking up into the dark brown eyes of Alexander.
Their gaze locked. Adeline saw his eyes were tense at the corners, but he nodded to her, and then inclined his head at the field.
“We should go,” he whispered. “No use to stop it.”
Adeline glared at him. She had to do something! She heard a gun fire and the scream as it hit somebody, and tried to get to her feet, heart anguished. Men were dying! How dare he prevent her from trying to call for a cease fire, on her own lands!
Alexander drew her back into the shadow of the trees.
“You blackguard,” she spat, the moment his hand moved off her lips. “I have to help them! I helped you.”
Alexander looked at his feet. He was still leaning on the cane, she noticed, and his face was white. He seemed ashamed.
“I ken,” he said. “This is different…these are desperate men.”
“And you weren’t?” she challenged.
“Not like this, no,” he said. “This lot…they’re looking to fight, or tae die. Neither lot will thank ye if ye try to make them stop. I ken. Times when I could have done the same.”
His face had that bitter sadness about it again, and Adeline wondered just what had happened in his past. In any case, he was certainly experienced in skirmishing. She had to agree with him as well. These men fought like animals cornered in a trap – desperation mixed with a sense of nothing to lose.
“I can’t let them kill each other!” she protested, trying one last time to convince him.
He just looked at her. A small smile crossed his lips, briefly, then fell away, replaced with deep sadness.
“Lass, it’s terrible,” he soothed. “But ye cannae help the whole world.”
“I don’t want to,” she said, sounding desperate. “Just these men,” she said.
“Ye would if ye could, lass,” he said gently. “But it’s no’ always possible. Sometimes, ye’ve got tae just help yourself.”
She looked at him and he looked back. His brown eyes held compassion, and seemed to see right into the depths of her. She bit her lip.
“I know,” she said softly.
“Well, then,” he said, reaching out a hand. “Come back wi’ me? Ye saved the farming folk. They’ll be needing your support.”
Adeline nodded. “You’re right. We should go.”
As they walked away from the clearing, she linked her arm with his, both in need of support. A horse screamed a challenge, and she turned back, desperate, to the clearing.
“Stop this nonsense!” a man shouted, authoritative. “Make the road clear! Milord the baron of Danstone requires this!”
Adeline and Alexander both turned. Adeline caught sight of a fellow on a bay horse, and another on a dapple. He had big pale eyes, brownish and a solid chin. He stared at her.
“Milady?”
“Laird McGuide,” she said. She closed her eyes a moment, fully aware of the irony of the situation. It couldn’t have been worse. This was the man her uncle wished her to marry.
She pulled her
arm away from Alexander, but it was too late – far too late. “Welcome to Dunrade,” she said.
The man on the horse stared at her, then looked about the clearing. He blinked, then his big eyes focused on Alexander.
“I am from your uncle’s…and apparently, none too soon,” he said grimly. “Take me to the manse.”
Adeline closed her eyes, wondering what she could possibly do. Beside her, Alexander had taken a step back, as silent now as the clearing itself. The guards who rode with the baron were busy subduing the remaining redcoats with silent efficiency. The only trace of the battle that had waged there was the scent of sulfur, faint and acrid, on the breeze.
Adeline, swallowing hard, turned and led the troop of horsemen back down the road, toward the manor.
“I see I was not misled, then,” the voice continued, flat and toneless, like water dripping on a stone. “Disorder, mayhem…and unsuitable conduct!” He sounded horrified. “I see I will have much to report to your uncle.”
Adeline felt Alexander go stiff. He walked just at her right side, a little in front of her. His back tensed and he stopped.
“Shh,” she whispered, hoping it was soft enough for only him to hear. Ignore it, she willed him. I’m used to it. I can handle this.
She saw him turn and stare up at the baron. His eyes were flinty. She felt her stomach twist as the baron looked back at him. In that moment the air was thick with the promise of death. She cleared her throat. She had to intervene!
“If we hurry,” she said brightly, “you will reach the manse in time for breakfast! It seems you are much earlier than my uncle stated.” She made herself walk forward, leading the way to her home.
“I was in a hurry to get here,” the earl said tightly. “And it seems I was right to be so.”
Adeline let the words wash over her, the constant stream of rebuke, the tallies of how she had failed. She knew he would keep it up all the way to the manor – he was just like Camden. How her uncle gathered such people around him, she had no idea.
The Highlander's Brave Baroness (Blood 0f Duncliffe Series Book 10) Page 7