Highland Guard (17 page)

Harcourt showed the man the door, realizing that it was cleverly situated at the far back of the stables and blocked from sight by worktables and old blankets. “How long have ye worked here, Dunnie?”

“Near all my life, sir. My da was the stable master before me though. He died nay so long after the old laird did.”

“Ah, and obviously held fast to this secret, taking it to the grave with him.”

“Is it a bolt-hole?”

“In a way. David liked the lassies but his parents were verra strict and pious.”

Dunnie nodded. “Ye think he met with the lassies in here?”

“Nay, too great a chance of being caught. There has to be another door.”

It took all three of them an hour to find the hidden way out of the stables. Just before they were about to give up, Harcourt carefully walked in a straight line from the door he had come through to the opposite side of the stable. It was not easy due to a vast array of obstacles from buckets to tools but the last and largest obstacle was an ill-tempered gelding in a stall who quickly revealed why he was called Biter.

Dunnie managed to get the animal moved into another stall without injury so the three of them could work to clear away the straw covering the floor. In the far corner was a hatch in the floor. Harcourt had to scrape out years of debris from around the edges before he could open it. Beneath it was a set of worn stone steps, not steep but definitely leading down and toward the wall the stable had been built against.

“This wasnae built by David,” he said. “Torch, Geordie.” As the man worked to relight the one they had brought with them, Harcourt carefully studied the sloping, narrow steps. “This is verra old.”

“Weel, Glencullaich is verra old,” said Dunnie. “There has been something on this place e’en before folk began to keep records. But dinnae ken why this is here.” He shrugged. “Though stories told let one ken that the lot who lived here back in that time wasnae always made up of good men. Looks to me that, if ye follow that, ye will end up in the burn.”

Dunnie proved right. With a grumbling Geordie leading the way with torch in hand, they followed the sloping tunnel all the way down to a small cave on the banks of the burn. Not certain if anyone was watching the keep from this side, Harcourt stood at the back of the cave with the two men. It was big enough to stable a horse, he realized and shook his head. David must have found an ancient bolt-hole and used it to enjoy a few secret trysts. Few of the men on the walls watched this side of the keep for the bank of the burn was high, solid stone, and the tall walls of the keep were built nearly to the edge of the banks. It was going to be difficult to secure but he knew it would be the height of foolishness to destroy it. As they returned to the stables he decided to confer with the others. For now, simply replacing Biter in the stall would be good enough.

He wandered back through the tunnel leading into the cellars, Geordie right behind him. By the time he reached the great hall it was to catch Callum and Tamhas about to leave for the night. Harcourt hoped he was not about to ruin a fine night with a bonnie lass, especially when there was a battle on the horizon. Every man deserved what could be his last night in the arms of a woman. It was how he planned to spend his.

“Found another bolt-hole,” he announced and smiled at the way Callum swore.

“Where is this one?” Callum demanded. “And will it mean that I will have to wash again before going to see Peg?”

“Nay, washing will nay be required,” Harcourt assured him. “’Tis a verra weel-built, surprisingly clean tunnel from the cellars to the stables and from the stables down to the burn.” He handed Callum the keys. “It opens in the castle behind some old chests in the storage area opposite Geordie’s cell. That is the part that leads to the stables. In the stables, Dunnie can show ye where the second part is and ye will need him. The guard o’er that part is a mean beastie of a gelding called Biter.”

“Do ye wish it closed?”

“Nay as ye mean. I want it sealed against anyone entering from the outside, nay at least without sounding some alarum of some kind. Ye will understand when ye see it.” He pushed Geordie toward them. “Now that I think on it, just take him. He kens the way and then settle him with Nicolas. Geordie here is our new archer.”

 

 

Annys stepped into her bedchamber, her body aching from all the work she had done, but she was completely satisfied with, even proud of, all she had accomplished. Then she caught sight of the large bathing tub set near the fireplace, steam rising from the water, the soft lavender scent from her bathing herbs filling the air, and large drying clothes hung on a rack near enough to the fire to make them warm for when she was ready to use them. Someone had even set her best lace-trimmed night shift and robe at the end of the bed.

She did not think she could get her clothes off fast enough. Finally naked and a little surprised she had not torn something in her haste to shed the clothes, Annys stepped into the bathing tub, one large enough that she could submerge her body, covering it with the heated water and soothing the ache in what felt to be every muscle in her body. She rested her head against the lip of the tub, grateful to the kind person who had softened that edge with several folded-over drying clothes. A deep sigh of pleasure escaped her and she closed her eyes.

It was the scent of food that pulled her from her light sleep. Annys opened her eyes to find Harcourt kneeling by the tub, dipping a corner of the washrag into the pot of soap. When he started to wash her arm, she blushed, finally awake enough to be all too aware of her nudity, of being in her bath while a fully dressed Harcourt looked on. Then she told herself not to be so foolish. They were lovers now. She had no secrets from him.

“I am nay sure this is such a good idea,” she said when he nudged her forward so that he could wash her back.

“I would love to turn this into something more than a bath,” Harcourt said, smiling faintly. “And I suspect I will pay dearly for my good behavior, but I mean to gently tend to my woman tonight.”

“And I am your woman, am I?” She caught her breath at the warmth in the intense look he gave her.

“Aye, and I am inclined, verra strongly inclined, to keep ye as my woman for a verra long time.”

“That wouldnae be an easy thing to accomplish.”

“But one I am giving a great deal of thought to.”

“I am nay sure I can be naught but a lover ye visit now and again.”

“Not my plan. I dinnae want that, either.” He tugged her arms away from her breasts to wash them. “I want more than a lover, Annys. I want a partner, a wife, but there are things which must be sorted out and I am trying to give ye no promises until I ken for certain that I can keep every single one of them.”

“For now, ’tis enough to ken that ye want to.” She rose up enough to brush a kiss over his mouth. “Now, to keep us from misbehaving and allowing that food I smell to turn cold, tell me what ye did today.”

Harcourt told her about the tunnel he, Geordie, and Dunnie had found. Her interest and bursts of amusement over the tale he told helped him keep hold of his control as he finished bathing her. It was not as easy to hang on to his control as he dried her off and dressed her in her night shift, but he kept reminding himself that he had a plan.

Sitting down and eating eased his hunger for her a little because it kept him busy and distracted from thinking about making love to her. A hearty meal fulfilled another hunger he had gained after a full day of work as well. Each of them had done so much today that there was a lot to talk about. Harcourt knew this was what he wanted, what he needed. He had not lied to her about that; he was determined to find a way for them to be together like this for a very long time.

Annys finished her cider, set the tankard down, and decided it had been a very long time since she had felt so good. That it was on the night of a day spent preparing for an attack was certainly odd, but she could not deny the fact that she was actually happy, filled with a pleasant languor. She looked at Harcourt who was watching her with a hunger her body rapidly responded to, and smiled. For tonight, she saw no harm in thinking only of herself, her own pleasure, and to pretend that all was right in her world.

Harcourt stood, took her by the hand, and tugged her out of her seat and into his arms. His need for her strengthened immediately, but there was also a saner, calmer sense of rightness within him. This was where she belonged.

He kissed her and savored the way her body pressed against his but his control was slipping away fast. “I wanted this to be a slow, sumptuous loving,” he said as he began to remove her night shift.

“Mayhap that will come later.”

Despite blushing as she lay naked on the bed in front of him, she watched him shed his clothes. He was beautiful to her although she doubted he would like her using such a word to describe him. He was all women said a man should be, she thought, yet they rarely found. He was strong, his muscles easy to see in his every move as was the grace he was probably unaware of. Though he was tall, all his limbs and his torso were of a size to appear perfectly matched. He was neither pale nor dark but a faint golden color, his skin looking as if it had been kissed by the sun and inviting her to touch it. A neat, light vee of black hair decorated his broad chest, a thin line of it began just below his belly hole and went straight down to where it thickened around his groin. His manhood jutted out from his body, hard and pointing right at her, and she smiled. Then she opened her arms to welcome him when he joined her on the bed.

Annys lost herself in the pleasure of his kisses and soft caresses, in the warmth of his skin beneath her hands. By the time he slipped his hand between her legs, she was eager for that intimate touch. A murmur of disappointment escaped her as his back slid out of her reach when he spread kisses over her body and down her belly. She reached to pull him back but then his hot mouth replaced his seductive fingers. Shock ripped through her at such an intimacy, but she had barely acknowledged it when passion burned it away, along with the last tenuous scrap of her modesty.

When she felt that tight ache in her belly grow, she opened her mouth to demand he join with her but did not get to say a word. Harcourt reared up and joined their bodies with a thrust strong enough to make her slide up the bed. She grabbed his arms to anchor herself as he bent his head to kiss her.

She gave herself over to the pleasure of being surrounded by him, his heat warming her inside and out. Despite her efforts to hold on as long as she could, to savor the rush of delight his lovemaking produced, her release mercilessly tore through her and she cried out his name, hanging on tightly as he found his own a heartbeat later.

Although it took a while before he could even move, Harcourt finally rose from her arms and cleaned them both off. He crawled back into bed when he was done and pulled her back into his arms. He sighed with contentment when she curled her body up against his. It had been fast, a little furious, but to his relief, mutually satisfying. He kissed the top of her head and decided that, after he had rested for a while, he would try again to achieve that slow, sumptuous lovemaking he kept promising her.

At the first clang of the warning bell, Harcourt was immediately awake. He leapt out of the bed and yanked on his clothes. As he prepared for battle, he watched Annys wake to the continuing alarm, watched the fear come alive inside her, and wished he could chase it away. She was going to have to learn to push it aside, however. Sir Adam had caused her to feel that fear, forced her to face it and try to be strong. For that alone, Harcourt wanted the man dead.

“Sir Adam has arrived?” she asked as she slipped out of bed and began to quickly dress, pulling on her shift.

“Aye.” He pulled her into his arms causing her to drop the gown she held and gave her a fierce kiss. “Keep safe.”

“Ye as weel.”

Annys watched him hurry out of the room and sighed. Fear was a tight knot in her belly but she was determined not to allow it to rule her. There were a lot of people inside the keep now, every one of them as afraid as she was. She needed to show them only calm and an absolute certainty of victory. That was one of the things she had been taught that the lady of a keep was expected to do. It was one of the few things that had always made complete sense to her.

Before she left the bedchamber, she looked around. The lovely hot bath she had savored was now no more than a tub of cold, soapy water, but the memory of that pleasure remained. On the table in front of the fire sat the sad scraps of the hearty meal she and Harcourt had shared, the jug of cider empty now, but she could still smile over the teasing and flirting they had indulged in as they ate. The bed was a mass of tangled covers and her body warmed at the memories that sight stirred up.

It had all been almost perfect. The only shadow was the lack of any declaration of love, from Harcourt for her, or from her for him. Harcourt had spoken of how he wanted them to stay together, even brushed over the word
marriage,
but the one thing that firmly stood between them, was where they each had to remain after the battle was over, had not been banished. The laird of Glencullaich could not leave it and, as his mother, neither could she, and Harcourt needed to return to Gormfeurach, not only out of duty to the people living there, but to his brother. A part of her was grateful that he would give her no false promises when he had no answers to their problem yet, while another part would have liked to hear them anyway.

Shaking her head, she hurried out of the room. The best thing she could do now was to bury herself in all the work that needed to be done. It would keep her from thinking too much on what had not been said between her and Harcourt as well as help her keep her fear tucked away deep inside her. First she needed Joan, or any other grown woman, to correctly braid her hair so that it was out of her way while she worked.

Passing by David’s bedchamber, Annys could not resist stepping inside for just a moment. Her first thought when she entered was that Glencullaich was going to need a lot more cottages than it had now. There were ten cradles with infants in them and three more ready for the three very pregnant women there, ones due to go to the birthing room very soon. Since the children were all busy playing and running around, it was difficult to count the number of very young children but there were twenty pallets on the floor. The three women heavy with child had four older girls and three aged women plus Mary, whose new infant slept in one of the cradles, to help them.

She saw Benet being introduced to the infants by a boy who had to be close to his own age. Benet suddenly looked up, smiled, and waved at her. Annys returned the wave.

“Look at all the bairns,
Maman!
” he said.

“I see, Benet. There will have to be more cottages built soon.” She grinned when he laughed and nodded. “Remember to be verra gentle with them, love,” she added and turned to leave only to come face to face with Mary.

“This is a wondrous thing to do for us, m’lady. For the bairns, for us, for the old ones,” Mary said.

“T’was Sir Nathan’s idea, Mary,” she said.

“And we have all thanked him. But, we ken weel he had the idea, aye, but ye and your ladies put it all in place. Now we willnae be underfoot, aye?”

“That was the purpose, aye. The sad thing is that ’tis also so we can move ye all, verra quickly, if the need arises.” She was surprised when Mary smiled for the knowledge should have served to remind her of all the danger they were facing.

“I ken it, m’lady. ’Tis true, I am frightened but kenning that we are here, easy to gather up and move, is a comfort. Sir Nathan showed us where to go when the time comes.”

“Good, but ye will have to be certain to stay together as ye go down to the ledger room.”

“Oh, we dinnae have to leave here. There is a way down to the cellars right in that lovely wee privacy room.” Mary pointed to the garderobe David had as part of his bedchamber. It was to the left of the huge fireplace and a room with his writing table was to the right.

Annys shook her head. “I believe my husband kept a lot of secrets, such as how this keep is fair riddled with holes.”

Mary laughed. “I heard t’was from his days as a randy young lad with verra pious parents.”

“It was. He did confess that. I just wish he had made some map of all the ways he found to slip away from their watchful eyes.”

“M’lady!” Gavin called as he ran into the room, stumbling to a halt in front of her. “Ye are wanted at the walls.”

“Why?” she asked as she followed him out only to tug him along with her so that they could use the way to the walls in her bedchamber.

“Sir Adam has demanded to speak with you.” Gavin’s eyes widened as she opened the way to the stairway that went up to the walls from her bedchamber. “I didnae ken about this.”

“Ye would have been told when ye reached the age to take a turn at watch on these walls.”

Annys moved as quickly as she dared. She knew Sir Adam was going to offer her a way to halt the battle they faced, but one that could give him all that he wanted and leave her with little or nothing. Yet, it would also halt the bloodshed that was to come. She had to force herself to be strong, to not think on saving her people from the trouble at their gates now, and think only of saving their futures. There was a part of her that desperately wanted to escape all of this but she had to keep it caged.

 

 

“Weel, that is a bigger force than I had hoped to see,” said Harcourt as he looked out at the army gathered before the gates of the keep.

Bear the blacksmith paused in his self-appointed rounds of inspecting everyone’s weapons, occasionally replacing a sword he thought inferior with one of the ones he had with him in a leather sack strapped to his back. “His clan has given him a lot of coin. Wagering on a big prize.”

“You up on the walls,” bellowed Sir Adam as he rode closer. “Where is Lady Annys?”

After winking at Harcourt, Bear stepped up closer to the wall to peer down at Sir Adam. “Inside the keep doing things the lady of the keep is supposed to do.”

“Weel bring her to the walls!”

Bear looked around and then back down at Sir Adam. “Why? She cannae wield a sword or shoot an arrow. Nay useful up here. This be men’s work.”

Harcourt joined the others in laughing. He knew what Sir Adam saw. A huge, shaggy-haired oaf. It was Bear’s best weapon. Bear was a head taller than him, and very muscular which, for reasons Harcourt did not understand, appeared to make people believe the man had to be witless as well as if somehow having a body that big and strong stole something from the man’s mind. Harcourt had been guilty of thinking the man some slow-witted overgrown fellow himself when he had first seen him, an opinion that had changed the moment he had looked into those sharp green eyes.

“I wish to parlay with her, fool. Now, fetch her.”

“Nay sure she wants to speak to ye what with ye coming here with an army and threatening her and all.”

“Get her!”

“As ye wish.” Bear just stared at Sir Adam for a moment before saying in a low, hard voice that somehow carried down to the knight and all his men. “I am thinking ye would be wise to back away a wee bit ere one of us gives in to the temptation to end this here and now.”

Sir Adam backed away as did his men and Bear nodded. “Wise lad. Now we will see if our lady is inclined to talk to you.”

Harcourt signaled to a waiting Gavin and the boy scrambled off the wall to go find Annys. He had known Sir Adam would want to offer something to try to gain the keep without raising a sweat. He also knew that, no matter how badly Annys wanted to avoid a fight that could cost some of her people their lives, she would not simply hand over Glencullaich. She would refuse to do that, not just for herself or Benet but for the people. It was one of the reasons he loved her, he thought, and was startled by that realization. It was a very poor time to have it.

“She willnae give us up,” said Bear.

“Nay, I ken it, although her heart will break with every drop of blood her people lose.” He looked at Bear. “This is what her people want, aye? To fight?”

“Och, aye, right down to the last bairn old enough to speak its mind. It has been peaceful here so long ye cannae find anyone alive who has kenned different, but it was nay always this way. The tales are passed down and the graveyard tells the same story. Glencullaich used to be ruled by ones like that oaf down there. Ones who fought with everyone and committed near every crime ye can think of. Then the laird’s twig of the clan tree took o’er and it all stopped. Pious lot but they brought peace to this place, made it prosperous, and no one here wants a return of the battles, the feuds, the raids, and the lairds who wasted the lives of their men as they did their coin.”

Bear looked at the army in front of the walls again. “These are nay our people e’en if there are some MacQueens amongst them. They dinnae care about those bairns and women in the nursery, the lads too young to fight setting buckets of water and sand near anything that might catch fire. That greedy fool sitting there waiting to talk to our lady only cares that this land can fill his purse with more money to buy whores and fine clothes. Och, aye, we will all fight because we want what we have—a good life and kenning the laird cares for each and every one of us.”

Harcourt nodded. He also studied the army spread out before them. There were the men with the scaling ladders just behind the archers. It would begin with a rain of arrows. In the confusion caused by that, the men on the walls and elsewhere simply trying to stay alive, the ladders would be set up against the walls. Their chance to fight back would come only when the men on the ladders began to obstruct the archers. It was going to be bloody and the fact that there was little he could do to change that enraged him. The sound of the bell announcing Annys headed up to the walls was all that stopped him from giving in to the urge to order Geordie to put an arrow through Sir Adam’s black heart now.

“Oh, sweet mother of God.”

It took every last shred of control Harcourt had not to pull Annys into his arms to try to comfort her. She stared out at the army, her eyes wide with shock, and her face as white as frost. Even she, with no knowledge of wars and tactics, could see that they were badly outnumbered. Bear patted her on the back and, that quickly, a thread of amusement broke his deep concern for her. A movement of her skirts told him she had braced herself the moment Bear had moved his hand toward her but she didn’t flinch. It was clear to see that she had been patted by Bear before and knew it was necessary to brace herself or risk being knocked over.

“It will be fine, m’lady,” Bear said. “Ne’er forget, everyone stands with ye. Every single person in Glencullaich.”

“Thank ye, Bear. ’Tis good to hear. And, dinnae worry, I ken what this is about. ’Tis nay just me. Nay e’en just about Benet. ’Tis about holding fast to what we all have. ’Tis for Glencullaich.” She was surprised to hear a ripple of hearty agreement go along the walls as each man there heard what was being said.

Straightening her shoulders, Annys stepped close to the wall and stared down at Sir Adam. He looked quite handsome on his horse but she knew that handsomeness truly was only skin deep. Below that covering, in his heart and soul, he was vain and greedy.

“Good morning, Cousin,” she said, infusing as much cheerfulness into her voice as she could muster. “I hear ye have something ye wish to say to me.”

Sir Adam rode a little closer again. “This can end here and now,” he said. “There is nay a need for your people to be harmed or the property damaged in any way. Hand over Glencullaich to the rightful heir and ye can leave unharmed, as can your hired swords.”

“Hired swords?” She looked around. “I have no hired swords, sir. That appears to be your way, but it isnae mine. I have merely friends who seek to aid a poor, defenseless woman against someone who wishes to take what isnae his.”

“I
am
the rightful heir! Nay that boy! We all ken David wasnae the sire.”

“We do? I believe ye are the only one who keeps saying that.”

“Because ’tis the truth! We all ken that Sir Robert MacLeoid gelded him years ago.”

Annys stared at the man, an icy chill flowing through her body. David had once said that he always wondered how Sir Robert MacLeoid and his men had come to hunt him down, that he was almost certain he had never bedded the man’s wife. He had doubts only because he knew he had been a randy fool, often drank too much, and did not have the best recollection of what women he had bedded. Despite that, he had never been able to dismiss an unease about the attack. Now she knew why. Sir Adam had set MacLeoid on David. It was entirely possible that David had been brutally punished for a crime he had never committed. It was also now evident that Sir Adam had been trying to rid Glencullaich of heirs for a very long time.

“Gelded?” she asked, and tapped her chin with one finger as if considering the possibility. “Being that I am a lady and cannae use certain words, let me just assure ye of your error with the assertion that David was a mon. Fully, completely, and utterly a mon. As his wife, I believe I would be the best one to ken that fact, aye?”