Authors: Ladys Choice
Therefore—or so Hugo hoped—Waldron would continue to lead them toward the battleground of his choosing, a battleground much nearer to Edgelaw than to the Highlands. They were only fifteen miles or so from Lochearnhead and could make Edinburgh in two days’ time. From there it was less than ten miles south to Roslin Castle, where Hugo would find not only his aunt, the formidable Isabella, Countess of Strathearn and Caithness, but his father, as well. Sir Edward Robison would be at Roslin now, making preparations for the important gathering that they and the Sinclairs had arranged to coincide with the spring removal of the King of Scots’ court from Stirling to Edinburgh.
Both Isabella and Sir Edward would provide him with
advice, Roslin would provide at least some of the reinforcements he needed, and Isabella would know exactly how to deal with the irrepressible Lady Sorcha.
Accordingly, he said, “In truth, lass, what damage your sister’s reputation has suffered cannot be undone or worsened by traveling with me and my men. But we have other things to consider, for although we were able to travel at speed, thanks to Hector Reaganach’s horses, we’ll be slower now unless we can find fresh mounts for you three. I’m thinking we’re more likely to find horses ahead than behind, though. And I agree that dividing my men would be to our disadvantage.”
“Aye, sure,” she said, nodding.
He went on, “I had not expected to find you so close to the abductors, but they still outdistance us by at least a day and will doubtless continue to do so. I think our best course is to continue following them without trying to engage them yet. We are but two days from Edinburgh, so the sensible course is to press on.”
He sounded too glib, he knew, but she lacked his experience and, he hoped, the ability to understand an enemy’s tactics or strategy. In any event, he was not going to share his thoughts with her about Waldron and the treasure he sought.
Sorcha felt only relief. Something in Hugo’s expression told her that her arguments alone had not persuaded him, but at least he had listened to her when many men would not have. Certainly, her father would not.
Feeling more in charity with him than she had since meeting him, she said, “I’ll fetch Sidony so we can be on our way.”
As she moved to pass him, however, he stopped her with a firm hand on her shoulder, stirring a prickling of unease that his next words did nothing to dispel.
“One moment, my lady, we have not finished our talk.”
She looked at him. “I cannot think what more we have to say.”
“Only this, lass. Do not press me too far. I am not your father, nor do I always follow the rules of civil behavior. Too often, in a crisis, such rules get in the way, and if we are to travel together, you will be wise to understand that. If you defy me, I will have no more compassion or consideration for you or your sensibilities than I would for any disobedient lad under my command.”
“What would you do?”
“What do you think I would do?” His startling blue gaze met hers again, rekindling that odd, unfamiliar sensation inside. For a brief, crazy moment, she felt a compelling urge to defy him, to discover exactly what he would do. Then, in a blink, she decided she would be wiser to leave well enough alone, at least as long as she was still dressed as the lad to which he had just compared her.
She knew what her father did to disobedient lads. He ordered them flogged.
So instead of provoking him further, she said, “If I knew what you would do, I would not have asked. Still, I know I would not like it, so I will strive to remember all you have said to me.”
“See that you do,” he said with a look that seemed to
pierce through her. Glancing over his shoulder, he added, “Your sister is coming.”
She peered past him to see Sidony some distance down the path, hurrying toward them. She looked frightened.
“Pray, sir, do not terrify her. She fears you, and none of this was her doing. She accompanied me only because she could not bear to let me come alone.”
“Something you doubtless counted on,” he retorted. “If you feel no shame for anything else you have done, you should feel some for endangering her.”
“She has not been in danger,” Sorcha said. “Nor would I do that.”
“Would you have me believe you witless?” he demanded, frowning heavily enough to stir the hairs on the back of her neck again. “Despite your recklessness, I have given you credit for integrity. But either you are deluded or you have not given a moment’s thought to all that you have done.”
“Helping Adela is all that counts,” she said stiffly. “Nothing else matters.”
“I recommend that you consider the nature of the men you follow.”
“I know naught of them but that they captured her.”
“Exactly, so you know they believe they had reason to abduct at least one Macleod sister,” he said. “You also know that they are even more daring and reckless than you are.”
“Don’t call me reckless,” she snapped. “I have taken great care.”
“Aye, sure, and how did you know when you stopped here that they were not camped in these very woods?”
“But they weren’t here anymore!” she said as Sidony silently joined them.
“You didn’t know that, and they could have been,” he replied, paying Sidony no heed. “Had they been here, what was to prevent them from adding two more Macleod sisters to their string, like fishermen taking fish from the sea?”
She glowered at him. “You won’t frighten me with fairy tales, sir, but you are frightening Sidony, and I want you to stop.”
Sidony said in a tremulous tone, “But, Sorcha, what if they had been here?”
“Don’t let him scare you, love,” Sorcha said, forcing calm into her voice despite wanting to shriek like an alewife at Hugo for his thoughtlessness. “If they had still been camped here, the good folk of the clachan would have warned us when we arrived. Only recall how quickly the old man told us they had been here.”
“That’s true, sir,” Sidony said, looking at Hugo. “He told us straightaway that strangers had camped here, and he told us how many there were. I assure you, had they still been here, we would have left at once.”
Sorcha could see that he had to fight to retain his calm, but his tone revealed little of his annoyance when he said quietly to Sidony, “My lady, we are all going to leave shortly, so I would count it a favor if you would go and ask your lad to show my men where they can water their horses.”
“Is Sorcha not coming, too?”
“Aye, we will all go, but I have something more to say to her before we do, so if you would be so kind…” He smiled at her, gently lifting his eyebrows.
Without hesitation, she smiled back and said, “Aye, sir, I’ll tell Rory.”
“Whilst you’re about it,” he added, “see if the women in the clachan have more appropriate clothing they would be willing to lend you and your sister. These garments are none too clean.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, smiling more widely yet. “That would be that dreadful manure. We tried to clean it off, but the smell just clings, so I’ll be
glad
to do that.”
“Tell me about the dreadful manure,” he said as they watched her hurry off.
Sorcha shrugged. “We helped a man and his wife carry away the old thatch from their roof and mix it with the pile near their byre.”
“I see,” he said. “And you did this because of your generous hearts?”
“We did it because we had asked them for food. Not that we could have objected, of course, not without revealing that we were females.”
When he chuckled, she muttered a few choice words.
“What was that you said?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said, promising herself that she would explain to Sidony that artless prattle and blind obedience were not what would serve them best with this man. “I am sure your men could find water for their horses without Rory’s aid, and the women here probably have no more clothes than those on their backs. In any event, Bess bundled our other clothes, so we could wear those if we had to.”
“If you mean the dresses you wore to his grace’s installation, they won’t do. I don’t want you looking like noblewomen.”
“She’ll do as you bade her,” Sorcha said. “She always does. But you sent her off so you could speak to me,” she added. “What more can you have to say?”
He grew stern again as he said, “I warned you about challenging me. I have restrained myself, but do not think in future that your sister’s presence will protect you if you speak to me as you did just before she joined us. I did not suggest that the villains might want more than one Macleod sister just to scare you.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Have a care,” he warned. “I will not lie to you. I may not always tell you all I know, but I won’t lie. I cannot deny that I’d hoped my words would frighten you, and I readily admit I’d not have spoken as I did had I remembered the lady Sidony was likely close enough by then to hear me, but—”
“But she did hear you,” she interjected.
“Aye, she did, but the brutal truth is that if the man we follow is who I think he is, he seeks revenge against several people. He believes he can do as he wants with impunity and will not care how many Macleod sisters he hurts in the process.”
“Who is he?”
Ignoring her, he said, “If you had stumbled on this clachan before he and his men had left it, no old man’s warning would have protected you. Moreover, he probably knows exactly who is following him and how close you are. Had he chosen to stay here longer, he would have been waiting for you, and you would have had no way to defend yourself.”
She shivered but said staunchly, “How can you know that? Indeed, how can you know anything about him?”
“He is my cousin,” Hugo said. “He was born out of wedlock in France, but I have known him since he was fourteen, when he came here. I was eleven.”
“Faith, are you in league with him?” she demanded.
Hugo was beginning to read her better, and he knew he had succeeded in frightening her a little, even shocking her, but despite the fact that such emotions might make her more tractable and thus suit his purpose better than the truth, he could not let her think he might be an ally of Waldron’s.
“Nay, lass,” he said. “In truth, I cannot even say for certain that he is leading that band of ruffians.”
“Then, how dare you—?”
Her hand flashed up, but he caught it easily and held it tight.
“Nay, you wee skelpie,” he said. “You’ll not strike me again.”
“You said you’d never lie to me,” she said through her teeth.
“Nor have I.” When her jaw remained tense, he realized he was hurting her and eased his grip without releasing her hand.
“You said you know him, that he is your cousin.”
“I said
if
he is the man I believe him to be, he is my cousin.”
“But you don’t know!”
“I have no proof,” he said. “I’m as sure as I can be, though.”
“Why?”
“I had a dream,” he said reluctantly, knowing he could not adequately explain his certainty that the dream’s message was true.
He expected another burst of temper, but she only frowned and said, “What sort of dream?”
He found it surprisingly easy to describe it for her, much easier than describing it to Michael. She listened with an intensity he had rarely noted in anyone, male or female, and when he described the moment Waldron had stepped aside to reveal Adela, she nodded with a satisfied air.
“A truly striking dream, sir. I warrant Adela was trying to reach out to you, and somehow you connected with her thoughts in the dream world.”
“My cousin Michael said it was more likely the result of too much brogac after supper, or mayhap, at best, merely ordinary logic,” he said.
“But why would it be logical to suspect that another of your cousins had taken Adela?” she asked.
“In truth, it would not be, since we both thought he was dead.”
“Dead! But when did he die?”
“Last summer,” Hugo said, anticipating both her next question and her likely reaction to the answer.
“How did he die?”
“Your sister Isobel pushed him off the ramparts of Roslin Castle into the river North Esk,” he said, watching her.
“Isobel! But why?”
“She had good reason,” Hugo said. “I’ll tell you about it another time, but I think we had better go now. I warrant the lady Sidony will have found suitable clothing
for you both by now. I don’t want anyone thinking I’ve encouraged you to ride about the countryside in those disreputable garments.”