Amanda Scott - [Border Trilogy 2] (13 page)

Sibylla turned to Lady Murray and said, “I believe your son sent for my father, madam, a rather highhanded act as I’m sure you will agree. Apparently, he thinks I am not safe at Sweethope and require more protection.”

“Sir Malcolm Cavers? Coming here?”

Detecting a note of strain in place of her hostess’s usual stately aplomb, Sibylla said, “I believe so, aye. Does that displease you?”

“Nay, nay,” her ladyship said with an airiness belying her words. As if she realized it, she added brusquely, “Certes, my dear, you are too young to be all alone as you have been since Isabel left Sweethope. She ought never to have left you so.”

“I was sick, my lady, but hardly alone. As you must know, the Douglas provides Isabel with two knights and fifty men-at-arms to serve her, and more when she travels. She left twenty trustworthy men to guard Sweethope in her absence.”

“Bless me,” Rosalie said, awestruck. “Twenty men to look after you!”

Lady Murray looked disapproving, but Sibylla said with a grin, “They do provide protection for us, Rosalie. But their chief duty is guarding Sweethope Hill House. We also have a number of maidservants. I’d like to pretend that I manage the entire household in Isabel’s absence, but of course I do naught of the sort.”

“Do you not?” Lady Murray said absently, her gaze drifting to the archway.

“No, madam,” Sibylla replied. “Her steward and housekeeper look after all of us, along with her stablemaster and other servants. I was relieved to learn that Simon had sent to tell them I was safe here.”

“I am sure you were, but mayhap you should refer to him as Lord Murray in front of our guests and . . . and our servants, my dear. One does not want to give the wrong impression of your presence, as you might by referring to him so familiarly.”

She did not look at Sibylla as she spoke, and although Sibylla’s back was to the lower hall, she knew her lady-ship was watching for Simon to return with Sir Malcolm. The privacy screen shielded that end of the table from the hall, but Lady Murray’s position afforded her a view of the entrance archway at the far corner.

It puzzled Sibylla, though, that her ladyship stared with such intensity.

Demurely, she said, “I pray you will forgive me for the lapse, madam. I am so accustomed to Amalie’s calling him Simon that I’ve often done so myself. Also, I was not sure he referred to himself as Lord Murray, as Sir Iagan did not.”

“My husband was justly prouder of his knightly title,” Lady Murray said, her gaze still fixed beyond Sibylla’s shoulder. “Your father is, too, is he not?”

“He is, aye.”

“Both of them inherited baronies but won knighthoods at great risk. Simon has served the Earl of Fife in many ways but has not yet won his spurs. So he takes his title rightly as a baron, and you will call him so if you would please me.”

Sibylla murmured her willingness to do so but was not sure Lady Murray heard her. The woman’s ears were as attuned as her eyes were to the archway.

Moments later, Simon returned with Sir Malcolm. As was the latter’s custom, he was talking heartily as they entered.

“. . . so I was astonished to get your invitation, Murray! But I took your news most gratefully. I’d no notion my lass was alone at Sweethope. Never thought it! But ye were gey long-headed to think I’d not like it. I do not, not one whit!”

With a slight grimace, Sibylla arose and turned to watch the two men make their way between the trestle tables where the castle servants ate.

“Good afternoon, my lord,” she said to her father as he mounted the dais and bestowed a kiss on her cheek. “I trust you had a pleasant journey.”

“Aye, lass, aye, and ye’re looking fine but for yon bruise,” he replied bluffly.

He was not as tall as Simon and was bulkier through chest and stomach. But he’d been a handsome man in his prime and remained so despite a fondness for food and drink that had taken a toll on his figure. His once dark auburn hair had grayed at the temples, and his fashionably pointed beard bore gray streaks. But it was trim and tidy, and the silvery eyes his daughter had inherited were still wont to twinkle.

The current craze for tight, varicolored nether hose did not flatter him, but his clothing was expensive and well cut. He was a proud man but carried his pride and his impressive lineage lightly, and with an endearing touch of humility.

Despite his flaws and his tendency to make hasty decisions with which Sibylla could not agree, she had great affection for him. Now, however, he eyed her with stern disapproval as if trying to decide how to begin expressing his feelings.

A sound from behind her diverted him and drew a smile of pure delight.

“Annabel, by my faith, is it yourself?” He swept Lady Murray a deep bow. “Had I not been so grateful to see my lassie safe and sound, I’d have seen ye at once! That I failed is nobbut the measure of my concern for the naughty puss.”

“I believe my son sent for you to fetch your daughter, sir,” Lady Murray said, a touch of strain still evident in her voice.

“He did, aye, and I am glad of it and sorry she has been a trial to ye,” Sir Malcolm replied, clearly oblivious of her tension. “I’ve nae doubt ye still mourn your husband and younger son, madam. Such a tragedy to lose them both as ye did!”

“It was, indeed,” she said. “But my son has taken command here and does very well. Do you stay with us long, Sir Malcolm?”

Her manner, Sibylla thought, suggested that a short stay would be wiser.

Sir Malcolm said as cheerfully as before, “I dare not, lest your husband’s ghost haunt me. He and I did not get on, as ye ken fine, m’lady. Ye may not have been aware of that, lad,” he added in an aside to Simon. “Your father did not welcome me here, so I mark well your kindness to my lass. Still, I thought it best to leave her younger sister at home, rather than tax your hospitality.”

“You are welcome at Elishaw, Sir Malcolm,” Simon said. “I do not fight my father’s battles, especially when I do not know their cause.”

“Trifles, I promise ye, lad. Nobbut foolishness we need not discuss here.”

“Do take this seat, sir,” Simon said, indicating a back-stool near the center of the table and signing to a gillie to move his two-arm chair from the end to the place between Lady Murray and Sir Malcolm.

As the two men sat, and servants hurried to provide Sir Malcolm with food, Simon added, “My lads will bring in your men when they are ready to eat.”

Sir Malcolm nodded, but his attention had drifted back to Sibylla. “I ken fine that ye must be disappointed I did not bring Alice,” he said. “Ye’ve not clapped eyes on the lass for nearly a year, but I warrant she were glad to bide at home.”

“She is not sick, I hope,” Sibylla said.

“Nay, just put about by the grand marriage I’ve arranged for her. As she is nearly fifteen, most would say she should have married long ago.”

Aware of Rosalie beside her, Sibylla chose her words with care. “If she is put out over your choice for her husband, sir, mayhap you should heed what she says.”

His brow furrowed and his bushy eyebrows knitted as he fixed a stern look on her and said, “Ye’ll be keeping such opinions to yourself, my lass. Unlike
you
, Alice will do as I bid her.”

Sibylla felt Rosalie stir and said hastily, “I am sure she will, sir.”

“Faith, Sibylla, do you
frequently
disobey your father?” Rosalie asked.

Sibylla turned to her with a quick smile, but before she could speak, Lady Murray said, “Such a question of our guest is most improper, dearling. Prithee, wait until someone addresses you before you insert yourself into a conversation.”

“Yes, madam, I beg your pardon,” Rosalie said. “And yours, my lady.”

“Aye, sure,” Sibylla said. She sensed that Lady Murray’s curiosity was as strong as Rosalie’s and knew that both had recalled her three suitors. She could only pray that her ladyship’s strong sense of propriety would keep her from asking Sir Malcolm about them.

Simon drew Sibylla’s gratitude then by inviting Sir Malcolm to share any news he had from the capital. As Sir Malcolm continued to eat while they talked, the men effectively shut the women out of their discussion.

Enduring only a short time of this two-way conversation, Lady Murray said into a brief silence, “I hope you will forgive me, Sir Malcolm. I have much to do to see that all is in readiness for your stay. My daughter has duties to see to as well.”

“To be sure, my lady,” he said genially. “I’ve no doubt my lass will aid ye both. She’ll not want to listen to us discuss men’s affairs.”

“But heed me, Sibylla,” he added as Lady Murray arose and everyone else, perforce, did likewise. “Murray has explained how ye came to be here, and I’ll have much to say about that anon. Ye’ll return with me to Akermoor tomorrow.”

“It is good to see you, sir,” Sibylla said with a smile. “I look forward to talking more with you.”

He gave her a speculative look but did not question her meaning.

Noting a shrewder look on Simon’s face, she avoided his eye as she and Rosalie followed Lady Murray from the hall.

“Is there some way I can aid you in your duties, madam?” Sibylla asked as they reached the stairway.

“Quite unnecessary,” Lady Murray said. “I shall alert our housekeeper, although I expect Simon has already done so. Unlike most men, he is efficient about such things after years of anticipating Fife’s wishes. We will adjourn to my solar.”

Rosalie said, “I
am
sorry for speaking out of turn, Sibylla. But you did tell us about your suitors, and I just wondered if you often dare to disobey your father.”

Sibylla hesitated, waiting for Lady Murray to quell her daughter again. When she did not, and did not forbid Rosalie to join them in the solar, Sibylla said, “We can discuss that more if you like, lassie. But not, I think, here in the stairwell.”

In the solar, she waited until Lady Murray had sent a gillie with her message to the housekeeper. Then, with the door shut behind him, she said, “Do you object if I answer the lady Rosalie’s question, madam?”

“Not at all,” her hostess said, arranging herself on a cushioned back-stool and drawing her tambour frame close. “I own, bad manners or none, I am curious, too.”

“Well, I don’t often disobey, but I’ve told you how unsuited I should be to the wedded state,” Sibylla said. “That, of course, was why my lord father said what he did. After his third attempt to arrange a marriage for me failed, he told me I would end my days at Akermoor in the manner of most unmarried maidens.”

“Which is to say, as a servant in your own home,” Lady Murray said.

“Horrid!” exclaimed Rosalie. “But you live with Princess Isabel.”

“Thanks to my brother and my very kind godfather.” Lady Murray frowned. “Who is your godfather, Lady Sibylla?”

“Archibald Douglas,” Sibylla said.

Rosalie squeaked, “The Earl of Douglas?”

“He was not yet the earl,” Sibylla said. “But he was cousin to James, the second earl, and James was Isabel’s husband. Also, as Lord of Galloway, Archie was gey powerful in his own right.”

“That explains your acquiring a place with Isabel,” Lady Murray said. “The Douglas has afforded her particular attention since her husband’s death. Indeed, he pays more heed to her than members of her own royal family do.”

“I need not tell you, madam, that the princess is well beloved by most of her family. It is only one or two of her royal brothers who would cause her grief.”

“One in particular, I believe,” Lady Murray said with a sigh.

“Aye, madam,” Sibylla agreed. “I know you think highly of the Earl of Fife and that your son has long and most loyally served him, but . . .” Recalling Rosalie, she said, “But I should say no more about that.”

“Do you not like the Earl of Fife?” Rosalie asked. Lady Murray said, “Such things are complicated, dearling. But in plainest terms, we here at Elishaw strive to get on with everyone. The more allies a family has, especially powerful ones, the less likely it is to suffer in times of strife.”

Rosalie thought for a moment. Then she said, “Will you have to give up your position with the princess now, Sibylla, and become your family’s servant?”

“Oh, no,” Sibylla said. “My place with Isabel is secure, and I must soon rejoin her. She was to stay at Turn-berry only until the royal court moved from Stirling to Edinburgh. And according to what the men were saying earlier, the court
is
in Edinburgh, so I expect the most convenient course is for me to join her there.”

“But how will you do that?” Lady Murray asked, frowning. “Surely, Sir Malcolm will have something to say about it.”

“I don’t doubt he will have much to say, madam, but I must fulfill my duty to Isabel. Once his temper calms, he will soon come to understand that, I think.”

“I believe he will,” Lady Murray said, her frown turning thoughtful.

After the women left the hall, Simon maintained a desultory conversation with Sir Malcolm until the latter had eaten his fill. Then, signing to gillies to clear the table, he suggested that his guest might like to see more of Elishaw.

“I’d like to, but I’d prefer to hear more about how ye found my daughter.”

“Then we’ll walk outside, where we can talk privately,” Simon said.

“I’ve a notion ye want to quiz me as well,” Sir Malcolm said as they went downstairs. “Seems providential, this. Have ye taken an eye to my lass again?”

“No, sir, nor would it do any good if I had,” Simon said. “She made her position clear years ago, and I see no indication that she has altered it. Nor,” he added firmly, “have I changed my views. You may recall what I said to her then.”

“Roared at her, more like. But she’s a stubborn one. Defiant, too. Whilst our Hugh were alive, she’d go to him first and have him plead her case with me. He indulged her too much, did Hugh. In troth, though, I was as wax in the lassie’s hands, too. Bless me, but I ought to have taught her obedience.”

“There are tried and proven ways, sir,” Simon suggested.

Sir Malcolm grimaced. “I’m not a man of violence with my lasses, sir. ’Tis no use expecting that from me. I roar, though, and Alice—bless her—submits to roaring. But Sibylla just stands and looks at ye, waiting for the storm of ‘ye won’t’ to pass before she says, ‘I
will
.’ ”