Amanda Scott - [Border Trilogy Two 02] (40 page)

“I cannot let you do that, Archie,” Fife said calmly from the archway. “That man serves me. If he has done aught to displease you, he will answer to me.”

“Done
aught
? This gallous blackguard murdered my Will!”

Fife frowned. “Have you evidence of that? I find it hard to credit.”

Indicating the man who had spoken earlier, Douglas said, “This is Will’s own man, who was with him in Königsberg and Danzig. Will himself named Ben Haldane as his killer, and Will’s man says this foul miscreant is that same Ben Haldane, for all that he may call himself otherwise.”

“Nonsense, this man is Sir Harald Boyd, who has served me loyally.”

Simon, who had not stirred from his position near the dais table, said in a quiet but nonetheless carrying voice, “Even so, my lord, Boyd attempted to force matters here tonight by holding me, my sister, and the lady Sibylla hostage to his will. He likewise claimed that it was by your own order that he did so.”

“Did he?” Fife frowned at Boyd. “If so, he has much to answer for, certainly. Nay, do not speak, sir,” he said sternly to the offender. With more intensity, he added, “I warn you, you can do yourself no good thereby. Now, what of this charge from Danzig? Did anyone
see
him commit the crime?” He looked at Garth.

“Only Will Douglas,” Garth said. “Will did name him to me, however.”

“He named Ben Haldane,” Fife reminded everyone. “This is Harald Boyd.”

“Aye, my lord,” the man with Douglas said. “But I ken Ben Haldane fine, for I saw him many times up close, and this be him.”

“I do
not
know you,” Boyd said. “Therefore you cannot possibly know me. Sakes, but I was never
in
Danzig.”

“There, you see,” Fife said. “Still, I will look into this matter, and if there is anything to the crimes you believe of this man, I
will
see justice done.”

“I mean to try him myself,” Douglas said. “I’d see him tried fairly.”

“I’m afraid not, Archie,” Fife said. “I am Governor of the Realm, after all, so he is mine unless you choose to test my authority over this.”

Douglas hesitated and then shook his head.

Garth shot a questioning look at Wat. Receiving a nod, he drew a breath and looked at Amalie. Well aware of the pain he was about to cause her, and likely Simon, too, he said, “There is an additional crime to consider, my lords.”

“By my faith, what else?” Fife asked, sounding bored.

“Another murder and another accusation leveled at this man.”

“You refer to Haldane again, I must assume.”

“No, sir. This time the witness implicated Boyd himself. I’m sorry for this, my lady,” he said to Amalie. “My apologies to you, too, Murray. I had not intended to deliver the information to either of you in this way.”

“Tom!” Amalie exclaimed softly. “Where is Tom? He ought to have come with you, my lord,” she said to Buccleuch.

“Tom Murray is dead,” Garth told Fife. “He was on his way to deliver the news of his father’s death to Lady Murray at Scott’s Hall when Boyd and three of his followers hunted him down. A clumsy matter it was, too, I’m afraid, because Tom Murray had two of his own lads with him. All three are dead.”

Fife said with a sigh, “Then I fail to see what evidence you can—”

“One of them lived long enough to identify Boyd,” Garth said. “If you need testimony to that effect, I can give you the names of the monks who heard him.”

“As I said,” Fife said curtly, “I will see justice done. At present, however, though I’d intended to stay here, I shall ride back to Jedburgh tonight. This place is too full to offer suitable accommodation for all of us. You will come with me, Boyd, but leave your sword here. It will be a good lesson to you.”

No one suggested that they stay, but no one looked happy to see them go.

Chapter 21

H
e will see justice, eh?” Douglas muttered when the men-at-arms who’d aided Boyd had hurried after Fife and the sounds of their departure faded down the stairway. “ ’Tis more likely that he will reward Will’s murderer for his villainy.”

“With respect, my lord . . .” Simon began quietly.

Amalie, still stunned by the news of Tom’s death, glanced at him and saw that, for once, her always- confident brother looked uncertain.

Sibylla was watching him, too.

“What is it, Murray?” Douglas asked sourly.

“Although I warrant Boyd thinks just as you do, sir,” Simon said, “I believe the Governor will keep his word to you.”

Amalie agreed.

Everyone was looking at Simon now, and she saw both Wat and Sibylla nodding as if they, too, knew what he would say and agreed with him.

Douglas frowned. “Do you think he means to do away with the man then?”

“His lordship does not tolerate fools or those who act without his orders, sir, and he did not order Boyd to kill my brother. He’d have had no cause to do so.”

Simon seemed to have himself under rigid control, as if he were fighting strong emotion. Although it was hard for Amalie to imagine him having emotions other than annoyance, fury, or stiff-necked pride, she thought he might be sorry about Tom’s death.

She certainly was, more than she had expected to be.

Wat said thoughtfully to Douglas, “Experience does indicate that Fife will keep Boyd from speaking out if Boyd can connect him to any of this.”

Sibylla nodded again.

Amalie said, “Fife will certainly see Boyd as a risk to himself. And he removes risks and obstacles. He would have removed you, Simon. I am sure of it.”

Simon met her gaze but looked bewildered. “You said he would kill me, Amalie. I’m grateful that you rushed here to warn me, for I’d not have expected that of you, but Fife knows I am loyal to him.”

“But don’t you see? Fife wants Elishaw just as he wanted other valuable places he has seized. Mayhap you were not in danger whilst you were willing to give him part of it and force me to marry Boyd . . .” She hesitated when she saw him wince. Satisfied though that he was listening to her for once, she added, “Will Fife be as certain of your loyalty after Boyd tells him you refused to sacrifice Rosalie?”

“But you exaggerate the danger,” Simon protested. “I can see that you’re thinking of the Strathearn estates and that like others, who should know better, you see something fiendish in his just wanting to protect his niece’s lands for his family. Even if you should prove right about that, Elishaw is not nearly the size of Strathearn.”

Douglas said, “Not as vast, but Elishaw is strategically more important to our safety than Strathearn, and a considerable Border stronghold withal. Go on, lass.”

Before she could, Garth said evenly, “Art sure of all this, Amalie?”

His tone disturbed her, but she met his narrowed gaze and said honestly, “I can tell you only what I thought, sir, which was that Fife might kill Simon. That did seem clear to me before I left Sweethope Hill.”

“We will discuss that particular decision later,” he said in that same even tone. “Explain what you meant about Fife.”

“He seizes things just to control them, I think,” she said slowly, trying to discern and isolate all the bits of thought that had fallen together so abruptly and sent her hotfoot here to Elishaw. “And, then too . . .”

It was hard to think with him looking at her so sternly.

“. . . there is also my father’s death, and Tom’s,” she said.

“Do you accuse Fife of
ordering
their deaths then, when Simon does not?”

“Mercy, sir, I cannot claim to know what Fife ordered or did not order,” she said, aware now only of him and paying no heed to the others.

“But you did not know about Tom when you left Sweethope,” he said.

That his attitude had altered the moment he’d focused his thoughts on her was only too apparent. The way he looked at her now prickled her spine.

She wanted to be alone with him, not just so she could think better and explain but also to touch him and feel him touch her.

She would have to defend her actions first, though. Recalling that at least one of them had been in direct defiance of what he had told her to do, she swallowed hard. She had not thought much about that before, but she did now.

“Go ahead, lass,” Wat said, startling her. “Tell us what you did think.”

Looking at him, receiving a nod of encouragement, she said, “It was just a feeling at first, I expect. But Tom’s death makes me sure the feeling was right. No one who was here tonight can doubt that Boyd wanted this castle.”

Simon shook his head. “He wanted Rosalie because he could not have you.”

“He didn’t want
me
, though. He wanted what marrying me would get him. You told Tom as much yourself, Simon—
and
that Boyd would overlook my faults,” she added steadily. “Father said he didn’t like Fife’s having promised Boyd land as part of my dowry. He said the value of land lies in acquiring more, not dividing it.”

“I’ll admit I feel the same,” Simon said.

“Aye, now that you’ve inherited Elishaw,” Amalie said. “I could see it.”

“I don’t blame you for believing that,” Simon said. “But I disliked the notion from the first. I didn’t see why Fife would not give Boyd Crown land to reward his knighthood, or at least land other than what I was to inherit.”

“Land that our father owned and Tom would inherit if you had died,” Amalie said, thinking aloud. “The simple answer to your puzzlement is that Fife is grasping and cannot bear to give up anything he has taken for himself, which includes Crown lands. Indeed, one wonders if he would have let Boyd keep Elishaw if the man
had
succeeded in taking it. If they were willing to kill our father and Tom so that—”

“Here now, lassie, you’ve no real evidence to support any of that,” Douglas protested. “Bless us, but you begin to sound like Isabel! Fife thought two knights defending the area near Carter Bar would mean a stronger defense, and that is all there is to it. You cannot deny that it would either, for ’tis nobbut plain truth.”

Amalie’s gaze met Simon’s again. “Father said he would support my refusal to marry. And, sithee, he died soon after that. Moreover, tonight Boyd said that Fife would keep his promise to give him the land whether you lived or died, Simon.”

“Sakes, lass,” Douglas said. “Boyd could hardly do away with Simon so soon after your father’s death and Tom’s without all of us suspecting foul deeds.”

“I doubt, however, that Boyd thought anyone would learn of his part in Tom’s death,” Garth said. “Had one of the victims not lived long enough to identify him, we’d know nowt of it even now.”

Simon said, “I’m curious about that identification, Westruther. I note that although you’ve mentioned that victim’s evidence twice now, you have not said that he
named
Boyd, only that he identified him.
Did
he name him?”

“Tell him,” Garth said to Tam.

After a glance at Buccleuch, who nodded, Tam said, “The monks said the lad told them he knew the killer came from Sweethope Hill because he’d seen him there himself. He said the man was all arrogance, a chap who strutted like a cockerel and dared to take the seat beside Sir Iagan at supper when others had more right to it.”

“That was Boyd,” Garth said to Simon. “I was there, too, you’ll recall, and you know as well as I do that only one man sat beside your father that day. The princess sat to his left. Boyd was on his right, and you yourself sat on Boyd’s right.”

“You did, sir,” Sibylla said quietly.

“I did, aye,” Simon agreed. To Amalie, he said, “Even so, I don’t see how you came to fear so much for my life that you rode here to warn me.”

“I . . . I’m not sure now, either,” she admitted, avoiding Garth’s gaze. “I truly don’t recall a single thought save the one. But in view of Fife’s plan for Rosalie—”

“That’s another thing,” Simon said. “How could you even have known that?”

“I told her,” Sibylla said, drawing Simon’s astonished gaze to herself.

Hastily, Amalie said, “I knew you’d never stomach that, Simon, and I feared with everything in me that Fife would kill you when you defied him. I expect there was more to it than that. But you know how it is with me, sir, how my thoughts just tumble over each other. Conclusions often form before I
know
how they do.”

“We will discuss that, too,” Garth said, giving her another look of warning that his displeasure with her remained strong. To the others, he said, “It becomes clear that we will not resolve this tonight, and I expect we will all be the better for sleep. Our men will look after themselves, Murray, but with Fife gone, I expect you can put Douglas, Buccleuch, and me up for the night, can you not?”

“Aye, sure, and welcome,” Simon said. “I’m sleeping in the great chamber, because I knew my mother would insist that I should. But I’ve not moved her things out yet,” he added dryly.

“Mercy, I should think not,” Amalie said, smiling sympathetically at him. Then, realizing it was the first time she could recall smiling at Simon in years, she caught her lower lip between her teeth.

“You’re right, lass,” he said, smiling back. “I’d not dare move a thing. I own, though, I’d like to have watched her deal with Boyd over our Rosalie.”

“Rosalie again!” Wat exclaimed. “What
is
all this business about Rosalie?”

Simon said, “I expect someone told you that Boyd expected to marry Amalie.” At Wat’s nod, he said, “When he could not have her, he decided to take Rosalie instead. In fairness to Boyd, that
was
Fife’s idea,”

Wat chuckled, saying, “He expected Annabel Murray to agree to that?”

Amalie was not as sure as they all were that her mother would have objected. Had Boyd managed to persuade her that the connection would enhance Murray power, she feared that Rosalie would quickly have become Lady Boyd.

However, that question now being moot, she held her tongue.

Simon said, “Buccleuch, you and Douglas will be comfortable enough in my old chamber. That way, the lady Sibylla can have Tom’s—”

“Sibylla will sleep with me, of course,” Amalie said. “She has no maid—”

“No, she won’t sleep with you,” Garth interjected. “You may let her have your old room if you like, but you will share mine.”