Chapter 14

After brief reflection on the delights their coupling had provided, and on all he had just said, Mairi murmured, "Still, I expect we should not have done it."

"Mayhap we should not," Rob agreed. "But I could not seem to stop myself. Nor do I wish it undone. We must marry, of course. I'll see to arranging it at once."

"Nay, then, we cannot," Mairi said firmly, determined not to let him see that the idea did appeal to her. The fact that it strongly appealed astonished her. But she could imagine how others would feel about it—especially her father… and Phaeline.

"Lass, we must not fratch over this. 'Tis too important. What we've done—"

"What we have done, we did together," she said. "There can be no dispute over that. But we cannot marry, sir. I am still underage, and my father would never permit it. Nor could I disappoint him by marrying without his consent into a clan that he deems an enemy. He would view it as the basest of betrayals, I promise you. In troth, I believe it would kill him for any daughter of his to betray him so."

"But your own reputation," he protested. "You must consider that, Mairi lass. People will believe the worst of you if they learn what has happened here."

"People believe what they believe," she said. "Sakes, but my having been with you here for as long as I have ensures that those inclined to believe the worst will believe it now in any event. I would not have them say instead that you forced me to marry you. And they would! You must know that they would."

"We would deny it. By my troth, I would not force you even if I thought I could. Which," he added dryly, "I do not."

"Well, you could, of course, simply by overpowering me, for you are gey strong," she said. "But otherwise, you could not. Sithee, I have learned much about marriage law from my cousin Jenny, enough to know that no one can legally force a Scotswoman to marry if she does not want to. I know my rights regarding marriage settlements, my father's barony, and other such things, too."

"I'll remember that and take care not to cheat you."

"You would never cheat me," she said. "I do know that much about you. But it does not matter. There can be no marriage between us—now or ever."

"We'll see about that," he said. "I will not have people saying wicked things about you. So that is all there is to—"

"My family has grown accustomed to my lack of suitors," she interjected. "They already fear that I'll never wed, so I have only to let them go on thinking that. They will tell others so, and so sincerely that those others will believe it, too."

"Aye, they will believe it," he said grimly. "Because, whatever anyone may have thought was the reason before I abducted you, they will now believe that you remain unwed because I took advantage and then refused to marry you. We must marry, lass, if only so others can know of our feelings for each other and—"

"Enough, sir. You begin to make me believe you would marry me only out of pity or a hope that you might then avoid being called a rapist. Why should anyone believe aught but that you married me because you had taken advantage—mayhap in hope that you could thereby gain control of the Dunwythie estates?"

"You don't believe that."

"I don't. But many others would."

"Aye, perhaps, but what if I have given you a child?" he demanded.

"Then mayhap we'll talk again," she replied, refusing to let something that might or might not be the case sway her from seeing the certainties. "There may come a time when I will marry," she said. "But if I inherit the estates, my husband may not care about what happened here. Meantime, sir, I must think about my father and my own duty. To marry you and live at Trailinghail would be a further betrayal of him as long as I remain heiress to his estates and responsibilities."

Rob was silent.

He understood familial duty only too well. How the devil could he insist that she ignore such duty when he had abducted her in its service?

The annoying voice that too frequently piped up from the back of his mind suggested then that duty was not all that had spurred him to that injudicious feat.

He hushed the voice. He was sure he would never have thought of abducting Mairi Dunwythie had his grandmother and Alex not both insisted in their own ways that he owed absolute duty to his clan and to his family, and had each not done so, so soon after he had laid eyes on her.

Although he could not deny that he had wanted her then, or that her beauty and her casual dismissal of him had stirred a primal urge to conquer her, duty had certainly spurred him to consider planning her abduction.

When she'd presented herself to him, so near the galley, during his exploratory visit to Annan House, his nemesis, impulse, had seized hold and forced his hand.

"You are smiling again," she said, visibly irked. "This is serious."

"Aye, lass, I ken fine that it is," he said. "I was just thinking back. Sithee, when I saw you in those woods, I acted without considering any consequences."

"But you must have considered them! You were only there to abduct me."

He realized that although he had thought much about that day and they had often mentioned the abduction, he had never told her exactly how it had happened.

"I just wanted to see if my plan was feasible," he explained. "I'd heard you had all returned to Annan House, but I was sure that your father must have the place well guarded, so I went to have a look."

"And ran right into me, because I had escaped the house and walked down to the barley field," she said. "Sithee, I heard your boat, the oars thumping. And when I realized you had beached it on the riverbank, I moved closer to see."

"So here we are," he murmured, shifting up onto an elbow to kiss her again. "I must go now, truly," he added. "The men downstairs will be stirring soon, and I need at least an hour or two more sleep. But we will talk more of this, believe me."

Getting up, he pulled on his breeks and fastened them, then checked her shutters again. The wind had eased its ferocity, and the only thunder he had heard for some time came from well to the east, so he picked up the lantern, used the candle to light it, and blew out the candle. Then, bidding her sleep well, he opened the door.

Tiggie, stretched full length across the doorway, gave him a slant-eyed look, arched up to his feet, stretched again, and rolled to his back.

Rubbing his belly with a bare foot, Rob said, "Get you inside, laddie, if you mean to. I'm shutting this door."

When the little cat had obeyed, Rob left and went to his own bed.

In the darkness of the bedchamber, Mairi watched the door shut behind Rob and listened for a moment to the diminishing wind. Feeling Tiggie's slight weight on the bed just before he bumped his nose into her face, she greeted him and waited until he had settled on his favorite pillow before letting her thoughts return to Rob.

Her imagination replayed details of their coupling from the moment he had entered the room until he had gone. She did not think much about their talk, because as far as she was concerned, the subject required no further discussion.

Even if her father were a man who would allow his heiress daughter to marry where she chose, she was not at all sure she wanted to marry Rob. He was and would always be a Maxwell, after all, and that fact alone would cause trouble with her family and perhaps with their Annandale neighbors as well.

Also, although Rob was a landowner and Trailinghail a beautiful place, unlike Sir Hugh Douglas, he was not a baron or even a knight. Moreover, his proposal, if one could call it so, had come so impulsively on the heels of their coupling, he could not have considered fully the fact that he would be marrying a woman who might become a baroness in her own right.

She was sure that the consequences of that would be worse for him, or indeed for any man who expected to control his family and all of its affairs.

Jenny had explained to her how it would be, and Dunwythie had confirmed it. Mairi's husband, unless he had a title of his own as Hugh did, would have naught but a styling. That meant that although people would properly address him as "my lord," the words would be no more than acknowledgment of his marriage to a baroness. She would remain Dunwythie of Dunwythie unless she agreed to relinquish the barony to him, something she would not do.

"Maxwell of Dunwythie" flew right in the face of all that her family believed in. Her son, if she had one, would become Dunwythie of Dunwythie, just as his ancestors had been, as her father was now, and as she would be if she succeeded him. She could not and would not consider any other course.

As she tried to imagine what Rob would say if she were to explain that to him, her imagination boggled. But if she did not tell him, then…

She did not wake until Annie came in with her breakfast and the news that the laird would be busy most of the day but would try to join them for supper.

"There be trees down and roofs gone all over, m'lady," Annie said. "So they'll be lucky if any man amongst them gets his dinner today. They be a-scurrying hither and yon. Gibby says even Fin Walters's cottage lost much of its thatch. But at least the rain has stopped, and the sun be a-playing ‘all hide' wi' the clouds."

They tidied the chamber and stitched pieces of the quilt together for an hour before their midday meal, then worked on it afterward until Annie produced a dice cup and they threw dice together, competing for exorbitant if imaginary sums.

Annie had just suggested that she ought to go down and see how much longer it would be before supper when they heard footsteps on the stairs.

They stopped on the landing below.

"That will be the laird, m'lady. I ha' nae doots he has come up to change his clothes before supper. We'd best get ye tidied up gey quick."

Mairi decided to change her gown, so Annie shut the door, and they bustled about. Mairi was sitting on the stool while Annie finished plaiting her hair when Rob rapped at the door and asked if she was ready for her supper.

Barely waiting for her answer, he entered, leaving the door open behind him.

Annie got up quickly and bobbed a curtsy.

He gave her such a long look that Mairi expected him to send the maidservant away. Instead, he said, "Gib and one of the other lads will be bringing our supper up shortly. I just came ahead to see that all was—"

Breaking off, he turned toward the open door.

Mairi heard a female voice in the distance, a commanding one that echoed up the stairs. She also heard a male voice that sounded like Fin Walters, placating.

"Sakes, I must go!" Rob exclaimed. "Shut the door behind—"

"It is of no use to stand in my way, Fin Walters," the unfamiliar female voice declared loudly enough to be heard quite clearly. "I know where his chamber is. If he is not dressed yet, with supper awaiting him in the hall, he ought to be. But I have a few things to say to him before he eats that supper, so stand aside, my man!"

Rob stepped hastily out to the landing and pulled the door to with a snap.

Mairi turned to Annie. But Annie looked as mystified as Mairi felt.

Rob straightened his cap and tried to muffle his footsteps on the stairs. But it did him no good, because Gibby came bounding up the stairs ahead of her. Before Rob could hush him, he exclaimed, "Laird, she's here! Herself be here!"

"Hush!" Rob hissed just as his grandmother came around the bend in the stairs behind the lad.

"It is of no use to hush the lad, or scold him, either; I am coming up," Lady Kelso declared. "You will scarcely turn me from your door, after all."

"Madam, I would not, but it would have been good to have warning."

"I do not doubt that," she said, eyeing him shrewdly. "Where is she?"

He opened his mouth, words of denial leaping to his tongue. But he could not utter them, not to her. Instead, he said, "Why have you come?"

"Gib, go below and tell them I do not like my mutton overcooked. I shall expect my supper just as soon as my people have brought my things in. I expect you can spare a basin, a ewer, and a drop of water for me, Robbie lad."

"Aye, Gran, but you'd best come into my chamber to use them, I expect."

She nodded but said, "She is here then. Faith, lad, what were you thinking?"

Rob looked sternly at the fascinated Gibby. "Get hence," he said.

"I thought I should wait until ye take Herself into your chamber, lest—"

"Get!"

Gib slid hastily past Lady Kelso and fled down the stairs.

"So you, too, prefer this chamber," she said when he opened the door for her. "You can leave me to my own devices, if you like," she added, giving him a wry smile. "I warrant you would like to warn her that I am here. She should take her supper with us, I think. My Eliza will be up directly, though, so prithee, leave that door open so she can find me. It has been years since last we were here."

"Aye, but tell me first why you have come," he said, meeting her gaze.

With a slight grimace of distaste, she said, "I thought I ought to warn you that Dunwythie came to Dumfries and confronted Alex, demanding to know what the devil Alex had done with his daughter. Alex tried to order me out of the room, of course. But I am not so yielding as his Cassia is."

Too concerned to smile at her understatement, Rob said, "What happened?"

"His lordship, justifiably furious, said his daughter had vanished and your offer of aid had made it plain to him that the Maxwells had taken her. He demanded that Alex return her at once. He ripped up at Alex, too, told him that his despicable tactics would never persuade his lordship to let Alex extort gelt from Annandale."

"I see."

"I warrant you do," she said tartly. "What I should like to know, however, is just when you took leave of your senses!"

Ruefully, he said, "I think it must have happened the moment I laid eyes on her, Gran. If not then, it must certainly have been when I went to look over Annan House and ran bang into her at the riverbank."

Shaking her head, she said, "Mayhap, henceforward you will learn to control your impulses, though little good that would do you now. The plain fact is, my lad, that Alex is furious. He told Dunwythie that no Maxwell had done any such thing, but the confrontation ended badly. His lordship having had at least sense enough not to bring an army with him to Dumfries, nevertheless departed with threats to do that very thing, whereupon Alex informed me that he would soon teach you a lesson."

"So he leaped to the conclusion—"

"Don't cry out about that to me," she snapped. "You deserve to hear whatever he has to say to you, for you need a good down-setting. And, as I believe he is close upon my heels, it will come to you soon enough."

"He is on his way now?"

"Aye," she said. "I was nearly ready to depart for Glasgow, in any event. So I put my journey forward a day and hied myself here instead. I doubt that I fooled him any more than you have, however. He is far too likely to be acting in haste. You understand what this could mean, I expect."

"Clan war," Rob said curtly. "I never meant that to happen."

"Mind your tone," she said. Her expression was rueful, though, when she added, "I realized on the way here that you must have thought you were acting for Clan Maxwell. I ought to have recalled how headstrong you can be when you react to anger or resentment. I had second thoughts after I'd mentioned the clan, but I hoped… Never mind that now, though," she said briskly. "I want to meet her, so go and tell her that I am here. I trust you at least had the kindness to lock her in the great chamber and not in the smaller one upstairs."

"She is in the great chamber and has not been locked in since just a few days after her arrival," he said. "In fact, she has already tried to escape."

"Then she has more spirit than I'd expected. Go quickly now and fetch her. You may bring her to me here, and we shall go down and sup together."

"I'll have to bring Annie along as well, then," Rob said.

"Annie?"

"Fin Walters's good-sister," Rob said. "You'd know her as Dora's sister."

"Sakes, that bairn was no more than ten the last time I was here!"

"Then it is time and more that you came to us, madam."

"Get her before I hand ye a clout on the lug," she said sternly.

Remembering other times she had made his ears ring with a slap, Rob grinned but decided not to tempt her further.

Hurrying upstairs, he opened the door to Mairi's chamber without ceremony.

Annie was setting the stool at the table for their supper, and Mairi stood by the window, her figure outlined by the light there. She stood in profile, drawing his gaze briefly to her memorable firm, silky breasts before he looked her in the eye and said, "My grandmother is here. She wants to meet you."

Her mouth dropped open, which, he was sure, was how he had met the news himself. "Come along, lass. Annie, you will sup with us at the high table, but Lady Kelso wants to speak with Lady Mairi privately before you join us. So you can have a few minutes to tidy things here and lay out whatever her ladyship will need later, if you will."

"Aye, laird, just shout when ye want me," Annie said.

He nodded. Then, noting that Mairi had not moved, he said, "Now, lass. Gran has less patience than I have."

Smiling then, she moved toward him. He was glad to see that she wore the pink velvet that became her so well, until he remembered whose dress it was.

Suppressing any alarm that stirred at the memory, he put a hand under her elbow and ushered her out the door, murmuring for her ears alone, "She can be a termagant. But if one does not show fear or defiance, she will remain civil."

"Am I to thank you for telling me that?" she asked with her eyebrows raised. "I own, you have put me in a quake, sir. Yet, how any Maxwell could feel aught but shame for what one of her own has—"

"Enough of that," he said sharply. "She was born a Bruce of Annandale, not a Maxwell. And what she feels is anger, not shame. But she will reveal neither to you. She came to help us both, lass. Of that you can be sure. Now, come."

Mairi drew a deep breath and was glad when he released her elbow and stepped ahead to precede her down the stairs as any gentleman would. He stood in such awe of his grandmother that she had half expected he might let her go first.

They rounded the turn before the next landing, and she was able to see beyond him enough to note that the door in the same position to the landing as hers stood ajar. He paused at the threshold there until she was beside him.

Drawing her inside then, he said respectfully, "Madam, I would present to you the lady Mairi Dunwythie of Annandale."

The woman who turned toward them from the window looked nearly as tall as Rob was. She was elegantly dressed in a pale green tunic over a skirt of soft brown camlet that swirled gently around her legs as she moved toward them.

Watching her, Mairi saw feminine versions of Rob's eyes and nose but a kinder expression. Her ladyship's lips were thinner, her chin more pointed. Unlike Phaeline, who insisted that fashion decreed a perfectly oval, hairless face, she had kept her natural eyebrows. That tended to endear her to Mairi from the outset.

Realizing that she was staring when she ought to be making her curtsy, Mairi hastily dipped low.

"Rise, my dear," Lady Kelso said. "I want to have a good look at you."

Her voice was pleasant, her tone cheerful, and Mairi willingly complied. "I am honored to meet your ladyship," she said. "The laird has spoken often of you."

"Has he? He did not say a word to me about you until I commanded him to, my dear. I hope he has at least apologized to you for his scurrilous behavior."

"Why, nay, madam, I do not believe he has," Mairi said, avoiding Rob's gaze. "But in troth, he has treated me most kindly from the start."

"He abducted you kindly?"

Feeling fire ignite in her cheeks, Mairi said hastily, "Not that part. But for the rest, he has been most considerate."

"He did learn some manners, then. But enough of this, for I am ravenous after my journey. I do want to say just one thing more to you, though. I could not be sure until I had met you, but…" She hesitated, glancing at Rob.

"Sakes, madam, do not let my presence dissuade you," he said. "I cannot think what else you might say to her ladyship, but it is unlike you to hesitate."

"It is not on her account that I do, Robbie," she said. "I trust that you will heed what I say, however, and think carefully before you refuse."

"Go on," he said.

Turning back to Mairi, she said, "I am quite willing to tell the world you have been safely with me all this time, my dear. If I do, the most censorious critic will not guess that you and our Rob have been alone here at Trailinghail with no better protection for you than young Annie."

Mairi nearly protested that Rob had taken care to protect her reputation. But after the previous night's activity, she doubted she could say it with a straight face.

Before she could decide what to say, Rob said to his grandmother, "By my troth, madam! How can you make such an offer when you have been staying with Alex in Dumfries? Would you expect him to support your claim?"

"I have not the least intention of asking him to do so," she said. "I shall simply make the declaration the first time I hear anyone discuss Mairi's abduction. If I assure that person that you, having excellent cause for your actions, brought her to me—We must arrange a stronger tale to explain why you took her, of course."

"Gran—"

"But once we have plotted out what that must be, I shall simply make the statement. You need not fear Alex. He will not dare to contradict me, especially as to do so would incriminate you. Say what you like about him, dearling, Alex knows what is due to his family. Now, what do you say, my dear?" she asked Mairi.

The door snapped open and Gibby burst into the chamber. "Laird! The sheriff ha' come and he be looking black as thunder!"

"Run back down and tell him I'll be at his service straightaway, lad," Rob ordered. "Wait, though! Does he lead a large company?"

"Aye, a score, mayhap two! But Fin Walters did tell him they couldna come in as the place be gey small for such a crowd. 'Twas Fin told me to come quick and tell ye that the sheriff be in the yard and in a right foul temper."

"Then do exactly as I bid you and speak to Fin, not to the sheriff unless he calls you to him. Tell Fin he did right and to keep them all out but for the sheriff's personal servants if he brought any. Hurry, Gib. I don't want the sheriff to come up here, so I shall be close behind you. Madam?"

"Aye, I'll go down to him," Lady Kelso said. "But keep the lass out of the way, Rob. It will not do for him to see her here. Faith," she added. "I forgot you put her in the great chamber and that I told Gib to send my woman to the small one. Mairi, lass, hie thee upstairs and tell my Eliza that she is to move my things swiftly into the great chamber. You and your Annie will take the smaller one tonight."

Mairi opened her mouth to explain that Annie did not stay nights, but Rob intervened, saying curtly, "Do as she says, lass, and hurry. Tell Annie she must expect to stay. The bed in the small chamber is the same size as the one in yours."

Knowing she could take up no more of his time, Mairi caught up her skirts and ran up the stairs, only to meet Annie coming down.

"We've had a change of plans," Mairi said, and explained.

Annie turned around at once, and Mairi followed her, wondering if even the indomitable Lady Kelso could keep the Sheriff of Dumfries at bay.

It occurred to her only then that she no longer wanted or needed rescuing.

Rob followed his grandmother downstairs, thinking it typical that she had no hesitation in bearding Alex in a fury. Then he realized that he had no hesitation, either. In fact, if he were truthful, he was looking forward to it.

Lady Kelso paused on the landing outside the hall. Then, straightening her shoulders and raising her chin, she entered the great hall with regal dignity.

Rob lengthened his stride to walk beside her.

Alex stood staring into the fireplace, where a fire roared. Gillies scurried to and fro, putting food on the lower tables. Others did likewise at the high table.

Alex looked up with a frown, directing it first at his grandmother but shifting it at once to his brother. "This is a fine thing," he snapped.

"I am surprised to see you again so soon, too," Lady Kelso said blandly.

"Do not hope to cozen me, madam. I ken fine why you came here."

"Welcome to Trailinghail," Rob said, extending his right hand.

Alex looked as if he would ignore it. However, Lady Kelso said tartly, albeit in a tone unlikely to carry beyond the three of them, "Alexander, recall where you are!"

Grimacing, Alex shook Rob's hand and said, "Where are you keeping her?"

"Who?" Rob asked, meeting his angry gaze with uncustomary ease. "I'm told you brought a large force with you, Alex. Has aught occurred to warrant that?"

"You must know it has. Dunwythie, may the devil fly off with him, accused me of abducting his daughter. Sakes, I don't even know the lass's name! But I have no doubt that you do. What is going on, Rob, and where the devil is she?"

"Not now, and certainly not here," Lady Kelso said crisply. "You ken fine that you cannot roar at him here just as everyone is about to take supper, Alexander. Not unless you want Maxwell affairs bruited over all of Galloway and Dumfries."

"It can be here or elsewhere, but we are going to talk! And I'll be damned if I'll sit down to sup with him before I have learned all I want to know."

Raising her chin, Lady Kelso said, "Do you mean to say, sir, that you would leave me alone here to take my supper on that dais by myself?"

Alex hesitated, but Rob said, "It must be as you choose, madam. However, the great chamber is prepared for your use, and I will have a lad take supper up on a tray for you and your woman if you will only agree to it."

Her eyebrows shot upward. For a moment, she looked into his eyes. But her expression did not otherwise alter before she said, "I see too much of Eliza as it is and would much prefer to enjoy the company of my grandsons. However, if Alex is bent on fratching, his company would be unpleasant. Just be generous, Rob. I'm famished." Turning toward the stairway, she paused to say, "Send up that imp Gibby with the tray, dear. He'll likely amuse me more than either of you would."

"Aye, madam," Rob said. He motioned one of the gillies over and gave the orders, then said, "Come with me, Alex. I doubt you remember much about this place, but there is a chamber beyond this one that will serve our purpose."

"Only if it boasts a gallows, Robert. I'm ripe to hang you for this mischief. And by heaven, if it results in clan war, I'm likely to do that."

Although Rob knew he was exaggerating, he also knew that Alex was angry and even frightened that Dunwythie might persuade the other Annandale lairds that the Maxwells had taken his daughter. If they joined him, clan war would result.

He had to hear Alex out, to learn all he could about exactly what Dunwythie had said. He wanted to be sure that his lordship's threat had been sincere. If he meant war, then war there would be unless Rob could stop it before it began.

To do that, he knew he would have to choose between his loyalty to his clan and his vow to protect the woman he had wronged, a woman he was rapidly coming to realize meant more to him than his life did.