A day! Laurie knew she could not dissuade him, and she could think of nothing to say that would not infuriate him, but her thoughts tumbled over one another. He was going to raid Liddesdale again, and the toll would be terrible unless she could do something about it.
“I hope that we understand each other now with regard to your position here,” he said, looking straight into her eyes.
“Aye, sir,” she replied letting his gaze hold hers and hoping that he would see no sign of the turmoil in her mind.
He nodded and opened the door for her, and she hurried past him to the stairway. Somehow, she would have to get outside the castle walls and make her way to Liddesdale to warn them of the coming raid. As warden of the middle marches, he would have even more authority to wreak havoc there, and she could not allow any more of her people to die at the hands of the English.
Upstairs in her bedchamber, as Laurie struggled to take off the torn dress without help, she realized that she could not escape Brackengill at once or on her own. She had walked often enough in the bailey to know where the postern gate lay, but she did not know how well guarded it was, and she did not have Bangtail Willie to help her.
She would need help, but whose? For that matter, did she dare involve anyone else? Her only real friend in the castle was Meggie.
She would need a horse, too, she realized. Her pony was in the stable, but she did not think any of the men would agree to saddle it for her without Sir Hugh’s permission. She certainly could not walk to Scotland in what little time she had.
Setting aside the yellow dress to be mended, she found one of her own dresses in the wardrobe. It had most of its fastenings in the front, and as she put it on, she contemplated her problem. Plainly, what was possible for a daughter of the house at Aylewood simply was not possible for a hostage at Brackengill.
Whatever she might try to do, she could not do it while Sir Hugh was still at home, or at night when the gates and ramparts remained heavily guarded. Indeed, before she could do anything to warn Liddesdale, she would need a reason to step beyond Brackengill’s walls, a plausible reason that Sir Hugh’s men would accept.
She was still struggling to think of one when her door opened without ceremony and Lady Marjory entered, saying, “My dear, are you ailing? When Sir Hugh said that you had come upstairs, I did not at first believe him, for I know that you rarely change your gown for supper. Oh, but I see that you
have
changed it. Still, he said you came up here over an hour ago! Did you spill something on the other one? I did not notice, but you should have sent for Griselda to help you.”
“I tore my sleeve, so I changed, madam,” Laurie said glibly. “Perhaps Griselda will not mind mending the yellow one for me if it is not beyond repair.”
“Oh, Griselda is a genius at mending things,” her ladyship said. “I will tell her to come and fetch it whilst we sup. Faith, but this room is like an icehouse,” she added with an exaggerated shiver. “You will catch your death, my dear Laurie. Do let me fetch someone to light your fire. It is nearly time for supper, of course, but in my experience, it will take hours to warm this chamber.”
Laurie smiled, brushing a stray curl back where it belonged. “Thank you for your concern, madam, but I am quite accustomed to the temperature here. I think that perhaps it bothers you more than it does me, coming from London as you do.”
“Oh, my dear, do not trouble your head about me. Although,” she added with a little sigh, “I did wonder where you had got to. I was hoping for a comfortable chat, and Sir Hugh does not seem to be in a conversational mood. He barely spoke ten words to me before going out into the bailey.”
“I’ll warrant you are bored, madam,” Laurie said with a smile. An idea stirred, and she added, “I wonder, would you enjoy a ride with me outside the castle walls tomorrow? We could ride down to the river and perhaps alongside it for a short distance. Neither of us has seen much of the countryside hereabouts yet.”
“Dear me,” Lady Marjory said, looking startled. “Would you really enjoy such an outing, my dear? I own, I am not one for physical exercise, but I have taken your measure, you know, and ’tis plain that you are not a sedentary young woman.”
“No, madam, I am not, and I have been fretting for exercise,” Laurie said, thinking that that much, at least, was perfectly true. She held her breath, hoping she was right in thinking that Lady Marjory still had small comprehension of her true position at Brackengill.
Her ladyship said thoughtfully, “Well, I know that Sir Hugh would say you ought not to ride out by yourself, and since there is no one else to ride with you, I expect that I must.”
“Pray, madam, do not put yourself out so for me. If you do not like the notion, I can ask Meggie. Or perhaps your Griselda would like to accompany me.”
“Godamercy, not Griselda,” Lady Marjory said. “She has too much to do. In any event, she takes horses in the greatest aversion. I tell you, it was all I could do to make her ride one here from Carlisle. I will go with you, my dear.”
“Thank you, madam. We should perhaps go down to take supper now. Oh, there is one other thing, though,” she added, smiling. “Sir Hugh has agreed to hire more maidservants, so I shall tell Meggie that she can send for some. Perhaps we can visit one or two tomorrow to see if we find them to our liking.”
“Whatever you wish, dear,” Lady Marjory said, clearly resigned to her fate.
The evening proved uneventful. Sir Hugh ate his supper with a haste that suggested he had much on his mind, and since he still seemed disinclined toward conversation, the meal passed without reference to the following day’s plan. The two women talked amiably for an hour after he left the table, and both retired early.
Laurie could only hope that her ladyship would not change her mind before morning and that she would not say something then to Sir Hugh about their planned venture. Since he usually got up, broke his fast, and left the castle before his aunt arose, Laurie told herself firmly that he would do so again on the morrow.
To her great relief, the next morning when she descended to the hall, there was no sign of him. Unfortunately, there also was no sign of Lady Marjory.
When Nancy came in to ask what she would like to eat, Laurie said, “I’ll go down to the kitchen myself, Nan. Do you run upstairs and tell Lady Marjory’s Griselda that I’d be obliged if her ladyship would join me as soon as she is dressed. Remind her, too, that we mean to ride out for a little exercise this morning.”
“Aye, mistress, I’ll tell her, but that Griselda, she dinna pay me much mind.”
“She will do as I ask, however,” Laurie said with a smile.
When the child had run upstairs, Laurie went to the kitchen to confer with Meggie. She believed that she was safe enough in telling the woman that she was going beyond the wall. She knew Meggie well enough to be nearly certain that she would not reveal the plan to Sir Hugh unless he asked her a direct question.
Therefore, having ascertained that he had broken his fast and left the castle, she said, “I’m going to ride out for a bit with Lady Marjory, Meggie, but I wanted to tell you before we go that Sir Hugh has agreed to hire more maidservants.”
“Mercy,” Meggie said, her eyes lighting. “That’ll be a blessing, that will.”
“Aye, it will,” Laurie agreed. “He did not say how many, so I shall leave that to you to decide.”
“There was two kitchen women here afore me, Matty and Sheila. They had some lassies, as well, to do the cleaning and such.”
“Choose as many as you like and ask them to come straightaway,” Laurie said. “I told Lady Marjory that we might visit one or two of them on our ramble this morning, so if any live close by, perhaps your Andrew can ride with us to show us the way,” she added.
“Faith, mistress, if ye can persuade Matty and Sheila to come back, I’ll thank ye for it, but I warrant that Lady Marjory will want armed men to escort ye, not a bit lad like my Andrew.”
“Surely, we will be safe so long as we stay near the castle,” Laurie said.
“Aye, well, but if Ned Rowan be in the yard, he might ha’ summat t’ say about my Andrew going. He said he’s t’ stay wi’ the pots, and even if he’s gone wi’ the master, he might ha’ told that Geordie t’ keep Andrew inside.”
Laurie had thought of that. “I’ll tell them we do not mean to go far and that I’d like Andrew to accompany us. I know he is eager to get out of the kitchen, and I think even Ned Rowan would allow it in such a case as this. They can send a couple of men with us, too, but I do not want to look like some sort of raiding party.”
“Aye, perhaps they’ll agree.” Meggie gave her a straight look, but Laurie met it blandly, turning away a moment later to take a hot roll from a rack by the oven. Breaking bits from it, she ate it standing, and then picked some fresh berries from a bowl nearby.
Watching her, Meggie said, “Will ye no want more than that?”
“Nay, ’tis enough.” She was too tense to eat. “I’ll find Lady Marjory and see what she would like.”
“My Nan will look after her, mistress. Ye’ll gang softly the day, d’ye hear?”
Laurie grinned. “Never fear, Meggie. Whatever you are thinking, I’ll soon be right back here underfoot again.”
“As if I’d want ye gone,” Meggie exclaimed. “Dinna talk so daft! The place hasna been the same since ye came, mistress. ’Tis livelier now, and nae mistake.”
Her words warmed Laurie’s heart but at the same time filled her with guilt.
Surely, Sir Hugh would lay the blame where it belonged when he learned what she had done—as she was certain he would. He would not blame Meggie.
Lingering only long enough to learn where she would find Matty and Sheila, Laurie informed a delighted Andrew of his good fortune, then went to find Lady Marjory and urge her to some semblance of haste.
Despite these efforts, however, it was nearly two more hours before her ladyship, their horses, and the two men-at-arms who would escort them were ready to depart.
The next step that she stepped in,
She stepped to the chin…
D
ESPITE THE FACT THAT
Hugh’s morning had gone quickly and well, his mood at best was precarious. He had had only to tell his middle-march land sergeants that he meant to put an end to Liddesdale’s mischief to stir them to action. By the time he had spoken to the first lot of their followers, promising them horses and supplies from Brackengill, he knew that Ned Rowan and his sergeants would easily collect an impressive army by the next day’s sunrise.
He had met Lord Eure shortly after sunrise at Kielder, and Eure accompanied him for an hour or so, but since the ex-warden had done little to impress the citizens of his march, Hugh soon saw that he might as easily have sent Ned Rowan alone to rouse them to arms. The men were ripe for adventure. Many already were aware that raiders were on the move again and believed they were Liddesdale reivers. The men insisted, and Hugh agreed, that when King James surrendered Buccleuch to the English at Berwick, his submission would only stir more trouble in the region.
Hugh also knew, however, that Scrope and his lot had been busy spreading rumors about Grahams in general and himself in particular. Many of his new constituents had congratulated him on his recent nuptials, and although he began by trying to explain his relationship with Laura Halliot, he had given up that tactic before reaching the second hamlet.
His own men and many others, as well, understood handfasting. They also understood the concept of holding a hostage. Thus, logically, he thought, they ought to understand his position with regard to his present hostage. But he had already come to realize that since the hostage was female, many understood only the handfasting. The reason for it mattered not one whit.
They, like Scrope and Lady Marjory, saw only a ritual that anticipated cohabitation. In their eyes, that equaled marriage. Although some strongly disapproved of marrying across the line, they had heard the lass was bonny and seemed to think that Sir Hugh would sort out any legal difficulty with ease.
He had risen before dawn and spent half of a long morning with Eure, Ned Rowan, and one of his sergeants. However, after meeting the same eager reception even after Eure had returned home, Hugh left Ned and the others to their task and turned back toward Brackengill alone.
The warm sun shone brightly on the landscape, turning the browning hills to gold punctuated here and there with patches of still-green grass or spreading branches of an oak or a beech. The air smelled fresh and redolent of warm earth, wildflowers, and drying grass. Narrow, tumbling burns sparkled in the sunlight. Birds chirped merrily above the soft thuds of his pony’s hoofbeats, and the hushing of wind in shrubbery as he passed sounded like ladies whispering to each other.
His thoughts were busy, for there was still much to be done before he rode into Scotland. Meggie would have plenty of food to bundle up, but the lads would see to all that. That thought took him straight to thinking about Laura, however, rather than to the next step in his own plans.
In his mind’s eye, he could see his curvaceous, wide-eyed little hostage standing before him, calmly telling him that he had failed to look after his people properly. She looked so small and vulnerable, so childlike. Yet she had not hesitated to tell him that he had failed to take care of things as he should. The telling was something his sister Janet might have done, but the odd thing was that he had not resented Laura’s interference as he would have resented Janet’s.
He and Janet had rarely got on well together, though. He had never troubled himself to think much about that before, but now, looking back, he decided that the trouble had started early. She had been but a bairn when their parents died, when he had inherited Brackengill and responsibility for the welfare of all of its inhabitants and tenants. That included, of course, the welfare of his little sister. Though he could scarcely complain about it to anyone else at this late date, he knew now that at twelve he had been far too young to bear such heavy responsibility.
Then, of course, he had seen only his duty. Moreover, his uncle Brampton had encouraged him to shoulder that duty manfully rather than ask anyone else to step in. Both his uncle and his resident tutor had been stern, humorless men, and Hugh had taken his tone from them. He had treated Janet much as they treated him, and she had defied him as often as not, giving back as good as she got. In the end, she had been as defiant as ever and had betrayed him as easily as if it had been nothing, to follow her lover across the line into Scotland.