Page 21 of Highland Guard

“The MacQueen laird has sent an answer,” Gavin said.

Seeing no missive in his hand, Annys asked, “Did ye put it in the ledger room ere ye came to find me?”

“Nay, he didnae write anything. He told me to tell you he needed to ponder his answer a wee bit and would send it on soon.”

“Ponder his answer?” Annys shook her head. “Thank ye, Gavin.” The moment the youth walked away, she looked at Harcourt. “What is there for the mon to ponder? I asked him to do something about the trouble his son was causing me. A simple aye or nay, or e’en a my son can do no wrong reply was all that was needed.”

Harcourt stood up, reached out to her in the hope of easing her agitation, and then tried not to wince when she smoothly moved out of the way. “He but delays, makes ye wait.”

“Wait for what?”

He shrugged. “For him to see for himself if what ye told him was true? To keep ye waiting and thinking he might help so that his son has more time to ready his next attack? All I am certain of is that the mon plays some game. I am just nay exactly sure which one.”

“Which do ye think is the most probable?”

“That he tries to make ye think ye could find help there and so will wait and do nothing else.”

“Thus, as you said, giving Sir Adam that time he needs to ready himself for his next strike.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to try to tamp down a rising anger, then looked at him again. “Weel, he will soon see that I am nay such a weak fool. We shall continue to do whate’er is needed to protect ourselves. And I hate this,” she added softly.

When he moved to take her into his arms, thinking only to comfort her, she evaded him again. “What is wrong? I but meant to try to ease the pain I heard in your voice when ye spoke.”

Annys studied his face, seeing no lie there. She doubted the embrace would have remained one of only comfort, however. She was not being vain in believing that he wanted her, was just not sure it was a want as whole-hearted as the one she had for him. As with too many men, Harcourt’s wanting probably sprang from just one part of him while hers was rooted so deep inside it was as much a part of her as breathing.

“Then I thank ye for that thought,” she said. “And, aye, this is a matter which causes me great pain. I simply cannae understand how anyone could wish harm upon a child or a place as fine as this just for their own gain. And that is all Adam sees when he looks at Glencullaich. Gain. His gain. He would bleed this place dry if he got his hands on it. I willnae allow that. I willnae play his father’s sly games, either.”

“Good, although I wasnae verra worried that ye would cry a halt to all we are doing just to wait on that mon’s word.” He held out his hand. “Sit with me for a wee while and we can discuss it all.”

Harcourt inwardly cursed when he saw wariness creep into her expression. He was not surprised, however. It had been an awkward ploy. For reasons he could not fathom, he lost all his reputed wooing skills when dealing with Annys.

“I begin to think ye play a wee sly game as weel, Sir Harcourt Murray.”

“Me? What game would I play with you, sweet Annys?”

“Seduction. Weel, ye can cease playing for I am wise to you now.”

Harcourt watched her walk away and slowly smiled. It was freeing, in a way, that she now understood he was trying to seduce her. He had discovered that his well-practiced seduction ploys did not work well on a woman who had never played the game. Such ploys were for the more worldly wise ladies, not one like Annys. The fact that he wanted to win this prize with a desperation that surprised him made him clumsy at the game anyway. Now he could openly hunt her down and he found he was heartily looking forward to that.

He walked toward the bailey to rejoin the others in training the men. Annys was still giving him a free hand in firming up Glencullaich’s defense. Sir Adam’s father had badly misjudged the intelligence of the woman he was dealing with. There would be no pause as she waited for his reply. In truth, Harcourt had every intention of working harder and faster.

Chapter Seven

It was not easy to ignore the four big men flanking her as she walked to the butcher’s, but Annys did her best to do so. Annoying though it was to be smothered with protection there was one advantage to it all. There were a lot of eyes on Benet, keeping her son in sight at all times. The boy was skipping along next to Sir Callum and as safe as he could ever be.

Benet was also chattering away so much that Annys was surprised he found the time to breathe properly. What truly astonished her, however, was how pleasantly Sir Callum dealt with the child’s unceasing talk. The man even took the time to discuss the goats Benet pointed out as if it was some new, fascinating subject to him, one worthy of all his attention. Her son, who was so often shy with men he did not know well, had taken to Sir Callum from the very beginning. So had most of the other children at Glencullaich. The man had a true gift with the young although she had to wonder if he thought it more of a curse at times.

“Callum loves the bairns,” said Harcourt, seeing where she was looking and burying a twinge of jealousy over how well Benet got along with Callum. “He made a vow when nay more than a child himself. He said he would always keep children safe, that he intended to become the one to defend them. Lad had a hard beginning himself.”

“Mayhap that is what draws the children to him,” Annys said. “The children ken it in that way they have.” She met Harcourt’s gaze, ignoring the way her pulse increased when she looked into his golden eyes. “And mayhap ’tis for the best if Benet doesnae spend too much time with you,” she added quietly and tried to ignore what looked like hurt darkening his eyes.

Harcourt pushed aside the pain her words caused him. He had just begun to believe that he had accepted the fact that he could not come to know his son as he wanted to, and then something would be said to make him regret the loss all over again. She was right. The less he and Benet were together, the smaller the chance that anyone would grow suspicious. Too much could be lost if anyone outside of Glencullaich guessed David was not the boy’s true sire. It would give weight to Sir Adam’s claim that he was the true heir. The people of Glencullaich deserved far better than Sir Adam as their laird.

Benet was alive, much loved by his mother and the people of Glencullaich, and he was both healthy and bright. He also was the laird and had a future ahead of him as a powerful and wealthy noble, something Harcourt could never give him. Harcourt found that he needed to remind himself of that far too often the longer he stayed at Glencullaich. Openly claiming Benet as his might make him feel better but it would take from Benet far more than he could ever hope to replace.

There were times he cursed the customs and teachings of his family. Many men were all too ready to walk away from a child they bred despite how often they condemned that child to a hard life. Harcourt could never do that. Leaving a woman carrying his child had proven hard enough but he had known that child would be loved and cared for, and would prosper. Now that he had seen his son, come to know the child, that was no longer enough but his vow to David held him silent. Murrays did not break a vow.

When Annys entered the butcher’s small shop with Benet, Harcourt took a careful look around before leaving her to do her business with the man. He rejoined his companions and surveyed the village that hugged the hillside. It was a good place. Harcourt made careful note of a few things he would like to do at Gormfeurach.

“’Tis a fine place for a lad to grow into a man,” said Callum.