Moonlight Raider Page 4

  “I shan’t starve,” she said, taking the seat he indicated. “Should I sit beside you, though? If your grandame is going to join us, or your lady mother—”

  “If you eat quickly, we can be away before Gram descends,” he interjected with a slight smile, “and my mother won’t come down for hours. I’d like us to walk in the yard for a time, because I want to ask some more questions, if I may.”

  “Certes, you may, sir,” she said. Turning toward young, fair-haired Edwin, who approached then to ask what she liked to eat, she said, “Prithee, I would like a lightly boiled egg, two slices of any cold sliced meat you have at hand, and toast.”

  “At once, mistress,” Edwin said, turning away as Wat took his own seat again and took a manchet loaf from a basketful on the table.

  “I’ve eaten,” he told Molly. “But these are fresh-baked. Do you want one?”

  “Nay, thank you,” she said. “My egg and toast will take only a few minutes to prepare. What did you want to ask me?”

  He hesitated, aware that men in the lower hall were watching them. Then, politely, he said, “Did you sleep well?”

  She raised her eyebrows, doubtless aware that that was not one of the chief questions in his mind. But she said, “Better than I’ve slept in weeks, aye. My bed was much more comfortable than what I’d expected to endure, and quiet, withal.”

  “Is your own bedchamber so noisy, then?”

  “It often is so when I go to bed,” she replied. Casting a glance around the lower hall, she added, “Our men think of naught save their own entertainment.”

  “Your men?”

  She gave him a quizzical look but turned away again when Edwin reappeared with a tray. “So quickly?” she said, revealing delight as well as surprise. “What excellent service you enjoy here, my lord.”

  Edwin chuckled. “This be gey quick even for Scott’s Hall, mistress,” he said, setting a bowl with her egg and a spoon before her. “See you, the chef had an egg on the boil for the housekeeper. When I tellt them both that I’d heard his lordship say he were eager to get outside, Mistress Ferguson said ye should ha’ this one. All I had t’ do was set bread to toast at the fire and slice your beef.”

  Thanking him, she fell to at once, and Wat did not question her further. Her enjoyment of her simple fare was clear. She broke her egg into the bowl, stirred it about, and used her toast to dip up egg before taking a bite. Then, rolling a slice of her beef into a tube, she daintily bit off an end and chewed.

  “Will you take ale, mistress?” Edwin asked her, reaching for the pitcher.

  Still chewing, she shook her head. Then, swallowing, she said, “I usually drink water when I break my fast. We have our own spring, you see. It bubbles right out of the rocks near the—” Breaking off, she looked down at the remaining toast beside the wee bowl and spooned the rest of her egg onto it.

  Realizing that she would say no more, Wat said, “Prithee, Edwin, bring our guest some water.”

  Molly looked up and smiled at Edwin but looked quickly away again and went on eating in silence.

  Wat glanced toward the archway leading to the private stair, half expecting to see Lady Meg step through it. But the archway remained reassuringly empty.

  “Did you not want to ask me more questions?” Molly asked him.

  “I do, but I’d prefer to talk in the greater privacy of the yard,” he said, glancing again at the stairway.

  Chapter 3

  Despite his lordship’s apparent tranquility, Molly sensed his impatience to get outside. She dreaded the forthcoming interview with his grandame more than any questions he might ask, so she was perfectly willing to oblige him.

  “I’ve finished eating, sir, if you want to leave.”

  “I do,” he said, standing and extending his right hand to her. “The others will be down soon, and I want to know more before I present you to my grandmother.”

  “Like what?” Molly asked, automatically putting her hand in his warmer one. As she stood, though, she gave a sad little sigh, fearing that its warmth would chill when he learned her identity and realized who her kinsmen were.

  She had nearly told him that the fresh spring water she usually drank with her meals sprang from rocks right near the kitchen door at Henderland. Few households in the Borders could boast of such a natural convenience.

  He said no more but placed her hand formally on his left forearm and escorted her from the dais.

  “You make too much of me thus,” she muttered, uncomfortably aware that most of the men breaking their fast in the lower hall were staring openly now.

  “Do I?” he replied sotto voce. “I think not.”

  Pressing her lips together but knowing better than to snatch her hand away, Molly resigned herself to behaving like a lady. Holding her head high, she let him escort her down the center of the lower hall toward its main entrance.

  As they neared the archway to the stairs, she expected any minute to hear Lady Meg hail them from behind. Surely, the old woman would demand to know why they had left the hall before bidding her a civil good morrow.

  Glancing up at his lordship to catch him looking back again toward what must be the privy stairs, she suspected that his thoughts matched her own. The notion relieved her worries until they reached the courtyard.

  Her sense of comfort vanished after they had descended the long flight of wooden steps to the yard’s still mist-damp cobblestones. They had taken only two steps on the stones when he said bluntly, “Is Piers Cockburn your father?”

  Her hand twitched on his arm, and although a good night’s sleep and long practice in hiding her feelings helped her avoid clutching that arm, she knew that he had likely detected her alarm. She also knew she dared not lie to him.

  “Aye, sir, he is,” she said. Anticipating his next question, she added bitterly, “And, may heaven save me, that villain Ringan Tuedy is my husband.”

  Wat gave Molly a long look. Her evident composure astonished him. So did the distance of her flight, the injuries she had endured, and the fact that she had dared to abandon her connubial duties. That she had escaped from such known brutes as Tuedy and her own kinsmen to do so was even more amazing.

  Her bruise was darker, more prominent than it had been the night before.

  She drew her shawl more closely around her and gazed fixedly ahead.

  Either she was unwilling to see his reaction or unaware that her admissions might have shocked him. In either event, he hoped that he had concealed his feelings. Experience with his sisters suggested that she would tell him more if he could hear her out calmly without revealing his emotions.

  She was apparently disinclined to volunteer much without coaxing, however.

  Deciding to ask the most obvious question first, he said, “Why did you agree to marry Tuedy if you believe he is a villain?”

  She looked at him then. “You did not seem friendly to him, yourself, sir. Do you think that any woman, knowing that man, would willingly marry him?”

  “All you had to do was refuse,” he said. “Scottish law is clear on that point. No one can legally make a Scotswoman marry without her consent.”

  The look she gave him then was scornful, the twist of her lips even more so. “So I thought, myself, my lord. I told them all, repeatedly, that I would not marry Tuedy. I even threatened to enter a nunnery if they tried to make me.”

  “Then how—”

  “Mercy, sir, do you think that all Scotswomen are allowed to preach laws to their fathers and brothers? Surely, you must know what my father thinks of the King’s laws. Your own father knew him. ’Tis why he and my father cooled their once close friendship. Recall that not long ago, Father ratified your lord father’s charter when his lordship signed over his lands of Glenkerry to the monks of Melrose Abbey in exchange for your Scott gathering place.”

  “Father acquired Bellendean eight years ago,” Wat said, surprised that she would know about that transaction. “They fell out only about two years ago.”

  �
��Aye, not long after King James expressed his determination to institute his own rule of law throughout Scotland. Father says that his grace is bent on undermining his nobles’ heritable powers on their own lands.”

  That was not news to Wat, so he said, “Many men do believe that. But others believe that it will be good to have our laws apply to everyone equally and for everyone to understand what the laws are wherever they may be in Scotland.”

  “Aye, perhaps, but my father has spoken angrily about ratifying that charter ever since then. What he thought of Lord Rankilburn for failing to understand that his support of the King went right against the interests of all Scottish landowners to act as they please on their own lands does not bear my repeating.”

  “Then, prithee, do not repeat it,” Wat said lightly. “I know Piers Cockburn disapproves of having one set of laws, determined by our Parliament, for all Scots to obey. But, on that point, I agree with my father and his grace, the King. Travelers should not have to worry about whether they are breaking any nobleman’s private rules when they have to cross his land.”

  She opened her mouth to speak again, but he interjected firmly, “That is a discussion for another time, my lady. At present, I would prefer to know why your father thought he could ignore nationwide laws of both the King and the Kirk.”

  “Because he often does so and knows that he can,” she said. “I believed, as you do, that I could refuse to marry Tuedy. So, I told Father and my brothers that I wanted no part of him. But it was useless. Tuedy and Will are friends, because they both love raiding,” she added, giving him a look. “I doubt that you will hold their beliefs on that subject against them. I ken fine that you have led raids, too.”

  “I know that Will is a fierce raider,” Wat agreed, ignoring the rest. “I did not know that all three of your brothers engaged in such doings, though.”

  “Thomas doesn’t,” she said with a slight smile. “He likes to build things and hopes to earn his own way when he is older. He kens fine that he’ll get little from Father, because Will inherits all save my marriage portion and a house in Selkirk that will go to Ned. I like Thomas, because he is kind and wise, and loathes violence. Will and Ned are violent, and love raiding just as most Borderers do.”

  “I won’t hold raiding against any man unless he chooses to raid my cattle or takes pleasure in killing innocent men, women, and bairns,” Wat said frankly. “As for Will and Ned, they have often joined me to follow Douglas or to chase English raiders back to England. But I still don’t see how your kinsmen forced you to marry Tuedy. Surely, he would refuse to marry a woman who didn’t want him.”

  “You don’t know him, then,” she said, looking away, apparently studying the gates. “He sought a stronger bond with my kinsmen, because he has land abutting ours northwest of St. Mary’s Loch. My father deemed him a good match for me, because Father had long feared a feud with the Tuedys of Drumelzier. You must know that, sooner or later, they feud with everyone they meet.”

  “So I have heard,” he said. “Did Tuedy approach your father first, then?”

  “Aye,” she said. “And despite my refusals, Father told me yesternoon that it was my wedding day and that he would hear no protest from me. He had our own priest perform the ceremony, and Father and Will both stood close beside me.”

  “Are you so afraid of them?” Wat asked. “Was there no one to whom you could turn for help? Surely, the priest—”

  “No one,” she said. “Our Thomas was in Peebles, so there was no time to send for him. But even had he been home, he would not have opposed the others. I barely had time to prepare myself. I wore one of my old gowns and my mother’s heavy wedding veil, which covered me to my waist. They bound my hands and stuffed a rag in my mouth. Will bound that in place, too. Then he gripped my hair under the veil. When the priest asked if I’d take Tuedy for my husband, Will jerked my head back and forth as if I were nodding.”

  “Surely, the priest could see that!”

  “Aye, sure, he could, and he could hear me protesting over the gag as loudly as I could. But Father Jonathan owes his living to my father and is terrified of Will and Ned. He babbled the whole ceremony as if his life depended on finishing it in half the usual time. When it ended, he presented us—Tuedy and me—to my brothers, my father, and our household servants as man and wife. Then he blessed us and fled before blessing our bed, as Father had told him he should do at once.”

  Fighting his shock that any Borderer would treat his daughter or sister so, Wat refused to compound their brutality by asking her about the bedding.

  “How did you escape them?” he asked instead, guiding her away from a group of lads setting up mats on the cobbles to practice wrestling.

  “Pure providence,” she said with a grimace. “Father had ordered a wedding feast, and they were about to serve it. Tuedy said it would not do for the servants to see me bound, so he’d take me upstairs to remove my veil and my bindings. I was terrified of him, but Father and the others just laughed and told him to take his time. He… he made me show him where my bedchamber was.” Color suffused her face. “I… I don’t want to tell you all he did then, but—”

  “I will not ask you, lass,” Wat said gently. “Tell me how you got away.”

  “I made him angry,” she said, touching the bruise on her cheek. “God protect me, I called him a beast.”

  She drew a breath, adding, “He hit me and took away my clothes, all save my shift. Then he shouted for one of his men and told him to stand at the door and make sure I stayed inside until his return. Right there, with his man watching, Tuedy said he would school me then to respect my husband—with his whip, if need be—and teach me what he would expect from his wife.”

  Her voice had lost all emotion, Wat noted. She repeated the threat that must have curdled her liver as if she were reciting a list of foods to replenish a pantry.

  She was staring straight ahead again with a set expression, as if she were remembering. Giving herself a visible shake, she met his gaze.

  Since he could think of nothing sensible to say, he kept quiet, hoping she would continue.

  The silence lengthened until he began to think he would have to prod her to describe her escape. Just as he was about to do so, she gave him a rueful smile and said, “I did nothing heroic to escape, sir. Or even particularly dangerous. I confess, though, that I was more frightened, leaving, than I had ever been in my life.”

  “I believe you,” he said more firmly than he had intended.

  “I believed I had no choice, though,” she said. “You see, I’d realized when Tuedy put his man at my door that he hadn’t noticed the service stairway, because a tall screen stands before its door to prevent drafts. So, as soon as they left, I fled down those stairs to the kitchen. Nearly everyone was in the hall, serving the meal. I grabbed a roll and some cheese and slipped out through the scullery door.”

  “I do recall that Henderland has no wall around it.”

  “Naught save a stockade round the stables and sheepfold. The tower itself is impregnable and boasts a wide view of the surrounding countryside. I waited until the men in the yard went in to eat and then made haste to the hills southeast of the tower. I knew that Tuedy would take his time eating and drinking. He had declared that having a guard at my door would be a lesson for me in humility.”

  Conscious of a strong urge to teach Tuedy a few lessons, Wat forced calm into his voice and said, “You were amazingly brave, I think.”

  “Do you? I assure you, sir, I did not feel brave. The worst part—before I heard Will’s sleuthhounds, that is—was climbing our hill south of the loch. I knew I’d be in view of the tower then. But the mist had lowered, and light was dim.”

  “What made you choose to come to Scott’s Hall?”

  “Mercy, I didn’t choose to come here,” she said, offering him another rueful smile. “I got fearfully lost in the forest. It gets dark so early now, and with the mist trying to hide the moon, I had barely enough light to avoid walking right
into trees, and I was terrified that I’d move in circles and find myself back where I started. I tried to keep the moon in sight and made my way as well as I could until I heard your dog. Then I heard your voice and Will’s hounds.”

  “Which is when you dove into the shrubbery,” he said. “I must tell you, lass, I know of no one who has ever gone to such lengths to avoid me before.”

  She gave him a look that ought to have withered him where he stood but made him fight back a smile instead.

  Despite their circumstances, he had felt comfortable teasing her a little. Had anyone told him twenty-four hours before that he could feel so at ease with anyone, let alone a stranger, this soon after his father’s death, he’d have denied it.

  Molly felt herself relax, almost as if some unknown force had opened her up and let all the horror and fear she had been remembering drain out through her toes and fingertips. Magical as it felt, common sense told her that the feeling stemmed more from the solid, plainspoken man beside her than from any supernatural effect.

  He seemed so sensible and strangely understanding for a man.

  She wondered at herself for thinking so, because he had said nothing to indicate that he understood a single thing she had told him, although he had had the civility to glide right past the time when Tuedy had her at his mercy in her chamber.

  He might just as easily have demanded to hear the details.

  So his lordship was evidently a gentleman born as well as a nobleman.

  His hazel eyes still glinted with his response to her glowering. She saw green flecks in them now but discerned no anger, certainly none to match what she’d have seen in Will’s eyes or Ned’s if she had glowered so at either of them.

  In fact, had she been able to understand why Walter Scott might smile at the minatory look she had given him, she would describe that glinting as a twinkle.

  He had spoken lightly about the lengths to which she had gone. Still, he must know that she dove into the shrubbery more to conceal herself from Will than from him. Any sensible man would know that, would he not?