Chapter Six
Harcourt did not know whether to laugh or curse when he found the MacFingals.
He had been searching for the two men for an hour.
Now he realized he should have gone to where the maids were first. Nathan and Ned were very busy trying to charm two bonnie maids into offering them their favors.
If the blushes and giggles of the women were any indication, the MacFingals were close to succeeding in their quest. Although he had thought they would be a good choice to gain some information from the maids, something that might lead them to the traitor, Harcourt did not think they were doing that at the moment.
They looked far more interested in warming whatever beds they found to sleep in.
When Ned suddenly looked his way, Harcourt signaled him to join him and then impatiently waited while the two men took their leave of the maids in a way that left the women still giggling.
“Has something happened?” asked Nathan.
“Nay,” Harcourt replied, walking back toward the stables where he had begun his long search for the two men, both of them falling into step at his side. “I but need your reputed skill at finding things.”
“What have ye lost?”
“The trail of that bastard causing us all of this trouble.”
“Ah, aye, kenning where he is would be helpful. Ye think he must be close at hand, dinnae ye.”
“It would explain the ease with which he slipped away yesterday. I also think all these wee attacks, and annoyances, are meant to weaken us. Mayhap distract us just enough to nay see what his true plan is.”
Ned frowned. “And that would be?”
“To attack, to take what he wants by force and, I suspect, to make certain that Annys and Benet dinnae survive to continue to argue about his claim for this land.” He stopped, leaned against the side of the stables, and frowned.
“He may think to just be rid of Annys and Benet to clear his path to the laird’s chair here but he has already failed to get hold of her and Benet is verra closely watched at all times. ”
Nathan nodded. “He has also tried his luck with the courts and the king and gained naught.”
“So that leaves war,” Harcourt said. “If he cannae take Glencullaich easy, he will take it hard.”
“Ye think he may be gathering an army.” Nathan looked around at the men of Glencullaich working in the bailey. “I dinnae think these men are prepared enough to fight an army.”
“Nay,” Harcourt agreed, “but they are gaining skill every day. That may be something Adam doesnae ken. He saw us, judged our skill as a threat, but I dinnae think he has the wit to see that we could weel give some of that skill to these men. And he doesnae have enough respect for them to believe they could learn. These men may nay be full ready to repel an assault on this keep but they have the heart and stomach to do their best to try. Dinnae think Sir Adam kens that either. At least that is one weakness we might be able to make use of.”
“And ye want as much information on where he is and what he is doing as possible.”
“I do. E’en what alehouse he goes to or what maid he is swiving.”
“We will get ye what we can.”
Harcourt watched the two enter the stables to select their horses and sighed.
The MacFingals had a reputation for their ability to spy or steal with a skill none could match.
The clan had, more or less, stopped stealing since their laird, Ned and Nathan’s eldest brother, Ewan, was trying very hard to shine up the MacFingal name.
The skill they had for spying, however, as well as their reputation for being fierce, skilled fighters, had proven very helpful to Ewan in getting some of his far-too-many brothers into good positions with other clans.
Harcourt knew the necessity of what he asked of Ned and Nathan but hoped he had not put them in too much danger.
Nathan and Ned had soon selected their horses and packed their supplies.
After wishing them a safe journey, Harcourt turned to go back into the keep only to catch sight of Annys.
She stood watching the MacFingals leave, her soft, full lips curved into a small frown.
Harcourt’s gut clenched with want as the memory of her kiss washed over him.
It had been two long days since he had kissed her and she had done her best to avoid him since then.
That would stop now, he decided, as he walked toward her.
He refused to be ignored. He wanted more than the occasional kiss snatched when he caught her alone at some weak moment.
Harcourt decided he was going to seduce her and he smiled when he reached her side, looking forward to the challenge.
The way she looked a little wary did not surprise him.
He suspected he looked somewhat predatory, the hunter inside him revealing itself in his smile.
“Has something happened?” Annys asked. “Is that why Nathan and Ned are leaving?”
“Nay, nothing has happened.” He was not surprised that the question was so often asked around Glencullaich.
“I just decided it was past time we kenned where that fool Adam is and just what he may be doing. Kenning where he is could be a great help. He slips in and out of your lands with far too much ease and disappears far too quickly. I want to ken how he does that.”
“It is going to get worse, isnae it?”
“Oh, aye. The mon has only two ways to get his greedy hands on this land, doesnae he. He can be rid of you and Benet. Or, he can just take it all away from you, making verra certain that ye and Benet dinnae survive the taking to challenge him later.”
She paled and he put his arm around her slim shoulders, pulling her up close against his side.
It was a harsh truth but she had to face it.
Harcourt suspected she was aware of what the next step in this dance would be, certainly after Sir Adam’s attempt to kidnap her, but it was time to face the truth with her eyes wide open and her mind clear of doubt or false hopes.
She needed to be fully prepared for the battle he knew was coming.
Annys forced herself to stop enjoying how he held her close and started thinking again.
The man was skilled at muddling her wits.
The moment he was near all she could think of was how badly she wanted to kiss him.
She inwardly cursed, recognizing how cleverly she could lie to herself.
In truth, when he was near, all she could think of was making love.
She was failing miserably in shaking free of that weakness.
“I ken it,” she said, pulling away from him and ignoring how her whole body protested the loss of his warmth. “I do. I just wish it wasnae so. Worse than that, I think too often on how Sir Adam is actually right to claim that Benet isnae the true heir.”
“Oh nay, lass. Benet is indeed the true heir. David claimed that lad as his son and the lad was born within the bounds of your Church-blessed marriage to the mon. That is all the law and the Church require. Lass, trust me to ken this as truth when I tell ye, Benet will nay be the first heir who carried none of his mother’s husband’s blood. ”
“That is rather sad.”
“At times. At other times ’tis for the best. I dinnae think many do as David did but others ken weel that the son they claim as heir, the lad they raise and train, isnae truly their get.
There are many reasons for that, too. Nay begetting a son of his own is the most common of reasons.
The moment David held Benet and claimed, ‘This is my son,’ Benet became the true heir to Glencullaich in the eyes of the law and the Church. ”
“That fact doesnae stop the whispers Sir Adam has stirred up with his talk. Whispers and doubts my son may have to suffer from for the rest of his life.”
He sighed as she walked back into the keep. Harcourt knew she was right. And in this matter the truth would not free Benet from that. He inwardly shook his head at his own heedless actions of five years ago.
Then he thought of all David had said to convince him.
To his shame it had not been that difficult for the man.
Harcourt had wanted Annys from the first moment he had seen her, opening his eyes to find her leaning over him and bathing his feverish brow with a cool damp cloth.
There was no disputing what David had said, Sir Adam’s actions now proving that the man’s fears for Glencullaich had been well justified.
Yet, Harcourt could not help but think that it had not been his head doing his thinking for him at the time.
As he stepped into the great hall to see Benet sitting next to Annys, the boy’s short legs swinging back and forth as he told her about some snail he had seen in the garden, Harcourt sighed.
He could torture himself with guilt, bemoan the way he had allowed lust to lead him, and even suffer the pangs of shame for walking away from her and the child he had bred, but one thing he would never change.
Without all that had happened, all that was wrong, there had been one blessed outcome of the past: Benet.
“Och, the snail couldnae have been that large,” he teased as he walked up to the table to sit down facing them and noted with amusement that Benet was holding his hands at least a foot apart. “A snail that big could chomp on a wee lad like you.”
Benet sat up straight and puffed out his thin chest. “I would fight. I would beat him with my stick.” He frowned down at his feet. “I would stomp him with my shoe but then it would get all messy and I like my shoes.”
“Ah, aye, they are verra fine shoes. Of course, it isnae good to kill a poor creature that is just trying to find a meal for itself. But it needs to leave the garden before it eats all that we need for our meals.”
Benet leapt up and scrambled out of the seat. “I will get Tomas and Robbie to help me put it outside the walls.”
And then he was gone and Harcourt shook his head over the speed with which the boy moved. “Who are Tomas and Robbie?”