Read A Bewitching Bride Online
Authors: Elizabeth Thornton
A Bewitching Bride (34 page)
It wasn’t much of a stable, only two sections, one for the horses and one for the harness and tack. Danny came forward, looking curiously from one to the other. He was, by Kate’s reckoning, fourteen or fifteen years old, with wild red hair and a liberal sprinkling of freckles across his nose and cheeks. Though he was lame and his gait was awkward, he moved as though he were unaware of his handicap.
Gavin made the introductions and left, promising that he would return in five minutes. A cursory glance around told her that her own father would have been happy to take Danny on as a stableboy. The only lantern was on a stone slab atop the cobblestones. Fire was an ever-present danger if a stable hand got careless.
“Only two horses?” she queried as they moved to the back of the building. As she got a clearer look at them, she was taken aback. She’d expected Gavin to keep great showy beasts, not these sorry looking specimens.
“Don’t let their looks fool you, miss,” Danny said. “They’ll never win any races, but these Highland ponies can see in the dark. They never stumble or balk at hedges or stone dikes.”
“Then we have something in common,” Kate said. Her mind had taken her back to the wild chase over the desolate moors. If it hadn’t been for Gavin—she suppressed a shudder.
They were watching Kate with ears back and nostrils flaring.
“They’re not used to strangers,” Danny added doubtfully, “so I wouldn’t get too close to them if I was you.”
“Something else we have in common,” Kate said. She noted Danny’s puzzled expression and spoke in a more casual tone. “They’re no beauties, are they? What made your master buy them?”
Danny chuckled. “He didn’t. He found them half-starved to death on the hills. They followed him home. I suppose their owner was afraid to claim them, knowing that Mr. Hepburn would give him the thrashing of his life.”
Kate’s nimble mind was making connections: Macduff, the Highland ponies, Danny, Calley, herself. They were all strays. Is that how he thought of her and the others? It was a sobering thought. It was more than sobering. It softened the hard knot of resentment that seemed to have lodged in her heart. He was a good man, a caring man, one of the best. What she had to make him understand was that she didn’t need mollycoddling. She wasn’t helpless.
One of the ponies blew in her ear. The other nuzzled his nose under her arm. She turned to pet them. In the blink of an eye, everything changed. One whinnied softly, the other bared its teeth. They both looked over her shoulder.
She reached in her coat pocket and withdrew her revolver. “Danny, douse the lantern and get behind me.”
His jaw went slack. “What?”
“Do it!”
Her imperative had him rushing to obey her. When the light was out, a shadow moved near the open door. Kate cocked the hammer of her revolver.
“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” It was Dalziel’s voice. “Calley told me that Gavin was up at the stable. I came to warn him, came to warn you both. Where is he?”
Gavin’s voice answered him. “I’m right here, Dalziel. Calm yourself and tell me what this is about.”
“It’s not safe here,” Dalziel said. “I think I’ve been followed.” He was breathing hard.
“Let’s get back to the house,” said Gavin. “Danny, you know what to do?”
“Aye, sir. I’m to fetch the tinkers.”
“Take Macduff with you, and if there is any sign of trouble, send him to fetch me.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Hurry,” said Dalziel. “Hurry, before they get here.”
Twenty-three
“I thought,” said Dalziel, “that they were right on my heels. I’m sorry. I panicked.”
With the exception of Danny, they were in the kitchen with all the windows and doors locked against the outside world.
“They were waiting for us at Ballater, you see.” Looking at Gavin, Dalziel went on. “The police, I mean. They thought you would be on the train. They wanted to know where you were and when I had last seen you. Thank God for Mrs. Cardno. She has known most of them since they were young lads. They were very respectful. She told them that, as far as she knew, you left for Braemar to prepare for your wedding. I’m not sure that they believed her, but they let her go. Eventually they let us go, too, but we are under orders not to leave Ballater.”
“Who was on the train with you?” Gavin asked.
Dalziel shook his head. “I don’t rightly know. They were spread out through the other coaches. Some, like Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, put up at the hotel, others with Mrs. Cardno.” To Kate he said, “Your parents invited one and all to join them to celebrate your wedding, and most of them accepted.”
“Touching,” said Gavin dryly.
Kate heaved a sigh. “It’s not our wedding reception that is the draw. It’s the Knights Templar. You’d be surprised how many visitors to the area seek my father out for the sole purpose of following in the Knights Templars’ footsteps. And, of course, he is in his element.”
Gavin was staring at his hands. He looked up with a smile. “On this occasion, Kate,” he said lightly, “I think that I’m the draw. What else should I know, Dalziel?”
“The police in Aberdeen are sending one of their best with a warrant for your arrest. No one is allowed to leave Ballater until he questions them.”
Kate felt the pressure begin to build behind her eyes. The events that Dalziel had related respecting her marriage made perfect sense. When Dalziel had told her parents that she and Gavin had returned to the Highlands to fulfill the residency requirements for a proper marriage to take place, naturally, they had lost no time in making for home.
Her father, in particular, would want to see them well and truly shackled before they could change their minds. She hadn’t counted on so many of her friends and people she didn’t know making a party of it. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. There were too many suspects. All Gavin wanted was one face to emerge from the crowd, the face of their villain.
“No!” she said with enough force to make everyone fall silent.
“No?” Gavin asked softly.
Her gaze moved from person to person. “My father was once a lawyer,” she said. Her voice was hard with determination. “He is still well-connected. He’s not going to allow my only offer of marriage to escape so easily. You’re stuck with me, Hepburn. Better get used to it.”
The laughter died away when Calley opened the door to the broom closet. All Kate could see were brooms and cleaning supplies. Calley put his shoulder to one wall, and the wall slid to the side, revealing an array of firearms. He chose one for Gavin and one for himself.
“Our secret armory,” Gavin said.
Kate had never seen anything like these firing pieces. They looked as though they had enough firing power to blow away a building.
Gavin answered her unspoken question. “These sweethearts,” he said, caressing the long barrel of his rifle, “are for show. They’ll make a lot of noise, but we won’t be aiming them at anyone.”
“No,” said Kate. “We’re in enough trouble as it is without killing or maiming policemen.”
She placed her own gun on the table, close at hand. Dalziel looked horrified when Calley offered him a revolver, but he accepted it just the same. “I . . . I . . .” he began, and shook his head.
“Dalziel,” said Kate severely, “we know that you are a son of the manse, but surely, if someone was about to kill one of us, you would forget your scruples and try to save us?”
He swallowed hard. “Of course, I would.” His chin jutted, and he said with more feeling, “Of course, I would!”
“Now that we’ve got that settled,” said Gavin, “would you mind telling us, Dalziel, what you learned from St. Peter’s parish records?” A pause followed. “Dalziel! What did you learn from the priest?”
Dalziel seemed to be lost in a daydream. He held the revolver in his left hand, transferred it to his right and then back again. “It’s heavier than it looks,” he said.
“Dalziel!” Gavin roared.
“What? Oh, yes. The parish priest. You were right about that.” He reached in his pocket and produced a small notebook. “Mary Macbeth,” he read, “spinster, lady’s companion, married Mr. Geoffrey Gordon of Forres in April of 1856. A year later, their daughter was christened in the same chapel.” He looked at Kate. “Her name was Catherine Macbeth Gordon.”
A long, pent-up silence ensued. Kate finally remembered to breathe. “My parents were married?”
“Yes,” said Dalziel. “It would seem so.”
“What happened to my father? Why have I no memories of him?”
Dalziel touched her briefly and then jerked his hand away. “That would be because he died of typhoid fever before you reached your fifth birthday. It’s in the parish record.”
“I wonder . . .” said Gavin. He looked out the window. “Duck!” he suddenly yelled. “Duck!” he shouted again as a shell blasted the window into a thousand shards.
Kate was frozen in place; Dalziel had thrown himself under the table and came nose to nose with a terrified mouse. “Is this what I am?” he mumbled. “Am I a mouse or a man?”
“What did you say?” Calley shouted.
“I saw myself in a mirror,” Dalziel bit out. He got to his feet. “Why have I been given this toy?” He waved his revolver in the air and jumped when a bullet discharged from the muzzle and embedded itself in a rafter.
Gavin laughed, a reckless laugh that made Kate want to box his ears.
Calley smiled, but he kept his eyes trained on the windows. “You’re a beginner, Dalziel,” he said. “Make sure you point your gun at a real target. When you master that revolver, then we’ll let you have one of these Henrys.”
More shots followed, but the attackers had evidently backed off a bit.
“Those are not policemen,” Dalziel said, mopping at his brow.
“No, indeed,” Calley replied. “Policemen don’t carry guns. Those must be militia from the barracks at Ballater.”
“Or from the castle guard,” Gavin added.
“What’s the difference?” Dalziel asked.
“The castle guards make up the queen’s private army when she resides at Balmoral. Let’s test them, shall we?”
He used the butt of his rifle to break one of the windows.
When he pulled the trigger, the report of it going off had the dishes on the table dancing a wild jig. One plate toppled to the floor, lost its momentum, and came to a dizzying halt. The stags’ heads were not so fortunate. When the soldiers returned fire, they went flying off the walls in a cloud of dust, and impaled their horns in the cross-beamed ceiling. The floor was littered with plaster, debris, and broken glass.
“They’re retreating,” Calley shouted, “regrouping.”
More shots hit the house, but none entered the kitchen. “They’re untried youths by the look of it,” Calley said, “but if they call out the castle guard, the hills will be crawling with sharpshooters.”
“That’s what they want,” said Gavin, his face grim, “to pin us down until the elite guard gets here. This calls for a change of tactics. Kate, have you got your revolver?”
“Right here,” she said, and she held it up for him to see.
“Get yourself into the cellar, and stay there until we come and get you.” He opened the door to the cellar.
She cried out, “I’m not going anywhere without you!”
Black slits of eyes, wizard’s eyes, bored into hers, and she felt her own will begin to bend. Then his eyes widened with disbelief.
“Take cover!” he suddenly roared. He reached for Kate.
It was the last thing she remembered before a deafening blast rocked her back on her heels, and she sank into a fiery pit.
Twenty-four
Gavin opened his eyes wide. He was on his back and expected to see stars overhead. What he saw were shadows. As the breeze whistled through his makeshift shelter, he heard the hiss of a gentle rain. Strangely, he was warm and dry, but every bone and muscle in his body felt as though a wall had fallen on him.
As fragments of memory flashed through his mind, he tried to sit up, but stronger arms restrained him, Calley’s arms.
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