Chapter Three
Sir Adam MacQueen’s appearance at the gates of Glencullaich the next day did not surprise Harcourt at all.
Knowing how fast word could travel about any strangers in an area, he had suspected the man would hear about him and his men arriving and staying with Annys.
Harcourt had had his men watch for anyone leaving the keep or village, for anyone acting the spy, but they had found no one slipping away.
That, too, was not surprising although he had hoped for a bit of luck there.
The talk roused by the appearance of strangers had obviously been enough to alert Sir Adam, however.
It took but one look at how the people of Glencullaich reacted to the arrival of Sir Adam MacQueen and his men for Harcourt to know that the man would never be a welcome choice for their laird.
The people in the bailey looked at Sir Adam and his men as one would a pack of feral dogs, worried that one of the animals would leap at someone’s throat at any moment.
Harcourt looked into the man’s cold blue eyes and decided the people of Glencullaich had very good instincts.
David had used the same judgment as one of the reasons he so desperately needed an heir.
It also better explained how it was these people could accept as heir a child they were all fairly certain had not been sired by their laird.
“Greetings, Sir Adam,” Annys said as she walked out of the keep and stood next to Harcourt on the steps. “We were nay expecting you. Have ye stopped for a rest in your travels?”
“I have come here to judge for myself if the rumors I heard were true or nay,” he snapped as he dismounted and strode to stand at the base of the steps. “I now see that they were the truth. Ye have hired yourself some swords.”
“Nay, I havenae. These men are nay hired swords, Sir Adam. Ye lack courtesy to so quickly name them so. They are old friends.” Seeing the way Sir Adam’s eyes narrowed as he studied the six strong men now flanking her, Annys hastily performed the introductions.
Anger had put a hint of color into Adam’s cheeks.
Recalling how he could strike out when angry, Annys desperately tried to think of something else to say before the man had a chance to spit out his anger in ill-chosen words.
The very last thing she needed was a battle starting right inside her bailey.
“I have heard of the MacFingals,” Sir Adam said, disdain weighting each word.
“Aye, my clan is weel kenned far and wide,” said Sir Nathan MacFingal, “and our fame and glory grow with each passing day. ’Tis kind of ye to note it.”
Annys looked at the man, struggling to hide her surprise over such a boast. Sir Nathan was grinning as widely as Harcourt and the others were, apparently oblivious to the insult that had just been delivered.
That made no sense for they were not stupid men.
Yet, every one of them looked one word away from tumbling into a hearty bout of laughter.
She wished she knew what jest they shared.
The way Adam clenched his hands into white-knuckled fists told her he knew and this reaction to his attempted insult was infuriating him.
When Adam turned his glare upon her, Annys barely stopped herself from stepping back in alarm.
To hide her fear, she stood even straighter and idly brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek.
“My cousin isnae e’en cold in his grave but a few weeks and ye have already collected yourself a new stable,” Adam said in a cold, hard voice. “But, mayhap this one isnae so new, aye?” he added with a faint nod toward Harcourt.
Joan’s gasp of shock came from behind Annys but she was more interested in the sword point touching Adam’s throat.
She had not seen Harcourt move yet the man was one short step from ending Adam’s life.
It was very tempting to let him, but Annys knew she would regret it as soon as the deed was done.
She needed proof of Adam’s crimes against her.
Without it, she and Benet would fight the charge of murder for the rest of their lives.
At its weakest it would hurt them in any relationships, truces, or treaties they wished to make to better the lives of the people of Glencullaich.
At its worst, it could get her neck into a hangman’s noose and leave Benet alone and unprotected.
It would cause Sir Harcourt a great deal of trouble as well since it would be his sword that had drawn Adam’s blood.
“Since ye appear to have come to Glencullaich to do naught but insult me, Sir Adam,” she said, “I believe I would verra much like ye to leave. Now.”
“Ye would force me off my own family’s lands? Off MacQueen lands?”
“I would demand that ye leave my family’s lands, sir. Lands still held by a MacQueen whether ye be standing on them or nay. Lands I ken my late husband has already banished ye from once.”
For a moment she feared the man would attack her despite the sword point tickling his throat.
Annys wondered if she had pushed the man too hard but could see nothing else she could do or say.
To ignore such an insult to her honor, one delivered before her people and her guests, would reveal a dangerous weakness.
That would cause even more trouble than she was facing now.
She lightly tapped Sir Harcourt’s sword arm and he slowly pulled back his sword, but only a little.
“Ye go too far, woman,” Adam said and moved to remount his horse. “So does this mon ye call friend. Ye will regret it. Ye may trust me on that.”
Annys was too slow to shield her face with her hand when Adam and his men kicked their horses into a gallop and rode out through the gates.
Dust and grit stung her eyes and made her cough.
It gave her some small comfort to hear others doing the same, indicating that she was not the only one too slow to guess that Adam’s leave-taking would be as rude as his arrival.
When Joan, softly cursing Adam in ways Annys would never have guessed the woman knew, pressed a cool, wet cloth into her hands, she quickly put it to use.
As soon as her eyes were clear, Annys looked at Sir Harcourt.
It was irritating to see that he and his companions had obviously anticipated Adam’s petty action.
All six watched Adam and his men ride away with such intensity it made her belly tighten with unease.
She suspected not one of them would accept much of Sir Adam’s arrogant disrespect.
They would not ignore a threat, either, and there was no question that Sir Adam had just delivered one.
And this time Sir Adam had committed his crime in front of a whole bailey full of witnesses.
“His rush to your gates upon hearing of our arrival was the act of a mon who allows his anger to rule him,” said Harcourt as, once certain the gates were again well secured, he took Annys by the arm, and began to lead her back inside. “That is a weakness.”
“Doomed fools,” said Sir Nathan and winked at her before hurrying back into the great hall. “Ah, the angels smile upon me for there is more of that fine ale.”
“A mon easily pleased by the simple things in life,” Harcourt said, a hint of laughter behind his words.
Annys could not help but smile, although that pleasant touch of amusement only lightened her heart for a moment.
Adam’s visit had been uncomfortable for many reasons.
His anger and threats were something she now anticipated each time she saw him.
It was the way he had looked at Harcourt that troubled her now.
Annys had seen the glint of recognition in the man’s eyes.
She just wished she could know if it was because Adam recognized Harcourt from the time he had stayed at Glencullaich or if he saw as much of Benet in the man as she did.
Joan had assured her that the resemblance between Harcourt and his son was not that obvious, but Sir Adam had seen it, or thought he had.
She could only hope that the man did not start flinging accusations at Harcourt, too.
She sat down, smiled at the young boy who served her some cider, and tried to ignore how pleased she was that Harcourt sat next to her.
It was a foolish thing to be pleased about.
She was no young maid too inexperienced to deal with a handsome man.
Blushes and a flutter deep in her belly were the reactions of a virgin maid and she had not been one of those for a very long time.
Then she thought on the anger Adam had revealed, the hatred she had seen in his gaze as he had glared at her.
That hatred had bloomed after Adam had looked at Harcourt.
Annys could understand the anger since Adam felt he was being denied something he was entitled to.
She could not understand why he would be so twisted with hatred for her, however.
He had not looked at her like that before today and Benet was almost five years old, a child Adam had never believed was truly David’s despite how loudly and widely David had claimed the boy.
“I think we best keep a close watch on everything,” said Harcourt and watched all his companions nod in agreement.
“Because of the threat he made?” Annys asked.
“Aye, although I believe the threat has been there for a while. Mayhap just nay spoken so clearly or openly. There were a lot of witnesses to what he said. The mon has no patience. He wants what he wants right now. Ye have been a thorn in his side for too long.”
“David hasnae been dead that long.”
“True but we now think Sir Adam may have had a hand in that. Yet, despite that, he still cannae claim what he thinks should be his. And why is that?”
“Ah, because David married me and I gave him an heir.”