Chapter 6
Despite the hilly terrain, Dev had set a fast pace, so he and his men had reached the first hilltop providing a distant view of Coklaw and its surrounding vale less than an hour after leaving the Black Tower.
Dev’s oilskins kept him relatively dry, and his usual energy had long since overcome the lethargy that the rain had caused at Scott’s Hall.
Despite lingering concerns for Robina, he was eager to reach the castle. He had commanded men many times in the field, but he had never taken charge of a stronghold, let alone one that had played a strategic role in Border history.
It would be a challenge, but he welcomed new challenges.
Benjy would be another one. The boy had idolized Rab and was unlikely to look fondly on any man attempting to take his place.
They had also lost their father not long ago, and although James Gledstanes had spent much of his time away from Coklaw, even more after his lady wife’s death, Benjy doubtless still felt his loss keenly, too.
And John Greenlaw. What, Dev wondered as they followed a track down through the forest, would Greenlaw think of Dev’s assuming his most important duties at Coklaw? Greenlaw was getting on in years but was not much older than Ormiston was, and the man was an excellent steward.
Emerging from the woods to see the tower again, much nearer, he spied an oilskin-draped figure sitting or kneeling on a slight rise southeast of it.
As he watched, the figure rose to its feet, looked toward the castle, and then turned away from it.
Hurrying to the dense hawthorn thicket that ringed the clearing, the figure bent again and dragged branches from the shrubbery into a low pile.
Although the stiff oilskin covered the person from tip to toe and revealed nowt of its shape, its movements suggested a female. She was alone, outside the wall, so Dev’s first thought was that it could not be Robina.
His second thought was a more cynical one, that he was foolish to assume any such thing. It could well be Robina, because the men of the household had already shown that they wielded no authority over her.
The figure gathered its tangle of branches and dragged them toward the place that Dev had first caught sight of her.
Watching her move, he became more confident that it was Robby. But what the devil did she think she was doing?
He urged his pony to a faster pace.
Coll, bearing Dev’s banner beside him, shot him a look of surprise, but Dev ignored him. She was looking right at him now. The oilskin revealed little, but he was as certain as if she stood two feet away that it was Robina.
Either she had recognized him or the sight of oncoming riders had disturbed her, because she strode back to the shrubbery and bent to scrabble under a bush. Then, she gave him only her back view as she hurried toward the opening gate and inside.
Nearly running up the main stairs, Robina passed the hall archway only to hear Ada Greenlaw’s voice: “M’lady, ye’re no taking them oilskins upstairs, are ye? Ye’ll drip all over everything.”
“I’ll leave the oilskin here on the landing, Ada. Riders are coming, and I’m filthy, so I must hie myself upstairs and get out of my wet clothes.”
“I wonder who it be,” Ada said, bustling toward her, but Robina did not wait. Clutching the jar beneath her cloak and praying that Ada would not demand the cloak as well, she hurried up the stairs.
“Corinne be helping Daisy in the scullery,” Ada shouted up the stairs after her. “I’ll send her to ye directly.”
“Thank you,” Robina shouted back, grateful to know that Corinne was not ahead of her on the stairs or in her bedchamber.
“I warned you that he’d return sooner than you expected.”
“Is it Dev?” she muttered. “Can you be sure?”
“Now, that would be telling. You’ll see soon enough.”
Nearly consigning her brother to a place much warmer than the castle, she recalled, flushing hotly, that, considering his present state, the curse might be unwise.
At that thought, she heard his soft laughter.
“Certes, but you’re a one, lass.”
Wishing again that he were alive but reaching her bedchamber in apparent safety, she hurried inside and shut the door behind her.
Looking for a place to conceal the jar until she had enough time and privacy to examine it closely, she saw only her clothing kists and the washstand.
Then she recalled that, while they were sorting and cleaning, they had put four extra blankets in the large kist in the near corner by the head of her bed.
Flinging off her cloak, she knelt by the kist, unfastened its leather hasp, raised the lid, and slipped the jar under the folded blankets. She had barely fastened the lid shut again when the door opened and Corinne entered.
“What be ye doing, mistress?” she asked, entering and scooping Robina’s cloak off the floor. “Mistress Greenlaw said ye wanted to change your dress.”
“I want my lavender kirtle,” Robina said. “But I’ve been mucking about in the hole for Benjy’s tree, so what I need first is soap and water.”
“Ye’ll no find any kirtle in that kist. We put them blankets in that one. Your kirtles be in the one by the washstand. But if ye want hot water—”
“If the ewer is full, I’ll use that,” Robina said. “Riders are coming. I think that perhaps Sir David is returning.”
“So soon? The man left less than a sennight ago.”
“He said he’d return when he could,” Robina said. “I did not expect him this soon, but I cannot think who else it could be.”
Corinne’s eyes widened. “It could be raiders!”
“In daylight without warning? I doubt it. They carry a banner, but it was soaked and drooping.”
“Aye, then, but ye’re in much the same state,” Corinne declared, shaking her head. “Ye’ve mud all over your boots and your skirt. And this cloak be a sight, too.”
“Don’t scold; just help me,” Robina said, dragging the wet kirtle off. “If it is Sir David, he’ll want to see me, and I don’t want him to condemn my appearance.”
“Wash your face then, whilst I fetch out a clean shift and your lavender kirtle,” Corinne said. Hesitating, she added with a frown, “Ye dinna think he’s come to take Jem Keith and that Jock Cranston away, do ye? I’d no mind seeing Jock go, but…”
“Corinne, Jem Keith serves Sir David, not us.” But it was likely, she thought, that Dev had come to collect his men. As she hastily washed, she told herself firmly that she would be glad to see him depart as soon as he had collected them.
That thought stirred her twin’s chuckles again. “You must like Dev, Beany. You think about him too often for one who dislikes him.”
She had to press her lips together to keep from replying aloud, but her thoughts surely made her opinion of Rab’s teasing clear to him.
“Ye should wear your white veil,” Corinne said, shaking out the kirtle.
“You know I don’t cover my hair unless I must,” Robina said tartly.
Realizing that her irritation was with Rab, not Corinne, she added, “I don’t mean to snap at you.
I just wish I knew why Sir David has returned so soon.
He left his men here because he thought we had too few. We haven’t hired more in the meantime.”
“Dev made a promise, lass.”
Robina had her shift on, but a rap on the door startled her as she stepped into the lavender kirtle.
Hastily slipping her arms into its sleeves and yanking it up, she held its unlaced bodice together with her free hand, extended the other to Corinne to button the sleeve, and said crisply, “Who is it?”
“It’s me,” Benjy said, pushing the door open. “I woke up.”
“Then go back to your room, wash your face, and tidy yourself,” Robina said. “I think Dev has returned. If he has, he will take supper with us.”
His eyes lighting, Benjy dashed back across the landing to his chamber, leaving her door and his own ajar.
Robina hastily tied her bodice laces, while Corinne moved toward the door to close it, but stopped when a female voice said from the landing, “Dinna shut it, Corinne. Sir David be here, and Greenlaw says to tell her ladyship they be in the inner chamber.”
“Ye’re blushing, mistress,” Corinne said with a grin as she shut the door. “Are ye sure he doesna interest ye just a wee bit? He’s a fine, strong chappie hisself, I’m thinking.”
Grimacing, Robina said, “I’m hot from hurrying. Prithee, help me with my hair.”
Dev had no sooner dismounted in the yard than Greenlaw strode from the stables to meet him with Jock Cranston and Jem Keith following him.
“Ye’re back gey soon, lad,” Greenlaw said, shaking his hand. “Come inside wi’ me. I’ve a few things I’d like to say to ye, and some questions I want to ask.”
Realizing that the steward had learned about his previous Sunday night’s visit—and had likely gleaned most of the information Monday morning, soon after he discovered he’d acquired two new men—Dev wondered if Greenlaw meant to take a high hand with him.
Whether he did or not, he knew he’d have to tread lightly until he revealed that Douglas had appointed him Warden of Coklaw. He knew, too, that he deserved to hear whatever Greenlaw was likely burning to say to him, especially if the older man knew that he’d skelped Robina… in her bedchamber.
Robby would not have told him that, Dev assured himself, only to recall Benjy’s innocent disclosure that he’d heard Dev “a-skelping her.” He didn’t know the boy as well as he knew her.
He remained thoughtful as he followed Greenlaw—still muscular and solidly built despite his gray hair—into the inner chamber and shut the door behind them.
“Ye must ken fine that I’ve learned near all there is to ken about your visit last Sunday night, sir,” Greenlaw said, moving to the center of the room.
Feeling his way, Dev said, “I agree that my visit came at a late hour, but it was fortunate that I came this way.”
“Aye, it was, although I’m glad ye didna run into our lads whilst they was a-gathering them sheep and cows. I’m told they’d returned afore ye arrived, but…”
When he paused Dev said carefully, “I did learn about the raid, aye.”