Chapter 6

I vor sat down again as the alewife bustled in and set a mug and a tall flagon known as a tappet-hen on the table before him.

"Ye'll be wanting tae try this ale, sir," she said, pouring from the tappet-hen into the mug. "I'll bring ye some warm bread

tae go with it."

He looked up to thank her. But before he could speak, the door opened and two expressionless men in black with the well-known

emblem of the Duke of Albany prominently displayed on their cloaks strode into the room.

"Good morrow, mistress," the taller of the two said to the alewife.

Bobbing a curtsy, she said, "And a good day tae yourself, sir. Will ye and the others yet outside be wanting ale or a meal

the noo?"

"Nowt, for we ha' broken our fast. Had ye many guests for the night?"

With a nod toward Ivor, the alewife said, "Just this lad and his auld auntie, wha' still sleeps abovestairs."

"Where be ye headed?" the spokesman asked Ivor.

"My aunt has kinsmen at Callander," Ivor said.

"Aye, then, ye'd best hope ye get there afore it snows," the man said. "One can smell it in the air." With a nod to his companion, he led the way outside.

Ivor looked at the alewife. "My auld auntie?"

"Since me business be mine own, sir, I expect that yours be nane o' theirs. And that ye'd liefer no answer a lot o' their fool questions. Forbye, they dinna count bairns, so why should we? Now, d'ye like

your eggs boiled or spitting wi' butter?"

"Two, boiled hard," he said. "Will those men of Albany's come back?"

"Not them. They spent last night in Milton and will be going back the noo tae Stirling. Sithee, the duke's men come by at

odd times each month and stick their noses in wherever they will. 'Tis best tae keep clear o' them when ye can."

"I thank you for your sound advice, mistress," he said, wondering how much she had heard of his angry exchange with Marsi.

She smiled. "Ye'll want tae linger over your meal, sir, tae let them get well ahead o' ye. They'll be eager tae get back home,

though, as usual."

She went back to her kitchen, and Ivor sipped his ale, listening until the last sound of the visitors had faded in the distance.

Then he went upstairs and rapped on the women's door.

Hearing Mistress Hetty's voice bidding him enter, he did so.

"Those were Albany's men," he told the others. "They've gone now, so we can eat. But before we go down, you should know that

the alewife told them that you are my aunt, mistress. She did not mention Jamie or the lass."

"Good lack, sir!" Hetty exclaimed. "Do you think they are looking for us?"

"I don't know how that would be possible," he said. "The alewife said they spent last night in Milton and were heading back

to Stirling. Even if Albany reached Turnberry right after we left, it is unlikely that he's had the time or even good reason

to send orders out for his men to seek us here."

"That is true, Hetty," the lass said. "Recall that his grace does not know our route and no one at Turnberry except Dennison

knows that we left on a ship."

Mistress Henrietta nodded. "We'll go down at once then, sir. We were only awaiting your assurance that the newcomers were

harmless or had gone."

"You and Jamie go ahead, Aunt Henrietta," Ivor said.

She looked from him to Marsi and back at him. "I expect that if I am to be your aunt, sir, you should call me Aunt Hetty,

as Jamie will."

"We'll see," he said, shifting his gaze to Marsi. "Go along now, mistress."

Hetty hesitated. "But, sir—"

"Go," he said without looking away from Marsi. "Since we are apparently to travel as a family, we may as well begin to act

like one."

Color flooded Marsi's cheeks, but she did not speak, and a moment later they were alone in the room. Ivor realized then that

Hetty had left the door ajar. He shut it with a snap and heard the lass gasp.

Marsi eyed him warily. He did not seem as angry as he had been earlier, but alone with him as she was, she felt more vulnerable

than she ever had.

In a strange way, she felt as if she had known him all her life. She certainly knew him well enough to know that if he had decided to punish her for her outburst earlier, he would do it. She would be unable to stop him.

His attitude might change when he learned exactly who she was, but she doubted that it would. He was a man who knew himself

and not one whom rank or wealth would impress. That the King trusted him enough to entrust Jamie to his care told her that

his grace believed Hawk would do whatever he had promised to do.

The tension stretched between them until it was nearly palpable.

At last, he said with unexpected mildness, "Suppose you tell me who you are, my lady, and what demon possessed you to attempt

such a deceit. And do not spin me more of your lies. My temper won't tolerate them."

"I have told you no lies, sir." Although she said it firmly enough, she felt heat flooding her cheeks again. "I may have left

out some details, but—"

"Stop there," he said with a dangerous edge to his voice. "If you are James's cousin, you have left out more than a few details.

Not only is your very pretense a lie, but you certainly told me one by claiming to have served her grace."

"That was true," she said, striving for calm. If she did not entirely succeed, at least he was controlling his temper. "After

my parents died," she went on, "Aunt Annabella invited me to Turnberry to join her other ladies. I… I thought some of them

would be near my age, but they were all much older. Even so, they were kind to me. I… I did go with her last summer to Perth,

and… and we stayed at Scone Abbey after she fell sick. In December, after she d-died, the King…"

She paused to regain her composure, wishing that he would speak, but he did not. He seemed unaware of the tears welling in her eyes, let alone any other sign of her distress. He seemed only impatient for her to continue.

His attitude steadied her, however. She said, "The King was distraught then. So when he asked me to return to Turnberry with

him, to be there when he relayed the dreadful news of her death to Jamie, I… I…"

Choked by her tears, she could not go on.

"I see," he said quietly.

She nearly explained that she had not wanted to return to Turnberry, that she had felt abandoned by everyone until she recalled that Hetty would be with Jamie. Then it

had seemed sensible to go. Not that she'd had a choice, since the King was her guardian if only because his Queen had acted

in that capacity before her death.

Watching Hawk, she decided that she would be wiser to explain no more just then, lest she stir him to erupt again. With her

emotions on edge as they were, she doubted that she could retain what was left of her composure if he did erupt.

"What is your full name?"

"Marsaili Drummond Cargill. They named me for my mother, who was Annabella's youngest sister."

"Very well, Lady Marsaili. We will talk more about this, but for now, I'll say only that I will tolerate no more deception. If my own sister had behaved as

you have since we met, she'd have earned herself a rare skelping. From now on, you and James will follow my rules, and I will

treat you equally if you do not. Think about that before you decide to fly out at me again as you did earlier."

"I do apologize for that, sir," she said, trying to sound remorseful but hearing only exhaustion in her voice. It sounded

most unlike her, but then so had the angry virago that she had become when she'd lost her temper earlier. What if he believed that demons really were trying to possess her?

And what if they did ?

To her relief, he nodded, opened the door, and gestured for her to go ahead.

As she passed him, her skin tingled in awareness of how close he was. She felt a nearly irresistible urge to turn to him,

apologize again for her actions, and try to soothe away his vexation with her, just as she might have done with Hetty or,

before their deaths, with her parents. But instinct warned her that Hawk would not respond as agreeably as any of them would

have to such soothing.

Following immediately after that train of thought came the realization that what she had really wanted was a hug from him.

Just the thought of those strong arms wrapping around her, holding her tightly…

With a sigh, she pushed the thought away, knowing that he was not finished with her yet. However, he was unlikely to take

her to task before Hetty and Jamie, so since just the four of them would be traveling together until his men caught up with

them, she should gain a respite. It occurred to her only when she was halfway down the stairs that she ought to have told

him that Albany would be almost as eager to get his hands on her as on Jamie, and why.

She could not tell him such a thing right there on the stairs. Nor could she seem to think of another way to tell him straightaway.

She would do it later.

If she was being cowardly, so be it.

Ivor followed Marsi, wondering at himself. Her outburst in the taproom had surprised him, but he had reacted as any man of sense in his position would have, with intent to teach her that any time she fought with him, he would win.

With so much at stake, she needed to understand who was in charge.

With that purpose in mind, he had meant to give her a tongue-lashing that she would not forget. Instead, the instant he had

recognized the depth of her grief, he had wanted to comfort her. He controlled that urge, but by doing so, he had barely even

begun to express his opinion of what she had done. Sakes, he had not even demanded all the answers that he wanted from her,

chief amongst which was the primary one: What demon had possessed her to pose as a nursery maid?

He could scarcely expect her to believe now that he had meant it when he'd said that he would brook no more deception. Surely,

she must think that she had managed to wrap him around her thumb. And, if that was what she thought, God alone knew what she might say or do next.

He had to correct the situation, and quickly.

His volatile temper usually alarmed people. His men had deep respect for it.

Recalling even Jake's reaction to a mere frown from him, Ivor wondered what it was about Marsi that had so unmanned him. To

be sure, she was much smaller than he was, but so was his sister Catriona. And he had never had any trouble expressing the

full range of his temper with Cat when she angered him.

Cat certainly knew better than to lie to him, but Marsi, by her actions and omissions, had lied. She would doubtless continue to insist that she had not, but deception in and of itself was a lie, and so he would tell her.

They found Hetty and James tucking into a generous breakfast. At Ivor's place was a bread trencher, a bowl of hot porridge,

two boiled eggs in a small basket, a platter of sliced beef, and a large basket of warm bannocks. Bramble jam and a pot of

butter sat in the middle of the table beside the tappet-hen.

James eyed Marsi speculatively, and as she took her seat across the table from him, he said, "I'm glad tae see that ye're

still in one piece. It got so quiet up there that I feared the man had throttled ye."

Ivor fixed a stern gaze on the boy, but James continued to look at Marsi.

Her cheeks were bright red, but Ivor saw no sign of the tears he had detected earlier. She did not reply to James's comment,

though.

Hetty said, "There is fresh cream in that wee pitcher, my la—" Breaking off with a click of her tongue, she looked at Ivor

and said quietly, "James told me that he gave her away, sir. Still, I expect we should go on addressing her as Marsi, aye?"

"Aye," he said. "We will also discuss the weather and other such everyday topics whilst we remain in this room, mistress.

When we finish eating, I'll go and see that the stable lad is preparing our horses, whilst you three get ready to go."

"It is but ten miles or so from here, I believe, to… to where we are going next," Hetty said. "Unless you mean to travel on

from there."

"Nay, we'll wait there for my men," Ivor said. "Wolf told me of an inn at the north end of that town. Before we left Turnberry,

on his advice, I gave orders to my men to seek us first in Balloch, at the south end of Loch Lomond. When they do not find us there, they will go on to that other inn, taking care not to pass us by."

He saw Marsi look at him, and although she pressed her lips together as if determined to keep silent, he understood what she

wanted to ask as easily as if she had spoken. "We'll see my men by sundown tomorrow, if not sooner."

Her eyes had lost the merry, often mischievous look that he had begun to watch for, and he missed seeing it. She looked a

little sad but not sullen when she nodded and returned her attention to her food. At least, she was not the sort of female

who refused to eat whenever she was upset.

James began to stand, saying, "I've finished, so I am going—"

"Excuse yourself properly, lad," Ivor said.

"Aye, sure, but I just want go out and find the pri—"

"Wait for me then," Ivor said. "I don't want you going outside by yourself, James, not here or anywhere else we may go. Not

under any circumstance. Nor, when we stay at inns or alehouses, are you to go alone into the common rooms."

"I won't then, sir," James said. "You will be finished shortly, will you not?"

Hearing a small sound from the lass beside him that was surely a bitten-back chuckle, Ivor kept looking at James but smiled.

"Art in a hurry, laddie?"

"Ye'll ha' the goodness no tae laugh," James said. Then he shifted his gaze to Marsi. "Ye, too. Nor tae make me laugh, either o' ye."

Marsi murmured, "But, Jamie, you said that the reason you wanted me to come was because I make you laugh and Hetty does not."

"Aye, sure, but I'm having second thoughts on the matter just now," he said. "If ye're coming, sir, I wish ye'd bestir your

behouchie."

"And just where did you hear that dreadful phrase?" Mistress Hetty demanded, her eyebrows arcing high.

"The helmsman, Coll, says it whenever he thinks one o' his lads be dawdling about his work," James replied with his infectious

grin. "I like it."

Ivor, still smiling, said, "Doubtless, you should make as little use of it as possible in polite company, lad. What a helmsman

says on his ship is not what your father will want to hear in his audience chamber or anywhere else, I'd wager."

"Ye'd be wrong then," James said. "He likes good words and amusing phrases. I heard a number of good ones yesterday tae tell

him," he added. "And if I repeat them now and now, I'll be more likely tae remember them for him."

Ivor glanced at Marsi and was glad to see the merry twinkle back in her eyes.

She said, "Mayhap we can compose a list for his grace, Jamie. If we both try to remember as many good ones as we can—"

Clearly aware that she was teasing him, the boy shook his head at her. But when he looked at Ivor again, anxiously, Ivor nodded.

"Aye, we'll go now," he said.

To Marsi, he added quietly, "Help Mistress Hetty collect your things. James and I will fetch our bundles when we return, and

we'll bring everything down then."

She nodded again, but the merry look had vanished. The change stirred an urge in him to touch her. Abruptly, he turned away

to follow James.

Watching them go and aware that Hetty was already getting to her feet, Marsi sighed. She was not looking forward to going

back upstairs. She thought Hetty would likely have even more to say to her than Hawk had.

To her surprise, Hetty said nothing about Hawk or about Marsi's being alone with him in the bedchamber. She just bustled about

in her usual way, tidying up.

Marsi looked around to be sure that they were not leaving anything behind and then tied up her own bundle. Hetty went into

the other bedchamber and soon returned with the things that Jamie had brought with him.

"Hetty, I ken fine that you must be burning to speak to me," Marsi said at last. "I wish you would say what you want to say."

"I've nowt that I need to say, my lady. I ken fine that ye didna tell him that ye were in his bed. And, in troth, I'm thinking

ye should keep that fact tae yourself."

"Good lack, as if I'd want to tell him that! I couldn't, Hetty. Not ever!"

"Did ye tell him that ye be a royal ward?"

"I did not, for why should I? Nor did I tell him that Albany will be after me, but I do know I must tell him that. I should

have done it when he and I were alone up here. But, by my troth, Hetty, I never thought of it until I was halfway down the

stairs. And, then… I could not."

"Dinna fret, ye'll get your chance soon enough," Hetty said.

Hearing booted footsteps on the stairs, Marsi knew that she was right.

Hawk and Jamie were upon them by then and gathered up all the bundles. As the women and Jamie followed Hawk downstairs, the alewife emerged from her kitchen with two sacks in

hand.

"I've put up summat for ye tae eat," she said. "Ye'll be glad of it by midday."

Thanking her and giving her a few coins in exchange for the food, Hawk ushered them into the yard, where the stable lad stood

with their horses.

Slipping another coin to him, Hawk helped Hetty onto her horse and took the reins of the sumpter pony from the stable lad.

Without a word, he led the sumpter out onto the empty road. Following him with Jamie at her side, Marsi realized that, other

than Albany's men earlier, she had heard no riders pass by.

The air was cold and crisp, and she could hear the river Leven, just west of them, rushing southward to the Firth of Clyde.

Overhead, the sky was still gray but with the kind of mist that thinned quickly after sunrise. Thanks to the hills flanking

the vale, the sun had not yet appeared. Low fog still obscured much of the ground and drifted across the road in misty puffs,

but her cloak and boots were warm.

Hawk strode ahead of them, leading the sumpter. He still had not spoken or looked back, clearly expecting them to keep up

with his long strides easily.

With a wry grimace, Marsi exchanged a look with Jamie and slowed down.

His eyes twinkled. "What d'ye think he'd do if he turned and we'd vanished?"

Behind them, Hetty said, "I think ye'd prefer no tae find out."

He shot a grin at her and then turned back to Marsi. "Shall we? I dare ye."

"Dare away," she said. "Do you think me a fool? Nay, do not answer that. Nor do I want to hear that you warned me that he'd be angry when he learned the truth."

"Aye, well, I didna mean tae give ye away as I did," Jamie said gruffly.

"None of it was your fault," Marsi said. "Nor is it over yet," she added when she saw Hawk glance back at last. He slowed

until they caught up with him.

"Jamie, you walk beside Mistress Hetty for a time," he said. "And keep your eyes open as we go. If you see aught that seems

unusual, tell me straightaway."

"Where will ye be, then?" Jamie asked.

"Right in front of you, but I want the lady Marsaili to walk with me now, so that I can talk with her. I'd like you and Mistress

Hetty to stay just far enough back to avoid overhearing us and to serve as extra eyes and ears for us whilst we talk."

"Aye, sure," Jamie said with a sympathetic look for Marsi.

She had expected to feel as if she needed sympathy, but the truth was that she did not. For a time, while they had broken

their fast, she had dreaded what she knew must lie ahead with Hawk. But now that the time had come, she felt only relief.

As he turned again to move on and she hurried to keep up with him, she told herself that she could accept anything that he

might say to her. But when he looked at her, his hazel-green gaze somber beneath his thick, dark-tawny eyebrows, a disconcerting

tickle of trepidation slid up her spine.

He faced forward again and remained silent. Then, glancing over a shoulder, he said. "They won't hear us now. So, tell me if what you said to James earlier means that you came with them only because he asked you to come."

Sorely tempted but knowing better, and not having expected him to begin in such a way, Marsi glanced up at his profile, trying

to judge his mood.

"Nay, lass," he said, shaking his head. "Just talk to me, and do not try to imagine what will go down best with me. Tell me

the truth."

"I mean to," she said. "I was just surprised when you did not start scolding straightaway. I ken fine that I deserve to hear

whatever you might say to me, not only for pretending to be what I am not, but also for what I said to you earlier."

" Did James ask you to come?"

She thought about that, remembering the way that Jamie had stuck his head out between the bed curtains and surprised her,

and Hetty, with his comment.

"Hetty and I thought he was asleep," she said. "I was unhappy that they were leaving, and he did say that I should go, too.

He even offered to command me. But I made the decision, sir." She paused, remembering more. "Hetty said I should not."

"Hetty was right," he said.

Marsi fixed her gaze on the road ahead. The dangerous note was in his voice again, and she did not want to see his expression

lest it banish the sense of comfort she felt, walking beside him and talking openly at last.

She knew that he must still be angry with her, but she felt no fear of him or how he might punish her. Instead, she wanted

to get more of her thoughts out in the open, even if she did provoke him.

When he did not say more, she said, "Hetty said that I was daft to come."

"You were."

"Aye, perhaps. But she also said that, having known me all my life, she should have known better than to tell me I should

not . I fear she was right about that, too."

She expected him to react, but he kept silent. For a few steps more, she resisted looking at him, waiting, sure that he would

say more. Then she could resist no longer. Glancing up, she saw that he was watching her, his lips pressed together.

When her gaze collided with his, his lips twitched.

Relaxing, she said, "Impulsiveness is a dreadful fault, I know."

"It is more than a fault if it tempts you to take such foolhardy actions."

"Perhaps so," she admitted. "But, you see, I did not really know anyone at Turnberry except for Jamie and Hetty. I mean, I

know his grace, of course, but not as a friend or companion. Sithee, all of her grace's ladies either returned to their homes

or went into service with one of the royal princesses."

The moment of true reckoning had come, and she knew it. Again, the temptation was great to say no more and hope that he would

somehow assume that no one at Turnberry would miss her. But she could not do that. Not only did it feel like a betrayal of

her promise to him, but also he was very astute and would…

"So you were all alone there," he murmured. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen next month, but that is not why I left Turnberry."

"Is it not?"

She looked up at him again and saw that he was still watching her closely.

"No, sir, and prithee, do not say more until I have said what I must. I have felt guilty about this ever since you said that

Albany was unlikely to pursue Jamie and much more likely to wait until he learns, as he will, where Jamie has gone."

"You fear that he will pursue the lad straightaway, do you?"

"Not Jamie, no. I think you were right about Albany's being more likely to wait and see where Jamie goes. But I'm afraid that

he is likely to pursue me."