Amanda Scott (3 page)

Tam had seen them, too. “Likely, we’ll soon ha’ a host of armed men descending on us,” he said grimly.

“More likely, the servants will be setting extra places for supper,” Kit said.

“That’s no so likely as spears and arrows,” Tam said, “for they can scarcely ha’ seen who we are yet. Mayhap if they be friends
o’ yours—”

“They know who we are,” Kit said, raising a hand to return a similar greeting from Patrick.

“How could they?” Willie demanded.

“Sir Patrick’s long vision is even keener than mine.”

Nodding, Willie said, “Aye then, I’ll believe ye. On the ship, ye always could make out sail or landfall long afore the rest
of us could.”

Tam looked narrowly at Kit. “I ha’ seen ye wi’ a sword in your hand but no wi’ a bow. Still, wi’ that long sight o’ yours,
I expect ye’ve a fine eye for a target.”

“Sir Patrick is more skilled, but I can give him fair competition.”

“From what we ha’ seen hereabouts and in the Highlands, I’d wager ye might soon ha’ the chance tae show your skill,” Tam said.
“They say Henry’s army lies ready tae attack somewhere between the line and the English city o’ York.”

The approaching riders had slowed and were waving them forward.

“Come on,” Kit said, spurring his mount.

He laughed with boyish delight when Kintail clapped him on the shoulder and Patrick cried, “Kit Chisholm, by all that’s holy,
we thought you were dead!”

“I nearly was, I can tell you,” Kit said. “I spent fifteen long months in hell, at all events. These are my lads, Tam and
Willie,” he added before Kintail or Patrick could demand further explanation of his absence.

The men shook hands all around, and then Kit said, “Whatever gave you the notion that I was dead? ’Tis true I was out of the
country for longer than I’d have wished, but as I’d been in the Highlands four years and more before then—”

“Faith, is that how it was?” Patrick demanded, his eyes narrowing. “I heard what happened before you disappeared, you know.
Fin knows, too, although I hope I don’t have to tell you we didn’t believe a word of what they said of you.” He glanced at
Tam and Willie, then back at Kit, raising his eyebrows as he did.

Easily following his thoughts, Kit said, “They know more about the murders than you do, so we can talk freely.” For Tam and
Willie’s sake, he added, “I’ve known these two since my schooldays. You can trust them as you do me.”

Kintail said, “Then we may assume the matter was settled sensibly and the authorities know now that the charges against you
were false.”

“You may,” Kit said, sobering.

“But how did you manage to disappear for over a year?” Patrick asked.

“For that I can thank the Sheriff of Inverness. His men assumed I had committed two murders, but they feared a jury might
disagree with them, so they simply arrested me and handed me over to one of Cardinal Beaton’s ship captains as a convicted
criminal. My protests of innocence and the fact that I had never had a trial being utterly ignored, I served as the cardinal’s
involuntary seaman for fifteen months before Tam, Willie, and I escaped and I was able to prove my innocence.”

Patrick looked curiously at Tam and Willie, as if he would have liked to ask what crimes they had committed, but then, visibly
collecting himself, he said to Kit, “I’m glad you were cleared, but like it or not, my lad, the official position is that
you are as dead as our last Christmas goose.”

“Dead!” When Patrick nodded, Kit added, “The
official
position? But how can that be when anyone can see that I’m alive?”

Raising a hand to stop Patrick’s explanation before it began, Kintail said, “Shall we ride on to Dunsithe to discuss this?
You’ll stay the night at least, Kit. Molly and Beth will both want to meet you and hear any news you’ve brought.”

“Molly and Beth?”

“Our wives, of course,” Patrick said, adding as his eyes lit with pride, “They are both presently in a delicate condition,
so mind how you behave.”

“My congratulations to you both,” Kit said. “I do bring news, too, particularly from your sister and mother, Patrick.”

Clearly surprised, Patrick said warily, “How do they fare?”

“Excellently,” Kit replied. “As a matter of fact, your sister recently married my cousin, Alex Chisholm.”

Patrick’s jaw dropped. “Why have I heard nothing of this?” he demanded.

Kit chuckled. “I expect Bab wanted to punish you,” he said.

“He can tell you all about it on the way,” Kintail said sternly. “By now our lads are lining the ramparts, trying to decide
if all is well, and if we do not return soon, our wives will be riding out to join us.’

Accordingly, as they rode up the hill to Dunsithe, Kit described what he knew of Barbara MacRae’s marriage to Sir Alex Chisholm.

“So it was all my mother’s doing,” Patrick said when Kit reached the end of his tale. “How astonishing!”

“You may say so, but you helped,” Kit said, grinning. “From what I heard, you had suggested the match often enough to make
it seem unnecessary to apply for your permission.”

They continued to discuss the wedding and other news of the Highlands until they rode through the open gates into Dunsithe’s
cobbled courtyard.

Two young women, both beautiful and bearing a strong likeness to each other, came hurrying to meet them.

“We thought you would never come back,” the elder one said accusingly to Kintail. She had clouds of red-gold curls hanging
nearly to her hips, and when he leaped down to gather her into his arms, Kit easily deduced that she was his wife.

The other woman, despite the strong resemblance, had smooth, silvery blond hair and an air of serenity that Kin-tail’s wife
lacked. She waited patiently while Patrick handed the hawk to a waiting gilly and dismounted, but then she walked into his
embrace, returning it with fervor. Both women were visibly pregnant.

Introducing them as Molly and Beth. Kintail added as Kit dismounted, “This gentleman is Sir Christopher Chisholm, Laird of
Ashkirk and Torness.”

Molly frowned. “But did we not hear that… that is… ”

When she hesitated again, Patrick said with a chuckle, “Aye, Kit’s dead. I informed him of his demise only moments ago, however.
He did not know.”

Kit said to Kintail, “Perhaps we should postpone the rest of this conversation until after we eat, when we can speak more
privately.”

Molly Mackenzie cast her husband a silent but speaking look.

Kintail’s eyes twinkled as he said, “We’ll discuss it as privately as you like, Kit, but you should know that you will be
condemning Patrick and me to certain inquisition and torment if you refuse to let us tell our lasses what’s afoot. Still,
if you want the discussion to remain private, we’ll keep it to ourselves.” He met his wife’s gaze, and although she wrinkled
her nose impertinently, she did not argue.

“I have no reason not to trust them,” Kit said, “but I’d as lief the discussion not be a gift to all and sundry, so mayhap
we should wait until after we’ve eaten.”

Smiling in a way that lit her whole being and showed Kit how she had fascinated Fin, Molly said. “I’ll tell them to serve
us in my solar, sir. Our personal servants will wait on us there, and they know better than to speak of anything that happens
thus privately at Dunsithe.”

She glanced at Kintail, who nodded his approval, whereupon she caught up her skirts and hurried back inside with Beth at her
heels.

Watching until they had disappeared inside Kit said, “Are they sisters?”

“They are,” Patrick said, “although they lost track of each other for many years until by good fortune, I met and married
Beth. We’ll tell you all about that another day, but first let us get you and your lads settled and find you some food.”

“Now, will one of you please explain to me how I’ve come to be officially dead?” Kit said an hour later when their meal had
been served.

Tam, sitting beside him, said bluntly, “Aye, pray do, for I dinna ken how officialdom can enter into it when the man involved
is plainly no dead at all.”

“But where were you, sir?” Molly asked Kit. “How is it that your people lost track of you long enough to assume that you had
died?”

When Kit hesitated, Kintail said, “He was away, lass, due to a misunderstanding betwixt himself and the Sheriff of Inverness-shire.”

Kit grimaced at the memories the words evoked. “Suffice it to say, my lady, that I was out of the country.”

When Molly turned to her husband, Kintail said, “Two of Kit’s cousins were murdered in the Highlands a year ago last Easter,
and Kit was falsely accused of killing them.”

Patrick nodded, his gaze fixed on Kit as he said, “His disappearance afterward lent credence to those rumors. I think you
should have known, my lad,” he added with a grin, “that to tell two women smart enough to marry Fin and me that you were simply
‘out of the country’ would not satisfy them.”

“Certainly not,” Molly agreed. “Surely you could have got word to someone amongst your friends and family, to let them know
where you were.”

“Faith, I did not know where I was a good part of the time,” Kit muttered, exchanging looks with Tam and Willie. This part
of the tale was not solely his to tell, but he could reveal to the women as much as he had to their husbands. “I was a prisoner
on one of Beaton’s ships,” he said, “but I’m here now, the true murderer was caught, and there are no longer any charges against
me in Inverness.”

The servants returned, and conversation became desultory while they served the next course. But when the little group was
alone again, Kit said abruptly, “You still haven’t explained how I came to be officially dead. Surely, a mere lack of communication
for less than a year and a half was not sufficient reason, especially since the lack cannot have disturbed anyone until my
father died.”

Patrick and Fin exchanged looks, and then Fin said, “Have you managed to glean any knowledge of the present political situation
here?”

Kit nodded. “I know that Henry, having wrested control of the Church in England from Rome and his holiness, the pope, now
wants to take command of the Scottish Kirk as well.”

“In truth, that villain would control all Scotland,” Tam said.

Patrick glanced at the older man and nodded. “That is true,” he said. “Some time ago, Henry invited our Jamie to meet with
him in the city of York to discuss the Scottish Kirk. Fortunately, he put it to Jamie that he was just a kindly uncle offering
to help his young nephew understand the benefits of distancing himself and his country from Rome.”

“Henry is no one’s kindly uncle,” Kit said. “Moreover, James would have to be a fool to journey so far into enemy country
to confer with anyone.”

“And our Jamie is no one’s fool,” Patrick said. “He has been careful not to defy Henry outright, though. First, he told him
quite plausibly that he could not leave whilst the queen was about to produce his second child. Then, of course, the tragic
deaths of both young princes less than a month later, doubtless of the same pestilential fever that next swept through the
Borders, made it possible for him to defer the matter even longer. But Henry grows impatient.”

“And the deaths of the princes make the situation more dangerous than ever,” Kintail said. “Without an heir to the throne,
Jamie’s position becomes fragile. He has offended most of his Border lords at one time or another, so he can’t count on them
to fight Henry, and many of his more ambitious nobles would like to unseat him, making them all easy prey for Henry’s manipulating.
And Cardinal Beaton—”

“Yes,” Kit said evenly, “do tell me about the good cardinal.”

Patrick’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, but he said only, “He too advises Jamie to strengthen Scotland’s ties with Rome, of
course.”

“Aye, well, I cannot say either side of that debate appeals to me,” Kit said, “but what has any of it to do with my being
declared dead?”

Kintail said, “Political instability and the need to protect Hawks Rig and your other estates was the excuse your uncle, Eustace
Chisholm, offered after your father’s death to persuade the magistrate in Jedburgh to declare you officially dead as soon
as you’d been missing a full year. That allowed Eustace to take control of your estates immediately and to assume your titles
in April when the year was up.”

“The devil you say!” Kit exclaimed.

“The villain!” Tarn said in the same breath.

Willie sat wide-eyed, looking from one to the other.

“I have heard only rumors, of course,” Kintail said. “But you know how swiftly news travels when armies gather. They say Eustace
is calling himself Ashkirk and has done so these past few months and more.”

Patrick said, “As the eldest of your father’s brothers and the only one to survive him, Eustace Chisholm would be his legal
heir had you truly predeceased him, would he not?”

“Aye, that’s true,” Kit admitted, “but it’s damned cheek nonetheless. If my uncle ever sought information about my whereabouts
in the Highlands I heard nothing about it, and I’ve just come from Torness. My steward had received no word from Eustace,
although he did know that my father had died, thanks to my cousin Alex, who also took it upon himself to look after my Highland
estates. If anyone tried to interfere with them, Alex would have known about it, I’m sure.”

Kintail frowned. “Then I’d advise you to tread lightly, Kit. You would be wise to learn exactly what Eustace Chisholm has
done and how matters stand before you show yourself at Hawks Rig.”

“Aye, ’tis good advice,” Kit said, suppressing a surge of disappointment at the thought that he would have to delay his return
home a little longer. “In truth, I have not the least notion how my father left his affairs, but if he thought I was dead,
they may have become a trifle complicated.”

“Your uncle was astonishingly quick to take the reins,” Patrick said.

Tam made a sound of disapproval, much like a growl.

“Eustace is a cunning bastard,” Kit said. “I’ve never liked him or trusted him. Although we rarely saw him, he stirred much
of the trouble between my father and me with letters filled with seemingly casual gossip and criticism.”