This Heart of Mine (85 page)

It was then that Velvet noticed her brother-in-law for the first time. “Ian! What in hell is going on here?” she demanded.

Ian Grant moved his horse forward to come abreast of Velvet. He was very much in his element now and enjoying every minute of this drama. “Good morning, Velvet,” he said cheerfully. “Ye would like to know what this is all about, wouldn’t ye? Well, my dear, I am tired of being BrocCairn’s poor relation, and so I hae decided to grasp fortune by the neck, as it were. There is a very large reward on the Earl of Bothwell, who at this very minute is wi’ yer husband at
Huntley.
I should like to collect that reward, and since I doubt that either Alex or Lord Bothwell would like to see ye hurt, especially considering that ye carry BrocCairn’s heir, I hae decided to offer them a bargain. I will return ye to Alex in exchange for Lord Bothwell. I dinna think they will refuse me, do ye? Now all ye must do is be a good lass for the next few weeks while this delicate exchange is arranged.”

“Ian, I’d kill you if I could,” said Velvet furiously, “and you’d best not to get too near me, you damned bastard, or I will!”

“Ho! Ho!” Ranald Torc chuckled. “I believe her ladyship would indeed slit yer throat given the chance, Mouse. Ye’d best be wary.”

“Nay, cousin,” said Ian calmly. “Velvet will behave herself, for her husband is as close to committing treason as any man, and if she doesna wish to see him executed for it, she will cooperate wi’ us, won’t ye, my dear?”

“What do you mean, treason?” Velvet demanded.

“Bothwell’s been put to the horn, Velvet,” said Ian. “Here in Scotland that means he’s been outlawed, all his possessions forefeited to the crown. The king has accused him of treason.”

“A ridiculous charge, and all of Scotland knows it,” Velvet snapped back.

“Aye, but, nonetheless, James Stewart’s word is law in this land, and by aiding Bothwell the outlaw, yer precious Alex is as guilty. Now shut yer mouth, yer ladyship! We hae a long way to travel before we’ll be safe.”

“You’ll never be safe from Alex, you little bastard!” snarled Velvet. “And what of Bella?”

“I suppose she’ll miss me,” he said easily.

Velvet stared at him, outraged, and angry for poor Annabella. “I hope I’m there when Alex kills you,” she said venomously.

Ranald Torc looked directly at Velvet, but her gaze never wavered. He knew Alex Gordon, and he thought that this woman was a fit mate for BrocCairn. She was canny, bonny, and very brave, he had not a doubt. “Enough of yer battling,” he said firmly. “We must go now. There’s still the cattle to take. Ian, ye bring her ladyship to safety wi’ Alanna, and we’ll meet ye.”

Velvet could see that it was Ranald Torc who controlled this band of outlaws. “Let my tiring woman go back to
Dun Broc,”
she pleaded. “She is five months gone with a bairn.”

“She’d raise the alarm,” said Ranald Torc. “We must go quickly, but we’ll go carefully, madame, for I hae no wish to harm either of ye or yer bairns.”

Ian leaned down and, taking Velvet’s bridle, led her off, Pansy following along. Velvet recognized the route they were traveling as the same one that had brought her to BrocCairn. She had not been out of the glen in the year since her arrival. At the crest of the hill, she saw Alanna Wythe waiting.

“Is she your whore now?” Velvet demanded of Ian.

“She was for a while,” he said easily, “but she seems to prefer my cousin, Ranald. They’re to be wed in Edinburgh, although having declared their intentions before me, they’re handfast and as good as married now.”

Velvet glared at Alanna as they came abreast of the woman. “Where is your daughter?” she demanded of her.

“With Jean Lawrie, not that it’s your business.”

“You’re leaving her?”

“She’s better off in Broc Ailien with Jean,” said Alanna. “My husband’s an outlaw, or perhaps you didn’t know that. ’Tis hardly the proper life for the Earl of BrocCairn’s daughter, is it?”

“You’re a cold bitch,” said Velvet evenly. “When I return
to BrocCairn, I’m going to take Sibby and raise her myself. I’ll see she never even knows you exist!”

Suddenly Alanna found herself very discomfited by the situation and, with a toss of her head, said, “I’ll come to see Sibby whenever it suits me, madame.”

“If you ever come near
Dun Broc
again, I’ll set the dogs on you, Alanna Wythe.”

“Cease yer bickering,” snarled Ian Grant. “We’ve miles to go before we meet up wi’ Ranald Torc again, and I’ll not waste the daylight hours listening to the pair of ye squabbling like two barnyard hens over a cock.”

With surprising speed, Velvet lashed out at him with her riding crop. “Don’t you even speak to me, you little bastard!” she shouted at him.

Stunned, Ian Grant ran his hand down the weal she had raised on his handsome face and was surprised to find that the side of his face by his left eye was bloodied. Anger poured through him. The bitch had marked him!

Velvet saw his anger, and a slow smile touched her lips. Her voice was low and even as she spoke. “Lay a hand on me, Ian, and you’re a dead man where you stand. You know what Alex would do to you if you touched me, don’t you?”

Several of Ranald Torc’s men had accompanied Ian, and now the leader of the group leaned forward and said, “The earl will nae pay ye for damaged goods, Ian. Let it be.”

Frustrated and furious, Ian Grant kicked his mount into a trot, and they were off. They did not meet up with Ranald Torc and the main body of his outlaws until close to evening. His band had successfully stolen the BrocCairn cattle and had driven them around the mountains on a deserted track. They were far enough from BrocCairn to discourage pursuit from the few men that had been left there, most having gone with their earl to
Huntley.

Ranald Torc could not take the chance of being seen, and so they camped out in a meadow where the cattle could rest and graze the night away. Two small campfires sprang up, and a cow was butchered and roasted over the open flame, to be served with oatcakes that the men kept in their pouches and washed down with water from a nearby stream or whiskey from their personal flasks. Ranald Torc did his best to see that his two prisoners were comfortable, for Ian was still angry and would not go near Velvet and Pansy.

Alanna had passed on what had happened between them, and Ranald chuckled richly. “She’s the badger’s bitch all
right,” he said. “She’ll breed up hell-raising sons and daughters for BrocCairn.”

“You sound as if you like Alex,” said Alanna, somewhat confused.

“I do,” came the outlaw’s reply. “He’s a good man in a fight and a good lord to his people. I’ve nae quarrel wi’ Gordon of BrocCairn.”

“But you stole his cattle!” Alanna said.

“Stealing a man’s cattle doesna mean ye dinna like him,” said Ranald. “Cattle stealing is an old Highland tradition, Alanna. Ye’ve much to learn, lassie, but ye’ll find me a good teacher.” He rose to his full height. “I’ve got to see that Lady Gordon and her woman are comfortable.” Leaving Alanna to await his return, Ranald Torc walked over to where Velvet was seated and squatted down beside her. “I’ve given orders that ye not be disturbed, madame, and, believe me, none of my men will disobey me. I regret I canna offer ye more comfortable accommodations. There’s a bit of a nip in the air tonight. Will ye be warm enough?”

“We’ve our plaids to wrap about us,” replied Velvet. She was not afraid of this giant who was really not much taller than her own father. She was used to big men.

“Can I get ye anything before ye sleep?”

Velvet chuckled. “My husband,” she said, and Ranald Torc grinned at her.

“Ye’re nae afraid,” he said. “Good! We’ll nae hurt yer ladyship.”

“Where are we going?” she demanded.

“South to sell the cattle, and then to Edinburgh. Has Ian nae spoken wi’ ye?”

“Keep that little turd away from me!” Velvet exploded. “I swear if I get the chance I’ll slit his throat with his own dagger! I’ll not speak with him. You tell me.”

He nodded, understanding her feelings. She was a Gordon of BrocCairn, and Ian Grant had been disloyal to the Gordons in the worst way: stealing from his brother-in-law, deserting his Gordon wife and his sons, attempting to betray Scotland’s greatest nobleman as Judas had once betrayed his master. Ranald knew his cousin was no prize. Aye, he understood Velvet’s anger and desire for revenge. “Tomorrow,” he said, “two of my men will deliver a message to
Huntley
from Ian saying that ye’re being held in his custody; the ransom being Lord Bothwell’s person. Lord Bothwell will turn himself over to Ian Grant in Edinburgh at an arranged location. When Ian has given up his prisoner to the crown and received his reward,
then ye and yer woman will be free to return to yer home at
Dun Broc.”

“And how much of the reward will you share?” she asked him scornfully.

“I’d nae betray Francis Stewart-Hepburn,” said Ranald Torc. “He’s naught to me or mine.”

“Then why are you involved in this?” said Velvet.

“Because I promised my cousin, Ian, my aid before I knew what he had in mind. I am a man of my word, come what may. Yer husband’s cattle were all I wanted, and because BrocCairn was so foolish as to leave his herds unguarded and because he will not come after me for fear of my harming you, I’ll soon be a rich man. But dinna accuse me of betraying Bothwell. I hae no part in that.”

“Without you, Ranald Torc, Ian could not accomplish his goal. The king accuses Lord Bothwell unfairly on the advice of his chancellor, Maitland. Do you want Maitland ruling Scotland through Jamie Stewart? Send me home tomorrow. You’ve gained the cattle, and if you speak the truth, ’tis all you really wanted.”

“I hae given my word,” replied Ranald Torc. “ ’Tis my most precious possession, Lady Gordon. I canna violate it.”

“Then be warned, Ranald Torc, that I shall try to escape, for I would not want to be the instrument of Lord Bothwell’s downfall.” Then, wrapping herself in her plaid, she lay down, turning her back to him.

Neither she nor Pansy, however, was given the opportunity to escape. The following day, as they set out, the women found that leading reins had been attached to both sides of their mounts’ bridles and armed men rode on either side of them, the leading reins in their grasp. Velvet was furious, but there was nothing that she could do, so she was forced to ride along quietly.

“We’ll have our chance in Edinburgh,” Pansy whispered to her in the night. “We’ll escape the little toady in the city, and he’ll not find us.”

“But once Maitland learns of Ian’s plan, even if I escape my bastard brother-in-law, I’ll not be safe,” fretted Velvet. “The king is not above using me himself to get at Francis. He simply never thought of it, Pansy. When Ian tells them of how he plans to capture Bothwell, the king and Maitland won’t hesitate to use me. We must escape Ian Grant before he reaches them. If he doesn’t have me, then perhaps Bothwell will be safe. Ian isn’t stupid enough to go to the king and
present his plan unless he has his hostage. Without me they’ll throw him out of the palace.”

Several days later Ranald Torc sold BrocCairn’s cattle at a fair where, in light of the herd’s excellence, no questions were asked. Then they were off to Edinburgh: Ranald Torc, Alanna, Ian, Velvet, Pansy, and half a dozen of Shaw’s outlaws, the rest being sent back to their home for they were too expensive to maintain. Alanna insisted that Ranald Torc make good his promise to wed her, and at a small kirk near the city they were married, having declared before the preacher their state of handfast.

Then fate played into Velvet’s hand, for Ian, beginning to realize the enormity of what he had done and was about to attempt, decided that if he was to make good his escape to France before Alex found and killed him, they would be safer staying in Edinburgh’s port town, Leith. Knowing Bothwell’s favorite tavern in Leith to be the Golden Anchor, Ian decided that the exchange would take place there, and one of Ranald Torc’s men was dispatched to find the earl and tell him.

Ranald and Ian hid themselves and their captives in a slum near the waterfront, pretending to the landlady that they were two married couples—cousins they told her—and their servant. Ranald Torc had insisted that the rooms they rented be on the ground floor of the house to facilitate a quick escape should that become necessary. Ian was extremely irritated, for rooms at the top of the house would have cost him less.

There were only two rooms available, and at night the honeymooning couple closeted themsleves into the smaller room from which, much of the evening, there emitted a series of strange sounds. Added to this was the noise from the street outside, and the rats and fleas that infested their quarters. Ian spent his nights snoring loudly in a chair in the room with his captives, but Velvet did not get much sleep, and she began to fear that it would be impossible to escape, for neither she nor Pansy was allowed out of the apartment.

It was small consolation that Ranald Torc’s men were not sharing their quarters, there not being enough room. Those five were forced to fend for themselves, usually sleeping in doorways, alleyways, or, if they were lucky, with a friendly whore. Alanna and her new husband spent their days sightseeing, leaving Velvet and Pansy to bear Ian’s dull company and that of one or two of Ranald Torc’s men. Usually Velvet spoke with the outlaws, for they were simple men who, though they made their living in the world by robbery and occasionally killing, were basically friendly and respectful of the
Countess of BrocCairn. They did not understand what was going on at all, but they obeyed their leader, and Ranald Shaw had brought them to Leith.

Their food came from a nearby cookhouse, Ian fetching it at midday, or if he was drunk, which happened more frequently, sending one of Ranald Torc’s men for it. Ian was becoming increasingly nervous and irritable. It had been ten days since he had kidnapped his sister-in-law and aided in the theft of his brother-in-law’s cattle, and they had not heard from BrocCairn, nor had the two messengers they had sent to
Huntley
returned. Until he heard from Alex, Ian dared not contact Maitland.

Velvet’s calm began to annoy him, and one day he shouted at her, “Perhaps BrocCairn doesna want ye back, after all! Perhaps he has thought better of taking to wife an infidel’s whore.”