Fair Border Bride (22 page)

“She won’t beat me, then?”

There were things she feared more than beatings but she wasn’t going to voice them in case it gave him ideas. All day long she had squashed the word rape to the back of her mind whenever it appeared, but the thought chilled her even more than the wind. She might give thanks that she wasn’t a frightened virgin. At least she had that glorious night with Harry to remember. Even so, now the threat crept into her mind as a very real and possible danger, her stomach shrank into a hard little nut.

“Nah, lessen ye
dae
summat stupid like.”

“That’s a relief. What would you—she, rather, call a stupid thing?”

He didn’t answer. He was guiding his pony towards a dark building not far ahead, and as she spoke, the door opened and a stream of light shone across the darkness.

“Da!”

“Who is that?” Alina asked.

“Me lad.”
He raised his voice.
“Jack, cum an’
tak
t’ pony.”

A lantern, not very high off the ground, bobbed towards them. The pony and the lantern converged and Alina looked down at a small boy somewhere between Lance and Cuddy’s age. “Hello,” she said without hesitation.

The boy’s upturned face was yellowish white in the light of the single candle. He held the lantern higher, and his eyes opened wide.
“
We’se
this, Da?”

Johnnie dismounted, dragged her from the pony and pushed her through the door of the dwelling. Alina blinked. After the cold and windy darkness, the pungent aroma of warm wood smoke, tallow candles, boiling mutton, dogs and animals was welcome, though the air was so thick her eyes smarted and her hand went to her nose. She sneezed.

“
We’se
this, Johnnie?”

The speaker was a well-built, comely woman with powerful arms and a face flushed from the heat of the fire. She handed the ladle to the small girl at her side and walked forward, her calm eyes inspecting Alina from head to foot before she looked at Johnnie. “Well?”

“Cuthbert Carnaby’s lass.”

“An’ what’s she
daein
’ ’ere?”

Alina bobbed a stiff curtsy. “Good even, madam. I am so cold! May I sit by your fire?” She stepped forward, edging towards the welcome warmth.

“Ay, let ’
er
get warm, Meggie.” Johnnie rapidly stowed his gear on hooks by the door. “She’s had a long, ’
ard
ride the day.”

Meggie’s eyes widened at the rustle of expensive silk as Alina sidled by her to get to the fire.
“An’ a dirty one, by the look of ’
er
.”
She turned back to her husband. “And what do we do
wi
’
er
, then?”

Johnnie walked over to the fire and ruffled the curls of the small girl sitting there. The child grinned, revealing a wide gap in her front teeth and leant confidingly against her father’s thigh. Alina sank down at the side of the hearth, thinking of her own father, and could not remember him ever greeting her with such affection.

Johnnie and his son headed for the door. Alina waited until the door banged shut and then turned to meet the curious gaze of her hostess. “He hopes to extract money from my father,” she told Johnnie’s wife. “I told him I doubt that Father will pay out as much as a groat for me, and that I could be here forever. You know what men are like about daughters.”

Meggie nodded towards the girl on the stool. “There’s one might not agree
wi
ye.”

Alina followed her glance.

“Why doesn’t your father love you?” The child’s blue eyes looked worried.

Alina managed a choked, feeble sort of sound and hoped they thought it laughter. “Oh, he does, I’m sure. But he loves my brothers more.” She looked up, and her glance met and meshed with Meggie’s thoughtful brown gaze. Perhaps she ought to stop chattering. It might annoy these people and that would never do. “Am I in the way here?”

Meggie stirred, widened her eyes and shook her head. “Nay, you stay right where you are and get warm. Ye can keep
yer
eye on the stew while
yer
at it.” She turned to the deeper shadows behind her and lifted several wooden bowls from the crude wooden wall rack.

Alina smiled at the child beside her. “My name is Alina. What’s yours?”

“Mary.”

“Ah, such a pretty name. Like the princess.”

Mary’s mouth dropped open, revealing a gap in her bottom teeth. Hesitantly, she asked, “
D’ye
knaw
the princess?”

Meggie plucked the ladle from her daughter’s hand, bent over the pot and doled stew into bowls. “Mary,
ged
up and
tak
these bowls to t’ table, there’s a grand lass. Jack and ye Da will be back in a trice.” The child scrambled to her feet to do her mother’s bidding.

It wasn’t long before Johnnie banged in through the door with his son trotting at his heels. “Summat smells good,” he muttered, rubbing his palms together.

The family clustered about the table and ate the stew from steaming bowls. Alina’s mouth watered but she stayed by the fire and said nothing. Perhaps they didn’t intend to feed her, or perhaps there wasn’t enough to go around. Johnnie bolted his share and scoured the bowl with a hunk of bread. “By,
that were
grand.”

Stretching her neck, Alina peeped into the blackened pot hanging over the fire. It looked empty. Resigned to a hungry night, she watched with little interest when Meggie seized her husband’s bowl and rose from the table. She walked to the hearth, filled it from the pot and thrust it at Alina.

Surprised and grateful, Alina took it in both hands and closed her eyes as she breathed in the meaty aroma. “Thank you,” she said, smiling at Meggie. “It smells delicious. I know I shall enjoy it. Thank you.”

Johnnie grinned and flicked a glance at his wife. “So ye should. The meat’s from one o’ the best farms around.”

Alina swallowed a mouthful and scooped up more. “I did not hear that remark,” she said softly and kept her eyes on the bowl.

Jack gazed at her with a look that clearly said she was stupid. “Da said the mutton came from—”

“I know what he said, Jack.”

The boy left his empty bowl on the table and came to the hearth. “Then why—”

Alina eyed him over a spoonful of fragrant stew. “I have two younger brothers. Cuddy is seven and Lance is nearly fourteen. When they are told something they don’t like, they pretend they never heard it. Sometimes they clap their hands over their ears. That way they keep their consciences clear.”

Jack’s eyes gleamed. “And they don’t do whatever it is they didn’t like!”

“Exactly.”

He regarded her with calculating eyes. “So…you don’t want to know the mutton was stolen but you want to go on eating it?”

She sipped broth from her wooden spoon. “I am devilish hungry.”

He laughed, Johnnie snorted and Meggie looked amused. “I should have been at my bridal feast tonight,” Alina murmured. “I was so nervous this morning I couldn’t eat more than a mouthful.”

Meggie’s spoon sank back to her bowl. “You got married today?”

Alina shook her head. “Not quite. The service didn’t…it didn’t go on long enough. I’m not married, though I should be…Je
suis
desolee
,” she whispered. It wasn’t hard to pretend that she might cry at any moment.

“Ah, ye poor thing,” Meggie cried, gathering up both spoon and bowl and coming to the hearth.
“Did ye want to marry the lad?
It
wasna
a forced match?”

“No. Indeed, I desperately wanted to marry Harry.”

“Marry Harry,” chortled Jack. “Marry Harry, marry Harry….
Ow
.”

His mother’s elbow in his ribs put a sharp halt to his litany. Meggie nodded towards the ravaged blue gown. “That’ll be why ye be all dolled up, then.”

Alina nodded. “Well, this is my wedding dress. Not that it did me much good.”

“And what’s he like, then, this Harry?”

“Oh, he’s tall, dark—”

“And handsome, o’ course!”
Meggie grinned.
“
Gan
on,
gan
on.”
She slurped the last of her stew off the spoon, handed her bowl to Mary and nodded at the table. The child obediently replaced the bowl while her mother turned to her brother. “Jack, clear the table. I want to talk to…”

“Aw, ma.”

“Dee it, Jack, before ah clip ye ear.”

Alina suspected Meggie wanted to talk of the outside world and happily obliged her. “My name is Alina, and yes, Harry is handsome.” She clasped her hands about her knees and smiled. “He has wonderful blue eyes that match the sapphire he wears on his right hand. We only met a few weeks ago quite by chance in Corbridge market…and then only because I was rather forward.”

“Ah can well believe that,” Johnnie remarked dryly. He got up, and went to sit in the only carved wooden chair by the fire.

Alina pulled a face. “Mama rebuked me later. Shall I tell you what happened next?”

Meggie nodded, round face aglow in the firelight. “Aye, it’s as good as a pedlar’s tale.” She let Mary climb onto her lap and settle down. “We don’t know this one, do we, lovvie?”

So Alina told the story of the bull, Harry’s encounter with the reivers and his subsequent lapse of consciousness. Meggie hung on every word, and Alina embellished it as much as she could. When she described her father’s return, the discovery of Harry and the confrontation in the hall, even Johnnie listened. By the time she got to the tale of Harry’s Leap, Meggie’s eyes widened and Jack bounced up and down at the news Harry had escaped.

“He’s a brave lad and no mistake.” Meggie cuddled her little girl and rocked her. “Then he came back? There’s more?”

Alina nodded. “Oh, yes.”

Meggie nodded at the girl in her arms. “But the little one’s very nearly asleep. We’ll hear the rest tomorrow.”

In no time at all, the children and Alina were bundled up a rough ladder to the half-gallery floor above, where straw and a couple of rugs made a bed for the children.

“If ye squeeze in
wi
the bairns
ye’ll
stay warm enough.” Meggie waited till Alina lay down and then retreated, taking the candle with her. Darkness settled over the gallery. Alina snuggled in next to Mary, though Jack insisted, with manly dignity, on maintaining some distance between them. Alina didn’t mind. She was so tired she could sleep on a pikestaff, as she once heard her brother Lionel remark.

When silence settled down over the barn-like dwelling, there was only the breathing of the children to keep her awake. No sounds came from below, where Meggie and Johnnie no doubt had a bed in one of the dark recesses on the ground floor.

She wondered if, given a little time, she might make a friend of both Mary and Meggie. Judging from the worn appearance of Meggie’s woollen kirtle and the darns in her shawl, the family was not earning enough to live comfortably. The children’s clothes were little better, for Jack’s shirt was far too large for him, and had to be a hand-me-down from an older boy. Or perhaps a shirt of his father’s, cut down to fit him. Mary’s kirtle had been roughly cobbled together by someone not too experienced with a needle.

Alina sighed. Life was hard for these people, and yet they were generous with what they had. Johnnie had stolen her, and yet even he had offered her no violence, and owned a dry humour she found amusing. She stared up into the rafters. Telling of Harry’s Leap had woken her own fighting spirit and her last thoughts before she fell asleep were that she must look about her for a way to escape and get back to Harry.

Happily dreaming of his blue eyes and warm smile, she vowed that she would be off and on her way home by midday tomorrow.

***

Harry watched the bulk of the group peel off with their stolen horses, and followed Alina and her captor down through the wooded dene. Lurking in the deepening shadows, he watched the man and boy stable the pony and return to the house. Assuming no further action until daybreak, Harry retreated, rode to Bew Castle and demanded access.

The guards were leery of a stranger arriving after nightfall, but Harry used his father’s name and was duly allowed in and escorted to the commander of the garrison.

Harry ducked under the lintel, walked into a small wood panelled room with a fire burning in the hearth and smiled with relief when he recognised the stout, middle-aged figure and florid features of Henry Burton.

“Harry!” Burton looked up, full of surprise. “My dear fellow, what brings you to this neck of the woods?”

“I need your help, sir.” In swift, concise sentences Harry outlined his problem and watched Burton’s expression change from surprise to outrage and then to concern.

“You don’t know, then, precisely who has the young lady?”

Harry shook his head. “No, but I know exactly where she was taken. A small dwelling built onto an old tower down in the dell below the church.”

“Ah! Then that would make it Johnnie Hogg who has her. He’s a cunning fellow, but not vicious. He’ll not harm her, you can rest assured on that score.” Wreathed in wrinkles, his eyes twinkled. “Besides, his wife would have something to say about it if he laid a hand on your young lady.”

“Sir?”
Harry gaped at the older man. Burton seemed unconcerned at the thought of a young girl in the reiver’s clutches. “Surely we should take men and affect her release at once?”

“Time enough tomorrow, I think.” Burton smiled. “It’s nearly midnight, and you look exhausted. If you set off after these fellows mid-morning, you won’t have eaten all day.” He walked to the door, opened it and bellowed for food and ale.

“But she could be in danger at that man’s hand—”

Burton closed the door and shook his head. A wall lantern above him revealed the pink scalp showing through his thinning hair. “She’ll come to no harm in Hogg’s house. He has a wife and two small children. Take my assurance, lad, she’ll be in no danger. All Hogg wants is money.”

He sounded convincing and Harry could hardly force him to rouse the guard. A tap on the door brought a plateful of cold beef, pickles, bread and a brimming tankard of ale. Harry’s mouth watered and his stomach rumbled. He took his place at table, and let the heat of the fire sink into his bones.

***

For the second time in three days, Alina awoke to darkness and the unsettling feeling of not knowing where she was. Still foggy with sleep, she glanced around. At first she thought she was in the hay loft at Grey, with straw beneath her. The rough, scratchy wool blanket, swiftly and loosely woven, held an odour that was new and different. It scratched her chin. Her eyes felt gummy and sore, as if she’d spent far too long in a smoky atmosphere. It was hard not to cough. Nor could she recall why there was a small, warm body on either side of her.

It wasn’t absolutely dark. Light filtered through from somewhere above her head. Lifting herself gently on one arm, she surveyed her surroundings. There was a raftered roof and thatch above her, and stone walls around her. She faced a stone wall. Behind her head was a low wall of wooden planks, which marked the huge drop to the main floor of the hall below. The gallery was perhaps nine feet wide, and open at one end to allow access from below.

Memory filtered back, slowly at first, and then at great speed. Today she should have awoken in Harry’s arms as his legitimate wife, duly witnessed and attested by all in front of the Lord. Her father had no control over her now.

She grimaced. He did, of course, for the marriage was incomplete. A wave of regret swamped her, swiftly followed by a wave of something hotter, stronger and much more urgent.

She must get out of here and find Harry.

Looking about her, Alina wondered about Johnnie Hogg. She understood he needed gold to feed his family, and that she was intended to be his means of achieving it. She suspected he was also one of those men whose bark was far worse than his bite.