Hunted (The Scottish Falconers Book 2) (3 page)

“Isobel,” Derek whispered as she helped him hobble over the jutting rocks and fallen logs, “why are we not taking the roads?” He didn’t want the Graham men to hear him. They were in foul moods, cursing and struggling with the donkey and cart over the rough terrain.

“’Tis safer to avoid the English.” She shot him a worried look when his bad leg buckled, nearly taking them both to the ground.

Behind them, William giggled.

“Hush, Willie, that’s not verra nice.” Catriona had the boy by the hand to help him stay upright as well. “Ye wouldna like it if Derek laughed at you for falling.”

“Nay, I would laugh too,” the little boy declared.

“Da said we will come to a bit of easier ground once we get out of Dunnottar Woods. Did yer stitches open, Derek?”

“I felt something tear. We can check when we stop. I dinna wish to make yer menfolk angrier.” The Scottish accent was coming easier to him now that he had spent two days in the company of these Scots.

Isobel glanced back over her shoulder. “Cat, you and William go on ahead. We’ll catch up shortly.” She pulled Derek to a stop near a tree. “Here, hold onto the tree, and I’ll check yer stitches.”

Derek quickly looked for her father and two brothers. They might not appreciate their daughter peeking inside a man’s breeches. But the men were far enough ahead and busy dealing with a recalcitrant Roger. They wouldn’t notice this.

So, he panted for breath, holding onto a tree while this beautiful Scottish woman pulled his shirttail up and his waistband down. She was so close he could feel her warm breath on his skin. His anatomy liked it, and in a moment, he knew that she had noticed this fact. She tipped her head back to see his face and smiled broadly.

“Ye must be feeling better, but there is a little blood on yer bandages. I’ll need to change them.”

He reached down with one hand and pulled his breeches out of her grasp and back into position. “Aye, later.” His voice came out hoarse and thick.

Derek would have liked to talk to Isobel more, but he didn’t have the breath to spare. Why did she become a falconer? Hunting was not a normal interest for a female. How did she feel about people who were not full-blooded Scots? He was only part Scottish.

They were moving on through the forest again. Dead leaves and thick pine needles carpeted the ground, making footing slippery in places.

After another hour of toiling to get through the tangles of low-hanging branches and bramble bushes, they reached a narrow horse trail. Derek and William were able to get back into the cart and ride.

Derek wedged himself between the sacks, and William curled up beside him. In minutes, he was asleep with one arm over the boy.

* * *

Men are so stubborn.
Isobel walked beside Derek, who had insisted on walking the final distance to Crathes Castle. Every so often, he held onto the side of the donkey cart for support. He didn’t talk, so she knew this had to be taking a toll on him.

They stopped before reaching the castle.

Da wanted to approach the place at night to draw less attention. He and Fin called their respective falcons to their fists and went ahead, leaving the rest of the Grahams, Derek, and William to wait for their return. If the English had taken Crathes Castle too, they would move on without stopping here.

Isobel sat on the ground beside Derek, who was resting with his injured left leg straight out as he leaned against a tree. Across from them, Rabbie had Catriona on his lap, and William slept in her arms. Rabbie’s arms encircled them both, and he was occupied kissing his wife.

The sight of this family-style bliss made Isobel sigh. Of course, it was right for Rabbie to have wed first; he was the oldest. Catriona, the late baker’s daughter, was just right for Isobel’s big brother. She was the perfect combination of softness and steel.

“They look verra happy.”

“Aye. I imagine they are,” Isobel agreed without looking at the weary man beside her.

“Can I ask ye something, lass?”

Now she turned toward him. In the darkness, his expression was difficult to see. “Aye, I suppose.”

“Do ye have a sweetheart?”

Isobel hated to answer Derek’s question, but the truth was, most young men were afraid of a woman who trained and hunted with falcons that could rip your eyes out.

“No.” She hoped he wouldn’t ask why.

“Ye should. Yer verra bonnie.”

“Well, I dinnae. Can we no just change the subject?”

He put a big, warm hand over hers. “Aye, we can speak of whatever ye like, Isobel. Can I call ye Belle like yer family? ’Tis a pretty name, just like its owner.”

She stared into the darkness, expecting to see the gleam of white teeth as he smirked at her. But Derek’s face appeared to be somber. She blinked and looked harder. No smirk; his face was soft and his eyes were kind.

“Thank ye. Aye, I would like it if you used my short name.”

“I wanted to ask ye earlier, but how is it you came to train hunting birds?”

Isobel loved to talk about falconry almost as much as she loved doing it. Sliding closer to Derek, she leaned back against the tree too, her hip touching his uninjured right hip.

“Da is … or was … the Grand Falconer at Dunnottar, as ye ken as one of the men-at-arms there. Ever since I was a little girl, I’d help him out in the mews—”

Derek put a hand on her arm. “Sorry, but what is a ‘mews’?”

“Did ye never walk around outside the palace at Dunnottar, Derek Sinclair? Why would ye not know that the mews is where the falcons live when they are not hunting?”

“Oh, I’ve seen the building, but didna remember what it was called. Must have gotten that bit of information knocked out of me haid by the English. Go on.”

* * *

Derek listened to Isobel describe how much she and her brothers loved the birds and everything about the training and flying of them. He told himself to be more careful or his story would be uncovered and that would be his undoing.

As the night deepened, the only light was the dim light from the half moon. A foggy mist came creeping in, flowing around the newlyweds and reaching for Derek and Isobel.

“Come, everyone. They’ll have us at Crathes,” Boyd said as he and Fin appeared suddenly out of the mist.

Derek wondered if his hearing had gone bad or if these Scots were actually so silent and catlike.

“What will ye do with the falcons?”

Derek pointed to the three Peregrine falcons. They sat hooded and perched like sentinels on three T-shaped wooden structures that had been driven into the ground. The birds had remained eerily silent while they waited.

“We’ll bring them with us,” Fin answered. “They are the reason we can gain entrance to the castle. I’ve never met a man who doesna like the hunt and sport of falconry. Alexander Burnett of Leys is no exception.”

Rabbie walked over, and seeing Derek beginning to rise, put out a hand and helped him up. “Aye, Da says that Burnett has heard of the Graham falconers.”

“Thank ye for your assistance.” Derek rubbed his left thigh to try to ease the cramped muscles.

“Unfortunately, Sinclair, he’s never heard of ye,” Fin said with a scowl, “I’d watch my back if I were you.”

Isobel took her brother’s arm. “Why did you say that? Is Alexander Burnett a bad man? Is he evil?”

Derek longed to wipe the fear off her face. Was she afraid for him or for all of them?

“I dinna ken, Belle, ask Da. All I ken is he seems to have no trust in strangers. He could be right.” Fin slanted a glance at Derek. “This man here may be no threat now, being weak as a kitten and hurt, but things can change.”

Fin leaned closer to his sister and said something Derek couldn’t hear. She dropped his arm, slapped at his shoulder ineffectively and scowled. Whatever Fin had said, Isobel did not like it.

The ragtag group of Scots were admitted into Crathes Castle under cover of darkness. Isobel followed the donkey cart where Derek walked holding onto the boards. Little William rode sitting with his back against the boards. It was clear to Derek that this castle was not built for defense like Dunnottar Castle. The structure sat on flat ground in front with no impediment to an enemy’s approach, not even a moat. They were able to go right inside without passing through defensive tunnels.

If he could stay at Crathes long enough to heal, it would be easy enough to leave here without notice. Getting back to the English army was paramount.

The Graham clan and their guests gathered together inside the castle. Belle had taken Derek’s arm and wrapped it around her shoulders to help support him as he hobbled forward. Abruptly, someone took his hand and wrenched it off Belle, nearly causing Derek to fall as his weight came down painfully on his injured leg.

“Fin!” Isobel cried. “What are ye doing?”

“Let me help the man, Belle.”

The tall red-haired man squeezed Derek’s hand hard as he moved to support his weight.

Derek lowered his voice. “If ye have a problem with me, say so. Otherwise, I’ll be thanking ye not to upset Belle.”

“Stop it, you two,” Boyd snapped as he turned to see what caused the commotion. “We are guests here at Crathes, and as such, I’d expect better manners.”

“Aye, Da.” Fin’s voice was contrite, but the pressure on Derek’s hand said he was anything but sorry.

Two women in dark cloaks and four men in grubby breeches and coats approached bearing torches. Derek was unable to hear the conversation between them and Rabbie and Boyd because Fin deliberately pulled him backward. Belle, bless her, stayed close by to watch her brother or so he imagined.

After a few minutes of discussion, Rabbie returned. “Those two men are taking Derek Sinclair to the surgery. The castle physician will take over his care.”

“But why can he nae stay with us?” Belle’s voice went a bit high and held a tone of worry.

Rabbie shrugged. “Because Burnett says so, and this is his castle.”

Two burly figures approached.

“This the man what’s hurt?” The shorter man held the torch as bit too close to Derek’s face for comfort. He grimaced and nodded.

Belle moved closer and took hold of Derek’s right arm. “What are ye going to do with him?”

“No worries, lassie, we’ll take right guid care of him. Come on.” With that, the two men pulled him away and propelled him forward with a shove in the back.

Derek tried hard to walk on his own. Red hot pain knifed through his hip and leg with two stumbling steps.

“He can’t—” Belle cried.

Then two thick-as-legs arms grabbed Derek around the waist to hold him upright.

* * *

Isobel could do nothing but watch as the big man spun Derek around and hoisted him over one shoulder as if he were a sack of flour.

The shorter man with the torch joined them, and they walked off into the night, carting Derek Sinclair off to parts unknown.

“That has to hurt,” Fin remarked dryly.

“Aye, poor man.” Catriona had come up with William in tow.

“Come, family, we’re to sleep in soft beds tonight.”

Da’s voice was full of good cheer as he waved them in the direction of a large wooden door being held open by two servants. “Alexander Burnett has offered us a late dinner with him and some other Dunnottar folks who fled here as well. I’m famished.”

Rabbie scooped up William and followed Da, leaving Catriona free to link her arm with Isobel’s as they walked.

“Dinna fash yerself, Belle, Mr. Sinclair will be just fine. They’re taking him to a surgeon, imagine that!”

The problem was, Isobel couldn’t stop her very active imagination from coming up with all kinds of horrible ideas. She had heard how some physicians liked to experiment on helpless patients.
God please don’t let them hurt Derek more.

Isobel watched Latharna soar high into the blue sky, chasing down a smaller bird, and she thought of Derek Sinclair. The whole Graham clan had been kept busy flying falcons and hunting with the Laird of the castle, Alexander Burnett. She had not seen Derek since he had been taken away the first night.

Derek’s eyes were brown like the feathers in Latharna’s wings and so expressive. His every emotion could be seen clearly. He was a very calm, smooth-tempered man, even in the face of Fin’s bad behavior. They had talked a bit during their journey to Crathes, and he seemed to be educated to some degree. He could read and that was important to Isobel.

She decided she must ask Catriona if she read any books. Did a baker’s daughter get taught to read?

The whole Graham family had been allowed access to the library in the Dunnottar palace where the governor and his wife lived. Spending rainy days there with her mother, reading the governor’s expensive books, had been special to Isobel. Her throat constricted and tears blurred her eyes when she thought of Mamm.

“Belle! Your bird!”

Fin’s shout galvanized Isobel into motion, and she picked up her skirts and ran through the heather to reach her falcon. Latharna had already spread her wings to mantle over the dead bird and started to eat her prize.

“Latharna! Och, yer not going to hunt again today with yer wee belly full.”

Isobel waited for the falcon to eat its fill before she called it back to her gloved fist and headed back to the others.

After hooding Latharna and placing her on the cadge platform with the other birds, Isobel walked over to the group of men.

A cold wind blew across the open field. Isobel shivered and pulled her long cloak closer as she walked. Da had insisted that she dress properly while they were at Crathes Castle. She missed her comfortable breeches. The draft up her skirts was certainly annoying and possibly unhealthy.

Not only was it cold, but the air smelled like rain, which meant the falconry hunt would not last too much longer. This was fine with Isobel. She had no fondness for Laird Burnett. He was a short, rotund man whose mouth was often distorted into a smirk behind his thin, scraggly whiskers.

“Canna run in yer dress, eh, lassie? Women are not meant for hunting I say,” Burnett offered his unwanted opinion.

His three unsavory companions laughed in agreement. Their laird was dressed in a fine bear fur coat that came down to his calves. Isobel wondered how well he could run in that outfit. She opened her mouth to retort, but caught a subtle shake of the head from her father and stopped.

An odd tension seemed to fill the air around these men. Rabbie, Fin, and Da all had furrowed brows and grim expressions. She gave big brother Rabbie a questioning glance and got a tiny head shake once more.

“What’s this?” Burnett’s booming voice intruded. “Ye dinna want to share the news with the lass?”

Giving him her cool, I-dinna-care face, she smiled. “Well, it seems ye canna bear to keep it a secret. What is it, Sir Burnett

“We think yer Scotsman, Derek Sinclair, is really not a Scots at all, but a spy for the English. I mean to hang him.”

* * *

At first, the surgeon, Mr. Fritz, and the servants at Crathes had treated Derek fairly well. Rough ride on the shoulder of the big man aside, he had been given a clean soft bed, good food and drink, and a bath. The surgeon had used a few leeches on his leg to drain the swelling. He had declared Belle’s sewing job on his hip to be “verra fine” and rebandaged Derek’s wound nicely.

He had hoped Belle would come to see him in the cool, damp room below ground level. She hadn’t appeared.

Then, on the fourth day, he had been up and gingerly walking around, when Mr. Fritz came in with two large men-at-arms.

“Take him to the dungeon prison.”

“What! Why? I havena done anything.”

“Orders, Mr. Sinclair, from the Laird.”

At least the physician had the decency to appear unhappy at this change in events.

Derek had no weapons to defend himself, so he went without a fight. They grabbed his arms all the same, and dragged him down the stairs, deeper into the bowels of the stone castle.

No one would give any reason for this treatment, other than “orders”.

Derek pulled on the leg chain again. No use, he was firmly connected to the stone wall. At least they had put the clamp around his healthy leg.

He sighed and lay down on the pile of old, grimy hay. Who would help an Englishman deep in the heart of Scotland? Perhaps the Graham family would help? If not them, then no one would help. Derek knew he had to keep up the ruse and convince everyone he was one of them. It was his only chance.

A metal key rattled in the lock, and the heavy wooden door swung open. By the dim light from a small window high in the wall, Derek watched the guard step back to allow someone else to enter.

“Derek!” Isobel Graham, dressed in a dark blue kirtle and green shawl, hurried inside and knelt beside him. He had never seen her look so lovely. Her thick red-gold tresses were free around her shoulders.

“Belle,” Derek had to clear his throat to start again. “I thought I’d never see you again.” Reaching out, he took hold of a few silken locks and rubbed them between his thumb and fingers.

Lifting his head, he smiled. “I’ve wanted to do that for some time.”

She grinned at him. “I’ve wanted to do this for some time.” Leaning forward, she put her soft palms on his cheeks and pulled his head toward her. Her lips met his, so soft and warm and enticing that his blood ran quick and hot through his veins. Her body held the faint odor of lavender.

Derek groaned then deepened the kiss and tasted every bit of the smooth lining of her luscious mouth. She did the same to him, and he loved it.

Far too soon, she pulled back to gaze at him with those amazing eyes. Their color was washed away in the dimness, but he knew they were the perfect shade of a clear blue sky.

“I’m sorry I didna come sooner, seems there was always a reason Burnett wouldna let me come. Do ye ken why they locked you up?”

Derek shook his head. “I’ve no idea.” He reached out and took her hand in his. “Will ye tell me now?”

“They think ye are an English spy and Burnett means to … to …”

“To what, Belle?”

She shook her head, and when she gazed at him again, the shimmer of tears sparkled in her eye.

“Tell me,
leannan
.
”
Freeing a hand, he stroked her cheek.

“T-they mean to hang ye.”

Derek froze. His first thought on hearing they suspected him to be a spy meant that he might be held until the English came, which they would eventually.

“Why do they think I’m an English spy? I swear I’ve done nothing, Belle.”

“I dinna ken, Derek, but I mean to find out.”

* * *

Isobel kissed Derek again and held him tight against her body. He too, seemed to wish to hold her forever.

But the guard came and gruffly ordered her out.

She looked at Derek Sinclair one last time, a tall braw man, chained by the ankle like an animal. His beard had grown thicker since the day they met, and his dark hair now curled over his ears.

“Will ye come back again, Belle? I mean, before they…”

How could she deny him? “I’ll try. I swear it.”

The guard slammed the door shut. Isobel glanced around the dim hall. Torches burned in holders on the walls and made the air thick and smoky. The man locked the door and picked up a torch.

“This way, mistress.”

Isobel followed without a word. No sound came from the other cells. Crathes wasn’t a big castle. Only four doors appeared to be cells like the one holding Derek. She had to get him out of here. Perhaps Alexander Burnett, the insufferable cad, would be willing to bargain.

* * *

As soon as Belle and the guard left him alone in the darkness, Derek crawled to the wall and sat down next to the big iron ring holding the chain on his leg and brushed away the hay. Locating the rusting weak spot on the metal, he picked up the chain and isolated a link. The he began to rub the link on the slightly softer rusted metal. There was urgency to this job now. He had no idea when they would drag him away and hang him.

* * *

“Da, do ye think Belle’s idea has a chance?” Rabbie spoke quietly to his father. He stroked Brisda’s breast feathers as the falcon sat on his glove.

Isobel strained to hear her father’s answer, even as she pretended to be absorbed with fixing the broken lure.

Boyd seemed to be concentrating on tying new leather jesses on Fin’s falcon, Grizel, while it sat on Fin’s gloved wrist. Finally, he said, “The idea has merit, I’ll give ye that. I dinna see what choice we have. We’ll no leave the lad to swing.”

“What if he really is a spy?” Fin spoke a little louder than Isobel would have liked. She glared at her younger brother, but he ignored her.

Rabbie placed his bird on her perch, tied the jesses to it, and walked closer to his father and brother.

“I overheard some talk among the servants in the kitchen last evening.” He paused and looked around. Isobel saw his gaze land on Catriona who sat on a blanket with William while the little boy played with a castle dog. William tugged one end of a cloth and the dog pulled the opposite way. Rabbie smiled.

Isobel silently pleaded with him to continue.

“What news have ye, son?” Boyd seemed to echo her sentiment.

“I was getting some apples for William. That little lad has quite the appetite. A kitchen maid was telling the cook that an English officer in a red uniform met the laird late one night in the stables.”

“How did she ken this?”

Isobel moved a little closer to hear this question from Fin.

A little smile touched Rabbie’s mouth. “The lass was up in the hayloft with one of the stable lads. They both saw them.”

“Which kitchen maid was it? Was it the one called Sally?”

Rabbie punched Fin in the shoulder for his question. “Makes no difference ye randy dolt. Can ye not see? Burnett means to deflect any suspicion from him by accusing Derek Sinclair of being a spy should anyone have seen this English officer about.”

Isobel couldn’t take this any longer. With the lure in her hand, she approached her father and held it up, ostensibly for his approval. “Da do ye think a tournament would work?”

Boyd plucked the lure from her hand and pretended to study it. Two of Burnett’s men-at-arms shuffled by, heading across the open grassy courtyard. When they were sufficiently away, Da lifted his head.

“What you suggest isna likely to succeed, lass. Even if Burnett agrees to the wager and we win the tournament, Burnett’s not likely to just release Mr. Sinclair. I dinna trust the man. Best we use a tournament for distraction while we free Derek.”

Rabbie reached over and took the feathered lure from his father and turned it over for inspection. “Are ye sure this Derek Sinclair is worth the risk to us all, Belle?”

“He may not be worth it to you, but to me, aye. If ye prefer, you can leave Crathes, and I will find another way to save him from the noose.”

“I’ll help ye, Belle. Rabbie’s a wife to consider.” Fin met her gaze square on. “I’ve been a wee bit harsh to the man. I didna ken as how ye had feelings for him.”

Until Fin said the words, Isobel didn’t realize the truth of it. Oh, she knew how badly she wanted to kiss Derek’s sensual mouth and touch him just about anywhere. But she hadn’t considered those desires to mean anything. Perhaps she loved the man?

“Fin, I-I…”

“Hush, Belle, no need to say it. I am not blind.” Fin grinned at her, his blue eyes sparking with mirth. “Maybe we’ll do another handfasting like Rabbie and Catriona?”

Boyd made a dismissive Scottish noise. “We’ve more to worry about first. We’ve got a falconry tournament to plan.