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  “Prithee, madam, how long do you expect to hide me here?”

  Meg smiled reassuringly. “Just until Father Abbot and Father Jonathan leave the Hall. Meantime, I mean to learn much more about all this.”

  When the door had shut behind her and Molly was alone, she began to wonder if she was truly safer or just learning that safety was ever-illusory.

  After declaring to Father Jonathan that he did not know where Molly was, Wat turned their discussion to other, less contentious topics while they sipped the Hall’s hearty ale. Father Abbot proved adroit at deflecting Father Jonathan from further defense of his actions. Even so, Wat more than welcomed the rap on the door informing him that the midday dinner was ready to serve.

  Adjourning with his guests to the dais, he wished he had some magical way to make Father Jonathan support what was right for Molly.

  Forced marriage, in Wat’s opinion, should be illegal under any circumstance. As for the Kirk’s notion that a woman was better off with a man like Ring Tuedy than unwed, that was utter lunacy.

  That a father, any father, could treat his daughter as Cockburn had treated Molly shocked him. That a priest could collude in such a travesty infuriated him. It was all he could do to be civil to Father Jonathan.

  Nevertheless, the man was a guest in his house and at his board. He would exert himself to be polite.

  The fat little priest pulled out his back-stool and began to sit, with the abbot standing beside him at Wat’s right. Recalled to duty but twitching with impatience, the priest folded his hands at his waist and looked piously down.

  Wat doubted that the man was offering a prayer to the Almighty unless it was to get him out of Scott’s Hall as soon as possible and away from Rankilburn.

  Deciding he’d be wise to ignore him, Wat waited for the ladies of his household to appear. Men and women in the lower hall had found their places at the trestle tables there and stood quietly. Westruther and Geordie had not returned.

  Janet and Bella came in, and Janet took her usual place, but Bella walked to Wat and said, “Our lady mother will eat in her chamber, sir. She said to tell you that if Father Abbot will pray for her and perhaps come to visit her another day, she would like to see him. She does not feel able to welcome a priest unknown to her at this sad time, though, and does not want to appear rude by receiving only one of them.”

  “Thank you, Bella,” Wat said, glancing at the abbot and receiving a silent nod in reply. “After we eat, you may go and tell her that Father Abbot will do as she asks.” Leaning nearer, he said quietly, “Since she is not coming to table, you and Janet should sit next to Gram.”

  “But what about Aunt Rosalie and—” Bella broke off when Wat frowned and turned away without mentioning Molly, letting him hope the priest would pay her no heed.

  His grandmother entered and spoke briefly to Janet and Bella when she met them. When the three had taken their places, Wat said, “Where is Aunt Rosalie?”

  “Visiting the Gledstanes at Coklaw,” Lady Meg replied shortly.

  “Then, Father Abbot, if you would be so kind as to say the grace…”

  His reverence complied and was blessedly brief.

  The meal likewise passed swiftly, because although it was the largest meal of the day, it was rare in Border establishments for such a meal to take long. People had chores to do, and the master of the house and his family customarily lingered longer over their supper than their midday meal.

  While others at the high table waited for Father Jonathan to finish his food, Lady Meg leaned near her grandson and murmured, “If you mean to continue your discussion in the inner chamber, Walter, I would like to join you. If not, then I want a word with Father Abbot afterward. Also, sir, if I look as if I might speak to that other worm, you must stifle me. I doubt I can be civil to him.”

  “Say what you like to him, Gram. I’ve stifled myself many times already.”

  She shook her head at him. “It is at just such times that you must try to emulate your father, love, not your granddad.”

  “And you, madam?” His lips twitched. “I doubt that you could be uncivil if you tried.”

  “Ahhh, but you do not know all,” she said. “I’ll have you know that I once tossed a full goblet’s ale in your grandfather’s face, right in front of his men.”

  Wat raised his eyebrows. “Pray, what did he do then?”

  “That, my love, is no business of yours,” she said, her dignity unimpaired.

  Stifling a chuckle, Wat began to look forward to further conversation with the two clerics. Earlier, he had felt well out of his element, his antipathy toward Father Jonathan warring with his training to be respectful of all priests.

  As it was, he barely waited for the man to wipe his eating knife before he stood and said evenly, “Father Abbot, my lady grandame will join our discussion in the inner chamber. As it may be long, I’d welcome you to spend the night with us.”

  “Nay, my lord, but thank you,” the abbot said. “I have already told Father Jonathan that I must return to the abbey. Nor need you offer your hospitality to him. He told me earlier that Cockburn expects his return by suppertime.”

  “You give me more reason to press you to stay, Father,” Wat murmured.

  The abbot smiled but shook his head and turned to Lady Meg. “I am glad to see you looking as well as ever, my lady,” he said.

  Meg said with her gentle smile, “You must reserve your compliments and consolation for my good-daughter, Father Abbot. Lavinia is beset with grief at present and will welcome your prayers and, in time, your sage advice.”

  “But you do not?”

  “I did not say that.” Quietly, she added, “I’m a Borderer born, your reverence. If we succumbed to our grief at every such loss, we’d have time for little else. Life goes on. My husband would not thank me for wallowing, nor would my father, mother, good-father, or my beloved son. I miss them all dreadfully but cannot bring them back, and life is a gift that one should not waste in sadness.”

  “So you mean to discuss your goddaughter with us, do you?”

  When she raised her eyebrows, he said, “Aye, I asked Jonathan about that, and he does admit that he witnessed the event. He says you abandoned her.”

  “So he can be honest then,” she said.

  “He has been, aye.”

  “Then, I have the answer to your question for you and a declaration,” Meg said. “But we should go into the inner chamber first, I think.”

  “Aye, we should,” he agreed. Turning to Wat, he added, “Should anyone else be there, as well, my lord?”

  Without missing a beat, and certain that the abbot meant Molly, Wat glanced at Lady Meg. Her headshake was so subtle that he doubted anyone else noticed it.

  “We need no one else, Father,” he said. “We’ll go right in.”

  One of the younger menservants hurried to the inner chamber door and held it open for them.

  Offering his arm to Lady Meg, Wat gestured for the two priests to precede him inside and to the table. Then he murmured to Meg, “Did you ask her, then?”

  She did not answer but, head high, followed the priests to the table.

  “Ale or wine, my lord?” the young manservant asked from the doorway.

  “Not now,” Wat said.

  Recalling the noise on the service stair earlier and Edwin’s delay with their ale, he dismissed the lad, moved to the other door, and secured it, as well.

  “Me lady, ye’ve eaten gey little,” Emma said, frowning at the food-laden tray she had set before Molly some time before.

  Pushing it aside, Molly said, “I’m not hungry. I have things on my mind.”

  “Likely ye’ll no tell me about them, and I’ll no be asking ye,” Emma said. “Me da would ha’ the skin off me, did he hear I’d been prying into your business.”

  Feeling an urge to smile despite her concern about whatever was going on downstairs, Molly said, “Has he had the skin off you often, Emma?”

  “Niver, but he’s threatene
d it, and I’d no like t’ test him. Our Jed says it doesna do t’ vex ’im too far, and Jed would know. See you, he sassed Lady Meg once when we was small and smarted a sennight for that.”

  “They call your da ‘Lady Meg’s Sym,’ do they not?” Molly said.

  “Aye, so it doesna do t’ vex Lady Meg even a wee bit, even if ye dinna sass her. Not if me da’s around.”

  “And, I expect, he usually is.”

  “Aye, mostly, but she sent ’im out wi’ the lady Rosalie soon after them priests came here,” Emma said. “I dinna ken where Lady Rosalie were a-going, but I’d wager that steward o’ hers went wi’ them.”

  “Is that unusual?” Molly asked.

  “I canna said what be usual wi’ the lady Rosalie,” Emma said. “Me da says nowt about her or Lady Meg’s other kinfolk, and he doesna encourage questions. But I saw for m’self how that Len Gray watches her and keeps near.”

  “Your da does much the same with Lady Meg, though, does he not?”

  “Aye, sure,” Emma admitted. “But I havena heard naeone ever say that me da fair dotes on Lady Meg.”

  “Faith, do they say that Len Gray dotes on the lady Rosalie?”

  Emma shrugged. “Jed did say he’s heard it said more than once in the stables. He said we shouldna tell our da, but I’m thinking we should. Da should ken such things if he’s keeping his eye on her, aye?”

  Molly had no answer for that question, but she found herself wondering afterward if ladies, even widows approaching fifty, enjoyed amorous adventures with their stewards. It sounded like a dangerous pastime, to say the least.

  Moreover, the lady Rosalie was Lady Meg’s sister, and Molly had a feeling that Meg might disapprove of such a pastime, herself. When her fertile imagination presented an image of Rosalie vexing Meg and Lady Meg’s Sym taking the skin off Rosalie, Molly turned abruptly away from Emma to hide a grin.

  Nevertheless, as Emma’s da would say, it was no business of hers any more than it was Emma’s.

  “Shall we be seated,” Wat said, pulling a back-stool out for Lady Meg.

  Father Jonathan bristled. “I dinna ken what more we ha’ to discuss. If ye’ve aided the lady Margaret Tuedy to escape her husband, ye’re guilty o’ wife stealing. To be allowing your nan to aid and abet ye is no the mark of a civilized man.”

  Margaret Tuedy! Wat nearly growled.

  Aware of the abbot stiffening beside him and of Lady Meg’s tightening lips as she took her seat, Wat caught and held the priest’s gaze. “If Cockburn ever comes to his senses and throws you out, do not come here seeking sanctuary,” he said with grim disdain. “When you speak of my grandame, you will do so with respect and you will omit such ludicrous accusations. Do you understand me?”

  “Och, aye, I understand well enough that I ha’ nae more to say here. I’ll be taking me leave o’ ye, then.”

  “You will go when I say you may go,” Wat said icily. “Having made your ludicrous accusations, you will sit down and hear them answered.”

  Father Abbot said softly, “I think you will agree, Jonathan, that Piers Cockburn is likely to heed my advice, especially where his chapel is concerned. Therefore so should you. You have made several accusations since we arrived here. You would do well to hear what his lordship and Lady Margaret Scott have to say.”

  With a sullen shrug, the round little priest plopped down on a stool and made a glib gesture as if to say they might proceed.

  Wat glanced at the abbot, who took the seat he had occupied before.

  Taking his own chair beside Meg’s, Wat turned to face her. “You said you had information for us, madam. Are you ready to share it?”

  “I am,” she said, looking at the abbot and ignoring Father Jonathan. “You said that if Molly is still virgin, she can declare her marriage illegal, aye?”

  “I did say that. Are you telling me that she is still chaste, my lady?”

  “I am,” Meg said firmly. “And that she does declare that marriage illegal.”

  “Blethers!” declared Father Jonathan. “I can tell ye o’ me own knowledge that that lass was alone in her bedchamber with her husband. Moreover, they were there long enough to make any claim of her continued virginity preposterous.”

  Wat gritted his teeth.

  Before he could speak, Meg put a hand on his arm and said calmly to Father Jonathan, “You are offensive, sirrah. You can have no such knowledge, since you did not see what occurred in that bedchamber. Nor, I’d venture to suppose, did Ringan Tuedy boast about it. If he spoke honestly, you would know that she is still chaste. If he said otherwise, he’s an even poorer excuse for a man than I’d thought.”

  Turning to face the abbot, she said more gently, “Molly is as chaste as when she was born, Father Abbot. I will swear to it with my hand on the Bible if I must.”

  “There can be nae need of that, my lady,” the abbot said. “Your word is aye good. I will gladly support her declaration of the marriage’s unlawfulness.”

  “If her ladyship’s even seen the lass,” Father Jonathan snapped. “Have ye?” he demanded belligerently of Meg.

  “I have,” Meg said, meeting his gaze, her disdain equal to her grandson’s.

  Wat murmured dulcetly, “Do you accuse her ladyship of wife stealing?”

  Giving him a sour look, Father Jonathan refused to rise to the bait. “Fact is,” he said, “the lass’s chastity or its lack matters not a whit. Nor would it even if she submitted to and—by a miracle of God—passed a physical examination.”

  “Why not?”

  “Sakes, if we can be sure of anything, we can be sure that Tuedy, being the sort he is, will claim that he consummated his union. And people, being the way they are, will believe him, not her. That lass’s reputation will be shattered unless she returns forthwith to her husband. That be plain fact, and we all know it.”

  Wat heard truth in the man’s words and his heart sank. Catching the abbot’s gaze, he fought to calm himself. Beside him, he sensed his grandmother’s distress, although a glance reassured him that her demeanor remained tranquil.

  Father Abbot said, “You give us cause to ponder, Jonathan. Yet I ken fine that you have obligations to see to at Henderland Chapel. If his lordship will excuse you, we need keep you here nae longer.”

  “Aye, sure, I’ll excuse him,” Wat said sincerely. “Have you men to travel with you, sirrah, or would you like some of mine to escort you?”

  Father Jonathan hastily disclaimed any need for a bodyguard. His nervous manner suggested a suspicion that Wat’s men might be a greater danger to him than armed bandits would be.

  Wat did not reassure him. Barely waiting for the irritating priest to leave the room, he said to the others, “ ’Tis a bigger coil than we had imagined, is it not?”

  To his surprise, Father Abbot got up, walked to the door, and opened it. Leaning out, he waved at someone. Moments later, Wat heard him muttering.

  When the abbot shut the door and turned back into the chamber, he smiled at Lady Meg and said, “I knew you would worry about Father Jonathan’s safety, m’lady. You will be grateful to know that I have asked one of my men to see him safely to St. Mary’s Loch.”

  “How wise you are, your reverence,” Meg said. “I own, I was more concerned that he might linger to stir trouble here.”

  “You should have told your man to confer with the captain of my guard, Father Abbot,” Wat said.

  “That would be Jock’s Wee Tammy, aye?” the abbot said with a twinkle.

  “It would,” Wat agreed.

  “Aye, well, I did just mention to my chappie that he might tell Tam what my orders were. If that was overstepping, my lord…”

  “Not a bit,” Wat said, grinning. Then he imagined what Molly would feel, first learning that the abbot would support her and then what little good it would do.

  The grin vanished. He said, “Jonathan’s point does remain valid, Father Abbot. Although Molly has declared her marriage unlawful and refuses to return to Tuedy, she will have to return
to Henderland and face her family. I’d not wish that on any young female, let alone one whose family has betrayed her as Molly’s has.”

  “She can stay with me as long as she likes,” Meg declared.

  “Gram, you know that holds true only until her father commands her return,” Wat said. “We cannot legally prevent that.”

  “Then we’ll do it illegally,” Meg said. “We need not tell him she is here.”

  “Just how long do you expect her presence to remain secret?” he asked.

  “Not long enough,” the abbot said when Meg grimaced. Turning to Wat, he added, “But mayhap you have forgotten your promise to me, my son.”

  “What promise?” Wat asked him a split second before the echo of his own words at Melrose flooded his conscience and brought heat to his cheeks.

  “Why, you assured me that her ladyship would have your protection and that of your clan for as long as she requires it,” the abbot replied. “In my experience, my lord, the best way to provide such protection is to make the young lady your wife.”

  Chapter 10

  Wat fought to keep his countenance after the abbot reminded him of his promise, while every fiber in him wanted to shout, That’s not what I meant!

  He could scarcely tell the man that he had been offering protection for Molly only until it was safe for her to go home, not to protect her for the rest of her life.

  Not only was he ill-equipped to accept another huge responsibility on top of those he had just inherited, but to do so could also mean war with the Cockburns. They were unlikely to agree that her marriage to Tuedy was unlawful.

  The silence in the room grew heavy. Reminding himself that Father Abbot had done naught but echo his own words back to him, Wat stared at his hands. He dared not look at Lady Meg. He had neglected to tell her about that promise of his.

  Feeling her gaze on him, he was as certain as he could be without looking that her gray eyes had widened and her expressive mouth was agape.

  He was devoutly glad that Father Jonathan had left the Hall.