Chapter 5 #2
“Aye, ye will, for ’tis likely it be getting cold,” he said with a wan smile.
The water was lukewarm at best, but she washed quickly and was glad to be clean again. Donning a fresh shift, a lavender-colored kirtle, and a pair of leather mules, she sent Corinne to ask someone to bring their supper to Benjy’s chamber and returned to find her little brother wide awake.
“I thought you might have fallen asleep again,” she said.
“Nay, but when do you think this rain will end? I want to plant Rab’s tree.”
She had been thinking about Rab’s tree, too, and whatever it was that she had struck while digging its hole.
The blasting wind and rattling rain continued all day Friday, blowing and pelting down so hard that even the rain-loving Wat declared it a bad day to travel.
“In any event,” he said, as he and Dev lingered at the high table with their ale after breaking their fast, “we should discuss our tactics before we approach Archie.”
“He has knights much more experienced than I am,” Dev reminded him. “I’m not even sure I’m right for the post, but I’ll admit, I’d dislike his putting a man unknown to Robina and Benjy in charge there. I worry that Archie might act quickly, too.”
Wat shook his head. “If Archie acts fast, it will be the first time. His father always made the decisions, so Archie still hesitates to make his own. Because he left the Scottish army in France, declared himself too sick to go back, and persuaded his father to return in his place, I think he feels guilty that his father died there, making Archie the fifth earl.”
“Even so, no one calls him a coward,” Dev said.
“They do not, but neither is he a good leader. He cannot make up his mind to order a new shirt without pondering for a fortnight. Moreover,” Wat added, “he’ll resist taking action at Coklaw without first telling me. I have not won my spurs yet, but I am still one to reckon with in Teviotdale.”
Dev smiled. He could only agree with that. If the Douglas could raise ten thousand men in a sennight, it was only because Wat Scott could provide half of them.
“I’ve been thinking about your aunt Rosalie,” Dev said. “She’s unlikely to travel whilst this heavy rain continues.”
“Or as long as it threatens to rain,” Wat agreed with a knowing grin. “But by the time Archie agrees to anything that we might suggest…”
“I was not thinking of Archie but of Robina,” Dev said when Wat paused.
“I do agree that she ought to have an older woman at Coklaw, besides Mistress Greenlaw, to guard her reputation and, if possible, to keep her out of mischief. But I also think we must warn her before we present her with Lady Rosalie.”
Wat gave him a straight look. “You, not we, will present her. Gram has known Robby since birth and is right to worry about her reputation. The only wonder is that Robby hasn’t already pitched herself into the briars.”
Recalling two cows and four wool-laden sheep, Dev clenched his jaw.
“What?” the observant Wat demanded. “Do you mean to say she has—?”
“It came to nowt,” Dev interjected swiftly. “Just a lark, harmless.”
Wat’s eyes narrowed, but Dev met the look steadily.
“I doubt that,” Wat said at last. “So, if we do persuade Archie to appoint you, Dev, as I expect we will, you must make clear to that pliskie lass that her choices are two. She can accept a suitable married woman or widow—my grandaunt instead of her aunt Clara, if she prefers—or she and Benjy will remove to Gledstanes.”
Dev nodded. Wat was right. They could not leave her to her own devices any longer. The area was too dangerous, and Robina was mindless of her own safety.
“I did not expect hesitation from you on this subject,” Wat said, eyeing him shrewdly. “Your reputation belies such a reluctance to issue orders.”
With a wry smile, Dev said, “ ’Tis not reluctance to issue the ultimatum that delays me but knowing that she will likely murder me for doing so.”
“You admitted that she is out of charity with you, and I begin to suspect this ‘lark’ of hers as the cause. Do you mean to tell me how you incurred her wrath?”
“I do not.”
“I see. May I assume that you discovered it and exacted retribution?”
Dev remained silent.
“It does occur to me, you know,” Wat went on, “that the usual route from Hermitage to Hawick crosses Slitrig Water at Woodford. Instead, you had to skirt some hills to reach the Hummelknowes ford and Hawick. That likely—”
“Enough, my lord,” Dev said more curtly than he had intended. “Unless you order me to explain and give me good cause, I shall say no more about it.”
Wat raised his eyebrows, but his eyes gleamed now with humor. “Almost do you tempt me, Dev. I begin to suspect that you care more about our Robby than I knew.”
“She is Rab’s twin, and I promised him I’d look after her… and Benjy.”
He nearly added, “That’s all,” but the two words stuck in his throat.
Wat awarded him another long look but said only, “As I recall, you can give me a good game of chess.”
Surprised by the non sequitur and wondering if Wat was still talking about Robina, Dev cocked his head in silent query.
“The board is on that shelf behind you,” Wat said.
“We can play here, or we can adjourn with the ale jug to the inner chamber and play in peace. We should have time for several games whilst this rain continues. But I warn you, my lad, I mean to leave as soon as it eases enough to keep us from drowning. It will not do to let Archie think too long.”
Dev got up to fetch the board and the chessmen. “It won’t help our cause if we arrive at the Black Tower looking like men dragged out of a loch, either,” he said as he set the board between them and handed the box of pieces to Wat.
“We’ll have plenty of time to clean up before he grants us an audience,” Wat replied amiably. “Archie likes to keep people waiting, especially men he views as competitors. It makes him feel more powerful.”
They enjoyed several chess matches and more than was good for them of Wat’s potent whisky before they retired Friday night. The rain continued to drench the countryside through Saturday night and into Sunday, and by Sunday morning, Wat had had a surfeit of inactivity.
“We’re leaving in an hour,” he said as he and Dev broke their fast soon after dawn.
The women had not stirred, but men in the lower hall had been up for some time. Several still sat at trestle tables, eating or quietly talking.
As a last effort, Dev said, “It’s Sunday. Archie may not agree to see us today.”
“He’ll attend Kirk in Hawick this morning, because the townspeople like to see him,” Wat said. “Besides, time is passing, and it is a splendid day to travel.”
Knowing they would be soaked long before they reached Hawick, Dev stifled a groan. He knew better than to argue, though, so they set out an hour later.
He was confident that Wat’s skills in any parley would win the day. His feelings about Archie’s likely decision to send him to Coklaw, however, remained mixed.
No sooner did that thought flick through his mind than an image appeared there of an elderly, stern-minded, even brutal Douglas knight ordering Robby around. That image made him growl loudly enough to earn a mocking grin from Wat.
“Do you think growling at this lovely, soft mist will diminish it?”
Giving himself a mental shake, Dev grimaced and said, “You’d be well served, my lord, if this mist of yours were to summon up a kelpie or two to drag you underwater.”
“You may hope, but I think you fear something other than rain or kelpies, my lad. I never thought I’d see the day that mere thought of a small female could make you quake in your—but nay, those are my boots you’re quaking in, and that will not do.”
Dev shook his head, seeing naught to gain by explaining that he’d reacted to his mental image of an angry Douglas knight harming her.
If anyone was going to teach Robby to behave…
Benjy had begun sneezing and coughing before dawn Friday morning, so Robina ordered him to stay in bed and kept him there until Saturday afternoon, when he rebelled.
Then, ferreting out a Tables board and dice, she bundled him up by the solar wall above the hall fire, drew a table close, and taught him the basic moves for the simple French form of the game that Corinne had learned from her mother and taught to Robina and Rab.
Benjy soon revealed a natural gift for the game’s strategy.
During their fourth game, when Robina rolled a double four while his pieces blocked her fourth line, and he rolled a six to win, he crowed, “I thought I’d be years learning to beat you. ’Twas easy, though!”
“The luck of this game depends on the dice, laddie,” she said, as delighted as he was that he’d won. “Set your pieces again, and we’ll see how much you’ve learned.”
They played until the midday meal and again Sunday morning.
That afternoon, he decided on his own to nap.
Assuring herself that he had simply exerted himself too much the day before, Robina nevertheless sat with him for a time and realized only after he fell asleep that the heavy rain had eased to a drizzle.
The respite pleased her, and its timing would allow her to get out into the fresh air, if only long enough to retrieve the crockery jar she’d found.
The Douglas had welcomed Dev and Wat’s late-morning arrival cheerfully. “I hope ye’ve come to tell me that ye’ll provide men for Hermitage, sir,” he said to Wat.
“I can provide a score if you need them, my lord,” Wat replied.
Dev kept quiet and let Wat work his magic with Archie, hoping to learn more about the art of persuasion. Although he paid close heed, he learned only that Wat was persistent and could digest insults, pressure, and other such tactics without losing sight of his goal.
At midday, Archie said he would decide whilst he ate his dinner and that they should take theirs with their men in the hall until he summoned them.