Amanda Scott (7 page)

“Ye’re a fool right enough, but how do I ken any such thing about Adela? If she encouraged one man, she might
well ha’ encouraged a dozen. She just stood there, did she know? I didna hear a single cry for help from the wicked lass.”

“Because doubtless she, too, thought it was Sir Hugo.”

“Then ’twas wickedness, and she’s come by her just deserts. Ardelve went home a gey sorrowful man without her. Ye’ve yourself to thank for that, too.”

“I doubt he was that sorrowful,” she said. “He showed little joy in his marriage. And without joy, how could there be sorrow?”

“By heaven, almost d’ye persuade me to follow Robison’s advice at once,” Macleod snapped. “Get ye to yon boat, lass, afore I do take a strap to ye.”

Sorcha knew she had pushed him as far as she dared. In general, his threats to his daughters were empty, but she had learned that if she pushed him too far, he would retaliate, and she had no wish to suffer what would amount to public punishment. Just the thought that Sir Hugo might make one of the audience was enough to make her beg her father’s pardon and offer no further argument.

M
acleod walked away, and Sorcha made her way to the wharf. When she heard her name called again, she paused at the side of the path to wait for Sidony.

“You had no chance to eat, so I brought you a manchet loaf and some sliced mutton,” her sister said, handing her a small linen-wrapped packet of food.

“Thank you,” Sorcha said, realizing she was hungry.

“What did Father say to you? He looked so angry, but he did not speak a word to me when he passed me.”

“He
is
angry,” Sorcha said. “I heard two women talking about horsemen with a woman riding pillion near Kinlocheil. One was Lady Clendenen’s friend, Lady Gowrie. I’m sure they are the ones who took Adela, and Lady Gowrie said they were making for Edinburgh. Imagine what could happen to her in such a great town!”

“What?”

“Many things,” Sorcha said darkly. “None of them good.”

“But I thought you wanted to attend the royal court there! When Father said he was going with his grace, did you not say you wished we could go, too?”

“Aye, but those men are not taking Adela to court. They must want her for some viler purpose, or they would not have whisked her off as they did. Evil begets evil, you know. No good ever comes of it.”

“But I don’t understand why Father is angry with you,” Sidony said.

Sorcha just looked at her.

Sidony shrugged. “I know he is angry that you slapped Sir Hugo, because you were wrong to do that, and you know it. But he did provoke you, so if that is all it was, why did Father still look so black just now? Once he vents his anger, he usually becomes docile again. And if you told him that you discovered where they are taking Adela, he should be grateful to you.”

“Aye, well, he’s not,” Sorcha said. “He said that whatever part of it is not my fault, Adela brought on herself. Ardelve is sorrowful, he said, but I wager Ardelve does not want her now. He is certainly not here, or if he is, I’ve not seen him.”

“Nor I,” Sidony admitted. “But mayhap he rode after Adela himself.”

“Lord Pompous? I don’t believe it. He wanted her only because she can run a large household. He won’t bestir himself to fetch her any more than Father will. And like Father, I warrant Ardelve thinks folks are laughing at him.”

“Well, some did cheer her abductors in the kirkyard,”
Sidony reminded her. “Ardelve cannot have enjoyed hearing that. Doubtless, he believed, as we did, that their leader was Sir Hugo and that Adela wanted to go with him.”

Sorcha grimaced. “Siddy, no one is going to stir a step to help her, and I cannot stop hearing that horrid man bellow at me that it is all my fault.”

“That was a wicked thing for him to say! You were only trying to help Adela—and him, too!”

“Even so, I begin to think he spoke the truth.”

“I don’t believe that!”

“What if whoever took her got the idea from hearing about my messages to Sir Hugo? What if it was someone who wants Adela for himself and knew he could not win her? Sakes, what if he just wanted one of the pretty Macleod sisters?”

“But could they have learned about the wedding so easily?” Sidony asked. “You did not set up a hue and cry, after all. You sent messengers only where one might expect to find Sir Hugo. They would not have spoken to just anyone.”

“You know as well as I do that most of Glenelg and nearly every guest knew about it. We made no secret of it, after all, not after you told Adela what I’d done.”

Sidony hung her head. “It just slipped out because she was looking sad. You promised you were not angry with me.”

“I wasn’t, and I’m not. I was going to tell her as soon as I’d had word from him, because I could scarcely
not
tell her. But I thought he would come or reply straightaway, and when he did not, I was afraid he might leave it to the last minute.”

“Aye, many men seem to do that with everything.”

“They do, and I did not want to fling it at her the day before her wedding. When it happened, I was glad we had warned her. And Father is right, you know,” she added. “Adela did not cry out, Siddy, so I’m sure she was glad to believe Sir Hugo had come for her. How could she not have been?”

“She won’t be glad to have found it was someone else, however.”

“She must be terrified. That is why, if no one else will find her, I must.”

“But how can you find her by yourself?”

“I don’t know. But someone simply has to follow them to Edinburgh.”

“Faith, you’ve never even been there! How would you know the way?”

“I’ll ask people, or take someone with me who does know. Father has gillies who have traveled to the lowlands. I’ll take one of them. And I’ve heard that one may stay at friaries or nunneries when traveling a great distance. I’ll do that.”

“But what if the riders Lady Gowrie mentioned were not the right ones?” Sidony said. “What if Adela’s are not going to Edinburgh? Even if they are, you cannot go alone, Sorcha. Father would never allow it. Indeed, you could not do such a thing without hurling yourself to ruination right along with Adela.”

“I don’t care about that, but I shan’t go alone,” Sorcha said. “Did I not say I’d take a good stout gillie? Moreover, I was hoping…” She paused meaningfully.

“Oh, no!” Sidony looked aghast. “You cannot mean to make me go!”

“Will you not aid me in this, Siddy? I was sure that you would.”

“You know I’ll do anything you ask of me. But this is madness, surely. Whatever will Father say? And how do you think we can slip away from Lochbuie? We are to stay there for an entire month.”

“No, we aren’t,” Sorcha said. “At least, I am not. Father is sending me straight home from here in disgrace. You may go to Lochbuie without me, of course, to visit with Cristina and Isobel. But since I cannot go, I mean to rescue Adela even if I do have to do it alone.”

“I could not enjoy myself at Lochbuie without you,” Sidony said, looking sad. “But I doubt I’d like going to Edinburgh in such a reckless way either. Indeed, I do not know what I should do.”

“You never do know,” Sorcha said with a fond smile. “But I won’t try to talk you into something you do not want to do. You’ll have to decide this for yourself.”

“But I cannot ask Father or Cristina for advice, because I know what they will say. Oh, Sorcha, do you not think perhaps Hector Reaganach might rescue her? He is very powerful and commands hundreds of men.”

“But his men serve the Lord of the Isles, as he does,” Isobel said. “Not only will his grace require many of them to accompany him to Edinburgh, but such a force is too vast and important to send after one missing Macleod sister. Nor would Father seek their aid. He is so angry that he is behaving as if Adela arranged this all by herself to inconvenience him. Or, worse, to make him look foolish.”

“Well, I do not know what to say, but I’ll do as you ask me.”

Sorcha shook her head. “When I know the course you
should take, I don’t mind telling you, but don’t you see, Siddy? If you make me decide, you lay all the burden for the consequences on my shoulders. I do have a conscience. I cannot press you to go when I have no way to know what the outcome may be.”

Looking stricken, Sidony said, “If you go, I must go also.”

“Then we must make a plan, and quickly, because Father will order his helmsmen to take us straight to Glenelg. If Adela’s abductors are making for Edinburgh, every mile we travel north will take us farther from her.”

“But do we not have to follow from where we last saw her?”

“To do that would be to have Father on our trail in a trice. For that matter, the abductors are already into their third day of travel, so we would be too far behind ever to catch up with them.”

“Then we cannot do it,” Sidony said, making no effort to hide her relief.

“When one must do a thing, one can always find a way,” Sorcha said firmly. “The trick is to discover it.”

True to his word, Macleod put Sorcha aboard one of the two longboats, and true to hers, Sidony insisted on going with her, as did the maidservant the two shared. When Macleod, as predicted, ordered both boats straight to Glenelg, the only salve to Sorcha’s frustration was Cristina’s pledge to try to persuade him to search for Adela.

“If Isobel and I cannot persuade him,” Cristina said,
“then we will press Hector and Sir Michael to do it. If only we could know who took her!”

That was the rub, Sorcha thought with a sigh as she bade her elder sisters farewell and settled on the larboard-side seat near the high prow of the lead boat. Leaning her head back against the polished wood, she shut her eyes to think.

She could hear Sidony and Una MacIver, their maidservant, talking as the helmsman shouted commands to their oarsmen, but soon all she heard were waves hushing alongside the boat, screams of gannets and gulls overhead, the creaking of the lines holding the mast, and the flapping of the lugsail as men hoisted it.

Their lack of speed seemed at first to be in her favor, because she needed time to plan and feared she would not have enough. The wind still came from the northeast, but now, instead of speeding them along as it had that morning, it seemed determined to push them right back to the Isle of Eigg. Before long, the boat began pitching on larger waves, making it more difficult to think.

Una laughed after a contrary lurch of the boat. Her laugh was a high-pitched squeal, more akin to the screech of a gull than to feminine laughter. Sorcha opened her eyes. The laughter stopped instantly, and Una looked abashed.

“You laugh just like your mother,” Sorcha shouted with a smile over the noise of the wind and the sail. She remembered buxom Bess MacIver fondly.

Una blushed. “Me da says I sound like a corncrake. I didna mean t’ wake ye.”

“I wasn’t sleeping. I was trying to think how we—” She stopped short, scarcely able to breathe as she examined the idea that had so abruptly come to her.

Fixing her gaze on Una, she said, “Your mother and Ranulf now live in North Morar, at Glenancross, do they not?”

“Ye ken fine that they do, m’lady. The mendicant friars bring word o’ them whenever they pass through Glenelg on their way to Eilean Donan.”

“Aye, sure,” Sorcha said, moving to sit beside her so they need not shout.

Sidony, on Una’s other side, eyed her sister warily. “You look as you always look when you are plotting mischief,” she said. “You have a plan.”

“I do,” Sorcha said, leaning across Una to prevent her words from reaching any oarsman’s ears. “Now, listen carefully. I know just what we must do.”