A Highlander In Peril (Gunn Guardsman) (4 page)

BOOK: A Highlander In Peril (Gunn Guardsman)
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She could have laughed at Davy’s disgruntlement, for he was such a cantankerous old man. “You there,” she said to a young guard walking by, “Someone delivered this to my chamber by mistake.”

The young lad shook the hair out of his eyes. “Nay, my lady, none of us had satchels except for Master Jacob for he’d arrived in Edinburg a few days ahead of us. I saw him take his. It was with your belongings.”

“That is strange,” she said, and thanked him.

Frances returned to her chamber and was hesitant to open it. After receiving the harsh messages with reprehensible words, and then the box with the dead flowers … Surely she shouldn’t
open it to see what was inside. But Frances wasn’t a coward, and she thought she could probably figure out who it belonged to.

She turned the clasp on the top and began to open it. An awful smell wafted from within, but she opened the satchel wider. A white garment lay inside. She pulled it out and saw that it was a night-rail, her night-rail. She recognized it because she’d sewn a blue velvet bow on the neckline.

As she held it up, she saw blood smeared all over the front. In shock and horror, she dropped it and ran from the chamber.

Frances took the secret passageway at the end of the hallway to the door and steps that led to the barbican. She stood by the wall encasing the walkway and breathed deeply. The wind whipped fiercely upon the high wall and lashed her hair from its ties.

Whenever she missed Robert or needed to settle herself, she retreated to the walkway  by the crenellation and instantly calmed. She felt as though he was with her and she, closer to him. Her harsh breath and rapid heartbeat came under control, and she sat on a bench where she had a good view of the rolling hills.

Why would someone do this? What kind of message was that? Did someone want to kill her? She couldn’t believe someone sent that, but the really scary thought was that they had gotten in her chamber and had touched her belongings.

Frances hadn’t taken that night-rail when she went to Edinburgh. Whoever wanted to harm or frighten her had been in her chamber when she wasn’t there. Then a really frightening thought came. Could they get inside the keep when she was there?

Gazing at the rolling fields, she saw two men on horses riding over the last hill. She stood and watched them for a few moments.

My betrothed.

“Oh, Robert, I do hope you’ll forgive me. But I am tired of being alone. I’m frightened.” Frances would have accepted any man her uncle recommended even if she balked at marriage.

In this day and age, a woman was open for a harsh life if unwed, and she didn’t want that for her and Ermintrude. If her uncle was indeed dying, she would need to be secure. Her uncle was a good judge of character, and besides now she could write to the queen and have her put the absurdity of marrying Adam Armstrong from her agenda.

Once she calmed, Frances left the walkway and reentered her chamber, and picked the night-ail up and set it inside the satchel. She went and found the few messages that had been sent to her.

As she held them, she tried to reason why someone would want to do such a thing. She’d never hurt anyone and she certainly didn’t have any enemies that she knew of. The missives were despicable in that they mainly called her blasphemous names. They were not signed and nor did they indicate why the person was wrath.

Frances placed the pieces of parchment inside the satchel and took the small box she’d received the dead flowers in, and set them inside too. She hid the satchel in her wardrobe, behind a large covering she used during winter months.

She didn’t know why she just didn’t burn everything in the hearth. For some reason, she wanted to hold on to the items should she ever need them. With the horrid things out of sight, she’d put them out of her thoughts.

Frances now calmed, undressed from her traveling garments and sat on her bedding. The day had been exhausting. To begin with she’d had to see her uncle and learned of her betrothal. And what with Winifred missing … Those matters were far more worrisome for her than someone’s cruel jests.

CHAPTER FOUR

 

 

It was no quip, he’d reached hell. Sean stopped his horse on the rise of the massive field before the Hume castle. The spring warmth soaked the covering of wildflowers with its last rays of the day. He took in the sight of it and tensed. He waited for James to catch up, and when he did, his comrade sidled next to him. In annoyance, Sean flexed his jaw at the remembrance of being there years ago—even if the memory was somewhat vague.

“You’re scowling fiercely, Sean. You sure you want to go inside? There’s still time to change your mind.” James laughed and punched his arm. “We’re here, you might as well find out what he wants.”

He didn’t retort, but stared ahead unsure what he wanted to do. Sean wasn’t about to turn back now, but still he hesitated to move forward. As he studied the fortification, he realized the castle took a good beating likely from many of the border skirmishes.

Being located in such a derogatory position put the castle in the territory of both England and Scotland. The outer walls looked as if they’d been struck with boulders but withstood the fight. Sturdy walls rose about thirty feet high.

He thought he’d seen someone on the upper rampart where the crenellation protected the inner walls. When he glanced back, the person disappeared. They’d been seen and might as well make their presence known before a sentry was sent out.

“Let us ride onward,” Sean said, and kicked his horse’s flanks. “Better to get it over with so we can return home.”

As they approached the castle, several young lads came from a small building near the gatehouse and stood on the other side of the iron postern. A large man walked forward and appeared to be in charge.

“What business do you have here?” The man glared with a look of affront and didn’t seem to want to welcome them given his surly nature. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword and took on an intimidating mien.

Sean was used to such treatment when he visited the border region and he didn’t take offense. Many Scottish border people didn’t know who to give their allegiance to and many didn’t trust highlanders. Being called barbaric only aided them when it came to fighting and so he hadn’t minded their opinion.

He was glad he lived far away from the turmoil and could be at peace most of the time. What he wouldn’t give to be in the Highlands at that moment.

“Sean Gunn to see Lord William,” Sean said after a tense moment of hesitation.

“We expected you long ago. Stay here. I’ll make sure you’re still permitted within.” The man left the gatehouse, walking slowly through the bailey toward the main keep. He took forever returning.

Sean considered leaving for he’d had a few minutes to change his mind. But James kept a serious expression and didn’t speak a word while they waited. James was as intimidating as he was and the gatekeeping lads stood afar from the postern.

James kept his scowl in place but sat relaxed upon his horse. Sean was glad of the reprieve of James’ view though, which was frequently given along the ride.

Finally the guardsman returned. “Come inside. Lads, raise the gate.”

Once the gate was raised high enough, he and James rode through. They dismounted their steeds and the lads started to take them away.

“Keep the gate open and our horses ready. We don’t plan to stay long,” Sean said.

“Aye, very well. Lads, keep the horses tethered by the gatehouse. We’ll only leave the gate open until the bell tolls for supper,” the large man said. “If ye don’t return by then, you’ll have to stay the night.”

Night was coming fast and already the sky darkened and showed the first stars twinkling. Supper would likely be served soon and he didn’t have much time to find out what Lord William wanted.

They were led to the main entry of the castle and left there. Sean wasn’t sure if he should knock on the massive door or wait for someone to come. Obviously the gatekeeper told them he was coming. He noticed the fortification and its grounds well-cared for, and apparently Lord William had wealth enough to keep it maintained.

The door opened with a screech and a man as aged as Saint Andrew cackled and bid them to enter. Sean entered first and James followed. They stood inside the entry, towering over the hunched old servant.

“I’m here to—”

“I know why you’re here. I’m Davy, the caretaker and manservant to Lord William and am privy to all. We expected
ye long ago. What took ye so long?”

Sean felt as though he should apologize given the churlish manner of the old man. “I only received Lord Hume’s missive a week ago. I came straight away.”

“Damned lazy messengers. We pay them too well, shouldn’t reward them. Nay, we shouldn’t. You’re a tall lad, are you not?” His neck craned to look above.

Sean nodded, noting the aged man bent likely from years weakening his bones, for he barely reached his chest. The man had a way about making one feel subordinate and Sean felt like apologizing again for making the old man crane his neck.

“Is Lord William within? I’d like to speak with him and be on my way.” He kept his tone free of ire lest he upset the old man further.

“Aye, he isn’t going anywhere soon. I’ll take you to him. Follow me.”

The man shuffled at a slow pace, Sean barely had to move his feet to keep up with him. It seemed as though an hour passed before they reached the stairs to the upper floors.

“Sir, why don’t you just tell me which door to enter?
I can find my own way.” Impatience wore on him and Sean was eager to get the visit over.

Davy hooted and grinned, a gap showing where one of his front teeth should be. “I was hoping you’d say that, my lord. Be the first door on your right at the top of the stairs. Your man can await here. I’ll have refreshment brought.”

“I’m not his man,” James said with affront. “And you can tell me where the kitchens are. I can see to myself.”

“Good and well, my lords, I am not wont to gallivant about the castle.” The aged man went into a fit of coughing.

Sean thought he’d fall down. He took the frail man’s arms and helped him to a lone chair at the bottom of the stairs. He gave a sharp look at James. “I’ll return shortly. Don’t go anywhere.”

As he ascended the stairs, he thought someone was watching him. An eerie sense came over him. He took the steps two at a time and found no one there on the landing. He dismissed the oddness and continued on. Sean reached the door within seconds and he knocked. No one answered, so he turned the handle and entered.

His eyes went right to the bed where three women stood around it. Sean approached cautiously, not wishing to disturb them. Lord William coughed and flailed his arms. Briefly he wasn’t certain who was attacking whom. But then he heard Lord William.

“Be gone, you insufferable women! I won’t drink that nasty brew. Take it away.” Lord William’s eyes found his and he stared for a few seconds before he spoke.
“Sean, ‘tis you. Aye, lad, come. I am gladdened you finally arrived. Women, leave us.”

The women left the chamber at once, and Sean stood near the man’s bedside. He looked aged, but not so much that he should be bedridden. All his hair hadn’t even grayed and the few wrinkles on his face barely noted a great age.

“I haven’t seen ye in a few years, not since the treaty meeting Laird Gunn attended. You look well. The years been good to ye.” Lord William closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath.

“Are you unwell? Your missive didn’t say, but being that you’re bedridden … Shall I return later, another time?”

“Nay, come closer so I don’t have to raise my voice. I need to speak with you. I’ve much to say, Sean. There is no time. Pull the chair here, so we can talk.”

“Lord William, I don’t know why you asked me here, but my laird bid me to come and here I am. Say what you wish to say so I may be on my way.” Sean pulled the chair nearby and sat.

“You’re angry. I expected that. You dislike me because of my treatment toward your mother, aye?”

Sean nodded. He sat still, but inside he raged with emotions.
“Mayhap.”

“I did banish your mother from returning when she wed your father. I regretted it from that very day. Aye, I never saw her again, but once, and she wouldn’t forgive me. Then … she died. I was sorry for my angry words to her, regretted them.”

“It does not change things, Lord William.”

“Nay I suppose it doesn’t. Still, I would make it up to her even now.
Which is why I asked you to come. I have no son or daughter to inherit my lands or title. I wish to give all that I have to you.”

Sean frowned and held onto the chair with a grip that stiffened his arms. He wasn’t sure how he felt about what Lord William told him. “Why? You surely could have either Scotland’s or England’s
king gift it to a knight in their service.”

Lord William began coughing. He gasped and flailed his hand in the air as if to say stay seated.
“Nay. I wish one of my kin take control. Why should the king or some unknown knight gain my wealth? I never meant to hurt your mother, but I did so, and as you said, I cannot change that now.”

“You wish me to stay here and take control of your land and property?” Sean was aghast. He’d only ever lived on Gunn land and never considered living anywhere else.

“Sean, lad, I’m dying and it is my last wish that you take my place here. I haven’t much time, days mayhap. I need your promise to inherit and …” He gasped again, his breath coming harshly.

He handed Lord William a cup, but the man wouldn’t take it. “You ask me to leave the life I have. I’ll need to consider this.”

“There is no time, lad. I must have your promise. And there is something else.”

Sean stood. He couldn’t help it. The situation called for pacing and he did so beside the old lord’s bed. He took three steps toward the end and three steps back. He didn’t know what to think of this let alone consider becoming a laird.

“What else?” He kept his gaze on the old man’s eyes, trying to read his sincerity.

“I set a betrothal in place.”

Sean balked as he turned and headed for the door.

“Wait! Come back, lad. I wasn’t finished.”

He couldn’t disrespect the dying man and so he took a deep breath. “Lord William, you ask too much. I will not be coerced into wedding your choice. When I take a wife it will be of my own doing.”

“I’ve thought on that, lad. You will get a chance to meet her. She’s a dear lady who is under my care. I’m her guardian. For her father and I were great friends.
A lovelier lass you cannot find. Fancy has the heart of an angel. You are verily stubborn like your mother.”

“Mayhap I am as stubborn as my mother. Had she not a reason to be? None of this was expected, Lord William. I am not sure I can be what you want of me.” Sean’s stomach felt as though it dropped out of him. He swallowed hard and tried to comprehend what was happening.

“You’re much like your father, too. He was reserved, modest, and was a fine man. But I learned that too late. I wish to repay my debt to your mother and father. It is my last wish to make amends. Will ye deny me the right to meet my maker without fault?”

Sean couldn’t say. Who was he to dissuade the man from making peace? And yet he verily wished he could.

“I’ll have you take your rightful place here. I ask that you wed Fancy. She needs a strong man like ye are. I cannot die until I arrange for her care and all that I have is yours.”

Sean’s stomach twisted and his heart tensed. None of what the old lord said made sense. He needed air. The chamber closed in on him and he felt stifled.

“You must accept both in order to receive the inheritance, Sean. For there’s a great fortune here, and a powerful position many men would envy. But aye, you must also accept Fancy. That is the covenant.”

“I will return later and will let you know my decision.” Sean nodded to Lord William and left the chamber before he could stop him. He stood outside the door for a few seconds, shocked at what had been told to him.

When he mustered up the courage, he bounded down the stairs and went through the front door. James followed and tried to ask what happened, but Sean kept walking, his strides long. He didn’t stop until he reached the field outside the walls of the keep and stood watching the moon rise.

“What the hell is going on?” James reached him and pulled his arm to get him to look at him.

“You’re not going to believe this. I deem I’ve reached hell.”

James laughed. “Hell? Surely you’re exaggerating, Sean. What happened?”

Sean took his sword from his scabbard and began hacking at the tall blades of grass around him. It felt good to inflict his wrath on something. “Lord William wants me to become laird here, wants to give me his land and wealth.”

James whistled. “What? You’re jesting with me, Sean.”

“Nay, I’m not. He deems it will make up for what he did to my mother.”

“Will it?” James asked.

“I don’t know,” Sean said, whipping at the grass, cutting great lengths of it with his ire. “I wouldn’t mind that because he should make amends, but he wants me to wed his ward.”


Cosh! Aye? Truly? Imagine that. You, Laird Hume. Never would have thought you’d be laird of anything. And you’re to wed too? Have you seen her? Is she comely with good-sized bosoms? I suppose you threw it back and said nay like a fool?” James guffawed and couldn’t seem to stop.

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