Chapter 16

Sorcha had not closed her bed curtains, so waking to gray light, despite feeling refreshed by a deep, dreamless sleep, she decided it must be nearing sunrise. Getting out of bed, she wrapped her cloak around her to ward off the room's icy chill, then went to the window and looked outside.

A thick Scottish mist cast a desolate pall over everything, including the river. The time might have been any hour between dawn and dusk.

Finding a dark-green kirtle and a striped rose-pink-and-white silk surcoat folded neatly on a stool, she realized that Kenna must have come in and decided not to wake her. Pleased that she had managed to bathe and wash her hair before retiring the night before, she poured cold water from the ewer into the basin on its stand and washed her face and hands. Then, discovering that the kirtle laced up the front, she quickly dressed herself and went to waken Sidony.

Finding her sister's room empty, she went downstairs, where she found Sidony at the high table with the countess, Sir Edward, and Hugo. Only then did she realize that it must be later than she had thought.

Stepping onto the dais, she bade them all a good morning.

" 'Tis a gey dreary one, but come sit by me," Sidony said cheerfully as the countess nodded and the men stood politely and echoed Sorcha's greeting. "I was just about to go up and pull you out of bed."

"You and Kenna should not have let me sleep so long," Sorcha said.

"They knew you needed sleep, my dear," the countess said. "Moreover, Roslin has its own chapel and my chaplain to say Mass this morning. As we can therefore linger whilst you break your fast, sit now and tell Ivor what you would like."

"Thank you, madam," Sorcha said, doing so at once and agreeing with the gillie that a loaf, a boiled egg, and a small grilled trout would suit her well. He produced the trout and loaf from a hob near the fireplace, where he had kept them warm, then moved a jam pot that sat near Hugo closer to her.

Sidony had fallen silent, as usual, and the others returned to their discussion, apparently continuing from where they had stopped at Sorcha's entrance.

When Hugo mentioned the King, she inferred that they were discussing their likely activities for the next day or so. Having small interest except insofar as they might pertain to Adela or herself, she listened with only half an ear as she contentedly applied herself to her breakfast.

Not until Sir Edward mentioned Macleod did she take particular notice of what they were saying.

Glancing at Hugo, her gaze locked with his as he said, "I expect he will come here, sir. Whether he will ride with Michael or wait until after he attends the royal court I cannot say. But he will know shortly, if he does not already, that three of his daughters are here at Roslin and that we have knowledge of Adela. He would be a most unusual father if he did not want to see all of them."

"There is his grandson to meet, too, don't forget," the countess said.

"Aye," Hugo said, grinning. "I'm not likely to forget the bairn."

"Nor am I likely to forget how he came into this world," Isabella said with tightening lips and a frown. "I said last night that I would send for Waldron, and so I shall this very day. I know you do not believe he will come, Hugo, but I want to ask him just what he hoped to accomplish by abducting Adela and our Isobel."

Sorcha saw Hugo exchange a glance with Sir Edward. She thought he was silently asking a question, but if that was the case, Sir Edward gave no sign of replying before shifting his gaze back to Isabella.

"Furthermore," she went on, "if Macleod of Glenelg should express a desire to lodge a grievance against him, I mean to allow it. Indeed, I don't doubt that Henry will agree to hold court right here, since he intends to stay for several weeks before he returns to Caithness and Orkney for the summer. I should think Isobel's involvement means that he and I share equal jurisdiction over this matter."

Hugo's jaw tightened, and again he glanced at his father.

But Sir Edward's gaze remained fixed on the countess.

Isabella said, "What is it, Hugo? If you have something to say, please say it."

"Forgive me, madam," he said, flushing. "I do have information that I would like to impart to you, but I should do so more privately."

Sir Edward did look at him then but still said nothing.

Sorcha decided that she and Sidony might as well not have existed for all the heed the others paid them, and her curiosity burned fiercely.

Isabella stood, smoothing her skirt as she said, "I would not have my chaplain think us heathens, so we will proceed to the chapel now. Afterward, Hugo, you may join me in the solar and say what you will. I cannot imagine what you think may sway me from my course, but I will listen to you. Are you ready, my dears?" she added, speaking to Sorcha and Sidony for the first time since Sorcha had joined them.

Ivor appeared at Sorcha's side with a damp cloth and fingerbowl, so she quickly washed her hands and rose to follow the others.

Sidony fell into step beside her, saying quietly, "One cannot help but wonder what that was all about. I do not like secrets, do you?"

Sorcha nearly said something rude but satisfied herself with a firm, "No."

"Secrets make me feel uncomfortable," her sister confided.

It was not the first time that Sorcha had wished she could share her thoughts more freely with Sidony, but it was too easy to distress her younger sister. She was certain that, even now, Sidony had little notion of what dangers Adela faced.

In fairness, Sorcha told herself as they hurried along in the countess's wake, she had not truly comprehended Adela's situation herself until Waldron's men had captured Rory MacIver and beaten him. She had at least understood then why Hugo had been so angry with her when he'd first caught up with them.

She occupied the next few minutes wondering what secrets he meant to share with the countess, and how she herself might possibly discover them.

To her surprise, when they reached the little chapel and she moved to follow Isabella inside, Hugo gently stopped her and gestured for Sidony to go ahead. Then, nodding to Sorcha to precede him, he followed her in.

A number of the servants had taken places on the left, leaving a narrow central aisle, and to the right of it, Sorcha saw that low padded, needlework-covered kneeling stools were already in place for each of the family. A definite benefit to having one's own chapel was that one need not carry one's own stool in each time.

Sir Edward stepped around the countess to take his place beside her, with Sidony on her other side. Hugo and Sorcha knelt behind them, and as soon as the countess had had time to offer a private prayer, her chaplain began to say the Mass.

Sorcha's mind tended to wander at such times, and with Hugo beside her, she could not seem to think of anything but how close he was and how pleasant his deep voice was as he gave the responses and murmured the prayers.

Moments later, her thoughts shifted abruptly to Waldron, and she wondered if Isabella knew that Isobel had pushed the horrid man off the ramparts the previous summer, or that Waldron harbored a desire for vengeance against everyone involved in that incident.

Lost in thought, she murmured her responses automatically, and before she knew so much time had passed, the chaplain invited them to partake of communion. Shortly afterward, he said the benediction and everyone stood again to depart.

Hugo stepped back to let her precede him from the chapel. As she moved past him, she glanced up and saw a twinkle in his eyes.

Tempted for no reason that she could fathom to grin at him, she resisted the impulse as sacrilegious and looked quickly away. Outside, though, as everyone strolled back to the keep, she fell back a bit with him and looked up at him again.

"Pray, sir, what was so amusing back there?"

He chuckled. "I was just wondering how many prayers you had offered. You looked as if you were plotting more sins rather than begging forgiveness for those you've already committed."

She grinned impishly at him. "Since the good Lord sees into my mind and into my heart, sir, He knows how contrite I am."

"And when you are not contrite at all. Don't forget that, Skelpie."

Thankful that he could not see into her mind and heart, and not wanting to quarrel with him—at least, not until she learned what he and the countess would decide to do about Adela—she changed the subject.

They chatted amiably until he excused himself to accompany Isabella to the ladies' solar and Sorcha went with Sidony to visit their wee nephew and Isobel.

"Very well, Hugo," his aunt said as they entered the comfortable new solar from the dais in the great hall. "Say what you will to me."

He moved to shut the door first, but pressure from the other side stopped it as his father followed them inside.

Isabella arched her eyebrows. "You, too, Edward?"

"Aye, madam," he said easily. "I hope you will not forbid it."

Hugo looked from one to the other and felt energy between them that he had not noted before. His aunt had stiffened, but as her gaze met his father's and Sir Edward said nothing more, her tension eased.

"Very well," she said. "But if the pair of you expect to form a league against me, you will find that it will not serve. What Waldron has done is most serious."

"I agree," Sir Edward said. "Will you not take a seat, madam?"

"Aye, but the two of you must do likewise," she said. "I won't have Hugo looming over me like a Colossus whilst he tries to persuade me that I ought not to confront Waldron. That is what you mean to do, is it not, sir?"

"Perhaps," he admitted, taking a pair of stools from near one of two narrow, arched windows overlooking the courtyard and moving them nearer her chair. His father sat on one and Hugo took the other, saying, "You recall that in our discussion last night, you mentioned the incident here last summer."

"Of course I remember," she replied testily. "I am not senile, Hugo. Had I not believed that Waldron must have died when he fell from the ramparts, I should have called him to account for his actions straightaway."

"He believes those actions and his recent ones were righteous, aunt."

"Nonsense, how could he?"

"You asked few questions about that at the time."

"Aye, well, I had learned to ask little about men's affairs except when they affected Strathearn or Caithness," she said. "Your uncle was rarely forthcoming about anything having to do with Sinclair affairs. And, during the time that Sir Edward acted as Henry's guardian, he also generally neglected to discuss matters of Sinclair business with me."

She shot Sir Edward a look of irritation, if not resentment, that Hugo realized was similar to one he had several times seen on Sorcha's face. Clearly, tension existed between his father and the countess that he had failed to recognize, and it occurred to him that a countess in her own right might well resent being denied guardianship of her heir. For as much as Henry was heir to Roslin and other Sinclair holdings, so was he heir to the even more valuable lands of Strathearn and Caithness. Moreover, his Orkney princedom had come to him because of his mother's kinship with the Norse King. Despite those details, Sir William Sinclair had awarded guardianship of his sons to his friend and fellow knight, Sir Edward Robison. And doubtless he had done so without explaining his reasons to their mother.

These thoughts flashed through Hugo's mind as he said, "So you do not know what Waldron sought here at Roslin."

"I did not know he sought anything. I know only that you and Michael were quite oppressively secretive about the whole business. Then Henry, when he came here shortly afterward, behaved in a similar manner. Something excited him at the time, though. I do remember that. Do you mean to tell me what it was?"

Hugo glanced at Sir Edward, whose lips tightened slightly.

The look was sufficient to strengthen Hugo's instinctive reaction. "That is Henry's tale to tell, madam. I do sincerely believe that if you ask him, he will tell you, but the matter is delicate. I dare not reveal it without first having his leave."

"I see."

"Pray believe that I do not mean to offend you, Aunt Isabella," Hugo said. "I have faith in your discretion, and I know Henry does, too. That we have not shared it with you before is due to our concern for your safety, and that of many others."

Isabella looked thoughtfully at him before she said, "I will do you the courtesy of believing that you mean what you say, Hugo, as you have always been truthful to me. But surely you do not mean to say that honor precludes your telling me why I should not demand that Waldron account to me for his sins."

"I won't say that," Hugo said. "Indeed, I would not presume to tell you what to do or not to do, because I do not have that right. But I would like to know how soon you'd expect him to come here."

"Why, straightaway, of course, although as I have not yet sent the summons, I expect he will choose to come tomorrow."

"Michael will arrive tonight," Hugo reminded her. "The rest of his grace's cavalcade will be in Edinburgh tomorrow by midday. Did you not mean to attend the King's court with us all on Tuesday?"

"I should go, I expect. But the court will remain in Edinburgh for some time. As Isobel and my new grandson are here now, I have decided to stay with them."

"And if Waldron does not come here tomorrow? What then?"

Now it was she who looked at Sir Edward—ruefully—and the expression with which he met that look was another with which Hugo was familiar.

It was the same stern look that his father was apt to acquire whenever he learned of something that Hugo had hoped to accomplish without his knowledge.

Thus, he easily deciphered the unspoken exchange between them and said with a sigh to his aunt, "You would ride over to Edgelaw to confront him."

"Indeed, she would," Sir Edward said.

Stiffening indignantly, Isabella said, "Waldron has sworn fealty to me as his liege. He would not dare to harm me."

Sir Edward continued to regard her solemnly, but Hugo said, "He does not count cost when he believes he is right, madam. He has also sworn fealty to Henry and to the King of Scots, yet he not only invaded Henry's home here at Roslin last summer but abducted two wholly innocent subjects of the King's a sennight ago. Waldron believes that God will forgive him anything he does in His service, and you may be sure that in this matter he believes he serves both the Almighty and the Roman Kirk."

"Mercy, I had no idea. In what manner does he serve them?"

"I can tell you only that he believes the Sinclairs took something long ago that belongs to the Kirk. That belief is false, of course, but I cannot explain more about that now. Still, I do want you to understand that you cannot depend on Waldron to behave in a chivalrous manner, even toward you."

"Then you do not want me to send for him."

"On the contrary," Hugo said, allowing himself a wry smile, knowing that what he wanted was immaterial unless he could persuade her. "I would like you to send for him, because his reaction will reveal something about his situation and how many men he has left to serve him. He still holds the lady Adela, after all, and her sisters maintain, despite evidence to the contrary, that she stays with him against her will. I mean to set extra guards on the ramparts here, and throughout the glen, after you send your message. But I do ask for your promise that you'll not leave the castle until we return from Edinburgh and can confer about what to do next."

She was silent for some time. Then she said, "You seem certain he will not come. What if he does?"

"If he comes tomorrow morning, we will be here to meet him. If he does not, my men will have orders to stop him before he ever reaches Roslin."

"If he comes alone, I want them to let him through."

Hugo hesitated. He could not be sure Waldron would not agree to come alone if he thought it was the only way he could gain access to Isabella. And although they could pack the castle with men and weapons, they could not thereby guarantee her safety or that of Isobel and her baby if Waldron, alone or not, were inside its walls.

The last thought decided it, and he said, "Even if I were to agree to that, madam, you know that Michael will not, because even alone, Waldron is too dangerous. He seeks vengeance against all of us for his mishap last summer. And if he should manage to get to Isobel or to the bairn…"

When he stopped to let the rest speak for itself, she nodded and said, "You are right, and I am a fool not to have considered their safety. Waldron has ever sought revenge for perceived slights against himself, and what Isobel did to him goes far beyond that, especially if he believes his own actions were justified." Pausing briefly to reflect, she said, "Very well, Hugo, I accept your judgment."

Profoundly relieved, he thanked her.

After a quarter hour of exchanging news and amenities with Isobel, when Sidony picked up the baby and retired to cuddle him quietly on the deep, pillowed bench in the window embrasure, Sorcha leaned closer to her older sister and said quietly, "I am glad you feel rested. I have something I want to ask you."

Isobel smiled. "About Waldron?"

"Aye, because any number of secrets seem to be associated with him. At least, Hugo resists discussing him despite his holding Adela."

"You should not call him Hugo, dearling."

"Sakes, we delivered your bairn together! I don't stand on any ceremony with the man. Nor do you!"

"Only when no others are about," Isobel pointed out. "He is Michael's best friend, and he has come to mean as much to me as one imagines a brother should."

"Well, I don't want him for my brother," Sorcha said roundly. "He is too quick to scold and to issue commands to people over whom he has no authority."

"None? Did you not rather thrust yourselves upon him?"

"Rather it was he who thrust himself upon us," Sorcha said. "We were doing very well by ourselves. We had nearly caught up with Adela and her abductors when he came upon us. But from that moment, he took it upon himself—"

Noting her older sister's amusement, she broke off, then said with dignity, "But you will not want to be hearing about all that. And I am more interested in what Waldron wants. What pressed him to abduct Adela in the first place?"

"I have already told you that I've given my promise," Isobel said. "You cannot expect me to tell you if Hugo will not. What exactly did he say, anyway?"

"Only that Waldron believes they took something belonging to the Holy Kirk. Won't you even tell me why he thinks they took it?"

"Sakes, Sorcha, you have passed a sennight in Hugo's company. Does he strike you as a man who would steal from the Kirk? Does Michael?"

"I scarcely know Michael, and I do not know Prince Henry at all."

When Isobel's eyes flashed with anger, Sorcha added hastily, "I am sure that Sir Michael is all that is honorable, for I know you love him. But how can you know that Prince Henry had naught to do with such a misdeed?"

"But I do know that, and so would you after ten minutes in Henry's company. Moreover, it all happened long before any of them were born."

"Then you do know about it! Oh, Isobel, pray tell me. I swear it will go no farther," she added, lowering her voice and casting a look toward the window embrasure where Sidony remained reassuringly attentive to their nephew.

But Isobel was shaking her head. "I can tell you nothing more," she said firmly. "Indeed, I ought not to have said that much."

"But why should you know if I cannot?"

"Because I'm married to Michael. He and Ian Dubh, Hector Reaganach's father by marriage, told me everything the night before my wedding. I had already learned certain things due to my insatiable curiosity, you see, and they feared that it might lead me into danger if they did not persuade me to take greater care."

"But I am curious, too," Sorcha said. "Moreover, if I must outwit Waldron to rescue Adela, it would help to know exactly what he believes."

"A very sound argument," Isobel said, adding sweetly, "Try it on Hugo."

Emitting a near growl of exasperation, Sorcha rolled her eyes.

"Or mayhap you should marry him," Isobel suggested. "I warrant he may tell you then, if only in hopes of keeping you from flinging yourself into the suds again."

"Marry him! Don't be such a noddy. Not only must he marry Adela to restore her reputation, but he would not suit me at all as a husband. Indeed, Isobel, I am surprised you would suggest it. Did you not often say you would never marry, because all men are too quick to scold and command?"

"I was wrong," Isobel said with a softer smile. "Michael is not like that."

"Mercy, why ever not?"

"I think 'tis because Isabella is a countess in her own right," Isobel said. "And if a lad does not see his father giving his mother orders at every turn, perhaps he grows up to be different from other men. Can you imagine any man commanding Isabella? Henry will inherit Strathearn and Caithness, but she rules both regions now."

Sorcha frowned. "Hugo means to tell her she must not send for Waldron."

"To come here? Sakes, why would she do that?"

"Because he has committed dreadful crimes, Isobel. It cannot be lawful to go about abducting young women."

"I'm sure it is not, but since I'd thought him dead until I saw him with my own eyes, I did not consider any consequences he might face. I doubt he'll come here simply because she summons him, though. In any event, Michael will be here tonight or early tomorrow morning. I warrant he will side with Hugo."

"But if Countess Isabella always goes her own road…"

The baby began to cry, and Sidony said, "I think he's hungry again, Isobel."

"Then bring him to me, dearling, and I'll tend him. Perhaps, then, you could send someone to fetch his nurse."

"How often does he suckle?" Sorcha asked curiously.

"Every two hours," Isobel replied with a laugh. "I warrant he is trying to see how quickly he can grow to be as big as his father."

Watching her take the baby into her arms, Sorcha found herself idly wondering what Hugo's sons would be like.

Realizing with a jolt just where her thoughts had taken her, she told Sidony abruptly that they should leave mother and child to enjoy each other's company and find someone to fetch the nurse.

Adela, having wakened to the same gray morning, had neither kirk nor child to occupy her time. She had much enjoyed her bath the previous night, however. Afterward, to her relief, his lordship had given her a thick wool robe and had taken her to a larger chamber than the gate-tower room. Nevertheless, when he left her, she heard a key turn in the lock again and knew she was as much his prisoner as ever, and more vulnerable than ever without her dress.

She had no needlework or other means of occupying herself, and for several hours after she awoke, she feared she would have nothing to eat. Bored, hungry, and inexplicably sleepy, considering that she had done nothing to weary herself, she lay down on the chamber's narrow cot again and dozed.

When the key rattled in the lock again, she wakened, sat up, and swept hair out of her eyes, expecting to see Waldron. But the door opened to reveal two strange men, one with a wooden tray, the other clearly having unlocked the door for him. The man with the tray entered silently and set it on a stool near the bed. Then the two left and locked her in again.

The tray contained an apple, a mug of ale, and some bread. She picked up the apple and ate it slowly. Fearing they might bring her nothing else, she saved the bread and lay down again, falling quickly asleep.

When she awoke again to the sound of the key, she assumed the same two had returned, and did not sit up. But although there were two, the one who entered with the tray was Waldron. He shut the door and set the tray on the stool.

"What hour is it?" she asked sleepily as she sat up, rubbing her eyes and pulling the robe closer around her.

He shrugged. "Nearly Vespers, I expect. I brought your dress and some good sliced beef," he added brusquely.

"I'm not very hungry."

"Well, you should be, so eat something. I want to talk to you."

A shiver of fear darted through her until she recalled that he had said he needed her to do something for him.

Relaxing slightly, she broke off a small piece of bread and nibbled it.

"I've received a summons from Isabella of Strathearn," he said.

"She is my sister Isobel's mother by marriage," she said, trying to decide if she ought to eat some beef.

"She has demanded my presence at Roslin," he said. "Are you sick?"

"Nay, just tired," she said. "I cannot think why I should be. I've scarcely stirred a step today."

A look flitted across his face that in any other man she might have mistaken for concern, but he said only, "Well, pay attention. I'm no dog to run to Isabella's whistling, or any woman's, come to that."

"Do you want to make her angry?"

"I don't care if I do. Everyone at Roslin did mean to attend the King's court in Edinburgh on Tuesday, but if I know Isabella, she may come here to confront me instead if I ignore her summons. If she does, I'll have another hostage, but in case she doesn't, I want you to send a message to Roslin."

"Me? What could I have to say to Countess Isabella or she to me?"

"Don't be foolish. Your message is for your sister Sorcha, of course, but I want no one else to know what you say. I'm told all the Macleod sisters can read and write."

"Aye, sir. My aunt Euphemia taught us until she moved to Lochbuie. Then, I taught my younger sisters. Father gives me calves' vellum to record recipes for things he likes to eat, and for ointments, scents, and such that we make at Chalamine. That way, we do not have to remember them all."

"You won't have to write on vellum," he said. "I have something smoother."

"But what am I to say?"

"I'm going to send you to Roslin," he said casually. "I want you to bid Lady Sorcha to come and fetch you."

Stunned, Adela stared at him. She did not believe for a moment that he meant to release her, let alone allow her to go to Roslin. He just wanted to use her to bait another of his traps. But if she refused to do as he bade her, he would kill her.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'll tell you exactly what to say. I could even write it for you if you like."

"I must write it," Adela said, collecting her wits with effort. "Sorcha knows my hand. But you may have to tell me how to spell some of the words."

He nodded, his satisfaction a relief to see.

It occurred to her after he had gone, as she was changing back into her somewhat cleaner blue dress, that he might simply intend to kill her later and replace her with Sorcha. But she pushed that unbearable notion right out of her head.