Amanda Scott (20 page)

“I canna say nowt agin ye,” he said in Einar’s accents. “That be plain fact.”

“Mercy,” she said, then frowned again. “But Einar had a beard.”

He said nothing, then nearly smiled when she grimaced. “One needs no more than a razor to alter that.”

“And a steady hand,” he agreed. “In troth, I let Henry’s man shave me. He is a more skillful barber than I shall ever be.”

“And no one recognized you? Not as Sir Robert before or as Einar now?”

“Logans abound in the Borders,” he said. “Even into the Highlands, although they call themselves MacLennans there. I’d only to admit I was kin to the baron. If folks got a notion he’d spread his seed far afield, who was I to correct them?”

“But did your father never know where you were? Or your brother?”

“Nay,” Rob said. “I doubt either gave me a thought after I rode away.”

“Och, poor laddie,” she exclaimed impulsively, reaching toward him.

“I’m no cause for pity,” he said more sharply than he had intended. Then he was immediately sorry when she jerked back her hand. Gently, he said, “To be fair, lass, after my mother died, the relationship between the three of us suffered greatly. They’d scarcely set eyes on me for four years before the day I returned and left again.”

“You fostered at Dunclathy, then, with Hugo and Michael.”

“Aye, and Henry, too,” he said. “He was older and kept his distance at first, for he wore his rank heavily then. He’d been head of his family for years before I trained with him. His father died in battle when Henry was only thirteen.”

“What was it like, your training?”

“Much the same as any other lad’s, I expect. Boring stuff for females but interesting to us. And we practiced the art of chivalry when Sir Edward’s daughters visited. Lady Robison died years before I went there.”

“I find it hard to imagine that Hugo’s sisters did not know you.”

He winced inwardly at certain memories but said, “The wee ones, Kate and Meg, were but six and seven when I went to Dunclathy. Moreover, since their mother had died by then, they fostered with kinsmen. I doubt they were more than nine and ten the last time I saw them before I won my spurs.”

“I see.” She paused. “Did not someone tell me Hugo has a third sister?”

“Aye, the lady Elizabeth, but she married soon after I arrived. I seldom saw her there, and I promise you, she never spared a look later for a mere serving knight.”

They had reached the woods leading up the east end of the outcropping to the castle above. Lestalric Castle had been a fortress in its day, Rob knew, but after his years of experience at Dunclathy, Roslin, and other more solidly fortified places, his view of it now simply explained how easily the English had occupied it a half century before, and why, having done so, they’d used it only to store supplies.

Glancing over his shoulder to see the rest of their party still far behind, he said, “We’d better wait here. Isabella will support our talking together if we stay in view, but I doubt she’d be happy if we went on to the castle alone.”

“If you want to ride on to see the place, I’ll wait for them,” she said.

“Nay, lass, I only contrived this outing so we might talk. What else would you know of me?”

Adela hesitated. There was so much she wanted to know, because his revelations thus far had astonished her. She had seen little of Einar Logan, but she had formed a clear impression of the man.

For one thing, he had seemed smaller than Lestalric. As the thought formed, the sight of the approaching party with Henry’s men-at-arms riding tactfully behind them reminded her that the Sinclair men and Hugo surrounded themselves with large, powerful henchmen of Nordic ancestry like their own. Amidst Borderers, Sir Robert would appear abnormally tall and broad. Amidst Highlanders, who mixed Celtic traits with Nordic ones, he would appear a bit taller than the average, albeit no match for truly large men like her sister Cristina’s husband, Hector the Ferocious.

But amidst Hugo’s men, Sir Robert might easily have seemed smaller.

The silence between them felt comfortable. But although he seemed inclined to be patient, the rest of their party had closed a third of the distance between them.

Realizing that if she wanted to ask him anything more, she had better do so at once, she said, “Why did you do it? Why did you become
Einar
Logan?”

When he hesitated, she wanted to kick herself. What a thing to ask when it was most likely the one question he did not want to answer. What could the reason be but something he was ashamed of or felt deeply remorseful about?

Then he said ruefully, “I lost my temper. I’d arrived at midday, proud of winning my spurs, and we talked of battles and such whilst we dined. Then my father demanded information I could not give him. We disagreed, and Will entered the fray. That just made me angrier, but we’d never been ten minutes in the same room without fratching.” He paused, clearly reluctant to continue. “My father said then that I was a damned disappointment to him and not worth anything, so I left.”

“It was a dreadful thing for him to say!”

“Aye, well, I swore he’d never see me again. I kept my word, too, but that was pride more than anything else. I went to Hugo and Michael at Roslin because they’d always felt more like my family than my father or Will did. But I wasn’t family, of course, and had nowt of my own. I told them I wanted to earn my way, and I didn’t want anyone calling me Sir Anything whilst I did. My new knighthood had lost its luster, you see. But Hugo’s lads knew me for a knight and felt insolent calling me Rob so I told them I’d had a falling out with my family and did not want my father or brother to find me. I suggested they call me Einar Logan and treat me as one of themselves. ’Twas a good Norse name from my mother’s family.”

She cocked her head to one side, regarding him with narrowing eyes. “Did you really
not
want your family to find you?”

He smiled wryly. “You remind me of Hugo. He suggested that I didn’t want to know if they
didn’t
try to find me. In troth, I don’t think it matters much now what my reasons were then. The others are almost here,” he added, nodding toward the approaching riders. “We’ll talk more when we can, because I want to know about you, too. You should know, though, that nothing I did reflects badly on me now. I’ve paid my penance for the things I regret, and—” He broke off.

“What?” she asked. She looked toward the others, half expecting to see that de Gredin had arrived, or that something else had occurred to annoy him.

When she looked back, he seemed rueful. “I may be wrong about paying full penance,” he said. “It occurs to me that mayhap I have not.”

Adela wanted to shake him but could not. Not only was he too far away, and much too large for shaking, but the others were now much too near.

Rob saw the spark of anger but could think of nothing to say that would not ignite it to flame. As he had spoken the words, he realized they might prove false.

For all he knew, the cause of his father’s and brother’s murders lay at his door. If someone
was
trying to eliminate the Logans of Lestalric, might the reason not be an attempt to acquire what they believed the Logans guarded? Was it possible that what she called the beginning, the boyish taunt he had flung at Will years ago, had bloomed over time into something greater? Or was he turning a seed into an oak tree?

The others joined them moments later, and they continued through the woods and up to the castle gate. Rob had only to identify himself before it swung open, and they entered the small, square courtyard that he remembered from visits to his grandfather. The castle’s constable emerged from the gate tower to welcome him.

“Ye’ll be remembering Tam Geddes, lad,” the man said bluffly as he glanced at Henry and the half dozen men-at-arms that had ridden in behind them. “One o’ me lads did hear in town that ye was back and would be a-coming today. I’m that glad to see ye. I wager ye’ll be wanting to make a good many changes, will ye no?”

“Oh, I expect I’ll look into things,” Rob said as he looked around. The yard looked tidy enough, but he could see that the place was poorly maintained. Still, he did not want to give much away before finding a clear path. “I can see that you might want to furbish up a few things,” he said. “But I expect you know more about that sort of thing than I do, Tam Geddes.”

“Aye, well, ye’ve no been next or nigh the place in years, and your da were content enough whenever he were here,” Geddes said. “Young Will were more interested in spending Sir Ian’s gelt on fine clothes to impress the lassies in Stirling or at the Castle when the royal court were in residence there.”

“I’ll want to see your accounts before I leave Edinburgh,” Rob said. “But I’ll be in town a few more days, so I’ll look them over next time I come. No need to keep the ladies dangling about today whilst we talk.”

“Nay, sir,” the man said with another glance at Henry, who looked truly splendid in his fine cape. And splendidly vacuous, too, Rob thought.

He remembered Tam Geddes as a gillie from his youth, and he thought the man seemed nervous. He detected no extraordinary relief in him at learning he need not yet share his accounts, but neither did he read any enthusiasm for change.

They dismounted and walked to the main entrance and into the great hall, where clearly a number of men had been living for at least a fortnight without benefit of servants to clear up after them. The place was as untidy as if they had simply cast their belongings everywhere.

“How long has Lady Logan been away?” Rob asked Geddes.

Frowning, he said, “I expect it’ll be nigh two months now. She went to stay wi’ her lady mother when Sir Ian and our Will rode to join the Douglas.”

Rob decided that if he wanted to live comfortably at Lestalric, he’d have to institute a number of changes. But to his chagrin, he hardly knew where to begin.

Henry said blandly that he was looking forward to seeing more of the place. But Isabella and Lady Clendenen both declined to examine the upper regions.

“Faith, I feel as if I’m still in that saddle, fearing I’ll be pitched to the ground any minute,” Lady Clendenen said. “I mean to sit still until I must move again.”

Glancing at Henry, who nodded, Rob said, “We’ll be a few moments then, if you don’t mind waiting. Mayhap Tam Geddes can find you something to drink.”

“Aye, sir, I’ll find summat,” the man said, still clearly nervous.

Adela said, “I’d like to go with you, Sir Robert. Countess Isabella said Lestalric boasts some splendid views of the Firth.”

“It does,” Rob admitted, ignoring the twinkle in Henry’s eyes. With no polite way to deny her request, he said, “We’ll go this way, my lady.”

He led them up the main stairway to the next floor, then along a corridor on which several chambers opened, to the last. Entering, he found Sir Ian’s bedchamber, which had been Sir Walter’s before him, as untidy as the hall had been. “Sakes!” he exclaimed. “Have the men been sleeping here, too?”

Adela had followed him in. “This mess is not mere untidiness sir,” she said. “That kist appears to have been purposefully turned upside down.”

“She’s right, Rob,” Henry said from the chamber next door. “This one looks the same. Everything’s upended. They’ve even taken the bed apart.”

“Someone has searched the place,” Rob said, feeling his temper stir, and dismay as well. “Lass, watch the stairway. If anyone comes, greet them loudly enough for us to hear.”

She obeyed without question, and he moved swiftly to the wood-framed bed against the wall. It boasted two posts, a carved tester, and rich red velvet curtains, but he was interested only in the wood panels at its head.

Feeling along the bottom edge of an unadorned flat panel between two carved ones, he located the long, slender wedge at its base, holding it in place. Easing it out, he removed the panel and reached into the shallow space behind it, finding a narrow roll of vellum. Removing it, he unrolled it, glanced at it, rolled it again, and slipped it up his sleeve. Then he replaced the panel and its wedge and went to find Henry sorting through things in the next room. “Let’s go,” Rob said.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Henry asked.

“I hope so,” Rob replied, glancing at Adela near the stairs. “But I’m afraid it’s only half a map. Look here.” He stepped into the room and opened the map. “What do you think?”

“It does look incomplete,” Henry agreed. “That one side looks neatly cut, despite being all curves. But what will please you is that I’m nearly certain I’ve got something similar amongst my maps from the chest.”

Adela knew now that she had been fooling herself by believing she lacked curiosity. She had been curious about Lestalric from the first moment they’d met, and curious about his castle from the moment they had entered it. Now, as she stood gazing out one of the corridor windows with her ears aprick for the slightest sound from the stair-way, she was dying to know what he’d found.

She thought she had heard him say it was a map, but she was not sure. Both men had spoken, and were still speaking, only in murmurs.

Isabella was right about the view of the Firth of Forth, though. She could see what must be Leith Harbor to her left in the distance. But her thoughts were not on the view. Having managed a household with untidy sisters and a father who cast his belongings thither and yon, she had seen at a glance, even before she had seen the bed-chambers, that someone had searched Lestalric’s great hall.

But Lestalric had asked no questions. His intent from the first, she thought, had been to get upstairs. Hearing the two men coming, she turned.

“I think I’m going to be asking a few more questions, Sir Robert,” she said.

“Aye, well, I’ve a few to ask myself,” he said grimly.

But confronting Geddes in the hall, Rob said mildly, “Those rooms abovestairs are a bit of a shambles. Who’s been in Sir Ian’s chamber?”

The man’s face reddened. “Ha’ mercy, me lord. ’Twas none o’ us here! They came a sennight ago wi’ a royal banner flying. When they said the laird were dead and the estates likely to revert to the King, I didna dare deny them entrance.”