In the Annan House stable, Hugh looked long at Mairi before he said, “How many of your guests are missing jewelry, my lady?”
“I do not know, sir. I heard our steward telling my father and Phaeline only that Lady Johnstone and her daughter had missed
things. It did seem to me, though, as if they had been discussing the subject before I entered the room.”
“Surely, neither Dunwythie nor Phaeline would suspect a servant in their household of theft,” Hugh said.
“I know not what they suspect, sir. I do know Peg, though, and I am sure she would not steal from us or our guests. My sister,
Fiona, was also present then, however, and she has a knack for making mischief even when she does not mean to. She demanded
to know if our steward suspected
Jenny
of taking the jewelry.”
Although it was clear to Hugh that Mairi thought that unlikely, he did not know Janet Easdale. “Might she have taken it?”
he asked her.
“She has no need, sir. Indeed, I should think it more likely that one of the minstrels, or even a servant, took it. But Lady
Johnstone says she is nearly certain she put her necklace away before she went to bed. The minstrels had gone by then.”
“Sakes, lass, so had Lady Easdale and your Peg if you are right about them leaving the house with the minstrels.”
“I know that,” Mairi said. “I am merely repeating what I heard, sir. I do not have any notion what became of the jewelry.
Nor do I know how much is missing.”
If the two young women were indeed with the minstrels, Hugh had no doubt that he would quickly find their trail, wherever
they had gone. It occurred to him, though, that before he left, he should learn more about the missing jewelry.
Mairi might be wrong about when it went missing. But, even so, if anyone raised a hue and cry to find the women or the minstrels,
it would considerably impair his chances of resolving anything quietly.
Leaving word with a lad to tell Lucas he would soon return, Hugh escorted Mairi back to the house and went in search of his
host. With a gillie’s assistance, he found Dunwythie in a small chamber off the hall, looking over his accounts.
Gently raising his eyebrows, Dunwythie said, “Ye still here, lad? I thought ye’d be well away by now.”
“I expect to be away shortly, my lord,” Hugh said. “I just learned, however, that some jewelry has disappeared.”
“By the Rood, I learned that myself only twenty minutes ago. I am coming to believe that rumors fly through the air on their
own wings!”
“ ’Tis only a rumor, then?”
“I wish it were. At least five people have reported missing items, most last night but others this morning, my own wife amongst
them.”
“Phaeline has lost something?”
“Aye, her pearls, if she didna misplace them,” Dunwythie said with an affectionate smile. “She does forget what she’s done
with her things, as I expect most of us do. But she nearly always has one hand on her pearls and is sure she put them away
early this morning. She says she awoke, realized she had not done so, and got up to attend to them. I suppose she might have
dreamed all that, but…”
“ ’Twould be a most coincidental dream, and Phaeline is not fanciful.”
“Nay, although she does seem more forgetful when she is with child.”
“Still, it seems unlikely that the minstrels or your Peg had aught to do with the thefts if things went missing after they
left,” Hugh said.
“Aye, and minstrels do take care to keep their reputations clean, lest they lose all chance of plying their craft. My lads
searched them even so, and I dinna want a fuss. I’ve told everyone who lost jewelry that I’ll investigate the matter, and
each has agreed to leave it to me. Only one suggested reporting the thefts to the sheriff.”
“I trust you persuaded that person to wait,” Hugh said. “It makes no sense for me to act quietly if the Sheriff of Dumfries
will be sending his lads out and about to make noises about stolen jewelry, minstrels, and missing maidservants.”
“I agree, and I did make it plain that I’ll take responsibility for the outcome. We must recover the jewels in any event.
Much as I hate to think it, I fear we may have a thief here in the house. My lads wouldna ha’ searched one of our own.”
“Aye, well, I’ll see if I can glean any useful information,” Hugh said.
“You find Jenny,” Dunwythie said. “That she was unhappy here disturbs me.”
“Unhappiness is scarcely sufficient cause to raise such a dust,” Hugh said. “I’d say that what that young woman needs—”
“Now ye sound like Phaeline,” Dunwythie said. “But I dinna mind telling ye, lad, if this riot and rumpus causes her to lose
our bairn, I may well take a strap to both of our missing lasses when ye find them.”
Hugh had been hoping for some such declaration, if only because he found it a damned nuisance to be going after them. But
when the mental image presented itself—of Dunwythie beating the self-contained young woman who had refused to let Reid intimidate
her—an unexpected stirring of sardonic amusement banished it.
As he and Lucas Horne rode away from Annan House, it occurred to Hugh that had anyone asked him to explain that amusement,
he could not have done so, except by admitting a growing suspicion that the lass would deal as easily with Dunwythie as she
had with Reid.
She would not, however, deal so easily with him.
J
enny looked around the noisy, crowded courtyard of Castle Moss, more than half expecting to see a familiar face. Reid must,
she thought, be on her heels by now with a large party of men. She had been looking over her shoulder all day. But would he
know to follow the minstrels or look for their camp?
It was more likely, she told herself for what must be the hundredth time, that Reid assumed she must be returning to Easdale.
But would he assume that?
Recalling her conversations with Mairi and Fiona at the high table and on the way to her bedchamber, she feared she had said
enough so that Mairi at least would easily deduce what she had done. But even if Mairi had, would she tell Reid?
Reassuring herself that, in any event, he was unlikely to catch up with them before she and the minstrels were safely inside
Lochmaben, she began to relax.
Nearly all the residents of Castle Moss had gathered enthusiastically in the walled courtyard, leaving a large area for the
entertainers and an aisle to reach it.
Men-at-arms tried to keep a walkway clear around the perimeter but had little success. Music filled the air. Tumblers, including
the two fools, tall Gawkus and wee Gillygacus, were trying to outdo each other with their antics. The festive atmosphere filled
Jenny with the same excitement she often felt at a market fair.
Standing to one side of the intersection of the arched entryway to the keep, the perimeter walkway, and the aisle, she had
a fine view of the tumblers and was amazed again at how easily they accomplished each acrobatic movement.
As they left the clearing, three jugglers darted past them to take their places there, sending colored balls into the air
and to each other as they ran. The music quickened as a trio of dancers followed them, and Jenny suddenly wished the Joculator
had asked her to play her lute with the three musicians strolling through the audience. Glancing toward them on the thought,
she saw the flute player lean close to a pretty lass and wink, making her laugh. Nearby watchers laughed as well.
Smiling, Jenny shifted her gaze back to the clearing as a burst of applause sounded. The dancers were making their bows, the
jugglers still juggling.
She saw the Joculator standing to one side, watching with a critical eye. As the dancers skipped away, he joined the jugglers
with balls like theirs, apparently just one more of them, until his first dagger flew high into the air above his head.
She heard the gasps when he caught it and spun it upward again, followed by a second one, and she marveled again at the man’s
dexterity. Even now, in broad daylight, she could not tell how the balls had vanished as daggers took their places.
It had all happened so swiftly and smoothly that it was as if the daggers had sprung out of the air. The audience became silent
until, flinging his arms wide, he seemed to scoop all the daggers from the air at once and then held them high to thunderous
applause and shouts for more.
The acrobats returned for another turn, after which the Joculator moved to stand quietly in the center until the cheering
and laughter faded to silence again. Then, he gestured to a lad, who ran to him with a stool.
As the lad ran away, the Joculator set the stool down and motioned to Jenny. He held a lute in his hand now, and where it
had come from, she did not know.
Drawing a deep breath, she exhaled and went to take the lute from his hand.
The silence continued as he walked away, and she realized that he had so mesmerized the audience with his skill that by the
simple act of inviting her into the clearing and leaving her there alone, he had promised them something special.
Her hands shook, but she breathed deeply again and slowly, telling herself it was just as it had been when she had played
for her father and their household, or for special occasions when their people had gathered on the estate to celebrate.
Imagining that the folks around her now were her own people, she sat on the stool, settled the beautiful instrument in place,
and plucked the first note. Then she looked up, found a smiling face, and began to sing to it, quickly losing herself in the
music and words of the song. The song was her father’s favorite, the same love song she had sung for the Joculator.
When she finished, the silence continued, surprising her and making her look uncertainly at the Joculator. As she did, the
applause began, and the cheering.
When she smiled, the din grew louder.
She was stunned. They liked her! Seeing the Joculator’s nod, she looked back at her lute and plucked the first notes of the
other song she had practiced. It was a livelier ditty with a number of verses, a song known throughout the Borders. By the
time she reached the third verse, the audience was singing with her and the other musicians had joined in her accompaniment.
When they finished, the applause burst forth at once and continued.
“Ye’ll do gey fine with us, lass.”
Turning, she found the Joculator at her side and beamed at him. “That was wonderful, sir. I never thought… when they were
so quiet…”
“A high compliment,” he said. Then he held his hands high, and the audience grew quiet again. Raising his voice, he said,
“If ye liked hearing our bonnie Jenny’s singing, ye should ken she’ll be singing more as we travel on to Dumfries. We’ll perform
for the English inside Lochmaben Castle next. But after we leave there, any Scots wha’ care to enjoy us again will be welcome
to seek our encampment Sunday evening near Dumfries and watch whilst we practice, or to come see us on Monday in Dumfries
market square. We’ll be performing there each evening for a sennight.”
The cheering broke out anew. But Jenny, although enjoying it immensely, wondered if her adventure could possibly last until
Monday, let alone any longer.
“Nae doots, we’ll catch up with one or another of them lasses sometime afore midnight,” Lucas Horne said bleakly late that
afternoon when they still had found no trace of the minstrels. He added with emphasis, “
If
fortune favors us at all by then.”
So far, Hugh thought grimly, fortune had shat on them.
Determined though he had been to lay hands on Lady Easdale by nightfall, he had realized some time before that it would likely
take longer than that just to find her trail. The main track from Annan House had revealed no evidence that the minstrels
had followed it. Nor could he or Lucas tell if they had taken another route. With so many guests departing, hoof tracks had
led everywhere and nowhere.
No one at Annan House had paid heed to aught save the fact of the minstrels’ departure. One watchman said he thought they
had gone down through the town. Another thought they had headed east toward Gretna.
The Borders were at peace for once. The celebratory mood had continued into the night, and minstrels rarely took sides in
disputes, anyway. So, aside from searching their carts and packs, no one had thought it necessary to keep an eye on them.
Hugh had asked no questions about the search. But the very fact of it made it even more unlikely that the minstrels had any
connection to the missing jewelry.
He and Lucas had quickly learned that the company had not passed through Annan town. But no one could say they had not simply
walked around it. They might even have stayed east of it until they met the Roman road heading north, or stayed southwest
of it and followed the riverbank to the first ford. If the Solway tides had cooperated, they might have crossed the river
before reaching the town.
Despite Phaeline’s certainty that Jenny would head for Easdale, and the possibility that she might simply have used the minstrels
as cover to escape Annan House, Hugh could not bring himself to believe that any sensible young woman—and she had looked sensible—would
attempt to travel such a distance alone at night.