Tamed by a Laird (45 page)

The dancers were performing, but he soon saw Cuddy, Cath, and some others strolling about, engaging in acts of legerdemain
to the amusement of watchers and victims alike. He had seen several of minstrels perform magic tricks, especially the Joculator.
But he had never seen them do so while others performed.

Seeing that now stirred a new train of thought.

Archie’s guests included not only the Bishop of Glasgow but also many of the wealthiest, most powerful lords in southwest
Scotland and the Borders. If thievery was taking place right under Archie’s nose, it would be more than an embarrassment.

How powerful would folks think the Lord of Galloway, after all, if he could not keep his guests’ belongings safe in his strongest—supposedly
impregnable—fortress? And who in the area could gain most by undermining Archie’s power and influence?

Deciding the sooner he talked to Jenny again the better, Hugh stood and turned toward the ladies’ end to fetch her, only to
see that her place was empty.

Muttering a curse, he strode to Archie instead, waited impatiently for a pause in his discussion with the bishop, and then
said, “If I may interrupt you, my lord, I would ask leave to look into a certain matter.”

Archie raised his eyebrows as he met Hugh’s gaze, then glanced out at the minstrels before he said, “I’ve lads watching them,
Hugh. Two stand right behind us.”

“Aye, sir, but you should know that men from Lochmaben are here to view your tournament or even to take part. At least one
of them previously gained access to other noble houses, so I’d like to see if I can spot him inside the castle.”

“If he
has
got in,” Archie said, “I hope he takes a good look and goes back to tell his comrades-in-arms that Threave will defy their
strongest attempt to seize it.”

“Doubtless he will,” Hugh said. “But I’m thinking he may make mischief here first. I must also seek my lady wife. She has
been away overlong.”

“Sakes, don’t tell me the lass has run off again!”

Hugh smiled. “Nay, my lord, I’ll find her easily enough.”

“Before you go, I must make you known to his eminence, the Bishop of Glasgow,” Archie said with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.
“My lord, this is Douglas of Thorn-hill. I believe you recently provided him with a special license to marry.”

“Aye, sure, I approved it,” the gray-haired bishop said in a gravelly voice. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Sir
Hugh, although I own to some distress at learning that your lady’s family seeks an annulment.”

“Mayhap they do, but we do not,” Hugh replied bluntly.

“Ah, but if a prior betrothal
does
exist—”

“Forgive me, my lord, but that betrothal was improper—unlawful, too. My lady is a baroness in her own right, capable of reading,
understanding, and signing any marriage settlement. Yet they said nowt to her about her own and insisted she betroth herself
to my brother without telling her they had granted him title to her barony, although she had steadfastly said she did not
want him. If the Kirk requires evidence, I will supply it. In the meantime, if you will forgive me, I must find her.”

With a nod to the bishop and one to Archie, and his concern mounting with every minute that Jenny failed to return, Hugh went
without further ado to find her, only to meet a battered-looking and angry Lucas first.

“Laird, t’ blighted English ’ave took your lady—aye,
and
that Peg lass, too,” Lucas said. “They kicked me down t’ stairs, and though I’m no dead yet, I’d me doots whether I could
best ’em on me own. So I came to fetch ye to do it.”

“Show me where this happened,” Hugh ordered, trying to ignore the chill that shot up his spine at the thought of Jenny in
any man’s hands but his own.

Gagged and alone with Peg in the small, dark chamber, Jenny struggled to loosen her bonds until Peg said quietly, “I’ll be
wi’ ye in a trice, mistress.”

Astonished, Jenny was more so when she felt Peg feeling for her gag and tugging its knot. “How did you get free?” she demanded
when she could speak.

“Aye, well, ye ken how Cath and them ha’ been teaching me their magic tricks,” Peg said, as she touched the rope binding Jenny
to the post. “ ’Tis how I could see what Cuddy were doing below, and how I slipped this dirk out o’ yon English ill-doer’s
boot when he dropped me over his knee.”

“But how did he not feel you take it or see the blade in your hand?”

“I pinched him with one hand as I slipped his dirk into a fold o’ me skirt wi’ the other. Then, after they brought us here,
I slid m’self low on me post as he wrapped the rope round me, wi’ me arms at me sides, so I could get at the hilt when they
left us. This blade be gey sharp, mistress,” she added. “So keep still now.”

“You did well,” Jenny said. “I just hope they did not lock the door.”

When she was free of the post—one of several supporting shelves along the wall—she stood and lifted her skirt to take her
own dirk from its sheath. Recalling that Hugh and Gilly had warned her against using it to defend herself, she clutched it
tightly anyway, telling herself that as she and Peg were now both armed, they should manage to make it safely back to the
hall.

Feeling her way to the door, she put a hand on the latch and held her breath as she silently lifted it. Then, slowly, gently,
she pushed the door ajar and sent up a prayer of thanks when it met no resistance. Inching the opening wider, she peeked out.
Moonlight from a high window revealed that the chamber beyond was empty.

Moving as silently as before, she led the way toward the stairway until shadowy movement on the landing stopped her in her
tracks. Gesturing to Peg, she eased close to the wall, hoping that whoever had moved would not look back.

Nearly certain from the shape that the man ahead of them was Bowyer, she reminded herself that his chief henchman might be
just a short distance away.

As she crept closer, she saw the figure move furtively off the landing, down the stairway. Motioning again to Peg, Jenny followed.

Hugh led the way swiftly to the service stairs and up them. When they reached the next level, he glanced back to mutter, “Art
armed, Lucas?”

“I’ve me dirk, ’aven’t I? And nae one inside has a sword, I’m thinkin’, save the guardsmen. They went higher nor this, laird,”
he added. “I did ’ear that much.”

Hugh hurried onward as silently as was commensurate with speed. He heard nothing above him but rounded a curve to meet a booted
foot thrusting hard at his head. Ducking to his right, he avoided the direct kick but took the brunt of it on his left shoulder.
It knocked him off balance and back against the wall.

The advantage lay, as it nearly always did in a confrontation on the wedge-shaped steps of a spiral stairway, with the man
coming down. The one going up had to hug his right-hand wall to maintain his footing. Unless he was left-handed, that necessity
impeded his weapon hand, while the man coming down enjoyed the better footing near the wall to his left with his weapon in
his free hand.

Hugh’s attacker did not wait for him to regain his balance but flung himself at him with dagger in hand. Hugh deftly parried
the blade with his left forearm, but with his right arm pinned between his body and the wall, his own dirk was useless.

Below him on the stairs, Lucas could not aid him and was in imminent danger of being knocked downstairs a second time. As
Hugh’s assailant moved to strike again, a second dirk flew from above and struck hilt-first against the man’s right temple,
hard enough to knock his head into the wall with an audible crack.

His weapon fell from his grasp, and he lurched heavily against Hugh.

Hugh grabbed him and made sure Lucas had snatched up the attacker’s dirk before looking up to see Jenny a few steps above,
watching them.

“That’s the one who calls himself Bowyer,” she said calmly. “Did I kill him?”

“Nay, lass, you just clouted him a good one. The wall did the rest. I think the best thing for us to do now is to make a gift
of him to Archie. You come along, too, Peg,” he added, seeing her anxious face appear around the curve above Jenny.

“His chief henchman is here somewhere, too,” Jenny said. “It was he who kicked Lucas down the stairs when he tried to prevent
them from taking us.”

“Tell me what else they did,” Hugh said grimly.

Hastily Jenny explained, assuring Hugh that neither she nor Peg had suffered any more than a loss of dignity from their capture
and brief confinement.

“We will discuss your part in all this later,” he said, still grim. “Have you any idea where the other chap may have gone?”

“When they caught us, we were coming to tell you that we’d seen Cuddy and Cath lifting more items with their sleight of hand
than they returned to their victims,” Jenny said. “Bowyer and his man caught us minutes afterward, so they must have seen
us and realized what
we
had seen. That can only mean they knew what Cuddy and Cath were doing, sir, but I don’t know how they
could
know.”

“Cuddy will tell us,” Hugh said in such a way that she did not question it. “This chap seems to be awake now,” he added. “So
mayhap he will talk, too.”

Bowyer glowered at him but said nothing.

Meekly, Jenny said, “I expect I should return to my place at the high table.”

“You and Peg will stay with me,” Hugh said. “I don’t want
you
out of my sight again until we have solved this puzzle.”

“D’ye really mean to give that ill-doin’ lout to his lordship
now
?” Peg asked.

“Archie’s men are watching the minstrels,” Hugh said. “Two stand just at the rear of the dais, so we can give him to them
to hold until we find his friend.”

“You’d do better to let us go,” Bowyer muttered as Hugh pulled him upright. “I doubt Archie Douglas wants to stir trouble
now with England by holding us.”

“That is not my decision to make,” Hugh told him. “Make sure he does not have more weapons on him, Lucas. And you two,” he
added with a stern look at Jenny and Peg, “had better keep well behind us and out of his reach.”

He fixed that stern look on Jenny alone then, as if to add that she had better stay out of
his
reach, too. But as he turned to push Bowyer into Lucas’s waiting grasp, she stepped down close behind him and put a hand
gently to his cheek.