“What is it, lad?” he asked.
“It’s the baron,” Tam explained. “I…overheard him, talking to Uncle. He’s planning something.”
“Like what?”
“It’s something to do with the road west,” he said carefully. “Between here and Duncliffe. They’re planning an ambush.”
“I saw nothing…” Alexander started in. Tam nodded.
“I don’t think they’ve started yet,” Tam cut in. “I don’t think they can. Uncle is still traveling back to his estate in the northwest. They won’t do anything until he gets there.”
“He’s left, again?” Alexander wanted to know.
“This morning,” Tam confirmed. “I got word to you as soon as I could.”
“Thanks, lad,” Alexander nodded. He was grateful that he’d been at Duncliffe at the time – it was quite serendipitous that he had been.
“Thank you, Alexander,” the youth said quietly. “I don’t know what Mama and I would have done, without you.”
“Don’t mention it,” he said, meaning it. “I’m just glad I could be here, is all.”
“I am, too.”
Tam placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding him the long way from the stables round the back of the house. Alexander paused as he went to the door in the wall – the one Barra used – and opened it.
“It’s best if we use this door,” he said, gesturing for Alexander to do as he had done, and go inside through it. “This side of the house is certainly not watched.”
“I see,” Alexander frowned, closing the door behind them. Inside, they were in almost pitch dark, the servant’s hallway lit only by the distant flickering of a lamp.
“It’s dark in here,” he observed, squinting through the gloominess at Tam, who nodded.
“Something’s going on here,” he admitted. “Something else. The servants have been complaining. Things aren’t being delivered – food, lamp oil. The kitchen’s not well stocked. I don’t understand it. I confronted McInnes, about it.”
“What did he say?” Alexander asked, recalling with a grim look the unpleasant steward.
“He said it was most irregular, and he’d look into it. He assured me he has been doing his job, and showed me the books,” Tam frowned. “I read through them, and all is in order. I could see marks, where Mama had tallied them herself. It all seemed fine.”
“I see,” Alexander frowned. He didn’t trust McInnes. The fellow had spoken far too rudely to Adeline, that day he’d been in the sick room and she’d impulsively slapped him.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” Tam said. He was pale and his eyes were troubled. “I need somebody here, to trust.”
“Well, I don’t know what I can do, lad,” he said gently. “But I can try. And you can trust me – I’ll not let ye down on purpose.”
“I know, Alexander,” he said gently. “You’re a good sort. Always thought so.”
Alexander grinned at the younger man. “Thanks,” he said. “You too.”
They shared a gentle smile.
Alexander heard somebody open a door and tensed, then glanced to Tam.
“We should go,” the younger man agreed. “Come on. We’ll go upstairs. The fewer people know we come down here, sometimes, the better.”
“I agree,” Alexander said. He walked up the steps behind Tam, wondering if he would need to use the hidden door, the dark corridor, one day.
They closed the door into the dark space, stepping out into the upper hallway of the house. Alexander looked around, blinking in daylight.
“Well, lad?” he frowned. Future baron or not, the word came naturally to his lips. And, to be fair, his young companion never complained.
“Well, I can try and find out what is going on with the accounts,” Tam acknowledged. “And, mayhap, you could follow McGuide, when he goes northwest tomorrow? I don’t trust him.”
“Me neither,” Alexander acknowledged.
“Well, then.” Tam ran a hand across his hair, in that moment looking exactly like Lady Adeline. He turned to Alexander, looking wearily up. “Shall we go? I’m a poor host. I can offer you luncheon?”
Alexander felt his stomach clench with wanting.
“Thanks,” he said. “That’d be grand.”
Tam led him down to a small room, some kind of waiting room near an office. There he shut the door gently behind him.
“I’ll have lunch brought to us here,” he promised. “It’s safer here – the baron won’t think to come down here, to find me.”
“Grand,” Alexander affirmed.
While they ate, Tam gave a summary report of all that had happened while Alexander had been away. He listened, eating stew and bannocks, and tried not to let his worries for Adeline overwhelm him.
Be safe, he thought. His mind was with her, where she lay in bed at Duncliffe Manor. He knew she was in safe hands, but he couldn’t help worrying – fevers were tricky things, and she had already been so weakened.
“And so,” Tam was ending, “I need to stay here, and seem to keep everything in order. Or Uncle will make sure Mama and I are disinherited.”
“What?” Alexander stared at him, horrified.
“Well,” Tam said slowly. “He said that the state of the manor was such that he could no longer entrust it to our guidance. And McInnes – when he’d come out of a meeting with Uncle – said things were worse than I thought.”
Alexander nodded, and cleared his throat, about to say something. Suddenly, Tam gave a cry.
“McInnes!” he said. “What was he doing there? Uncle was talking to merchants, and McInnes was snooping about, insisting on speaking to them alone. And he and Uncle spent a long time in a meeting together. There was no cause for it!” He stared.
“You think…”
“I think McInnes has not been in our sole pay for quite a while,” Tam said. His face was hard. In that moment, he could have been ten years older than his years.
“I see,” Alexander nodded. It tallied with what little he knew of the man – a fellow presumptuous above his duty.
“Well,” Tam was pushing back his chair, lunchtime over. “I can make sure that side of the matter is investigated. I need you to take care of the rest, though.”
“The rest,” Alexander agreed. At his side, the dagger felt oddly lighter, and he itched to take it in his hand. He knew Tam was giving him leave to use it, if he felt it necessary. In his heart, he hoped there was another way.
Not that I don’t think the blackguard was begging for a knife in the back.
He recalled seeing the fellow grab Adeline, recalled the fear and rage on her face as she tried to break his grasp. He would enjoy seeing to it that the baron was quietly disposed of.
All the same, he knew it was a matter for last resorts.
“Well,” he sighed, hauling himself stiffly to his feet. He felt dizzy for a moment, steadying himself against the wall. He was exhausted.
“Not as exhausted as she is,” he told himself crossly. He walked, stiff legged, up the stairs.
“I’ve had a room made up for you,” Tam whispered as he passed him on the stairwell. “In the attic. I can’t be too careful – the baron mustn’t know you’re here.”
“Aye, lad,” he agreed.
He found his own way to the attic, and half fell into the room that had been prepared for him. He lay down on the bed and, before he could stop himself, he had sunk into an exhausted, dreamless sleep. He woke the next morning with a horrible thought gripping his imagination. The northwest road was dangerous. Adeline, if she knew where he had gone, would want to ride it.
A JOURNEY
Adeline tried to make herself sit still on the settee in the parlor. Her restless spirit fought at the confines. She wanted to stand, to pace, to scream against the genteel silence of the twilit house until it broke. Her fever had stopped, but after it her heart had broken and there was no end to her need to scream her pain.
Opposite her, Lady Marguerite gave her a worried frown.
/> “Adeline, dear…shall I ask Merrick for a tisane to calm you? You look distressed.”
“I don’t need a tisane,” Adeline murmured, feeling her hands clench into fists where they lay, rigid, at her sides. She was worried about Alexander. She was furious with Alexander. More than anything, she missed Alexander.
“Well, I’m sorry,” Marguerite said, sounding offended. “I didn’t mean any insult.”
“Thanks, Marguerite,” she added, noticing how distressed her friend was now. “I know you didn’t mean any harm in it. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t fret,” Marguerite said gently. “Would you like to talk to my bonny Alexandra? She’s just started taking an interest in drawing. She’ll probably want to draw you.”
Alexandra was a dear child, now three years old. Adeline loved children, and was especially fond of the little girl. Right now, though, her nerves wouldn’t be able to take the activities of a little child.
“She’s an angel…But I really don’t know if I could face any high spirited fun right now. Sorry, Marguerite…” She sniffed.
Suddenly, it was too hard to conceal her fears and care. Alexander had disappeared so suddenly! She had no idea why he’d had to leave so soon. She suspected he regretted everything, that his big secret was a deception.
He just wants a good way to get out of the choice he took so foolishly. To leave me.
She tried to stop her tears, but found there was no way she could hold them back. Sniffing, she covered her face with her hands and sobbed.
She felt a soft push against her ribs and Marguerite sat down beside her, wrapping her arms around her fondly.
“There, there!” Marguerite said, patting her arm, rocking her as if she, not Alexandra, were the bairn. “It’s not so bad.”
“Oh, but Marguerite,” Adeline said. “Where is he? What happened?”
“Alexander?” Marguerite frowned.
Adeline nodded. “You don’t…know,” she sobbed. “You don’t know how we…”
She trailed off. She had told nobody of her alliance with the man. She couldn’t bring herself to voice it, feeling, still, that she would bring shame to Tam. She couldn’t even find words to tell this, her friend.
“I might be silly sometimes,” Marguerite said slowly, “and unobservant. But I know about love. And you and Alexander…well, let me say there are some things a person can hide. And a love that big is obvious.”
“I…what?” Adeline dropped her handkerchief. Stared at Marguerite.
Marguerite grinned, though it was an expression that held some sorrow in the heart of it.
“Adeline, my sweet friend. You are good at hiding things, but Alexander isn’t. Do you think I wasn’t aware of how he looked at you? From the first, I saw.”
“Really?” Adeline sniffed. She stared at her friend. She was astounded. Despite herself, she was also curious. “You mean…how, Marguerite?”
Her friend tipped back her head, amused. “It was obvious! He listened after your every word, followed each move you made with his eyes. He looked at you the way a man looks at a woman. I saw it from the first moment you brought him here. How could you think I hadn’t?”
“Really?” Adeline was astonished. She blew her nose and leaned back, feeling a strange warmth flow through her. “You noticed, then?”
“Of course.” Marguerite was laughing, now. “Adeline! You know sometimes I wonder about you. You’re so clever, so observant. And yet, I think you barely noticed it, at first.”
“I didn’t,” Adeline confirmed. “I didn’t think anyone would…look at me…that way. Not again.”
“Adeline!” Marguerite giggled. “My dearest friend! I must inquire – do you have mirrors, in the manor?”
Adeline grinned at her friend, despair dissolving momentarily. She squeezed her hand, warmly.
“You know,” she said fondly. “I should have known you’d notice. You say you’re silly, but really? You’re one of the more astute people I know.”
“Really?” It was Marguerite’s turn to look surprised. “You think so?”
Adeline covered her friend’s hands with hers. “You really are, Marguerite. And kind! I don’t know anybody I could have relied on as I have you. I cannot thank you enough. And thank you too for…for saying that. I really didn’t know he cared about me.”
Marguerite smiled. “You know now,” she said gently. “Was that why you cried?”
“Sort of,” Adeline confessed, a smile twisting her face.
“Adeline!” Marguerite chuckled. “For all your wisdom, you can be awfully silly – at least, where yourself is concerned.”
Adeline made a face. “I know, now.”
“Well,” Marguerite frowned after a long moment. “Now that you know, what will you do?”
“Do?”
“About Alexander,” Marguerite said slowly. “He’s somewhere, Heaven alone knows, and he needs you.”
Adeline sighed. “Does he?”
“Yes.”
Adeline looked at Marguerite. Big brown eyes held her own.
“Adeline, he loves you more than he understands how to express. I’ve seen this sort of thing before. I recognize it.”
Adeline felt her own lips twist regretfully. “I have not seen it before,” she said quietly. “Nobody – that is, no man – has ever loved me, before now.” Saying it, hurt.
Marguerite squeezed her hand, fondly. “I know you’ve had great sadness in your life,” she said gently. “But it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve something wonderful. You have been granted a rare love. Let’s go and find him.”
Adeline stared at her.
Marguerite grinned. “It’s about time I had an adventure,” she said. “With Douglas away on the border, I’m craving a chance to get out of these four walls.”
Adeline giggled, shocked and amazed by her friend’s wild suggestion. “You really think we can just…follow him?”
“Of course,” Marguerite nodded. “You go upstairs and pack. I’m going to the kitchen to find out if anybody knows where he went.”
Adeline nodded and headed swiftly upstairs to make ready. She was just finishing packing her bag when she heard a knock at the door. She opened it.
“Adeline?” Her friend’s eyes shone. “I have news.”
“What?”
“He went to Dunrade! I heard it from a stable hand, who overheard him talking to a lad who came from there.” Her friend beamed.
Adeline stared at her, horrified. “Why?” He couldn’t go back there! If he showed up there, the baron would kill him!
Marguerite frowned. “Is there a reason why he shouldn’t…?”
“Marguerite. He can’t go there. I can’t explain why,” she added, shaking her head as her friend began to ask a question. “He just can’t. And I can’t stay here and let him go…”
She felt her heart start to thud. Her mind fed her horrible possibilities. He’d been gone a day now. He was already there, for sure. He could be in grave danger! Wounded, beaten…already dead.
I have to go.
“Well, if he’s in danger, all the more reason for us to find him,” Marguerite nodded briskly. “We’ll have the coach ordered for first light. I’ll ask Merrick to make us a picnic breakfast. Now, the best we can do now is rest. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
Adeline nodded. “Yes,” she said, voice subdued. “We’ll leave tomorrow.”
As soon as her friend was gone, she lifted her bag from the seat by the dressing table, donning her riding cloak. She couldn’t wait now. Holding her breath, she tiptoed down to the stables before anybody could miss her.
“I can’t wait until tomorrow morning.”
She knew this was dangerous beyond anything she’d ever considered before. However, what was her danger, compared to the danger Alexander faced? He was a wounded, unarmed man, riding to battle with a man who had an entire household at his disposal. She thought then of the cache of weapons Camden had left in the study. McGuide could kill him as easily as
breathing.
Tiptoeing into the courtyard, she made a choice. She was going to ride to Dunrade. Tonight.
A twig cracked somewhere near the gate. Adeline froze. Holding her breath, she waited while a guardsman headed up from the gate towards the main door. Molding to the shadows of the wall, she drew in slow breaths, making her way through the evening toward the stables.
The stables were lit, still, from within. A lantern burned in one of the stalls. Adeline paused at the entrance, heart thudding.
“Whist, ye wee whippersnapper,” she heard, drifting from one of the stalls. “You’ve made a right mess o’ that, haven’t you?”
“I didn’t,” she heard a youthful voice reply. It sounded defiant.
“Well, you’ll just have tae stay and clean it, then,” the older voice said, levelly.
“But, Mr. Bates, I didn’t…”
“Whist, lad,” the older man said, gruffly. “It’ll take ye an hour at most. And then ye can come and have dinner with the rest of us. Now, get on with the job, eh?”
“Aye, Mr. Bates.”
Adeline bit her lip. She held her breath and tried not to move. Somebody was coming along the walkway between the stalls toward her.
A heavily built fellow blundered down the path and almost walked into her. She froze.
“And mind ye do a good job!” he yelled at the unseen occupant of the stall with the lamp. “I’ll not have to send Alec tae do it after ye again.”
“Aye, Mister.”
Adeline waited until the burly fellow left, then crept towards the source of the light. She frowned in consternation. A young man was there, polishing a saddle. He was intently focused on his work, though, and with some luck she could gather the tack she needed. She tiptoed in.
“And I hope something bad happens to ye,” the youth was muttering, clearly furious at Mr. Bates, the overseer. “And that I get some supper.”
Adeline felt her knees stiffen as she walked in through the door. Her shoe scuffed and she froze.
The boy tensed, and stopped work. Adeline, terrified, leaned back against the door, thinking frantically. What would she say, if he saw her?
The Highlander's Brave Baroness (Blood 0f Duncliffe Series Book 10) Page 18