Chapter 14

A lthough Ivor had not yet said aye or nay to following Kincardine Glen, Marsi took hope from the fact that he had not flatly

declared that they would not.

She would have liked to add that her uncle's men-at-arms would keep any strangers out of the glen. But she had taken ample

enough measure of Sir Ivor Mackintosh to know that if she pushed him to make a decision before he was ready, he would be as

likely as she would be to dig in his heels.

Accordingly, she said, "If it will be days yet before we can talk with Bishop Traill, I think we should go on as we have been,

don't you?"

"If that is what you want," he said. "But you ought to consider how you will answer if Albany does catch up with us and asks

if we have consummated our marriage. If you say we have not, he is likely to take you in charge immediately. If you can honestly

say we have, I should be able to prevent that."

"But you would not be able to keep him from taking Jamie," Marsi said. "So he is not going to catch us, and that is all we need say about that." A second thought stirred. "If we are not going to seek shelter

with my uncle at Kincardine—"

" If Sir Malcolm is even there."

"He does sometimes stay there in winter. But, if we are not to go there, do you think that Bishop Traill can keep Albany from

taking me in charge?"

"I cannot answer that, but I doubt it. No women live at St. Andrews Castle, so the bishop cannot offer you sanctuary there.

In your behalf, he would be able to exert authority over Albany only as he would over any member of his flock."

"He had enough influence to banish Albany from Annabella's bedchamber at Scone," Marsi said, touching her ring.

"Aye, for the worthy Traill does have a way about him. But recall that Scone Abbey also lies within his purview, as does Lindores,

and his authority must always be greater on Kirk ground. Moreover, Albany is a religious man in his own way, so doubtless

he fears for his immortal soul if he angers Traill. But whilst he may have bowed to Traill then, the bishop is not your guardian,

lass. Your best hope for protection against him must be his grace or a husband of your own."

"Art truly willing to be that husband, sir?"

"More so each day," he said with a look warm enough to stir tremors of heat throughout her body.

Trying to focus on the important matter at hand, she said, "You have not always approved of me, or of my behavior."

"True, but I would have stepped in had anyone else taken exception to it," he said with a gruff note in his voice that stirred

sensations stronger than mere warmth, sensations that she had never felt before. "I find myself feeling unnaturally protective

of you even when I want to wring your lovely neck," he added dryly.

Despite the depth of her concerns, Marsi could not help smiling at that.

Ivor welcomed her smile, but it did things to him that told him he should not be alone with her much longer. His desire for

her was already strong, and the fact that she had legally become his made her even more desirable. But pressing her now for

an answer would be unwise, he knew. She had to decide for herself.

A rap at the door preceded Hetty's announcement that the boys were hungry and supper would shortly be ready. The interruption

broke the spell between them, if spell it was. "Wash your face and hands, lass," Ivor said as he went to let Hetty in. "I

will go and do the same. Then we'll eat our supper and retire early. If this good weather holds, I want to be off as soon

as we know the road is safe."

Leaving her in Hetty's capable hands, he went to his chamber and found both boys waiting impatiently to eat.

After supper, when Ivor went outside to confer with Aodán, he noted with satisfaction that the dark sky revealed a blanket

of stars. Although the clouds had disappeared, which often meant colder air, it seemed warmer.

Truly, he thought, the gods of weather seemed unable to make up their minds whether to present winter in earnest or pretend

that spring was nigh.

"That snow's no sticking to the road, sir," Aodán said when Ivor entered the stable, as if Aodán's thoughts had followed a

path similar to his master's.

"I want to be away after we break our fast," Ivor said. "The lads can pack the sumpters whilst those inside are eating. I'll

see that their things are ready to go."

Aodán smiled. "Young Will does be a good worker, sir. I'd like to have him about all the time. But our lad seems bent on keeping

him by his side. Sakes, but ye could have knocked me down with a broom straw when I saw him mucking out stalls alongside Will

before Mistress Hetty came and collected them."

"We'll let their relationship proceed as it will," Ivor said, recalling Marsi's words on the subject. "James has had few friends

his own age in his short life."

"And Will's a good lad," Aodán said. "Come to that, both o' them have lost their mams, and Will has lost nigh his whole family.

D'ye think that that townsman will come looking for him?"

"I'd expected to see him before now," Ivor said. "Tell our men to wear whatever they like tomorrow. Our Highland gear was

a good notion for a short time, but anyone might follow such a colorful group as easily as Will did."

Aodán nodded, and Ivor left, meaning to return to his room. But no sooner did he step back into the yard than the rising moon

caught his eye.

The peaceful night was beautiful. Not a breeze stirred. The only sound was that of a nearby stream until one of the horses

snorted in the stable. It was a perfect night to be watching the moonrise with a beautiful woman.

He wondered what Marsi was thinking, only to decide that, in fact, he knew. He was also confident that he knew what choice

she would make, but the moment that thought crossed his mind, he looked skyward and told himself not to be a fool. Life never went according to one's wishes and rarely according to one's plans.

Suppressing his doubts, telling himself that what came would come, he instantly saw himself trying to explain the situation

to his father and grandfather, each as temperamental as he could be himself.

He could hardly tell them that, due to circumstances he would rather not describe, he found himself married to a ward of the

Crown. That would not go down well. Nor would it help to add that, because of that marriage, he had doubtless made a lifelong enemy of the Duke

of Albany.

"Och, aye," he muttered. "That will be a fine talk, that will." Then, sighing, he added silently, And that's if this business with Marsi goes as I hope it will .

He decided that at the least, he had better let his sister and Fin know that he was nearing Perth, and alert them to the likelihood

that he might need help.

The boys were on their pallet talking when he entered the bedchamber, and he let them chatter until he had got into bed. Then,

he hushed them with a single word and fell into deep slumber from which he did not stir until dawn.

An hour later, he and the others were on the road, and by midday, they were nearing the village of Blackford on the south

bank of Allan Water. Although they could see its buildings in the distance, it was still a half-hour away.

Ivor called a halt, leading the way to some flat boulders near the burn, where they could eat the food the inn's servants

had packed for them. Dismounting, Ivor called Aodán to him and said in Scots, "I want you to see if Blackford is already crawling with Albany's men. "Take Will with you, but do something to disguise him, in the event that

any of the tanner's men are seeking him here."

"I dinna need Will, sir. I ken how Albany's men look as well as ye do."

"Aye, sure," Ivor said. "But the tanner's men are just as dangerous to Will, and if Murdoch Stewart's men from Doune are there

instead of Albany's, the lad is more likely than you are to recognize them if they are not wearing black clothing."

"Aye, for he also comes from Doune," Aodán admitted. "I'd no ken the Duke o' Albany himself if he put off his usual garb."

"Do it as quietly as you can," Ivor said. "The lady Marsaili still wants to go to Kincardine from here. She suggested that

we ride up Kincardine Glen, which lies near where this road crosses the Stirling-Perth road, just two miles ahead."

"What d'ye think o' that notion, sir?"

"We'll talk about that after I know what awaits us in Blackford," Ivor said. "Come to that, Aodán, I want to know about any large contingent of men in Blackford. Albany has many allies."

Aodán nodded and turned away, shouting for Will to help with the horses, only to hear Will say quietly, "I be here, sir. I

thought ye might be wanting me."

Neither man had noticed his approach. But Aodán grinned, patted the boy's shoulder, and told him that he would be glad of

his help.

Ivor, noting that Marsi had dismounted and was watching them, handed his reins to Will and went to join her near the water.

Marsi watched Ivor approach, wondering what he had been discussing with Aodán. The way he'd looked at her when the two men

parted made her think at first that they might have been talking about her. However, Ivor looked unnaturally wary as he drew

near, as if he expected trouble.

Noting that Hetty had kept Jamie from following Will and was supervising him as he washed his hands and face for their meal,

Marsi returned her attention to Ivor. Bluntly, she said, "Have you decided yet, sir, which way we will go?"

His eyes narrowed at her tone, but he said evenly, "We will wait here until Aodán and Will have a look at the town. I want

to know if Albany's men or the tanner's are there. No one will suspect a horseman with a boy up behind him."

"If the tanner's men are there…"

"I told Aodán to disguise Will a bit. But I doubt they'll run into trouble."

To draw him back to her question regarding their route, she said, "If they do see Albany's men or the tanner's, what will

we do?"

"We'll avoid the town," he said. "Since we'd have to go into Blackford to cross the Allan Water and continue northeastward,

we'd do better then to skirt it by riding into those hills southeast of us if I only knew of a suitable place for us to go."

"Hetty might know," Marsi said. "We'll ask her. I do still think that if we can get to Kincardine, we'll be safe there. The

glen itself is guarded, sir, and the people know me well. They will not let harm come to us."

He did not reply, and Hetty, whom Marsi had been eyeing as they talked, quickly responded to a gesture to join them. "What

is it, my lady?" she asked.

"Sir Ivor wants to avoid Blackford if Albany's men or others seeking Will are there. Since the Allan Water keeps us from going

north without entering the town, we hoped you might know of a place to stay if we must in those hills yonder."

Frowning thoughtfully, Hetty said, "I ken one such place, to be sure. 'Tis a wee alehouse in a clachan not too far this side

of the road from Stirling to Perth. If we decide to go to Kincardine, we can follow a fisherman's track much of the way."

Ivor looked at Marsi, and he was frowning. "I've just recalled that you said this Redmyre chap owns land on both sides of

the Firth of Tay, lass. If we make for the Fife coast, might we cross his southern estate? Do you ken where it lies?"

"Annabella described it only as a valuable estate with a high tower that overlooks the firth and the river Earn where they

meet."

"Then it must lie west of the river," he said. "I mean to keep south and east of that river, so we should avoid trouble with

him. I don't recall any way to cross the Earn near its confluence with the firth. It's gey turbulent there, and deep."

"It is not my place to offer advice to you, sir," Hetty said. "But…"

Lifting an eyebrow, Ivor said, "I think that you have more than earned the right to do so, mistress. What would you advise?"

"That her ladyship is right to suggest going to Kincardine, sir. It is not only nearby and well guarded but the guards will recognize us or agree to summon someone who will. Also, they

will think naught of our having two boys with us."

"What if Sir Malcolm chances to be there? Do you have the same faith that her ladyship does that he will aid her in avoiding

Albany's plan for her future?"

"I cannot say that, sir," Hetty said. "But I do believe that Sir Malcolm will honor her declaration of marriage. One of his

sisters married in such a way, in the teeth of their father's fury. The old laird let be, asking no more than that they marry

properly in the Kirk. I believe that Sir Malcolm will do the same, especially…"

She glanced at Marsi, who grimaced, knowing what Hetty was not saying.

Looking at Ivor, Marsi found him eyeing her quizzically. She knew then that he had followed Hetty's train of thought as easily

as she had.

Bluntly, she said, "Especially if we consummate this mad marriage that I managed to contrive for us. That is what you want to say, is it not, Hetty?"

Ivor reacted more strongly to Marsi's words than he had to Hetty's, and in a much more physical way. The thought of a consummation

with her had teased his mind ever since the subject had arisen. That she had said the words herself seemed to make the likelihood

of its happening much stronger. He possessed better sense, however, than to stick his oar into their discussion.

Meeting the lass's gaze, Hetty said as bluntly as she had, "Aye, that is what I'd recommend, my lady. You must know your uncle well enough to realize that if you tell him you are married but cannot look him in the eye and declare that

you have consummated the union, he is more likely to lock you in a bedchamber and send for Albany than to do aught else. Kincardine sits in Albany's dominion of Fife, after all, not miles away in Perthshire as

Cargill and Stobhall do."

"True," Marsi said with a sigh.

"Aye, it is," Hetty said. "And as strong as Albany's authority is in Perthshire, it is stronger here. I doubt that your uncle

would willingly draw his ire by aiding you in your consummation or ignoring its lack. There now. I ken fine that you did not

want to hear that, but I do believe that is how he would behave."

"And I still think he will honor Annabella's wishes," Marsi said. "He will perfectly understand why she opposed Albany's offering

me and Cargill to Lindsay of Redmyre. My own father held those lands in my mother's name, after all, not his own. And they came

to me from my mother. But Albany would hand them over to Redmyre, kittle and kine, just to win Redmyre's vote for the Governorship."

Ivor, noting that her temper was rising, prepared to intercede, if only to keep peace between the two women. But Hetty made

that step unnecessary.

"Mayhap you are right," she said calmly. "There is James now, looking for his food. Shall we go and see what the innkeeper's

people have provided for us?"

Noting the stunned look on Marsi's face, Ivor had all he could do not to grin at Hetty's tactics. He would remember them.

With a strong sense of hopeful anticipation, he decided to let the seeds that Hetty had planted have some time to take root.

Marsi had had other arguments to offer, but Hetty's calm reply had taken the wind from her sails. It did not help that when

she looked at Ivor, he gazed steadily back at her… until his lips twitched.

"What?" she demanded.

His eyebrows arced, reminding her that like many men, he did not appreciate curtness unless it was his own.

Moderating her tone, she said, "I expect that you still think I'm wrong."

"I do not know Sir Malcolm," he said. "I do know that I've not heard anyone describe him as a man likely to oppose Albany.

Forbye, that does not mean that he will not do so on your account. I do think we'd be taking a needless risk. But I won't fratch with you, lass," he added. "If we can

go through Blackford safely, we will."

His answer displeased her, but she did not argue. And when Aodán and Will returned, they reported having seen many men in

black wearing Albany's device, and others that Will had recognized as minions of Murdoch Stewart in Doune.

"They do seem tae be waiting for summat," Aodán said. "They ha' stabled their horses but only for the day. We saw watchers

on the Stirling road, too."

"Did ye see any of your old master's men, Will?" Jamie asked when Aodán paused for breath.

"Nary a one," Will replied. "Mayhap he doesna want me back at all."

"A gey good thing that would be," Jamie said.

"Aodán, tell the others that we'll ride to a clachan in the hills that boasts an alehouse," Ivor said. "And send Sean Dubh

to me. I have an errand for him."

Aodán hesitated, glancing at Marsi, Jamie, and Will. Then he said in the Gaelic, "Begging your pardon, sir. If you be sending

him to Sir Fin, in Perth, do you think it wise to send only the one lad?"

"Sean can look after himself," Ivor replied in the same language. "I want to send two of the other lads to Lindores Abbey

at Newburgh so they can arrange for a boat to meet us there or nearby, if need be."

"We have gey few men as it is," Aodán said. "Your lord father—"

" 'Tis true that we're a small band, Aodán. But that may aid us in the end, because no one would believe that so few men guard

so important a charge. In troth, I can scarcely believe it myself and would feel more secure with an army."

"By your own reckoning, that would just call more attention to us," Aodán said. "Forbye," he added with a sigh, "Albany would

just raise a larger one."

"Where are you sending Sean Dubh?" Marsi asked Ivor in Scots.

"I'll tell you later, lass," he said, glancing at the two boys.

Jamie and Will had moved a little away, but Marsi knew that they might well be listening avidly to all that they could hear

and understand. Certainly, she would have done so at their age in like circumstances. In fact, by not telling Aodán and Ivor

that she had understood them, she was doing the same thing now. But it served them right. It was rude to speak a language that they thought others did not speak.

"Does the fact that we're riding to Hetty's wee clachan mean that you have changed your mind about going to Kincardine?" she

asked Ivor.

"Not yet," he said. "If we can spend the night safely at that alehouse of hers, I'll send Aodán and one of the others back

to town in the morning to see if Albany's men and the tanner's have moved on. Sithee, to go by way of Kincardine Glen, as

steep and narrow as you say it is, will take longer than keeping to the lower straths."

She could not argue that point. For all she knew, the glen would be stuffed full of snow. There was little left of the recent

snowfall where they were. But the nearby hills still wore lacy caps of the stuff. As sheltered as Kincardine Glen was, all

the snow that had fallen might still be just sitting there, blocking their way.

Ivor told Sean Dubh to ride to MacGillivray House in Perth, relay their plans to Fin Cameron, and arrange for him to meet

Ivor in three days' time on the south side of the river Earn near a great bridge they knew from their days at St. Andrews.

"Tell Fin to bring as many men as he can," Ivor added. "He will not have traveled with more than his usual tail of six to

house in the town of Perth. But he should gather as many others as he can."

He also sent two of their four men-at-arms to Lindores Abbey with a message for the abbot to forward to Jake Maxwell. After

that, they had only to pack up the little debris from their meal and find the hill track that Hetty remembered.

The track was little more than a deer trail wending its way up through the thickly forested hills, and Ivor, well aware that

their passage would make the trail more noticeable, told Aodán to have one of his two remaining men-at-arms fall back and

do what he could to minimize evidence of their passage.

Dusk had fallen by the time they reached their destination. The clachan consisted of four thatched cottages and a barn set

amidst a scattering of trees in the otherwise dense forest. Much the largest of the four cottages was the alehouse.

When Ivor wondered aloud how such an establishment could support itself, lying as far as it did from Blackford or any well-traveled

road, Hetty explained that the alemaster made his living primarily from late spring through early fall.

"Fishermen stay with him regularly to fish nearby streams more easily," she said. "As I recall, he boasts three wee bedchambers

at the top of the house. So, if they have anyone else staying here, we will find ourselves in gey close quarters."

The alewife bustled out to the tiny yard when they rode into it and exclaimed joyfully at the sight of Hetty and Marsi. Professing

herself astonished to see the latter, she added that the two boys could not possibly be the lady Marsi's.

Marsi, recognizing the plump, middle-aged woman at once as an erstwhile maidservant at Kincardine, said, "Nay, Martha, the lads are in Sir Ivor's charge. But it is gey good to see you again! I hope that you and all here are well."

"Aye, sure, m'lady. Sir Ivor must be your husband, then," Martha said.

Noting Hetty's wry smile, Marsi was able to think of only one way to keep all of her own options open. Praying that she could

trust Sir Ivor not to take base advantage of what she would say, she cautiously slipped her ring from her middle finger to

the next one as she said, "Aye, Martha. He is a Highlander, and we are but newly wed. However, since you have so few bedchambers

for guests, you must put Hetty and me together in one and let the boys share another with Sir Ivor. That way, you will still

keep your third chamber for anyone else who might come."

"Bless ye, m'lady, I canna do that!" Martha exclaimed, laughing. "We ha' nae one here save our own folk. We'll put Sir Ivor's

men in the barn loft wi' our three lads, and them boys in a room by themselves if Hetty thinks they can behave so. Then, she

can ha' a room tae herself, whilst ye sleep as ye should wi' your husband."

Marsi wanted to insist that she need do no such thing. But, before she could think of an acceptable way to say so to the beaming

alewife, Ivor put an arm around her shoulders and said politely, "You have my thanks, Mistress Martha."

"I'm sure I do, sir," Martha said, twinkling at him. "Folks hereabouts do call me Mistress Muir, though. Me man be Calum Muir."

"Then we shall call you so as well," Ivor said, urging Marsi forward as he did. "If you will just take us to our rooms, I

would be privy with my lady."

Shouting for someone named Jem, Martha soon had them settled in rooms they entered from a wooden, railed gallery overlooking

the common room. The rooms were small but looked more comfortable than Marsi had expected them to be.

The only one that did not feel comfortable was their own bedchamber when Ivor shut the door and turned to face her. He kept both of his hands behind him,

as if he did not trust himself to keep from shaking her.

Having not known what to expect from him after her second declaration of their marriage but certain that his reaction must

range somewhere between stern censure and outright wrath—more likely leaning nearer the latter than the former—she was astonished

when he revealed no expression at all.

Then she heard the bolt on the door snap home behind him.

Tremors shot through her but whether from fear or excitement, she could not tell. Every nerve in her body began to hum as

if in preparation to react strongly, one way or the other. Then, despite her warm, fur-lined cloak, a near chill swept over

her and spread inward to her bones.

"I… mayhap I should not have…" She paused to lick suddenly dry lips.

"Should not have what?" he said, taking a purposeful step toward her.

She would have stepped back… She was sure that she wanted to step back. But her feet had stuck to the floor.

Her skin prickled. She was breathing rapidly, and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Sakes, she could hear it!

He gripped her left shoulder, and she felt herself jump. It was as if she stood outside her body, watching him touch her,

watching herself react to his touch.

Her heart beat faster, sending fiery heat through her. But her face felt numb.