"Aye, that might dent his armor," Quin agreed, "but will he not know much about you, too, Cousin-enough to suspect your motives?"
"Aye, sure, but 'tis no secret now that Jamie and Elizabeth have both decided that peace in the Borders serves their political interests better than war. 'Tis my hope to procure that peace, or so I mean to tell Hugh Graham. I'll explain to him that if he can bring himself to agree to the marriage, it will serve-as such union s historically have served-to help assure the grand union to come."
Quin grinned. "'Tis a canny thought, my lad, letting him believe that his decision could bring peace to the Borders. It won't do any such thing, of course, because the damned English cannot keep themselves to themselves. They see Scots merely as vassals that must be subdued, but-"
"But it may serve long enough to secure Mistress Graham's safety and your own, Quin, and for the moment that will suffice. As to your folly in getting yourself caught, not to mention abducting the wench, I have more yet to say to you."
"I don't doubt it, but I'd as lief not hear it."
"You'll hear it anyway," his cousin said, his tone grim enough to stir prickles of uneasiness along Quin's spine.
He stood quietly for the next few moments, suppressing his resentment, while Buccleuch shredded his character and informed him that his behavior was about to undergo a sea change. "You'd best hope that Mistress Graham does not take it into her head to refuse this marriage, because if she does, you'll answer for your actions. I've warned you, time and again, that you were growing too reckless."
"Hold a minute," Quin said, his temper erupting at last. "You are as guilty as I am of recklessness, Wat. Worse! Your reputation for raiding far exceeds anything anyone credits Rabbie Redcloak with doing."
"Aye, 'tis so," Buccleuch agreed, "but I have the power to protect myself. Until you assume that power in my stead, Cousin, should you ever do so, you serve at my pleasure and Jamie's. Do you anger either of us, you will suffer for it." He held Quin's gaze for a long, uncomfortable moment before he added softly, "Have you aught more to say on the subject?"
Quin swallowed. Not only did his own fate hang on his reply but that of the Bairns, for without Buccleuch's support, they would all suffer. "I'll say no more," he said. "I must take responsibility for what I've done, and it is certainly my fault that Janet Graham left Brackengill in my company and is now here at Hermitage. If you believe that the only way now to protect her is for me to marry her, I will. I have said that already. But I owe much to the Bairns, too, Wat, and you know that I could not allow any of them to suffer merely to save myself."
"Marry the wench, Quin. What comes after that will come as God wills it, and in the end you must answer for your actions just as I must answer for mine."
"Aye, but first she must agree to the marriage," Quin reminded him, "and I have seen naught in that wench to make me think she will submit merely because we tell her she must. Her claws are nigh as sharp as her cat's."
Chapter 9
"Farewell, my dame, sae peerless gude,
And he took her by the hand … "
ON THE STAIRWAY, JANET eavesdropped shamelessly. It had taken her only a few moments to tidy her hair in the laird's chamber, and she had started down the spiral stone stairs with Jemmy Whiskers in her arms when she realized that she could hear their voices. On tiptoe, she moved to the turn just before the landing outside the entrance to the master's hall, where she stopped to listen.
She heard much of Buccleuch's reprimand, and she knew that, earlier, he had not exaggerated for her benefit his displeasure with his kinsman. She could almost feel sorry for Quinton Scott. Buccleuch had a harsh temper and was skilled in the use of words to express it. She listened with respect, glad that Quinton Scott and not she was standing the brunt of it. Clearly, Buccleuch had faced a dilemma, for among other things, she heard him tell his cousin that he had pondered the wisdom of revealing Rabbie Redcloak's true identity in order to secure his release.
"And that would have worked only if you could have kept yourself from being hanged long enough for me to get word to Scrope and him to get word to Hugh Graham," she heard him snarl. "In truth, since I believed they'd house you at Carlisle to await the next wardens' meeting, you'd have been dead long before."
Hearing that, Janet grimaced and felt shame again that her brother had flouted the law. She could not fault Buccleuch for believing what he had. She wondered if she could trust Hugh to keep his part of the bargain if he did agree to let her marry Quinton Scott. That was, of course, if she agreed to marry him, and that was by no means as certain as Buccleuch had made it sound. The alternative, however, was not tempting, for if she went home, she would face both Hugh's wrath and social ostracism. Although she doubted that they would actually hang her for aiding a felon, no one would receive her after they learned she had spent a night in the company of any man who was neither her father nor her brother. Doubtless the same standard would hold true if she remained unmarried on the Scottish side of the line, assuming that Buccleuch would allow her to stay if she rejected his kinsman.
Her resolve weakened even more when she heard Quinton Scott claim full responsibility for her plight, because she knew that her predicament was not entirely his fault. Had she not decided in the first place to defy her brother's authority, she would not be in any predicament. On the other hand, she reminded herself, had that been the case, Quinton Scott would be dead.
Hearing Buccleuch command him again to marry her, she decided that she had better add her own voice to the conversation. A clatter of footsteps from below urged haste, for it could only be one of Buccleuch's men, and it was most likely the lackey, Will. She did not know whether whoever it was would come farther than the master's hall, but she did not want to be caught eavesdropping. Accordingly, she snatched up her skirt with her free hand and hurried down the few remaining steps to the hall, taking care to do some clattering of her own.
Above the sounds she made, she could hear Quinton Scott saying, "I tell you, Wat, the lass is not as likely to bow to your command as you think she is."
"She will not, sir," she said briskly as she entered. "I am not so submissive, nor will I become so now that I know Scottish law will support me if I refuse. I have no wish to marry a man who has so grossly deceived me, or one who engages in such nefarious activities as those in which Rabbie Redcloak engages."
Before Quinton Scott could reply, Buccleuch said, "Aye, well, we've work still to do, all of us. Ah, good, Will," he said on a heartier note, "you've brought our ale, lad! Will you take aught to drink, Mistress Graham, whilst they arrange the table for our supper?"
"No, thank you, sir," Janet replied, still watching Quinton Scott.
Obliquely, she saw Buccleuch wave the lackey away, and as he left, she became aware of others entering, bringing the wherewithal to set up for supper.
Buccleuch and Quinton Scott seemed to regard the newcomers as so much more furniture, but Janet's gaze automatically shifted to follow them at their work. Nature and habit stirred her to see how well they attended to their tasks.
Her distraction was fleeting, though, because Quinton Scott said gently, "I would remind you, mistress, that your brother engages in those same nefarious activities; even worse, he pretends to act for the English government when he does."
"Hugh has authority to act for the government," Janet said, raising her chin. "He is, I remind you, sir, deputy to our warden of the west march. When he acts in that capacity, he acts with all the authority of her majesty the Queen of England. You, however, possess no such authority. If King James backs your actions, I have not heard about it, nor has my brother."
"Your brother is-"
"Enough, Quin," Buccleuch snapped. "Cease your fratching! You've given Hugh Graham the right to claim that you abducted his sister. 'Tis yourself who handed our bitterest enemies the means to bring our clan to its knees. If you mean to mend matters, you'll not do it by offending Mistress Graham or her pestiferous knave of a brother."
"But if she will have none of me-"
"Then you'll face the legal consequences of your escape and her abduction," Buccleuch declared. "I do not care if you do it as Rabbie Redcloak or as Sir Quinton Scott of Broad-"
"Sir Quinton!" Janet exclaimed, more outraged than ever.
"Aye, he is," Buccleuch said. "Jamie found himself in a good mood a few years back, at his queen's coronation, and knighted the both of us."
"You should be ashamed of yourself," Janet told Sir Quinton. "A man of high position to be playing such games-leading men into danger! It is one thing to do so in times of war, sir, but to do so now! I vow, I do not know what you deserve."
"Your brother is also a knight, mistress, albeit an English one. Still, if he possesses any honor, he protects his own people, and that is all I do. I support men who have suffered deprivation at English hands. I help them regain what is rightfully theirs, and I support the efforts of broken men-those who can claim no support from their kinsmen-to present their cases before the wardens or to do what is necessary to keep their wives and bairns from starving."