Amanda Scott (12 page)

They agreed with enthusiasm, and she took them out to the byre to show them where the hens laid their eggs. “If you will gather eggs for me, I will go back to the kitchen and see what else we can fix for our supper.”

At Balcardane, despite a near sleepless night Duncan had begun the morning by attending quite early to several matters of business before seeking out his father’s steward in the estate office just inside the main gate of the castle.

“Good day, Master Duncan. How did you find Dunraven, sir?”

“Well enough, MacDermid. We should increase the flocks there, however. The land can sustain a few more per acre, and the wool they produce is particularly fine. You might note, as well, that I authorized two new pumps and told them they can put new roofs on the dovecote and the stable in the spring.”

“What’s that, Duncan? New roofs, you say! Would you beggar me, lad?”

Having assumed—clearly incorrectly—that the steward was alone, Duncan started at the sound of the earl’s voice. With a sour look at MacDermid, to which the man returned a blank gaze, Duncan turned and said, “Good day, Father. I have no intention of beggaring you, sir, but both of those roofs are caving in. They have patched them enough to get them through the winter, but—”

“Then let them be, damn you! I did not agree to your running Dunraven just so you could empty my pockets with foolish extravagance.” The earl, a full-bodied man of medium height, straightened his periwig and glowered at his son, adding, “You and your mother both seem to think I’m made of money. She’s inviting the whole countryside to dine on Christmas Eve. Money is power, lad. Don’t waste it.”

A familiar sense of frustration threatened to make Duncan forget the duty he owed his prickly parent, but he gritted his teeth, saying only, “You cannot think it foolish, sir, to keep the birds from leaving and the horses from dying of exposure. Purchasing new stock would prove vastly more expensive.”

“If you’ve already authorized it, I won’t embarrass you by sending contrary orders to Dunraven,” the earl said sternly, “but next time have a care, Duncan. I trust your trip was otherwise uneventful.”

“Not exactly,” Duncan said, “but it was interesting.”

“You shall tell us all about it when we sit down to breakfast,” Balcardane said. “Serena will want to hear the tale as much as I do, and your mother, too, of course.” He winked at Duncan. “The lass truly admires you, you know—Serena, not your mother. I can see it in those beautiful blue eyes whenever she looks at you.”

Instead of the Lady Serena Caddell’s eyes, Duncan’s memory presented him with a pair of silver-grey ones, their irises outlined in black, their dark lashes long and thick. He blinked the memory away, saying bluntly, “I hope you are not still thinking of making a match between us, sir. I have no objection to Lady Serena’s making her home with us here for as long as you wish her to stay—”

“Devil take it, Duncan, it wasn’t my idea for her to stay. Just another mouth to feed, come to that, but when Caddell said she wanted to get away from Inver House until her sister-in-law’s bairn is born, I couldn’t refuse to welcome her.”

“No, sir, I just don’t want you thinking I have an interest in that direction. You’ve suggested more than once that the connection would be advantageous.”

Balcardane frowned. “I think it would, Duncan. Anyone can see that the lass is hot for you, and Caddell favors the union. She’ll have a devilish good dowry.”

“I warrant she will. Did you have more you wanted to say to MacDermid?”

“Aye, I do. Mind, now, no more roofs without you talk to me first.”

Duncan held his temper, but the thought of trying to enjoy a meal while his father complained about his spending and his mother and Serena pitched questions to him about his trip soon convinced him to find something else to do. He would not ride to Maclean House, however. The fool wench had chosen her path, and she would just have to take the consequences. She was no business of his, and he had no interest in what became of her, and that was that. No matter what. Absolutely.

The children helped Mary clear up after their meal. The sky still looked threatening, but not a single snowflake or drop of rain, had fallen. The waters of the loch lay calm and dull gray, and the hills beyond it looked dreary. It was, Mary thought, as if all the color had faded from the day.

She was certain that someone had been in the house. Morag would have left fires ready to light and the wood baskets full, and she would never have left dirty dishes behind. Fear flashed through Mary’s mind that something had happened to the housekeeper, but then she remembered Neil’s bed. Someone had slept there. Surely, she thought, no one would hang about who had harmed the housekeeper.

Whoever it was, she hoped he would not return, for as certain as she was that it had not been MacCrichton, the most likely housebreaker was Allan Breck. He had not paid Maclean House a visit in over a year, and no one had given him cause to expect a welcome, but he was arrogant enough to think that Lady Maclean would forgive a faithful member of her clan for any transgression. Allan believed clan loyalty was sacred, although his definition of loyalty itself was certainly flawed.

In any event, he would not expect Mary to be glad to see him, so if he knew that she had returned, surely he would stay away.

Sending the children out to play by the loch, she lighted lamps and stirred up the fires again. Then, taking her aunt’s tea chest from its place atop a cabinet in the kitchen, she brewed herself a hot cup of the precious tea, and sat down to write a letter to Perthshire. Although Sir Neil Maclean was titular chieftain of the Craignure Macleans, she addressed the letter to her aunt, for it was certainly her ladyship who would decide what they should do about Chuff and Pinkie.

She had finished her letter and was heating wax for her seal when she heard horsemen ride into the stable yard. Forcing herself to remain calm, though her heart began thudding hard enough to jump out of her chest, she dripped her wax onto the letter and pressed her thumb down to make the seal. Then, setting the letter carefully aside, she went to the parlor window and looked out into the yard.

Ewan MacCrichton was striding toward the front door.

M
ARY’S PALMS WERE SWEATING
, and she wiped them on her skirt, but she refused to let Ewan see her fear. Raising her chin, she opened the door.

He stood on the step, a hand raised to knock. Letting it drop, he glowered at her and said, “So you did come back. I thought you would.”

“You are not welcome here anymore,” she said. “Go away, or I will call our men in from the stable and the yard to put you off the property.”

“Do you think they could do it, lass?” he said, jeering. “I’ve five men with me, all armed and ready for whatever comes. I don’t think your lads will be much of a match for them. I’m going to take you home, and that’s all there is about it.”

“Your home is not my home, my lord.” Hearing movement and whispering behind her, she realized that the children had come back in. She had kept the door partially closed, and now, behind it, she motioned to them to get back out of sight. She kept her eyes fixed on Ewan, however, and saw his expression change to anger.

“You’ve given your promise, lass, and I don’t mean to let you break it,” he said. “Come now, don’t be foolish.”

She started to shut the door, but he shoved it open and walked inside.

Glancing swiftly behind her to be sure the children had left the room, she exclaimed, “You can’t come in here!”

“I am in, so you’d better behave,” he snarled. “I’ve come to take you back, Mary Maclaine, and there’s no one here to stop me. Where is your cousin?”

“My cousin? You know perfectly well that Sir Neil and my aunt have gone to stay in Perthshire until Diana’s child comes, and perhaps for the entire winter if heavy snows come early.”

“I am speaking of Allan Breck,” he snapped.

“I don’t claim that villain as a cousin,” she retorted.

“He is kin to your mother’s folk, is he not?”

“He is a Stewart, and so certainly there is kinship, but you know why I am not quick to acknowledge it. Even my aunt does not recognize him now.”

“Well, I thought he might be here. In any event, you are not to speak to him if he approaches you. He wants my treasure to finance a resurgence of the cause.”

“How does he even know about the treasure?”

“He does not know everything, but I told him once that I could pay my fine if I could recover something that had been lost, and about the seer’s telling me I needed a seventh daughter. Breck’s the one who told me about your gift.”

“Well, he won’t ask me to help him learn more about it,” she said, watching Ewan warily. Despite his apparent willingness to converse with her, she knew he still hoped to force her return to Shian. “Allan knows that I believe the Jacobites lost their cause at Culloden, if not long before. That cause cost me my father, an uncle, two brothers, and a sister; and Allan himself cost me more when he killed Ian.”

“Just see that you don’t talk to him, that’s all. He’ll winkle what he can out of you one way or another if he can get to you.”

“He can scarcely winkle out information I don’t have,” she said tartly.

“You just put your mind to it, lass, and you’ll know soon enough where the treasure lies. Now then, I doubt you need to collect anything since you left all you took with you at Shian, but fetch a cloak if you’ve got one. It’s devilish chilly out.”

“I’m not going, Ewan,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “I know I said that I’d marry you, but a woman can change her mind. I have changed mine.”

“No one else knows that, however,” he said, “and I mean to see that you don’t tell anyone. As soon as we have consummated—”

“We are not going to consummate anything, sir. As for not telling anyone, I have already told Black Duncan Campbell that I don’t want to marry you. If you try to force me, I shall claim rape, and
that’s
all there is about it!”

He slapped her hard enough to make her stumble, and began to undo his belt.

“Dinna touch our Mary!” Chuff shrieked, rushing into the room. “Ye’ll no beat her, laird, or I swear tae ye, I’ll kill ye wi’ me own hands!”

Mary cried, “Chuff, no!”

Ewan backhanded the child, sending him sprawling to the floor.

Mary leapt forward. “Leave him alone!”

Holding her off easily with one hand, Ewan looked grimly at Chuff, who sat up slowly, gazing resentfully up at him. “So,” Ewan said, turning back to Mary, “now I see how you were able to escape. Chuff, my lad, you’ll soon regret betraying me. When we get back to Shian, I promise you the skelping of your young life.”

“I’ll go with you, Ewan,” Mary said instantly, “but only if you will promise not to hurt the children.”

“Children, eh? So the brats are both here. Well, you’ll all come with me, and I’ll make no bargains. I don’t stand for defiance in my household, as you’ll all learn before you’re much older. Leave us now, lad,” he added. “Fetch your sister, and prepare to leave. We’ll go just as soon as I’ve attended to my lass here.”

Mary backed away, but Ewan grabbed her, paying no more heed to the boy. She cried, “Run away, Chuff! Go, run, and take Pinkie with you!”

Ewan laughed unpleasantly. “They won’t get far. My men are all around the house.” Jerking her forward, he added, “We’ll tend to our business now.”

“Please, don’t beat me again. I’ve said I’ll go with you.”

“Beat you? I’m not going to beat you. Not yet, at all events. I asked a few folks if they’d heard of any wench who could curse a single part of a man’s body. They said only a witch can do that. Are you a witch, Mary Maclaine?”

Recognizing his true purpose now, she swallowed hard and shook her head.

“That’s what I thought. I’d have preferred a bed, lass, but the carpet will do.” He drew her close, seeming to enjoy it when she resisted. He was too strong for her, and ignoring her struggles, he began to kiss her.

When she kicked him, he did not seem to notice, and when she writhed in his arms, he chuckled. “You’ve no choice, lass, and once the deed is done, you’ll give me no more trouble. Then, when you’ve got accustomed to marriage, you can just tell Black Duncan how you changed your mind again, and how happy we are.”

She tried to scream, but his mouth swiftly covered hers, and his arms clamped so tightly around her that she could scarcely breathe.

As he bent her toward the floor and reached to pull up her skirt, the door burst open and a man dashed in, crying, “Laird, Black Duncan’s coming!”

“Let him come,” Ewan snarled, tumbling Mary to the floor.

From the moment Duncan had watched Mary Maclaine walk away from him with the two children, after she had so foolishly rejected his excellent advice, he had wanted to wash his hands of her. She had given him every reason to do so, and he told himself that she deserved whatever consequences befell her.

He had told himself so several times on his way home to Balcardane, and many more times since, but he could not seem to put her out of his mind.

Since leaving his steward, he had found his thoughts fixed often on Mary. Was she safe? Had MacCrichton found her? Was there anyone who would protect her? He had heard rumors that Allan Breck was back in Appin. Could the villain have sought refuge at Maclean House? Would he do anything to protect her from MacCrichton if he had?

Having put these thoughts and others of their ilk aside to deal with matters that had been neglected in his absence, he nonetheless found his thoughts constantly returning to Mary. So it was that despite his determination to have nothing more to do with her, instead of joining his family for dinner, he found himself sending orders to his men to saddle horses and prepare to ride out with him at once.

Assuaging his hunger with ale and mutton from the kitchen, and taking a loaf of bread to stave off hunger pangs along the way, he snatched his sword from its hook near the hall door and hurried outside, stirred by an odd, inexplicable prick of urgency. A flurry of activity in the yard told him that the men were nearly ready.

He took fifteen with him. Not a chief’s tail, by any means, but then he was not and never would be the chief of his clan. Still, he was a Campbell and knew what was due to his position as Master of Dunraven.