Read Captured by a Laird Online

Authors: Margaret Mallory

Tags: #Chick-Lit, #Historical, #Love Stories, #Medieval, #Romance, #Scotland, #Women's Fiction

Captured by a Laird (29 page)

BOOK: Captured by a Laird
13.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

 

***

Alison’s heart lifted when David entered their bedchamber, but fell again when he donned his shirt of mail and strapped on weapons without so much as a glance at her.

“Talk to me, David. Please.”

“I’ve nothing to say to ye.” He continued to gather his things without looking at her.

“I don’t want it to be like this between us,” she said.

“You’re my wife,” he said, “and ye don’t have to like it.”

“Let me understand the terms of this marriage,” she said, becoming irritated.

“What don’t ye understand?” he asked, turning eyes like green ice on her.

“Am I to warm your bed, bear you an heir, and that is all?”

“Aye,” he said, holding her gaze as he shoved another dirk into his belt.

Without another word, he turned and strode out of the room.

A short time later, Alison stood on the steps of the keep watching the men prepare to ride out.

“Do ye know where they’re going?” she asked Will when he appeared at her side.

“To meet the Frenchman.”

“Lord D’Orsey?”

“Aye,” Will said. “David is going to force him to release my mother.”

Alarm ran through her.

“I asked to go,” Will said, “but David said my turn will come later.”

“What does he intend to do?”

“I don’t know,” Will said, “but I heard the men say ’tis a bold plan. Perhaps his boldest yet, though it would be hard to surpass what he did in Edinburgh.”

Alison flew down the steps. She had to stop him. Even her brother, with all his men, had not challenged the Crown’s forces directly.

When David saw her coming toward him, he clenched his jaw.

“Please, let me have a word in private.” She glanced at the others who were preparing to ride out with him. “I don’t want to embarrass ye in front of your men.”

“By the saints, woman,” he hissed, “ye don’t think running off with my enemy did that? For God’s sake, these are the same men who had to help me chase ye down.”

Well, she couldn’t undo that now.

“Listen to me,” she said, desperate to persuade him. “D’Orsey acts with the authority of the Crown, and he’ll have hundreds of warriors with him.”

David looked at her as if he were waiting for her to make her point. Ach, he was a stubborn, prideful man.

“Besting D’Orsey will take more than sneaking into Edinburgh in a dark cloak.”

Blurting that out was a grave error, judging by the withering glare David gave her.

“I didn’t mean that,” she said quickly. “Going into Edinburgh alone as ye did took great courage—far more than good sense would allow. But courage will not be enough to defeat D’Orsey. I’m afraid you’ll get yourself killed.”

“No wonder ye left me,” he said. “Ye have no faith in me at all.”

“I do. But even if ye prevail, what then?” she asked. “Ye know what happened to your father and uncle when they crossed the Crown’s forces.”

“No one knows that better than I,” he said in a cold voice. “It will not happen to me.”

CHAPTER 39

 

D’Orsey was waiting in the meadow by the river with twenty mounted warriors on either side of him and as many as five hundred men blanketing the hillside behind. As David rode closer, he was glad to see that only a score of the men with D’Orsey’s were members of his elite French guard. The rest were Scots.

David rode into the meadow with only a dozen men, including Brian and Robbie. Since D’Arcy hadn’t given him time to gather a large force himself, his best course was to bring so few as to show a reckless fearlessness and brazen disrespect.

Naturally, he’d had men scour the area earlier for traps. Even now his lookouts were hiding in the lone oak across the river and on the surrounding hills. Living next to their powerful English neighbor, Scots learned long ago to be both bold and devious fighters.

“I don’t see the Blackadders,” Brian said in a low voice. “I expect they’re at the back.”

The Blackadders would stab a man from behind, but they were never the first to run into battle.

David halted his horse in front of D’Orsey. Everything about the Frenchman offended him, from the pristine white tunic he wore over his chain mail to the gleaming silver inlay on his saddle. What had his blood boiling, though, was the horse D’Orsey was riding.


Bonjour
, Laird Wedderburn,” D’Orsey said, inclining his head in greeting.

“You insult me by riding my father’s horse,” David said. “I’ve no patience for false courtesy.”

“Then let us come straight to the matter at hand,” D’Orsey said with a tight smile.

“What matter is that?”

“You know very well,” D’Orsey snapped, and David was pleased he had pricked the Frenchman’s cool demeanor. “You’re participating in the siege of Langton Tower.”

“As ye can see,” David said, spreading his arms, “I’m here, not at Langton.”

A few suppressed chuckles came from the Scots behind D’Orsey. David knew this valley and was well aware that his voice would carry up the hillside.

“I’m told you hold sway with men of these parts,” D’Orsey said. “From what I hear, Cochburn would not have besieged Langton without your tacit approval.”

“Border men are free to make their own choices,” David said, letting his gaze travel over the Scottish warriors behind D’Orsey.

“In fact,” D’Orsey said, “it’s said that no one crosses through these parts without your leave.”

“And yet, you’re here.”

Snorts of laughter erupted from the Scots.

“I am the royally appointed Warden of the East Marches,” D’Orsey said through tight lips. “It is my duty to keep order here.”

“We don’t need a foreigner to keep order,” David said, letting his anger show this time. “I’d advise ye to follow Albany back to France and tend to your own lands. Leave the tending of Scottish lands to Scots.”

“Damn your insolence,” D’Orsey said. “In the name of the king, I command you to remove your men from the siege at Langton Castle at once.”

David was on the verge of commanding D’Orsey to remove his head from his arse when his brother coughed to catch his attention.

“Ask him to return my mother,” Robbie said in a low voice.

“I’m willing to discuss the fate of Langton Castle,” David said, “
after
ye release my father’s widow, Lady Isabella.”

“Ah, that lady is a treasure,” D’Orsey said. “I assure you that she receives every courtesy at Dunbar Castle.”

“The only courtesy she wishes from you is to be returned to her family,” David said.

“Such a refined lady is surely better off in my care than in the care of a man known as
the Beast
.”

“She is an ill and grieving widow,” David said, letting his voice carry to the men gathered on the hillside behind D’Orsey. “My father is dead. What purpose can it serve to hold her hostage now?”

“As the widow of a traitor,” D’Orsey said, “she serves as a warning to all Scots that the families of traitors will pay a price for their treachery.”

“With the constant shifts in power as scheming men seek to control our child king,” David said, “who can say what counts for treason? It changes day by day.”

There was a rumbling murmur of agreement from the men on the hillside.

“I ask you again,” David said, “release my father’s widow.”

“I cannot,” D’Orsey said. “I am a reasonable man, however, and am willing to negotiate a resolution of the siege to avoid spilling blood. What else do you want? A few dozen cattle, perhaps?”

Did the fool not know who stole his cattle? Some of the Scots laughed aloud, but David was past humor.

“What else do I want?” David said, raising his voice to a thunder. “I want justice for the murder of my father and uncle.”

“They weren’t murdered, but executed for treason,” D’Orsey said.

“They were murdered through treachery!” David shouted. “They were invited to Edinburgh as the regent’s guests and promised safe passage.”

“I see I was mistaken in believing we could discuss our differences civilly.”

“My father and uncle agreed to discuss their differences with Albany civilly.” David spat on the ground. “I’ve seen what comes of that.”

“For the last time, I command you in the name of the king to cease the siege at Langton Castle,” D’Orsey said.

“When our Scottish king is old enough to speak for himself, I shall gladly follow his commands.” At least, he would if the king gave sensible commands.

D’Orsey’s face turned a darker shade of red, but David had never expected to persuade D’Orsey to release Isabella. He had spoken for the benefit of the Scots who rode at the Frenchman’s back, prodding their natural resentment against a foreigner’s authority. He also had reminded them that he had legitimate grievances, ones that could only be satisfied by blood vengeance, something they all respected.

David turned his horse, and his men did the same
.
As he rode away, he felt five hundred pairs of eyes on his back and hoped he had been sufficiently persuasive.

“I shall end the siege at Langton,” D’Orsey shouted after him, “and I shall make you and all who follow you pay for your insolence.”

David turned his horse abruptly back around.

“And I promise you before God and every man here,” he said, fixing his gaze on D’Orsey and raising his fist in the air, “that the next time we meet, I shall see you dead or in chains.”

CHAPTER 40

 

“Laird, come take a look,” one of the Hume men on the ridge called over his shoulder.

David crawled through the grass and rested on his elbows to watch D’Orsey’s forces as they traveled west on the far side of the river that cut a valley between the hills. He and his men had been following them for the past hour.

“D’Orsey’s still got three or four hundred men,” his man reported, “but the Scots have been quietly disappearing over the hills by the score.”

This was just as David hoped. The Scots would ride with D’Orsey for silver coin, but they were not so willing to fight the Laird of Wedderburn for the Frenchman. Most of them believed David was in the right and that the same injustice could easily befall their own families.

More than that, they knew D’Orsey would either die or return to France one day. But as long as the rivers flowed, there would be Humes in the Borders. In a land where blood was paid for in blood and grievances were remembered for generations, men did not cross the Humes lightly.

David glanced up at the sky. It was time. They didn’t have much daylight left, and they were close to the castle should they need to make a quick escape. As the saying went,
leave the backdoor unlocked.

He crept back down the hill and gathered the men he would take with him in a circle. They were thirty of his fastest horsemen, for speed was essential. If all went well, a small, fleet group, similar to a raiding party, would serve his purpose.

If not, they’d ride like hell for the castle.

“Remember,” David told them, “I want D’Orsey captured, not killed, so I can trade him for Lady Isabella.”

He sent Robbie to stand watch halfway to the castle, which would keep him out of harm’s way.

“If ye see us galloping in your direction, ride ahead to the castle,” David instructed him. “Tell them to open the gate and be prepared to close it fast behind us.”

David led his thirty riders up to the ridge and paused, giving the men below time to see them. Then he gave the signal, and the Humes rode down the long hillside like a pack of running wolves.

D’Orsey appeared to be shouting at his forces to form a line. Instead, hundreds of Scots began crossing the stream to join the Humes. Others who wished to avoid taking sides disappeared.

This was what David hoped for, but it was happening too quickly. There were too too many well-meaning Scots between his group of fleet riders and D’Orsey.

D’Orsey did not lack for courage, but he was not a fool. As soon as he realized he would be fighting with only his French guard, he spurred his horse to make his escape.

It was a magnificent horse and had been his father’s pride.

David and his men were caught in the midst of all the Scots who were joining their side.
Damn it!
When they finally broke free, D’Orsey had too great a lead. He was going to escape, and all this would be for naught.

From the corner of his eye, David caught sight of a rider ahead and to his left, coming from the direction of Blackadder Castle. The rider was small for a man, and he was racing toward D’Orsey with the apparent intention of cutting him off.

 

***

Alison sat with her daughters by the great hearth in the hall, pretending to stitch. She was so tense awaiting the outcome of David’s encounter with D’Orsey that when one of the guards approached her she jabbed herself with the needle.

“Sorry to trouble ye, Lady Alison,” he said. “But with the laird gone, I thought I should tell you.”

“What is it?” she asked, pleased that someone wished to consult her, even if her husband never did.

“’Tis about Will.”

Unease settled into the pit of her stomach.

“I was up on the wall on duty,” the guard said. “Will was with me, talking about birds and such.”

“That’s our Will,” Beatrix piped up. “Is he still there looking at birds?”

“Ye know how that lad gets odd notions in his head,” the man said. “One moment he’s yapping about bird songs and wingspans. Then he halts mid-thought and races down the ladder. Next thing I know, he’s riding out the gate like a streak of lightning.”

Good God.
For all she knew, there could be a battle raging nearby.

“There are fresh apple tarts in the kitchen,” she told the girls, hoping to divert them so they would not see how worried she was. “Go have one while they’re warm.”

“I want Will to come home,” Margaret said.

“I’ll send him down to join ye as soon as he returns,” Alison said with a firm hand on their backs. Once she had them on their way, she hurried out of the keep with the guard.

“I expect the lad’s just chasing a bird and will give up soon,” the guard said, but he looked worried. “I would’ve rode after him, but the laird said we were to stay here and keep watch. I shouldn’t have left my post this long.”

BOOK: Captured by a Laird
13.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Next of Kin by Joanna Trollope
Murder in Montmartre by Cara Black
Clang by E. Davies
Camellia by Cari Z.
Tangles and Temptation by India-Jean Louwe
El and Onine by Ambroziak, K. P.