Chapter 11

I f Lady Clendenen noted tension between Sidony and Giff, she paid it no heed. Having made it clear that she did still intend to meet Isabella on Thursday, she waited only until Sidony agreed to leave town with her shortly before noon, then bustled away to her bedchamber to begin dressing for Adela’s supper.

The minute her ladyship was beyond earshot, Sidony said accusingly to Giff, “You already knew about Isabella! I knew you were keeping something back.”

“Did you?” he said in a maddeningly calm way. “I hope you don’t expect me to apologize again, for I’ve no intention of doing so, but I must find Rob at once and tell him about this. He’ll say I ought to have asked how she got her information, but doubtless she’d have snubbed me if I had asked. She won’t snub him.”

“But why should she snub anyone?” Sidony demanded as he hurried her across the yard to the entrance steps. Her cheeks burned with anger, but he—doubtless without any thought for that anger or for any impropriety—had put an arm around her shoulders. The enraging part was that despite being furious with him, she enjoyed the warm feeling it gave her. He did not even seem to be thinking about her, though, because he had not answered her question.

“The most likely person to have informed Ealga is the countess,” she persisted. “In any event, why should it matter who did?”

“Because only the few of us directly involved were to have that information, which is why I did not tell you. In troth, I doubt I should say any more about it now. That must be for Rob to decide, but I think you should be with me when I tell him.”

Gratified, she said, “I do want to be there, but why do you say I should be?”

He looked down at her with his mischievous twinkle. “Because I’ll have to confess that I was with you when her ladyship told us. He is less likely to express his feelings to me so vehemently about that if you are there, as well.”

Since she knew that he could not possibly be afraid of Rob if he did not fear Hugo, she realized more quickly than she might have that he sought to protect her, rather than himself, from Rob’s displeasure.

“He won’t like my having learned more about this, will he?”

“This wasn’t your fault, lass, and he won’t eat you. I won’t let him.”

They found Rob in the castle’s cavernous, oak-beamed great hall, and noting his surprise at seeing them walk in together, Giff thought it best to give him no time to express it. It was a near thing, though, for servants were scurrying about, setting up tables for supper, so they had to wend their way through the congestion.

By the time they reached Rob, he was frowning heavily.

“We need to talk privately,” Giff told him. “Yonder by the fire will do.”

The frown grew heavier, but Rob nodded. As soon as they had separated themselves from the general commotion, he said curtly, “What is it?”

Giff knew he need state only the bare fact. “Lady Clendenen just told us the countess means to put off coming to town until Thursday afternoon.”

“Did she now?” Rob said dryly. “She’s gone upstairs, but I’ll send someone to fetch her back down to us in the solar. No one else will be there now, because my lady wife is with our daughter, and I believe Isobel is still asleep.”

“You should know, too, that her ladyship and the lady Sidony mean to ride out to welcome the countess and come back with her procession,” Giff said.

“Adela did mention that,” Rob said. To Sidony, he said, “I forgot that you and her ladyship had formed such an intention, but doubtless someone would have mentioned it today, and I’d have found a way to prevent a pointless journey.”

“I hope you won’t object to our going Thursday,” she said.

“Nay, lass, although I expect Hugo will say I should forbid it in view of your curiously unusual behavior these past few days,” he said.

Giff, knowing he bore some responsibility for her behavior, suppressed a smile at Rob’s tactful phrasing. But the lass raised her chin at both of them and said, “In the past, my sisters have often behaved so. Mayhap I envied their more-enterprising natures and sought to learn how it feels to do as one pleases.”

Giff held his breath, but Rob only shook his head and said, “To think I have always thought you the sensible one. Just have a care, my dear, and do not neglect to take an armed escort. The main road will still be gey busy Thursday.”

“Thank you,” she said. “We won’t forget.”

“I expect you’ll want to go upstairs now to dress for supper,” Rob said.

When she hesitated, Giff knew she was weighing her desire to learn more against Rob’s likely tolerance for defying a clear dismissal. Well aware that Rob had treated their stolen afternoon with undeserved leniency, he felt only relief when she said she would see them at supper, curtsied gracefully, and walked away.

Rob said grimly, “You may come with me now. I have more to say to you.”

Knowing he would not get off so lightly, Giff accompanied him without a murmur but hoped Lady Clendenen would soon obey her summons.

Shutting the solar door, Rob said, “What game is this with Sidony, Giff?”

Giff had been prepared to make the sort of brash response customary for him in such cases. But Rob’s mild tone disarmed him, and in that moment, he realized that Sidony, having flung caution to the winds to ride with him, deserved more from him now than a flippant response.

Meeting Rob’s gaze, he said, “Before you rip up at me, I should mention that one of your lads rode right behind us all afternoon.”

“Even so . . .” Rob paused, remaining silent long enough to make Giff feel the same disturbing sense of guilt the lass could arouse in him.

“. . . I would know your intentions.”

“Sakes, I don’t know that myself,” Giff said. “I’ve said I have no wish to marry yet, which is true, and she has said the same. But I’ll not deny that when the time comes to settle down and produce a family, I may well want her for my wife.”

“How magnanimous of you. How delightfully frank.”

Giff winced. “I did not put that well, but in troth, I’m no better at this than at courtly manners. I like her more than any other woman I’ve met. She is not only gentle and kind but intelligent and never coy. One can enjoy sensible conversation with her. She makes me laugh—and I don’t mean that unkindly,” he added hastily.

Noting the twinkle that had crept into Rob’s eyes, Giff felt deep relief, but he knew he must stay on guard. Mild of manner though Rob might be, he was also one of the finest warriors ever trained at Dunclathy and, thanks to years in the Borders, one of the most experienced. Moreover, Giff wanted to keep him as a good friend.

“Sidony is also an innocent maiden,” Rob said. “So mind your step, lad, for it is not only her good-brothers you will face if you hurt her, but her sisters as well. You may not know it, but in the end, that could prove the worse for you.”

A light rap at the door interrupted them, and when Rob said, “Enter,” the door opened to admit Lady Clendenen. The gillie who accompanied her left at once, pulling the door shut behind him.

“Thank you for coming so quickly, madam,” Rob said, drawing up a back stool for her and another for himself as Giff moved to stand by the hearth. “Pray, tell us how you came to learn that the countess means to delay her journey to town.”

“Mercy, sir, is that why you’ve sent for me? I feared something dreadful had occurred, especially as Sir Giffard is here with you.” She glanced at Giff.

“Forgive me,” Rob said, recalling her attention with a smile. “I did not mean to frighten you, but sithee, I am sure that had Isabella intended to send you such a message, she would have entrusted it to me. She did not, and we concern ourselves with her safety, so we did wonder how you chanced to come by that news.”

“Is it not accurate, then?”

“On the contrary, my lady, it is accurate.”

“Well, I heard it at the Castle, where I dined today with the princess Mary.”

“I see. Was it the princess herself who told you?”

She frowned. “Do you know, I don’t recall who did. There were any number of us—all ladies, you see, and all talking at once, as we do—so talk just flowed. I’m sorry I cannot tell you more, or even hazard a guess as to who may have said what.”

“Thank you, madam,” Rob said. “Do not concern yourself further about this. You have done nowt but aid us, and for that I am most grateful.”

She rose, and Giff went with her to open the door. Smiling up at him as he did, she murmured, “Thank you, sir. I trust you enjoyed your afternoon.”

The conspiratorial manner in which she spoke made him grin as he nodded. Then, shutting the door behind her, he turned back to find Rob smiling.

“So the plan marches, does it?” Giff said.

Rob nodded. “It does. I must let the others know, so it’s as well I’d planned to leave early, for I dare not draw notice by going now, nor can I entrust this message to a gillie. You just make sure that ship of yours is in place by first light Friday and that you can load her and be away quickly. Our success may depend on that.”

“I won’t fail you,” Giff promised.

For all the attention Sidony paid while dressing for Adela’s supper, her maid could have turned her out in rags instead of a becoming pale-yellow sideless surcoat trimmed with bands of colorful embroidery over a gown of mossy green silk.

When the maid had arranged the soft folds of the skirt and linked a silver girdle low on her hips so that it would show through the surcoat’s deep side openings, she handed her mistress a looking glass, then settled a green-and-yellow chaplet carefully over her smooth tresses and bent to buckle her shoes.

As soon as Sidony was ready, she went in search of Ealga. Learning from her that she had been able to tell Rob only that she had heard about Isabella’s intended delay at the Castle, Sidony wondered if Giff might be persuaded to tell her more.

The supper was excellent, as all Adela’s suppers were, but it was also just like all the others of its ilk that Sidony had attended. A din of minstrels’ music and chatter accompanied the meal, and afterward musicians played for dancing. But although she enjoyed the dancing, she saw disappointingly little of Giff.

He wore a blue-velvet doublet with jeweled buttons down the front and matching soled hose, all of which she was sure he had borrowed from Rob, and he deigned to join one ring dance. Otherwise he circulated without lighting anywhere and, most annoyingly, paid her no heed aside from a bow and a smile or two. He left before midnight, and she excused herself shortly afterward to go to bed.

Rob left for Roslin before dawn Wednesday and Giff left as well to make final preparations for his journey, so Sidony and Isobel spent the morning at Lestalric with Adela. They returned to Sinclair House late that afternoon and retired much earlier than they had the previous night.

Thursday morning arrived with a brisk wind whistling around the house, and as Sidony donned her riding dress hours later, she saw clouds flying high and low through a gray sky. But the sun peeped through as she and Isobel ate their midday meal, an hour earlier than usual, and despite the wind, the air outside was clear and brisk when she joined Lady Clendenen and their escort of six men-at-arms.

Sidony knew the ride might grow tedious, thanks to Ealga’s preference for the boxy lady’s saddle that many noblewomen had begun using. Although well lined and padded with sheepskin, it forced her to sit sideways and rocked precipitously with the movements of her horse. It was no wonder, Sidony thought as she rode beside her through town, that her ladyship did not enjoy riding. That she would endure it to meet Isabella only proved how highly she esteemed the countess.

Giff had spent much of Wednesday seeing everything ready for Friday’s departure. He had found the Zee Handelaar tied to the shorter of Leith’s two wharves, its crew efficiently loading provisions. The Dutch captain was not with them at the time, so when he returned in the afternoon, Giff asked him where he had been.

The Dutchman said, “When you travel, mynheer , do you not enjoy to see something of places you visit?” When Giff agreed that he did, the other spoke enthusiastically about Edinburgh, then said earnestly, “My men are reliable, mynheer . Also, I have the accounts for your provisions if you would care to see them now.”

Finding them satisfactory and having funds that Rob had given him for the purpose, Giff nodded, saying, “I’ll pay you half of this amount now, as we agreed, and the rest when we have loaded our cargo Friday morning, before we sail.”

The man hesitated, so Giff said, “Recall that I shall also pay you half what we agreed for you and your crew then, too, the rest when we reach our destination.”

Although neither captain nor crew would go north, Giff had bargained in good faith, knowing the Sinclairs and Rob would honor all promises he made for hiring the ship. Its men would share a generous sum for doing little, so he was sure they would see it as an excellent bargain unless, of course, he and the others failed to persuade the Dutchman, when they put their own men on as crew, that they were not stealing his ship. Certainly, the man was confident enough, because he shook hands warmly before they parted and he returned the Zee Handelaar to its mooring.

Giff returned then to Lestalric, took fond and formal leave of his hostess after supper, and arose early Thursday morning to carry his own gear to the ship. He intended to sleep aboard to be certain that all remained in order until they sailed.

The wind blew, chilling the air and warning of heavier weather to come.

Passing through the tiny, bustling village of North Leith, he emerged onto the shore of the harbor, seeing only then that the Dutch ship had gone.

The ride to meet Isabella was proving longer than either Sidony or Ealga had anticipated, for they had reached the turn onto the track along the river North Esk without seeing any sign of the countess’s cavalcade.

“She must have started out much later than we’d expected,” Sidony said.

“Aye, well, mayhap sheep and wool carts still obstruct even this track, but I expect we’ll find her soon now. This wind is becoming a nuisance, though.”

Sidony agreed, and they rode on for another half hour before she noted with a worried glance that her companion was flagging. “Are you unwell, madam?”

“I do wish you and your sisters would just call me Ealga,” her ladyship said querulously. “By law, I shall be your mother in less than a month.”

“I think you must be very tired,” Sidony said. “It cannot be comfortable or easy to ride in a way that makes you fear being flung to the ground at any moment.”

“No, it isn’t,” her ladyship agreed. “But I owe a duty to Isabella, and one does not shirk one’s duty. I just wish we knew how much longer she will be.”

“If you will consent to rest here for a time, out of the wind, I can ride on until I catch sight of them. The track is dry and my pony nimble, so it should not take me long to find them and ride back to tell you where they are.”

Lady Clendenen agreed with obvious relief. “But you must not go without taking at least two of our men with you, my dear.”

Since they had six in their escort, Sidony laughed. “They may come if they can keep up, but should I not see you made comfortable first?”

“Mercy, no, just go. The other men will look after me, and the sooner you find Isabella, the sooner I shall be comfortably at home again.”

Needing no further encouragement, Sidony urged her mount forward and gave it a touch of heel, exhilarating in the faster pace. Moments later, she looked over her shoulder to see two of their escort riding after her.

Chuckling, she urged her mount to a faster pace. The men would not scold her, and unless she ran right into Isabella or Hugo, no one else would, either.

The track had been steep as it led to higher ground from Edinburgh’s alluvial plain, but it eased now to a gentler incline through shady woodland that did not tax her mount in the least. When the woods thinned, she knew the path would soon run nearer the cliff edge at the deepest part of the gorge, so she slowed a bit.

Soon she could see the turbulent river below, and in the distance, the tall, square tower of Hawthornden thrusting through thick-growing trees. The castle was still some distance away, because the gorge did not run straight. The track would soon head into the woods again to avoid having to follow each bend in the river.

Abruptly, she had a long view of the west bank deep in the gorge and saw riders on the path there with banners waving that she recognized as the Sinclairs’. She recognized the slender countess astride her white mare among the leaders.

Having traveled with Isabella’s cavalcade the previous year, Sidony knew they had followed the track she was on now. The one down in the gorge was narrow and not frequently traveled. Nor was it suitable for the carts and wagons that usually carried Isabella’s astonishing amount of baggage.

Although Sidony felt a little annoyed at what was clearly a change in route, she knew she could not blame Giff or Rob for not telling her. Neither man could have expected that she and Ealga would have to ride so far to meet Isabella.

Noting a single oxcart piled high with canvas-covered contents following the riders, and deducing that it doubtless accounted for their snail’s pace, she saw no other baggage vehicle, only laden sumpter ponies in a string.

Knowing that she and Ealga could easily return to where the main road crossed the river in time to meet the others, she wondered if Ealga would want to wait for them. On the winding, narrow path, Isabella could well be another hour.

“Mistress!” shouted one of the men who had been following her, as she turned to head back. “There be riders yonder!”

He was pointing, and she realized with shock that he did not mean Isabella’s party. North of them on the river track, a larger group of riders approached a curve in the river that would soon bring them into view of the riders from Roslin.

Sidony was nearly certain the banner the newcomers flew was a royal one.

“Sakes, we must warn them!” she exclaimed. But the cliff was a hundred feet higher than the river path, and she knew they could not hear her shouts above the echoing roar of the water as it tumbled headlong through the gorge.

No one looked up at them, nor could she imagine how to warn them of the danger ahead even if someone did. Only then did it occur to her that no Roslin guards had intercepted her on the way. That Hugo might have called them all off with Isabella on the move made no sense.

A tickle of fear slid up her spine, and when her brain refused to provide a solution, she shifted her gaze to her two men-at-arms, only to see that both were waiting for her to decide what to do.

Gritting her teeth, she told herself it was exactly the sort of hobble that Rob would call a “bubbly-jock” and just what she had meant in telling Giff she could not make decisions. Sorcha, Adela, or Isobel would know what to do. Why didn’t she ?

Then, suddenly, it came to her that the only route possible for Isabella’s usual baggage train was the ridge track, and she said crisply, “You two, we’re going on. The baggage carts must lie ahead of us, and they will have men-at-arms with them. Their captain will know what to do, but we must hurry!”

Urging her mount to its fastest pace, she fairly flew into the woods, only to round a curve and meet horsemen so abruptly that her mount reared. As she fought to stay in the saddle, the men closed in quickly around her.

The two lads with her did not reach for their swords, nor did she blame them. They were far outnumbered, and the others wore all black and carried the same royal banner as the riders down in the gorge.

To her astonishment, despite their black clothing, their leader was not the Earl of Fife but the Chevalier de Gredin. His jade-green eyes gleamed as he flashed the smile that she and her sisters had once thought charming.

“My lady, how pleasant to meet you here.” Without pause, he flung orders over his shoulder: “Four of you, with me. Two others, ride on and tell his lordship I’ve means now to force his enemies to tell him what he wants to know if his search proves unproductive. Tell him I will keep it safe for him. You others, go back and slow those carts until the wench and I are well away. Search them again if you must.”

“What are you doing?” Sidony demanded. “I’m going nowhere with you!”

“ Mais bien s?r , ma chère , you will,” he said. “Further, you will go quietly, or I’ll order your men killed right here. Then I shall tie your hands behind your back and lead your horse myself. Decide quickly which course you prefer.”

With the Dutch ship gone from its mooring, Giff had hoped briefly to find her tied again at one of the wharves. But a single question at the first wharf elicited the information that before dawn that morning, its captain had taken on a load of wool from the abbeys and sailed for Bruges with the outgoing tide.

Recalling that the Dutchman had sailed with half of his provisions paid for, Giff winced, recalling the man’s hesitation to take the money and seeing it in new light. Recalling then the two louts that had attacked him on Sunday, and Sidony’s suggestion that they might be Fife’s men, it occurred to him that he might glean some useful information if they were still residents of the Tollgate.

Remounting, he rode back into town.

The wiry, middle-aged baillie at the Tollgate remembered them. “Aye, sure, sir,” he said. “But a man did come late Monday night to fetch them away.”

Learning that the man wore black was not proof, but Giff was as certain as he could be that Fife, having discovered that the Dutch ship figured in the reel he danced with the Sinclairs, had persuaded the Dutch captain to take a load of wool and go. The plain fact, Giff decided, was that he could waste time railing that the ship was gone and scramble his brains trying to create a message that would tell the others what had happened without giving information to the messenger or anyone who intercepted him—or he could find another ship.

Any number of them still rode at anchor in the harbor, so he got to it at once. Leaving his horse in the harbor stable, he visited ship after ship only to discover that most captains still in port had either already loaded and were awaiting the next tide, or intended to load that day or the next with cargo for which they had contracted.

He even tried the two French longboats, still moored in the harbor. Both captains seemed willing enough at first but asked more questions about his destination and cargo than Giff wanted to answer, with the predictable result that each declined his offer after wasting a good deal of his time.

Near day’s end, he remembered how friendly Captain Maxwell had been. Although undeniably Fife’s man, Maxwell had struck him as a seaman first. He would know most of the ships and might be willing to suggest one Giff could hire.

Accordingly, knowing he’d be wise to take along something to ease his welcome in case Fife had warned Maxwell against him, he purchased three hot meat rolls and collected from the stable the satchel containing his gear and a jug of heady Isles brogac to take with him. Then he looked for the Serpent’ s towboat and found it beached in the same place it had been on Sunday, with its oarsmen nearby.

The harbor water was choppier than Sunday, and the wind blew spray at them as the men rowed him to the ship. When they reached it, Giff slung his satchel over a shoulder and went nimbly up the rope ladder and aboard.

Sidony had expected the Chevalier de Gredin to deliver her to Fife. He had been Fife’s man when she and others in her family had met him, and despite certain actions of his that suggested opposition to Fife, and a year spent in the north with Henry, she knew that Adela and Rob believed—and doubtless so would Henry—that de Gredin was still as much Fife’s man as any of Fife’s men-at-arms. And now, here he was proving it by riding under a royal banner and threatening her.

The thought of being handed over to the earl as a prize of war was terrifying enough, especially as de Gredin had said cheerfully that he expected Fife to enjoy questioning her. He had even suggested horrible means that the earl might use, until she shut her ears to him and thought hard about Giff MacLennan instead. If anyone could come up with horrid things to do to Fife and de Gredin, Giff surely could.

Instead of heading back to Edinburgh as she had expected, de Gredin—leading her horse despite what he had said earlier—had abruptly turned off the track and headed over the ridge and down the other side. In time, they came to a cottage, where he dismounted and lifted her from her saddle.

“Two of you, fetch the cart and see to the horses,” he said. “I won’t be long.”

Gripping her arm, he took her inside the empty cottage, where he allowed her to relieve herself in a night pail in a curtained alcove before mixing her a mug of something horrid that he made her drink. She began to grow sleepy, and although she fought it, blackness soon enveloped her.

She awoke, moaning. It was pitch dark, she could hardly breathe, and her head ached so badly that she could not think. She lay on a hard, bouncing surface and heard the rattle of wheels beneath her. Then blackness descended again.

The next time, she awoke to hear neighing and a jangle of harness. Then came a screeching sound and enough dim light to see that she was inside a crate in an open building, a stable perhaps. Someone had pried off the crate’s lid. Gulping fresh air, she tried to sit up and realized her hands were behind her, tightly bound.

“Not a word,” de Gredin hissed, helping her. “Drink this quickly,” he added, putting a cup to her lips and gripping her jaw, tilting the cup’s contents down her throat so quickly that she swallowed, choking, sure she would be sick.

Salty air and a glimpse of harbor outside the wide-open doors told her where they were. Hearing male voices approaching, she opened her mouth to scream, saw his fist coming, and knew no more.