Captured by a Laird (34 page)

“We only found it because of Jasper,” Margaret piped up. “He ran into Father’s old chamber, and that’s where the hidden door is.”

The girls never would have gone into the laird’s chamber when their father was alive. In the ten years Alison had lived in Blackadder Castle, she had been in that room hundreds of times, but never a moment longer than she had to.

“Where exactly is this secret door?” Alison asked.

“In the wall, behind where the bed was.” Beatrix went to explain how they had been trying to catch the puppy, and she dove for him and fell against the wall. “The bottom stone behind the tapestry moved, so I stood up and kicked it.”

That was so like Beatrix.

“We felt cold air, so we crawled behind the tapestry,” Beatrix continued. “And there it was. An opening in the wall, just our size.”

“Is it big enough for me to fit through?” Brian asked.

“I think so,” Margaret said, tilting her head back to take in his full height, “if ye mind your head.”

“Where does this tunnel come out?” Alison asked.

“By the river,” Beatrix said, “not far from where we had our picnic.”

“The Blackadders were watching to make certain we left the area, and we needed to get these lassies to safety,” Brian said. “But after dark, I’ll take some men and go back.”

“Wait,” Alison said, and turned to her daughters. “Did ye tell Patrick how ye left the castle?”

Both girls shook their heads.

“I told him everything else,” Beatrix said. “But I knew the tunnel was a verra important secret, so I lied about how we left.”

“Good,” Patrick said. “We’ll sneak in through the tunnel tonight and have our laird and the castle back by morning.”

“Ye can’t,” Beatrix said, her shoulders slumping. “The tunnel is only for coming out, not going in.”

“Why do ye say that?”

“We got scared in the tunnel and tried to turn back,” she said, “but the secret door closed behind us and wouldn’t open.”

“Probably the lassies weren’t strong enough to open it. I’ll sneak back on my own now and check,” Brian said, then turned to Beatrix. “Ye must try to tell me exactly where ye came out of the tunnel. It must be well hidden.”

“I can show ye,” Beatrix said.

“Nay,” Brian said. “David was verra clear that I was to bring ye to Hume Castle and keep ye here.”

“Bea is good at drawing,” Will said and ran to fetch a charred piece of kindling from the hearth.

***

It was late afternoon before Brian returned. Alison knew from his defeated expression that he had not succeeded. She drew him and Robbie into a corner of the hall where they could speak alone.

“I found the tunnel. My guess is it hasn’t been used since the time of our grandfathers’ grandfathers. ’Tis narrow, with piles of loose rock and debris. I reached the door, but the lassies are right. There’s no way to open it without breaking through the stone wall, which would take time and cause a great deal of noise.”

“What we need is a man on the inside,” Robbie said. “Perhaps we can bribe one of their men to open the tunnel door.”

“He’d take our coin and betray us,” Brian said. “Then we’d have all the Blackadders waiting for us as we came out of the tunnel.”

The two argued ideas back and forth, but the answer was obvious to Alison.

“I can get inside,” she interrupted. “Patrick will let me in. I’ll find the door and open it for the rest of ye.”

This was a far better plan than her original vague notion of going in and somehow getting David out by herself.

“Nay,” Robbie said, folding his arms just like David. “Ye can’t do it. ’Tis far too dangerous.”

“I’m the only one who can,” she said. “Patrick won’t let anyone else in, and ye both know it.”

“David would never agree to let ye put yourself into that man’s clutches,” Brian said. “Wait for your brothers and let them persuade Patrick to release him.”

“I waited for my brothers once. I’ll not wait again,” she said, and stood up. “I’m going to save my husband.”

One of the Hume men ran into the hall and called out, “There are riders coming, Lady Alison. Can ye come tell us if they’re Douglases?”

Had she misjudged Archie and George? She hurried out of the keep and climbed the ladder to stand on the wall. Despair weighed down her shoulders when she saw the riders. Even if they were Douglases, what good were a dozen warriors?

Archie never rode with so few men now that he was the earl and chieftain. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see if George was one of the riders. One rider wore a gown and looked remarkably like…

Good heavens, it was her sister Sybil.

“Open the gates!” she shouted, then hurried down from the wall.

As soon as her sister rode in, she slid down from her horse and ran into Alison’s arms. Sybil was only seventeen, but she radiated confidence and a lively sensuality.

“I’m so glad to see ye,” Alison said. “But tell me there are more Douglases coming.”

“Archie and George were away, so I came with my guard,” Sybil said.

“I hoped Archie would come or send George to negotiate David’s release,” Alison said.

“I brought something more useful than Archie,” Sybil said with a glint in her eyes. She leaned close and whispered, “I stole his seal.”

Alison was shocked. A chieftain’s seal carried the weight of his authority. “Archie will be in a fury.”

“Not if I return it before he notices,” Sybil said with a wink.

“How did ye manage to take it?” Alison asked. “Surely he keeps his seal in a locked drawer.”

“I’ve known how to pick a lock since I was fourteen,” Sybil said. “I let a lad kiss me in exchange for the lesson.”

“Sybil, ye didn’t.”

“Ach, he was such a handsome lad, I might have kissed him anyway,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Now, we’ll write this nasty Patrick Blackadder a message. I’ve been practicing Archie’s signature since the day he became earl.”

“Whatever for?” Alison asked.

“To survive at Court a lass must learn such things,” Sybil said.

From what Alison heard, Sybil was a great success at Court.

“Unlike Archie, who can be shortsighted and difficult,” Sybil said, “I’ll write whatever ye need our chieftain to say.”

The more Alison thought about it, the more she thought it might work.

“Bless ye,” she said, hugging her sister again.

They went upstairs, away from the prying eyes of the men, to compose the message. There was no need for the others to know Archie had not written it. When they were done, Sybil signed it with a flourish and set the Douglas chieftain’s seal to it.

“I’ll go with ye to Blackadder Castle,” Sybil said.

“Nay, I need ye to stay here,” Alison said. “If this doesn’t go as we hope, I want ye to take care of my daughters.”

“Me?” Sybil said. “Why not our sister Maggie? Everyone knows she’ll make a wonderful mother.”

“I dislike her husband,” Alison said. “And I want my daughters to learn to be strong like you.”

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” Sybil said, gripping her arms. “But if it should, I’ll teach them to be like their mother. You’ve changed, Allie. Love has made ye strong.”

Alison felt confidence flowing through her. “Aye, it has.”

“This might come in handy,” Sybil said, holding up a thin piece of metal. “It’s a lock pick. Doesn’t work on every lock, but most of them.”

“How did ye get it?”

“From the same lad,” Sybil said with a grin, “for two more kisses.”

***

Alison rode up to the gate of Blackadder Castle surrounded by her sister’s Douglas guard, whose presence had helped persuade her Hume protectors to go along with her plan. Thanks to Sybil, who never traveled light, she wore a fine gown and elaborate headdress, as befitting her status as sister-in-law to the queen.

Alison drew her horse up a few yards from the gate and waited.

While the guards spoke among each other, she quelled the temptation to rub her sweaty palms on her skirts. A short time later, Patrick himself appeared on the wall, apparently not trusting the word of his men. He disappeared again, and her heart sank.

“Our laird welcomes Lady Alison,” one of the Blackadder men shouted down. “But she must enter alone.”

Alison swallowed back her panic. She must go inside and open the secret door to the tunnel. She was the only one who could save David.

After signaling to her Douglas guard to leave her, she heard them ride off. She sat still on her horse and kept her eyes fixed ahead. As she had hoped and feared, the gate creaked open. Patrick stood in the middle of the courtyard, his stance wide and his hands behind his back. Instinct urged her to turn her horse and gallop away as fast as she could.

Instead, she rode in alone to face Patrick and a castle full of warriors with nothing but a parchment rolled up her sleeve, a lock pick in her headdress, and a dagger strapped to her thigh.

CHAPTER 47

Alison forced herself to ride at a leisurely pace across the courtyard to Patrick. His resemblance to her former husband struck her anew, bringing her back to the day she had ridden into this castle as a young and frightened bride.

Patrick still thought of her that way. He underestimated her, and she would use that to her advantage.

“This is a surprise,” Patrick greeted her, “but a delightful one.”

She was relieved that he was choosing to be civil, at least for the moment.

“I’m glad.” She tried to hide how nervous she was with a smile. “Will ye help me down?”

She clenched her teeth to keep from cringing when he clasped his hands on her waist. As she dismounted, her heavy headdress started to tilt. She imagined the lock pick lost in the dirt or, worse, falling at Patrick’s feet as the headdress rolled to the ground. Heart racing, she shoved it firmly on her head with one hand as she descended to the ground, then gingerly released it.

“I apologize for not admitting your escort,” Patrick said. “But circumstances make it difficult to trust anyone these days.”

“I trust you,” she said, taking his arm, “or I wouldn’t have come, and certainly not alone.”

From the look of satisfaction on his face, that had been exactly the right thing to say. She breathed a little easier.

“If you’re here to ask me to release Wedderburn,” he said, giving her a thorough perusal as he led her to the keep, “you’ll need to be verra persuasive.”

“I don’t expect ye to release him,” she said. “I understand he must face the Crown’s justice after what he did.”

Once they were inside, he snapped his fingers at the servants and ordered them to bring refreshments. Patrick clearly relished the outward signs of his new status as laird, which was so unlike David, who exuded a natural authority. David Hume could enter a room in rags, and one would know he was a leader men would follow into battle.

It felt strange to sit in her usual seat with Patrick next to her in the laird’s chair that David had occupied so recently.

“I heard your father died,” she said. “I am sorry for your loss.”

“He was old,” Patrick said. “This is fine wine, isn’t it?”

Apparently he had forgotten that the wine came from her wine cellar.

“If ye didn’t come to beg for Wedderburn’s life,” he said, “then why did ye come?”

She remembered how insistent Patrick was when he kidnapped her on the way home from the abbey that they were meant to be together and that she had always wanted him. She considered telling him he was right, but she feared she could not play that part well enough and he would see the lie. The safer course was to pretend simple acceptance of her changed circumstances.

“We women must be pragmatic,” she said. “I don’t wish to give up my home or my children’s birthright.”

She jumped in her seat as Patrick rested a hot, moist hand on her thigh. Luckily, it was not the thigh with the dirk strapped to it.

“Naturally, my brother, the Earl of Angus,” she said, giving Patrick a pleasant smile as she removed his hand, “is also concerned about my and my children’s future.”

“Your brother?” he said. “If he had an interest, he’d be here.”

“Alas, his responsibilities as stepfather to the king and a member of the King’s Council make it difficult for him to leave Edinburgh at this time.” She withdrew the message Sybil had forged from inside her sleeve and handed it to him. “He hopes you and I can come to an agreement that is satisfactory to both our families.”

“Odd,” he murmured as he read it, “that he would send a lass to negotiate.”

She pasted a smile on her face, but the blood pounded in her ears as Patrick finished reading the missive. Would he guess it was a forgery?

“What makes a marriage alliance between our families acceptable to ye now?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at her. “Ye must admit that fleeing the abbey showed a certain lack of eagerness.”

She was prepared for this.

“At the time, I thought I might be carrying Wedderburn’s child, who would be the Hume heir.” She could not help flushing as she spoke of a matter that should be private between her and David. “But I’m not.”

Patrick gave her a stiff nod. As she had anticipated, he understood a desire to maintain inheritance rights.

“The other reason is that, frankly, I did not wish to wed your father.”

“And ye feel differently about having me for your husband, aye?” he said with a dangerous smile playing on his lips.

She knew before she came that there was a risk Patrick would disregard the formalities of a marriage negotiation and simply haul her upstairs and rape her. From the way he was looking at her now, he wanted to. She could almost see the calculations going through his head.

***

Patrick drummed his fingers. What was his kitten up to?

“I’d look forward to wedding ye,” she said, casting her gaze downward in that demure way that made his blood rise. “With our family connections, it should still be possible to obtain an annulment. That will take time, of course.”

Patrick had her here under his roof. He sure as hell was not waiting for their wedding.

“As my brother says in his letter, this situation with Wedderburn must be handled carefully to avoid trouble with the Humes and their allies.” Her fingers flitted nervously to her headdress as she spoke. “He thinks it important that Wedderburn be judged for his crime by the Council so that the blame does not fall on you—or on the Douglases. He urges you to bring him to Edinburgh as quickly as possible.”