Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

W illiam groaned in embarrassment. He was not embarrassed for himself but for the twins, whose marksmanship was every bit as bad as, if not worse than, he had imagined it would be. Shot after shot had gone wide of the target, and there was a little heap at the bottom of it that consisted of all the arrows that had bounced off.

"I am not sure I can watch this much longer," he muttered to Bernard, who was trying to stop himself from exploding into laughter. "I knew that these two were inexperienced, but they are hopelessly incompetent. I have never seen such terrible marksmanship. God help them if they ever go into battle."

"Battle? These two?" Bernard threw back his head and laughed uproariously. "They would not make it to the field of battle. I never saw two such craven cowards in my life, and I know little girls who have better aim."

A second later, another arrow found its way onto the pile on the ground. The crowd groaned, and some walked away, joining the others who had not been able to bear the embarrassing spectacle any longer.

"Last arrow!" called the judge, looking relieved. He was an ex-military man to whom the whole affair was an absolute affront.

Andrew aimed his bow, sighting the arrow as he had been instructed to. There was a moment of tense, silent suspense, when a floating feather hitting the ground would have sounded like a cannon shot. Up until this point, their scores had been even at three each.

The arrow was loosed from the bow with a loud twang! then flew through the air and hit the board with a resounding thud. Andrew stood looking at it in amazement and disbelief for a second before throwing his hands up in triumph. A storm of applause went up from what was left of the crowd, and there was much back-slapping and hugging before everyone dispersed to pour out wine and ale. Alasdair, the loser, was standing at the fringe of the crowd, looking very sorry for himself, until Andrew came up to commiserate with him.

Bernard watched the little scene, thinking that even though they were a complete pair of idiots with no sense and no social skills at all, they were still brothers who were devoted to each other. In fact, he had heard that twins were even closer than ordinary brothers and sisters, having shared a womb together.

He felt a stab of jealousy pierce him as he reflected that he had never known such a relationship. William was as close to a brother as he would ever know, but there had always been a social gulf between them because William's father had not wanted to treat Bernard as a son. Nevertheless, he told himself to be satisfied with his lot in life. He was luckier than many others, he thought, but sometimes it was not enough.

Presently, he felt his shoulder being shaken, and he was jerked out of his reverie. William was standing beside him, looking exasperated.

"Are you listening to me?" he asked irritably.

"Sorry, Will, I was miles away," Bernard confessed, laughing.

"I said, do you want to stay and watch any more of this?" he asked. "There are real archers to watch now. The laird has hired a few bowmen for a proper show of archery this afternoon."

Bernard grinned. "I have really had enough, thank you." He gave a grim laugh as they walked away from the contest.

They strolled along the edge of the mass of guests with no particular aim in mind but were held up for a moment by the attentions of a very large furry dog who walked in front of Bernard and put his paws on his shoulders. He then began to lick his face thoroughly so that no part of it remained unwashed.

Bernard endured the slobbery kisses for a few minutes while laughing at the big animal until he was pulled away by a man who was about the same age as William's father, although much shorter.

"I beg your pardon," the man apologized, looking down at the big, white, fluffy animal. "Bertie is very affectionate—too much, I think!"

Bernard, who loved dogs, smiled and shook his head. "I have never met a dog I did not like, sir," he said, as the big animal sat at his feet and gazed up at him adoringly.

The owner of the dog laughed. "I have always found them to be wonderful judges of character," he remarked. "So I take it you are a man of worth."

Bernard blinked at the unexpected compliment. "Thank you, sir," he said, surprised as he bowed to the other man, whom he could see was a man of means by the expensive clothes he wore.

"Laird Callum Masterson," the man told him. He was small and elderly, with grey eyes, a shock of thick, snow-white hair, and a friendly manner. "My dog growled at the twin Stewart brothers, so I know he does not like them. Having met them myself, I have to say I share his feelings. I suppose I should not be telling you these things, but I trust Bertie's judgment."

"I am Bernard Taggart, M'Laird," Bernard announced. "And I have to say that I share your feelings. But don't worry, our conversation will remain between us."

He dropped his hand onto Bertie's head again and was rewarded by having his hand bathed by the big dog's wet tongue.

"Oh, don't worry, my boy," the laird said airily. "It is an open secret. Every laird here agrees with me, eh, John?" He turned to one of the other men, who was talking and laughing with a group of his friends.

The other man was much younger, but he was in perfect agreement with Laird Masterson. "Aye, a right couple of eejits," he concurred, before turning back to the others.

Bernard bowed to Laird Masterton again, who smiled at him before looking him up and down. "You must be the lad my daughter was talking about," he remarked, smiling again. "All the ladies are speaking about you in tones of great admiration."

Bernard felt himself flushing with embarrassment. "Thank you, M'Laird," he muttered, turning away to pat the dog again. He listened to what the gathering of men was saying while pretending to fuss over the animal, which welcomed all his attention eagerly.

"I don't care which one of them wins." Laird Cochrane's deep voice could be heard clearly over the rest of the noise around them. "They are both as stupid as the day they were born. I would be ashamed to call them my sons."

There was a chorus of agreement before Laird Colquhoun said thoughtfully: "They have one asset—their sister, Janice. What a pity she is a girl. She would make a fine laird."

"Indeed she would," Laird Watson concurred. "She already has the village on her side, and her servants all love her."

"Aye," Laird Donaldson echoed, his voice regretful. "Remember that terrible harvest we had two years ago? She had stored grain in the barns from the years before so that the people did not starve, just like Moses in the Bible." He smiled and raised his glass in a toast to her, along with all the other men. "She was only eighteen then. Her father helped her, of course, but she is the power behind the throne, without a doubt, and he will not be around for much longer. The poor man is being eaten alive with consumption."

"True. What a pity," Laird Watson said sadly. "He is a very good man and will be missed, and I dread to think what a state this place will be in next year." He took a sip of his whisky, shuddering. "It is not fair. She will likely be married off to a man who is not worthy of her and be expected to do nothing but breed for the clan, and that will be such a waste of a good mind."

The men murmured in agreement, and then the conversation drifted onto other topics. Bernard slipped away and caught up with William, who had strolled over to a group of young ladies, to whom Bernard bowed politely.

"Ah, this is my friend, Bernard Taggart." William smiled and stood aside, holding out his arm to usher Bernard into the group.

At once a pretty, young, blonde woman stepped forward and offered him her hand, which he bowed over since he was not permitted, as a member of the lower classes, to kiss.

"Aileen Montgomery," she said, gazing at him admiringly. "Why did we not see you at dinner last night, sir?"

"Because I am not one of you, mistress," he answered.

The young lady looked puzzled. "One of us?" she asked. "What do you mean?"

"I am not of the nobility," he answered. "I am merely a guard."

"Oh, what a pity." Her smile lost some of its sparkle suddenly, and he had the impression of a shutter going down between them. He felt nothing; he hated snobbery, as did William.

"Come, Bernard," William took his friend by the arm and led him away, glaring at the ladies. "If my friend is not welcome in their company then neither am I."

Bernard shrugged, then laughed. "Will, I simply do not care what they think of me. As long as you and Laird Ballantine are my friends, I need no one else. Let them admire me or men of their own class—I will not lose sleep over it."

"Do you not want to marry someday?" William asked.

"And I have told you at least a hundred times before," he answered, unconcerned. "Perhaps if I find the right woman, but I will not go searching for her. If I don't find anyone, I think I will buy a dog. They love you whether you are a guard or a laird or a laborer."

William laughed loudly at that. "It is my duty, and I am a dutiful son, and I have found the right woman. It is just a question of making my father see sense."

"Why have you not married Janice?" Bernard asked teasingly. "She is a very beautiful woman."

William looked at his friend in horror. "She would wipe her feet on me!" he cried. "She may have the body of a woman, but she has the mind of a man. No, there is a nice, biddable young lady waiting for me who adores me and will give me plenty of children, preferably sons. Janice would never have been my choice."

"You make her sound like a monster," Bernard observed. "But many of the lairds think it is a pity she is not a man. They are of the opinion that she would make a better laird than either of her brothers. But, of course, that is only the opinion of everyone I have spoken to so far."

William frowned. "Aye, well, she might be a good leader, and although she will never be in charge, she might influence whoever is. She might even be the acting laird—not officially, of course—but those brothers of hers are not too bright and will be easily influenced. We must make sure they listen to us, not her. There does not seem to be any love lost between them, which is good news for us."

They walked in silence for a while until they came to the main entrance of the castle, then strode over onto the flat land around it.

"I think the best solution would be to see that she is married and settled somewhere else." Bernard's voice was thoughtful.

"You take her on, then!" William chuckled as he looked sideways at his friend. "But God help you!"

Bernard laughed, and they walked on for a while and finally sat down among a thicket of spruce trees, leaning their backs against their solid trunks.

"I must speak to my father," William said at last. "If all these other lairds are on her side, it will be a problem for us, even if she is only working behind the scenes. When Janice comes back from the village, can you keep her occupied for a while?"

"Of course," Bernard replied, nodding.

He yawned and wandered back to the castle a long way behind his friend, thinking, and suddenly, at the thought of the curves of Janice's waistline, hips, and breasts, the animal in him surged with a rampant desire. He knew he could never have her, but that still did not stop him from wanting her quite desperately.

When he reached the castle, he climbed up onto the topmost turrets to avoid the masses of people downstairs and stood looking out over the rolling countryside on which Howdenbrae Castle stood, thinking about what their ultimate mission was. Their plan was to weaken the Stewart clan and make it dependent on the Ballantines, and although he had always felt uneasy about it, he now felt downright ashamed. However, he worked for Laird Ballantine—no, he depended on him—and his friendship with William was priceless to him. He owed them his loyalty. In fact, he owed them everything.

At that moment he saw a woman on a horse cantering toward the castle, her dark hair flying behind her like a banner. He waited until she had passed over the drawbridge and then leaped down the spiral staircase, taking the steps two at a time.