Tamed by a Laird (23 page)

He was shaking his head. “ ’Tis not whether or not you’ve been here before that endangers you. ’Tis the likelihood that someone
else from Easdale may come here and recognize you from home.”

She had not considered that, but it could certainly happen.

To avert Hugh’s telling her again that she must go back to Annan House, she said, “There must still be much snow in the hills
all around Easdale. So I expect folks there will wait a few weeks before venturing forth to any large town.”

Nodding but clearly with his mind already on something else, he said, “Have you given more thought to the missing jewels?
I had hoped concern for Peg might nudge your memory to recall something useful. As she has first-head privileges at Annan
House and might easily have carried a small sack of jewels past the—”

“Good sakes,” Jenny said, annoyed with herself. Lest he think she was annoyed with him, she added hastily, “Sithee, sir, the
knacker, Parland Dow, also enjoys such privilege. And he left Annan House that night just before we did.”

“Even if he did, lass, he is trusted everywhere. You won’t persuade me that he is dishonest or that he somehow managed to
steal jewels from Dunwythie’s guests.”

“But recall that I told you someone struck him down. We came upon him straightaway afterward, but the attacker got away. What
if someone, knowing that the guards would not search him, slipped the stolen jewels under one of his packs, then clouted him
and stole the jewels back?”

“Retrieving such a sack would be risky,” he said. “But concealing it might not be. I warrant the stableyard and forecourt
were full of activity at the time.”

“Aye, with people, horses, and mules milling everywhere,” she said. “I recall something else now, too. I saw Cuddy come out
of the woods just after… Nay then,” she amended, frowning as the image came alive. “Men were searching the woods for Dow’s
attacker by then. Doubtless, Cuddy was just one of them.”

“You seemed certain it was Cuddy’s voice in your dream,” he said. “But you told me you’d heard it only once before then, when
Cath scolded him.”

“I only heard a bit of that scolding,” she explained. “They were just out of sight on the same path. When we met, he directed
me to the Joculator’s tent. He has a certain musical quality to his voice that makes it particularly memorable.”

“I ken fine what you mean,” he said. Altering his voice, cocking his head, and plumping out his cheeks, he said, “Aye, sure
I’ll tell ye, lass. His tent be just yonder.”

“That’s it exactly,” she said with a smile. “I don’t know how you do that.”

“I’ve mimicked voices and character traits all my life—and often suffered for it, too, I can tell you,” he said, smiling back.
“Some are easier than others, though. Higher voices are more difficult, and women’s voices nearly impossible.”

“You did Gerda’s well enough when you mimicked her tonight,” she said.

“Aye, well, that was supposed to be comical,” he said. “I doubt I could make anyone think I was Gerda speaking in the dark.
It is easier for me to mimic her facial expressions than her voice.”

She thought about that. “ ’Tis true that one knew you were aping her, and so paid less heed than one would just hearing that
voice come out of the darkness.”

“Enough about Gerda,” he said. “I want you to think now, lass, because what I just did… the musical note you heard… was little
more than the difference between Cuddy’s English Borderer’s accent and that of a Border Scot.”

“Sakes, is he English? Cath did not tell me that.”

“Aye, I’m sure of it,” he said. “Recall that minstrels travel far and wide, and come from many countries. And, you did have
that odd dream at Lochmaben. Rather than talking to himself in it, might Cuddy have been talking to another Englishman?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “In troth, as time passes, it becomes harder to recall
what
any of it sounded like, but I don’t think my dream had aught to do with jewels.”

He sighed, and she felt as if she had disappointed him. “I wish I could remember it more clearly,” she said. “Or know why
I reacted as I did.”

His hand grasped her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Nay, Jenny, don’t apologize. Better to be honest and accuse no one than
to make a false accusation.”

Until she released her breath, she was unaware of holding it and unaware, too, of how much she had wanted him to understand
her feelings. When he slipped an arm around her shoulders, she leaned into him. Then she promptly felt guilty, knowing she
was seeking comfort from him when she should not.

As she started to step away, his embrace tightened, and she relaxed again.

“We should go back now,” he said, releasing her and urging her forward.

Her emotions in turmoil, she protested. “But we’re going the wrong way! I left my lute behind when you snatched me up. Faith,
it’s not even mine!”

“Lucas will have collected everything,” he said. “Even your lute.”

“But he didn’t see us go. No one paid us any heed.”

“I hope you think hard about that, and learn a lesson from it,” he said, serious again. “But you may trust Lucas as I do,
lass. He does not miss much that concerns me or anyone in whom I take an interest.”

“Very well,” she said, relaxing. “At least I can see where I’m putting my feet now. I don’t know how you knew where you were
going before.”

“I have good night vision,” he said. “And there’s plenty of starlight tonight.”

As they neared the encampment, Hugh suddenly put out a hand to stop her. “Who’s there?” he said quietly.

“It be only me, sir,” Bryan said as he stepped from the shrubbery onto the track. “The sheriff’s men be searching the camp.
I thought ye’d want to know.”

Bryan vanished back into the shrubbery as soon as he had warned them, and they watched the sheriff’s men from the woods. But
if they turned up anything incriminating, neither Jenny nor Hugh saw any sign of it.

“Do you think they are looking for the missing jewels?” Jenny asked.

“If they are, it means jewelry has gone missing from other houses, too, because your uncle said he would not report the theft
at Annan House yet.”

When the sheriff’s men had gone, Jenny said, “Peg must be gey worried about me by now.”

“Nay, then, she won’t be,” Hugh said. “Lucas will have reassured her.”

He proved right about that, but Peg was clearly angry.

As she and Jenny settled at last into their sleeping places, Peg muttered, “A fine thing! Them sheriff’s louts pawing through
our
things, saying they be looking for jewels that they
admit
went missing afore this lot ever got to Annan House!”

“Did they?” Jenny said. She dared not tell Peg that jewels were missing from Annan House, too, because to do so would be to
risk word of her own knowledge of that fact spreading to the others. Without a way to explain how she knew—

“As if Bryan and them would take aught!” Peg said. “But
ye
, wandering in the woods wi’ a man whose own brother ye’re betrothed to. Nobbut what Sir Hugh be a fine-looking man and a
better one, I’m thinking, than the one you’re to marry.”

Jenny remained silent, hoping to put Peg on the defensive but knowing, too, that she could say little to defend her own actions
with Sir Hugh, either, without revealing more than she wanted Peg to know.

Peg took the hint and said no more, so Jenny counted the few stars she could see through the canopy until she fell asleep.

Having left Jenny with Peg, Hugh had gone in search of Lucas to be sure the sheriff’s men suspected nothing and that he had
collected everything.

“I did,” Lucas assured him. “Once they learned we’d joined these folks at Lochmaben, they took nae interest in our things,
any road. Ye were a time though. I canna think what ye were about to abduct that lass as ye did.”

“I wanted to teach her a lesson about keeping her eyes open in a crowd,” Hugh said. “I don’t know that I succeeded. Did you
find her lute?”

“I did,” Lucas said. “By, though, if ye’re thinkin’ ye’ll sleep now, ye should ken that t’ Joculator did say he’d like to
see ye afore ye go to bed.”

“You do not think perhaps you ought to have told me that straightaway?”

“Nah then, the man’s no master of mine, nor yours, come to that. It does ’im nae harm to wait some for ye.”

Hugh frowned. Lucas’s instincts were sometimes better than his own. “You don’t like the man?”

“I dinna dislike ’im,” Lucas said thoughtfully. “ ’Tis just summat and nowt. He smiles much, and sometimes ’e does it in a
way to melt lassies’ hearts, withal. Other times, he smiles and ’is eyes be like shards of ice. And, times when he smiles,
he looks as if he’d weep instead of laughin’. I canna tell which be the man ’imself. And, sithee, I’m thinkin’ we ought to
ken which one it be.”

Hugh nodded but had no other answer. Nor did the Joculator’s smile reassure him much when Hugh found him at the trestle table
with other men of the company, including Cuddy and the two fools. Everyone looked pleased with himself and with the fact that
the sheriff’s men had found nothing and had gone.

No one admitted knowing why they had searched the camp, but each man had a mug before him, and a tall pitcher sat near the
Joculator’s elbow. He picked it up and reached for another mug. Pouring it full of ale, he gave it to Hugh.

“Drink up, lad,” he said. “Ye’ve earned it. They’ll be talking o’ your fine performance tonight from Dumfries to Kirkcudbright
tomorrow. If our audience doesna double itself overnight, I’ll be that amazed.”

“Thank ye, sir,” Hugh said, drinking deeply. The ale was a little sweet for his taste, but he could not deny a strong thirst.
Nor did he object when the Joculator topped it off again as Hugh took the seat beside him.

“We’ll rehearse again tomorrow after we break our fast,” the Joculator said. “D’ye ken your lines yet up through the marriage
at the end o’ the second act?”

“I think so,” Hugh said.

“Aye, well, if it teases ye, Gerda can go over it all with ye afore we begin.”

Hugh hoped that would not be necessary. Gerda was beginning to get on his nerves. She simpered and fluttered as much when
they weren’t acting as when they were, and he was not sure how to discourage her without giving offense.

Later, as he stood to make his way to bed, he realized he must have drunk much more than he had thought. The Joculator had
rarely waited for his—or anyone else’s— mug to be empty before refilling it, and he had sent one of the lads at least twice
to fetch more ale from the barrel. Hugh decided that he would not be amazed if a number of them missed breakfast.

Two voices, nay more than two—mayhap three or four sets of two. He could not remember. In fact, he could not think properly.
Thoughts tumbled swiftly one moment and, the next, seemed to plow through muck to form themselves, or whatever it was thoughts
did to make themselves known in one’s head.

How did thoughts think, anyway?

“Are ye sure?” a voice said close by, startling him a little.

“Aye, o’ course,” said another. “Ye can see that he’s no himself.”