Amanda Scott - [Border Trilogy Two 02] (30 page)

“You know I do not, madam,” Amalie said.

“If you are going to be obstructive, Isabel, you must leave,” Fife said.

“I would remind you that Scottish law is on my side, sir,
and
that this is my house,” Isabel said indignantly.

“And I would remind
you
that this is
my
realm,” he said coldly. “I will allow you to leave with dignity and retire quietly to your chamber. If you refuse, I warn you, I have men in the entry hall awaiting my command. They will remove you and anyone else who tries to interfere with this wedding. Which shall it be?”

White-faced with fury, Isabel did not reply but stood up, turned to Amalie, and said, “I am abjectly sorry for this, my dear. I had no idea he had come to believe that he, instead of God Almighty, orders the entire universe.”

Fife’s tone did not change as he said, “Take your other women and the servants with you, Isabel. The lady Amalie will stay here.”

Isabel said nothing, but the other ladies got hastily to their feet and followed as she swept from the chamber. Most of the servants had already slipped out. Those who had not, fled with the ladies.

The door shut behind them all with a thump, leaving Amalie alone on the dais with a priest and three men determined to have their way with her.

Never in his life had Garth been so reluctant to leave a place. He perfectly understood his duty to the Earl of Douglas, and he knew that Archie would have no sympathy for a young woman forced to marry against her will. He’d have even less for a man who tried to interfere with that wedding, especially as Archie was friendly with the most powerful of the men seeking to see it accomplished.

Garth also was sure that even if he were to ride back to Sweethope Hill, he could do nothing to stop whatever was happening there. For one man to stand alone against the Governor of the Realm and a large force of his men, not to mention the lass’s own brother—now head of her family—would be utter folly.

The farther he rode, the stronger his reluctance grew. He had no idea how long Archie would want him to stay with him, or even if Archie would keep him. The summons might mean only that he wanted a report of all Garth had learned since their meeting at Scone. But Garth really did not care what Archie wanted.

The plain truth was that he had grown fond of the lady Amalie. The thought that men who ought to be protecting her were doubtless at that very moment forcing her to marry a man like Boyd grated on his very soul.

He had never before felt so helpless. What, he asked himself, was the use of his skill with a sword, lance, or dirk if he could do naught to help someone he cared about as much as he was coming to care about her?

As these and other such thoughts streamed through his head, Tam and Sym had been talking amiably. Garth had lent about half an ear to their discussion, mostly out of appreciation for Tam’s patience with the cheeky Sym, who asked endless questions about their route and location.

The lad had just demanded that Tam tell him what villages the river Tweed flowed through. Earlier, he had wanted to know the southernmost destination of the drove road they’d followed before turning off it to ride along the river’s north bank.

When Tam protested the apparently unending pelter of questions, Sym said, “And what happens to me if ye fall off your pony and die afore we get where we’re a-going, then, eh? I should ken every road and river, should I no? I ken them all fine for miles round Rankilburn Glen, after all.”

“Ye ken them all because ye followed Himself and the rest of us to places ye ought never to have gone,” Tam retorted indignantly.

“Aye, well, ye’ll no say it never did anyone any good, me having that ken. Now, will ye?”

Tam sighed, evidently in agreement. And for a few blessed moments there was silence but for the quick, steady clip-clop of the trotting horses.

The sun was touching the horizon, and Garth knew that after it set, they would have little more than another hour’s fading light, if that. He was about to suggest that they urge their mounts to a faster pace when Sym said, “Coo, who would that be now, a-riding after us like Auld Clootie’s own?”

Looking back, Garth saw the rider in the deep shadows of overhanging trees, and saw skirts and long hair flying as she rode. Reining his mount in, he narrowed his eyes. The woman was riding recklessly, taking a grave chance that she and her horse would meet disaster at any moment.

She was hatless, and her flying dark hair made him fear for a startling moment that it was Amalie. But when she emerged from the deepest shadows and dying rays of the sun glinted on her hair, they touched off coppery highlights.

In sudden dread, his mind making the sort of unreasoned leap he had once scolded Amalie for making, he wrenched his horse’s head around and kicked it hard to a gallop, meeting the lady Sibylla minutes later.

“What is it, my lady?” he demanded. “What has brought you here all alone like this, and at such reckless speed?”

“I dared take no time to persuade anyone else of the need, sir,” she said. “Nor could I dawdle, for the princess needs your help.”

“Isabel
sent
you?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Sibylla said. “I saw you in the yard before they came, so you know that Fife came with Simon of Elishaw. They mean to force her to marry Sir Harald Boyd. You must stop them, sir.”

“I’d be happy to stop them if I had any notion how I might do so.”

“I’ve been puzzling over that as I rode,” she said, surprising him. “The only thing I can think of is that Fife
can
not perform the marriage ceremony himself. The priest must do it. So, if you can but think of a way to stop a priest . . .”

“If he is Fife’s priest, he will do as Fife commands,” he replied.

“Even so,” she said. “You must think of a way. Fife has men in the entry hall, which can only mean that he is prepared to eject Isabel from the proceedings if she protests them.”

“How did you manage to slip past them?”

“I ran out of the great hall, holding one hand over my mouth and the other clapped to my stomach. They did not try to stop me. In any event, I went straight upstairs, so they had no cause to try.”

“So you managed to slip down the service stairs and out through the garden.”

“It was easy enough. Had anyone looked down the corridor as I opened the door, he might have seen me, but their attention was on the hall, so I had little fear. I demanded a horse, and Angus brought me one. He tossed me up and said he’d fetch a pair of grooms.” She shrugged. “We may meet them on our way back.”

Tam and Sym had followed Garth with the sumpter pony, and as they reined in beside him, Sym gaped at Sibylla. “That were ye, a-riding like Auld Clootie?”

“Is that how I rode?” she asked him.

He nodded, gazing at her in rapt admiration.

“What is it, my lord?” Tam asked. “What has happened?”

“We’re going back,” Garth said. “At once.”

“Ye dinna want us to ride on and tell the Douglas? He’ll be expectin’ us.”

“He’ll see us when we can get there,” Garth said. “For now, I want you to follow me. I mean to ride on ahead. You keep an eye on Lady Sibylla.”

“He can keep both eyes on me if he wants,” Sibylla said. “But I don’t mean to dawdle, so we’re all going to ride like the devil now, Sym. Can you keep up?”

“Aye, sure, m’lady,” the boy replied eagerly. “That be how I always ride when I’m no burdened with older, slower folk.”

Trying to collect herself, and remembering Sibylla’s advice about never giving a man the advantage of her agitation, Amalie drew a deep breath and let it out. Then she drew another. Although far from serene, she did feel calmer.

She had not looked at Simon or, indeed, at any of the men.

She heard the scrape of a bench shifting but kept her head up and her gaze fixed straight ahead.

Hearing footsteps, she was certain they must be Simon’s, but to her surprise, Harald Boyd stepped before her, wearing his most charming smile.

“Lass . . . my lady . . . if I have given you any cause to dislike me, I would ask your forgiveness now. I promise always to cherish you as a husband should.”

Amalie did not respond. He blocked her view of the doorway to the entry hall, but she could easily imagine it. Just as easily did she imagine that Garth stood there. She could look right through Sir Harald and, with utter clarity, see Garth.

“I told you it would do no good,” Boyd said. “I cannot think why she has taken such an aversion to me, but so it has been from the outset.”

“You did not even try to win her over,” Simon said.

“Why should it be necessary to exert himself?” Fife asked. “The arrangement is already complete, the forthcoming settlements decided. It is a suitable marriage for the lass, and for him. No more need be said. Father, we can begin now.”

“No,” Amalie said, still staring right through Sir Harald.

“Amalie,” Simon said sharply. “Recall whom you address and show respect.”

“I mean no disrespect, Simon, but I do have every right under Scottish law to refuse to marry a man I do not want to marry. Moreover, our lord father told me that he was withdrawing his support for this marriage.”

“Well, he did not tell me that,” Simon said. “On the contrary, he told me he favored the match. Sir Harald is a belted knight, a man of honor, and one whom you should be proud to wed.”

“I don’t want him,” Amalie said. “He treats me with disrespect and has from the moment we met. I want naught to do with the man, and since the princess knows that Scottish law supports my refusal, you must know it, too.”

“Young woman, come and stand before me,” Fife commanded softly. When she hesitated, he said in the same soft tone, “Would you dare defy your King?”

“With respect, sir, you are not his grace the King.”

“Nevertheless, I hold
all
his grace’s power,” Fife said. “To defy me is to defy the Crown of Scotland. Do you understand the penalty for such defiance?”

“Amalie, get up and do as he bids you,” Simon snapped. “Not only do I mean to see this marriage take place but if you do not obey, I’ll do whatever is necessary to force your compliance, and I will do it here and now. Do you understand me?”

“Threats of violence are unnecessary, Simon,” Fife said. “Clearly, your sister does not yet understand the power I wield. You need only explain it to her.”

With a nod, Simon said harshly, “To refuse his command is a form of treason, Amalie, punishable—if he chooses—by death.”

Chapter 16

A
shiver of fear rippled through Amalie. Recalling how easily Fife had ordered every detail of the coronation at Scone, and believing Simon, she got up.

Her knees felt unreliably weak, but she told herself that since she could not depend on anyone else in the room, she would have to deal with them all by herself. How she would do that, she did not know. She could not even think.

When the Governor gestured, she walked around the near end of the long dais table to the place he indicated in front of it, facing him.

“Now do you understand that I govern all Scotland and am not to be defied?” he asked her in that same soft, silky-smooth voice.

“Yes, my lord. But do you not have to obey the laws of Scotland?”

“Not when it does not suit me,” he replied. “Father, are you ready to begin?”

“I am, sir,” the priest replied. “But I must say that I cannot approve of marrying this young woman against her will.”

“Then it is as well for us that you are not the one to say what she will or will not do, is it not?” Fife said, looking sleepy. “You will stand here, beside me.”

“To be sure, my lord, all must be as you command,” Father Laurent said. As he obeyed, he said, “Sir Harald, come now and stand beside your intended bride.”

Sir Harald stood up, and Amalie’s hands curled into fists. She wanted to scream, and her feet itched to run. But she could see no escape.

Garth had urged his horse to its fastest pace, and the others soon fell far behind. Despite the lady Sibylla’s intent to ride like the devil, they’d had the sumpter pony to consider, so Garth had left it all to Tam to sort out.

Sibylla might have tried to keep up with him despite the sumpter, but her horse was blowing hard. She had to have pressed the poor beast fiercely to have caught them as quickly as she had.

When Garth dismounted at last in the stableyard, his horse’s sides were heaving, but one of the lads had heard the pounding hooves and came running. Garth tossed him the reins, saying, “Look after him, but don’t make a stir about it.”

Without awaiting a reply, he strode to the garden gate, hoping that no one had yet discovered that Sibylla had had to leave it unbolted. When it opened with its usual ease, he slipped inside. Dusk was fading to darkness, and the garden lay in shadows. But there was still enough light for anyone who looked out to see him.

The great-hall curtains were shut, and Sibylla had told him she’d seen guards only in the entry hall. Riding up the track, he had seen for himself that Fife’s men were still setting up their encampment on the hillside behind the men’s dormer.

None had paid the lone rider any heed.

At the postern door to the house, he remembered that if a man in the entry hall looked, he might see him moving about. Someone might also have taken the precaution of checking the premises and put a guard at the rear door.

Taking care but ready to declare himself a member of the household if necessary, he opened the door and stepped silently into the dim corridor. As he shut the door behind him, the one to the anteroom opened, and Isabel beckoned.

“We must hurry,” she said as she drew him into the little chamber. “Fife is determined she shall marry Harald Boyd despite her adamant refusal, and Simon has commanded her to obey. Even the priest is willing, law or no law. I do not think she can hold out against the four of them, sir. And Fife sent everyone else away.”

Garth muttered, “I have been trying to think. But in troth, madam, I do not know what I can do to stop them if you could not.”

“Do you
want
to stop them?” she asked, peering closely at him.