Amanda Scott - [Border Trilogy Two 02] (19 page)

“I warrant he’d take good care of you, lassie.”

She knew he meant Sir Harald, not Simon. She knew, too, that she would have to make her opinion of the man plain to him. Accordingly, she said, “You have not heard how Sir Harald speaks to me, sir.”

He looked at her, frowning so that his thick, graying eyebrows nearly met above the bridge of his nose. “What does he say?”

“He called me a bold, adventurous lass and suggested I reward him for warning me that my family was coming to visit.”

“Sakes, who would have told him such a thing o’ ye?”

She nearly told him, but a swift mental picture of him taking Simon to task, and the likely result to her of Simon’s losing his temper, stopped the words on her tongue. Instead, she said, “It does not matter. What matters is that he had the effrontery to repeat it to me. Why do you think him a good match for me? Is he wealthy? You said he has no grand estate? If he has anything, no one has told me.”

“Your marriage to him would double our connection to the royal family of Scotland, lass. One does not reject such a strong alliance.”

“But Simon enjoys that alliance. Why do we need Sir Harald?”

“Because one cannot have too many such. Look at the Douglases. The Master of Douglas married his grace’s eldest daughter, and if Archie has his way, young George of Angus will get the next one. James married Isabel, Will Douglas married the princess Gelis, and . . . there’s another one, aye. Let me think. Aye, sure, Douglas o’ Dalkeith married the princess Egidia, daughter o’ Robert the Steward. Like Douglas, the more such connections we Murrays can make, the better for us.”

“But what does he offer me besides false charm and a leering eye?”

Her father grimaced. “Amalie, lass, I’ve told ye I’ll take your side, and so I did when your mam would have pressed ye to stomach more o’ his company. In troth, Simon wants land for your dowry—to give Boyd, that is. I’m no so sure about that. If ye were bound to have him, ’twould be otherwise, but as ye’re not . . .”

“Does my mother know he wants our land, sir?”

“Faith, lass, I dinna ken, but I doubt Simon told her. She thinks a large estate must match Northumberland’s Alnwick. Though she visited only once, she sets great store by it. Also, Elishaw has never impressed her as much as it impressed her father, so mayhap she’d see nowt amiss in giving Boyd a good-sized piece. But the value of land lies in acquiring more, not dividing it. I’m thinking I’ll put my foot down.”

He sounded as if he meant it. But Amalie had known him all her life and had never seen him withstand her mother when she had made up her mind to something. She was as certain as one could be that he would not stand long against her ladyship in this matter either. She was also by no means certain that, by herself, she could withstand the combined efforts of her mother and Simon to force the marriage.

They strolled down to Eden Water and far enough along its bank for Sir Iagan to reassure himself that large trout still leapt through its tumbling flow. They talked of many things as they walked, but mostly Sir Iagan talked of the landscape and the trout, comparing them unfavorably to their counterparts at Elishaw.

As Amalie listened, her mind kept busy. If he could not help her, she would just have to persuade Sir Harald that he would gain nothing by pursuing her further.

Chapter 10

I
n time, Amalie and Sir Iagan wandered back toward the house, discovering as they drew near that a group of men-at-arms had gathered on the hillside behind the stables to practice swordsmanship and other skills. Sir Kenneth was supervising them, and Amalie looked to see who else was there.

“I see some o’ my lads,” Sir Iagan said. “After all these days of nowt but travel or standing about waiting for your mam to ready herself, I warrant they welcomed the chance to exercise.”

Amalie did not reply, because she had found Garth. Holding a sword in one hand and a dirk in the other, he faced one of the men-at-arms. His opponent was similarly armed, and they circled warily. They wore only light mail.

She stopped, her heart leaping to her throat. Were they mad?

Her father touched her shoulder. “What is it, lass?”

“Should they not be carrying shields, wearing stouter armor?”

“Nay, for they are but practicing strokes and parries. They look gey skilled, the pair o’ them,” he added as Garth’s opponent lunged and Garth struck a clanging blow to deflect his sword. That blow must have made the other man’s teeth ring.

Reassured, Amalie let her father urge her homeward and focused her mind firmly on how to discourage Sir Harald’s interest.

When they met him strolling out through the front doorway with Simon as if he had no duties to perform, she put her decision immediately into practice.

Ignoring him when he greeted them, she let her father reply.

Simon said, “Sir Harald wants to know you better, Amalie. You have my approval—aye, and Father’s—to walk with him here in the front garden.”

“My shoes are wet through,” she said. “So, you will have to excuse me, Simon.” Turning to Sir Iagan, she said with a warm smile, “I enjoyed our walk, sir. I hope you mean to stay for a few days.”

“I canna do it, lass. I’ve been away too long as it is. Your mam will go to the Hall from here, to be with our Meg at her lying-in. I’ll leave a few o’ my lads to ride with her, but Tom and I depart in the morning for Elishaw. Simon leaves, too,” he added, returning her smile. “He must go right back to Lauder.”

Only to Lauder?
She wanted to say it aloud but dared not. After Sir Iagan left, even with their mother still at Sweethope, Simon would assume all authority over his sisters. He had never hesitated to do so before, and his hand was heavy.

She knew her expression showed her disappointment, so she said, “Then I am doubly glad that you traveled this way, sir. It has been good to see you.”

“I’m glad, too, lass. Run along now, though. Ye should have told me your feet were wet. Ye’ll catch your death an ye’re no more careful.”

Smiling at him again, she slipped past Sir Harald and Simon without looking at or speaking to either of them and hurried up the stairs.

Garth had seen them pass and had noted Amalie’s interest but could not dwell on it, as to do so might have cost him an arm or worse. He was glad of the chance to hone his skills, though, and the man he had chosen as his opponent was quick on his feet and dexterous.

An hour later, when Sir Kenneth called to them to stand down, Garth decided he had done enough for one afternoon. Excusing himself to Kenneth, he offered to send Boyd back to aid him if he meant to continue the session much longer.

“Nay, I’ll deal with him later. These lads ken fine what they’re about. Duncan Forrest was a good leader, and I can see that you’re another, so we’ll do without Boyd when we can. He does not concern himself with the men, and I’ve seen him with a sword. He’s got skill, but he flourishes. A man shows much of himself in battle and nearly as much when he practices against others of like or lesser skill. He has never tested his weapon against you, I’m thinking.”

“Not yet,” Garth said. “I warrant the time will come, though.”

“We can hope,” Sir Kenneth said with a wry smile, clearly echoing Garth’s own words to him at dinner.

After tidying himself, Garth looked for Isabel to see if she had commands for him. Since servants would be preparing the hall for supper by now and the princess loved the walled garden, he went directly to the garden. The ladies Nancy and Susan strolled together along one of the paths, but he saw no one else there.

Entering the house, he met a maidservant by the rear stairs and asked where everyone was. She said the ladies were drying their skirts by the hall fire.

“Brushing against yon garden shrubbery turned ’em all streaky wet, sir, but the princess said she will no change again for supper. The lads do be setting up now, sir. We’ll serve in less than an hour.”

Entering the hall through the nearby anteroom, he saw that nearly everyone was there, including Boyd, who stood talking with Simon and Tom Murray. Boyd’s demeanor made it clear that he was acquainted with both, especially with Simon.

Sir Iagan was there, as were her ladyship and the younger lass, both chatting with Lady Averil not far from the cheerful flames on the hooded hearth.

Amalie laughed. She stood with Lady Sibylla, and as he crossed the room toward them, he saw Boyd disengage from the Murray brothers and move toward her. The feckless cush lengthened his stride as if he would beat Garth to them.

Having no wish to enter competition with Boyd over a lass he knew wanted no part of either of them, Garth altered his direction toward the fire without making it obvious, and paused beside Sir Iagan.

The older man had been staring thoughtfully at the flames, but he turned and smiled. “I watched ye earlier on the hillside, lad. Ye’ve a fine arm with a sword.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ve had a deal of practice.”

“I expect ye were at Otterburn or with Fife in the west, then.”

“I won my spurs at Otterburn, then traveled to Königsberg, in Prussia.”

“Did ye? I have never been out o’ Scotland save to visit my wife’s kinsmen. Ye must tell me o’ your travels.”

Shifting to keep an eye on Boyd, Garth complied and had his reward when Sir Iagan invited him to continue the conversation by taking the seat next to his at supper. Simon looked surprised to find Garth in the seat he clearly considered his own to grant others, but he took it with good grace, and sat at Garth’s right.

Boyd sat beside Simon. But he learned his error when Sir Kenneth usurped that seat, curtly informing Boyd that his place was at the end of the table.

Tom Murray, arriving barely before the chaplain said the grace, saved Boyd from ignominy by guessing rightly that Sir Kenneth would not give up the place to him, either. With little choice, he gestured to Boyd to stay put and took the end seat.

After supper, as they left the table, Isabel said, “Thomas, did you perchance bring your lute with you?”

“Aye, madam,” Tom replied, looking taken aback.

“We would enjoy hearing you play for us, if you will. After such a dreary day, doubtless we all want to enjoy the hall’s warmth and comfort a little longer.”

Tom went off to fetch his lute, and the others formed small groups as they had before the meal. Servants cleared its remains and dismantled the trestle.

Garth, glancing now and again at Amalie, was amused and then a little disturbed to see her make it a point to ignore Boyd. She did it deftly at first but grew noticeably ruder to the man as he persisted in annoying her. She finally said something to put flames in his cheeks that shot all the way to his ears.

Deciding that enough was enough and she was going about the business all wrong, perhaps dangerously so, he approached her at the next opportunity and said, “Take a turn about the room with me, my lady, if you will be so kind. I want to consult your opinion on a small matter.”

He half expected her to refuse, and when she did not, he suspected that she agreed only to annoy Boyd. Having no objection to that, he smiled and said, “What has that villain done to make you treat him so badly, lass? I’m astonished that the black looks you give him have not withered him to dust where he stands.”

She chuckled as she met his gaze. The hazel depths of her eyes reflected the golden light of myriad candles that lit the room.

“He deserves those looks,” she said. “But I do not mean to tell you what he said, sir. That he annoyed me is enough. What did
you
want to say to me?”

“Since he was clearly annoying you, I just thought you might appreciate the chance to walk away from him,” he said.

“Well, you should not have interfered,” she retorted. Any semblance of humor vanished in a blink as the golden lights turned to icy glints. “I
want
that odious man to know exactly how I feel.”

The surge of anger caught Amalie herself by surprise, so it took a moment to see that Sir Garth’s amiable smile had shifted just as quickly to a much harder look. His well-shaped jaw had tightened, his lips had pressed together, and the dimple at the left corner of his mouth had become much more pronounced than usual.

An unfamiliar sensation shot through her, a mixture of fear or wariness and something else that touched her core. Scarcely able to breathe, but feeling a strong urge to defend herself, she fought to find the right words—hastily.

“You see,” she said, “I cannot count on Father to let me stay unwed. He promises he will, but with my mother and Simon both so resolute, I doubt he can hold out. So I mean to make Sir Harald change his mind instead, about wanting me.”

“All you will accomplish by snubbing a scoundrel like Boyd is to make him relish the hunt more,” he said without the slightest easing of that hard look.

Raising her chin, she said, “In faith, sir, you offend me. Do you mean to say he sees me as some sort of prey to be hunted?”

“I do, aye, and it should not offend you to hear the plain truth,” he said. “One would hope you might learn from it.”

“Then what is that truth, sir—your truth? Explain it to me.”

“ ’Tis a simple fact of human nature that nearly all men view women as prey, lass. That is especially true of unmarried men seeking wealthy wives.”

“But I am no heiress,” she protested, remembering guiltily as she did what Sir Iagan had told her Boyd expected to gain as part of her dowry.

“Wealth or its lack won’t matter if you treat Boyd with such disdain,” he said grimly. “He will just enjoy the chase more, and want you more. When you react to him so, you challenge him, just as you would if you were to fling down a gauntlet before him. No knight could resist such a challenge.”

“I would remind you,” she said coldly, “that
you
are the one over whom I keep tripping. Are you defining your own motives, sir, or Sir Harald’s?”

The look he gave her then was murderous enough to shoot a thrill of fear through her from tip to toe.

“Amalie, Tom is back with his lute, and our mother would speak with you.”

Startled, Amalie turned to find Rosalie at her side.