Hunted (The Scottish Falconers Book 2) (12 page)

July 1652

Lowlands Scotland

Dunnottar Castle

A steady summer rain dripped off the leaves of the trees and created rivulets of water between the rocks and clumps of hardy grass. Isobel shivered and pulled her cloak on over her clothes. Summer never got very warm here in the lowlands of Scotland. She had long ago given up wearing a skirt on this journey home. It tangled up between her legs and made walking that much more challenging.

“There’s nothing more to be done until tomorrow, Belle.” Derek’s arms wrapped around her from behind and he put his cheek against hers as they surveyed the ruined cottage.

All of them had worked to clear the burned debris from inside the still-standing rock walls of Catriona’s childhood home. During their many discussions on the road back to Dunnottar, it had been decided that they would move into the undamaged kitchen that belonged to Catriona and work to rebuild her family home while they waited for Derek to do his part in getting William back to his parents.

“Aye, but ’tis crowded inside that small place.” Isobel stroked his exposed forearms with her palms. “Why are ye not cold in just yer shirtsleeves?” She felt him shrug.

“Just used to it, I suppose.”

“I’ve lived here all my life, and I’m not used to this cold.” She pressed her body against his warmth.

He shrugged again. “Maybe ’tis the reason men are hairier than women; keeps us warm so we can keep you warm.”

Isobel glanced down at his forearms with their relatively light covering of hair. “Nay, it’s your hot blood coursing through your body that keeps you warm.”

He kissed her cheek and chuckled. “Likely that’s true.”

“You’d best release me. Da has been tolerating more and more between us, but I dinna like to test him further.”

A chuckle rumbled through him before he opened his arms, and she stepped away and turned to face him.

“This will be my last few hours with you and your family before I go inside Dunnottar.”

A crease appeared between his dark brows, but she kept her hands to herself rather than try to smooth his worry away.

“I’ve faith in ye, Derek Sinclair. Ye will be bringing us those uniforms before they ken what happened.”

“Absolutely.” He glanced around the clearing. “If you’ll excuse me for a bit, I’d like to speak to your Da to get an idea of Dunnottar’s layout and where they might place the most guards.”

Although she could answer that question just as well as her father and brothers, she sensed that he really wanted to speak to Da.

“Da and Fin went to construct a temporary mews for the falcons. I think they are behind the kitchen. They mean to use the back wall of the kitchen for one wall of the bird shelter.”

He nodded and she watched him walk away, pick up his coat and slip it on, and then move on hunched against the wetness, which had slowed to a cold drizzle.

With a sigh, Isobel turned back to stare at the cottage ruined by the soldiers. The English army seemed an unpredictable lot. Would they welcome Derek’s return to the ranks or execute him as a deserter? Her life would be as black as the scorched timbers without him.

* * *

Sleep eluded Derek. He sat up. The entire Graham family and William lay snoring loudly side by side on the kitchen floor, like so many long rolls on a bakery pan.

A small sliver of moonlight came in through the window, which was opened to allow some air to cool the many bodies. Derek’s gaze followed that moonbeam to where it fell across Belle’s lovely face. A strand of red hair had fallen across her cheek as she lay on her side sound asleep. The day had been full of hard work, and they all slept like the dead … all but him.

Despite the company of these people, Derek felt alone. No one could go with him now to face his destiny. From his position near the door, the first to die should someone dangerous enter, he could only see Belle; he could not reach her. Next to him, Fin snorted in his sleep and rolled over. To Fin’s left, Boyd slept flat on his back. Rabbie and Catriona were curled together with William close to Cat. Next, the farthest from the door, and the farthest from him, lay Iosbel.

Derek decided to leave for Dunnottar now.

After lifting his confiscated English redcoat from the peg that also held a much-used apron, Derek bent and picked up his boots.

He took one last look at the slumbering Graham falconers, the people who had save his life … twice. Then he silently blew a kiss to an oblivious Isobel.
Farewell, mo leanan. Be safe, my Belle.

* * *

Derek had been gone for three weeks, and Isobel couldn’t abide the wait any longer.

Much had transpired since he left like a thief in the night with no word of farewell. Catriona’s cottage had been rebuilt by Fin, Boyd, Rabbie, and Isobel, with some help from little William. Catriona had been instructed to refrain from any strenuous work from the moment her husband found out that she was carrying his child.

They had all moved into the cottage, which had been subdivided into three bedrooms and a common area. Rabbie and Catriona had their own room. Fin and Boyd shared a room, and Isobel shared a room with William. For now, they slept on the floor, but soon they would have wooden beds and furniture, thanks to the trees in Dunnottar woods.

“I’m going out to hunt for fledglings today, now that we have a mews to house more birds.” Isobel announced to the family at breakfast.

“Alone, Belle? I willna allow that.” Boyd responded between bites of the fine bread Catriona baked fresh every day.

“Rabbie canna go with me, he needs to stay close to Catriona. I’ll be fine alone.” Belle struggled to keep her anger under control. Her brothers could go out alone, but she could not.

“I’ll go out with ye, Belle. Can ye do without me for a day, Da?” Fin grinned at her.

Boyd’s gaze flicked from one son to the next and back again. Then his blue eyes landed on Isobel.

Can he see into my head? Did he guess at my plan to go into Dunnottar and look for Derek? Did Fin guess?

“Aye, I can. Belle, you may hunt for fledglings if Fin goes with ye.”

Isobel sighed. Sometimes she hated the restrictions placed on women. “Thank ye, Da.”

“What’s this? No thank ye for your loving brother?” Fin jabbed her in the side with his elbow.

“Thank ye, Finlay.” Isobel knew that her brother wasn’t fond of anyone using his full first name.

He gave her a slanted look. “On the other hand, perhaps I willna go with ye afterall …”

“Thank ye,
Fin
.”

“Much better.” He turned to their father. “I’ll look after her, Da.”

Isobel began to clear away the bowls and remnants from breakfast, bringing them to the wash bucket where Catriona washed them in hot, soapy water.

“Are you going to look for Derek?” Catriona whispered without raising her head from her task.

“How did ye ken?” Isobel kept her head down too and spoke softly. The men were occupied on the opposite side of the room and paid no attention.

“’Tis what I would do too. Be careful, Belle.”

They exchanged quick smiles and fell silent for a moment as Catriona washed and Isobel dried the precious pewter dishes they had purchased at Crathes Castle.

“Are ye scairt about the baby?” Isobel glanced at her sister-in-law’s midsection, which showed no evidence of a baby.

“A bit. I’ve never done this before.”

“Well, I’d hope not.”

They both giggled like schoolgirls.

“By the time the baby comes, I hope we can get a midwife from Dunnottar to help ye, Cat.”

Catriona’s green eyes showed her anxiety all too clearly. “I’ve no doubt that I willna be alone.” She covered Isobel’s hand with hers. “I’ve a braw sister to help me as well.”

“Aye, I’ve no experience save watching a dog we had once give birth. It didna look verra pleasant for her.”

“Probably not, but the dog survived. Aye?”

“Och, aye. Rabbie’s dog Hamish was one of her pups. She lived a good long life, and Bree was a verra guid mother too. Just as ye will be, Cat.”

“I pray you are right.”

“Of course she’s right, Cat.” Rabbie came up behind Catriona and wrapped his arms around her waist then buried his face between her neck and shoulder. “You’ll be an excellent mother.”

Isobel shook out her cloth and laid it out to dry on the table. “I’ll be leaving now. Where is Fin?”

“He went to gather up the falconry hoods, fledgling cage, and bait meat.” Rabbie’s voice was muffled by his wife’s shoulder. She giggled and put a hand on her husband’s dark head.

Isobel headed for the door without looking back at the happy couple. Envy and sadness made her heart hurt, and she resolved to keep these emotions to herself. Besides making her feel as though she was being petty, she didn’t want them to think her self-centered as well.

Heading to her room, Isobel picked up a bundle she had prepared and went back out. Casting her glance around the room, she saw everyone was occupied and scurried to the door. She wanted no questions.

Fin, carrying a sack over one shoulder, met her outside the cottage door. “Are ye ready to go?”

“Aye.”

“I’ve got the falconry supplies. What have ye got in yer sack?” Fin fell in beside her, matching her stride.

Damn yer quick mind, Fin.

“A change of clothing.”

“Why?”

He looked her up and down. She wore her normal boy’s breeches and shirt. The July air was pleasant, but the night could be cool. She decided to try that excuse.

“’Twill likely be cool this evening.”

Fin’s twin red brows rose. “Do ye expect us to be out that long? We’ve been able to find fledglings quicker than that. The cliffs are ripe for the picking.”

She didn’t respond, so they walked in silence over the rocky ground as they headed toward Dunnottar Castle. Coincidentally, the best place to capture peregrine fledglings was along the way to the castle.

“Belle?” Fin’s voice was gentle.

She mentally braced herself. “Aye?”

“Ye dinna really wish to hunt fledglings, do ye?”

She didn’t look at her brother; she just kept walking. “Why do you say that?”

“Because I ken ye love Derek, and he hasna been heard from for weeks.”

“And?”

“And I think ye plan to lose me and go to Dunnottar to seek him out.”

Isobel stopped dead. Fin stopped too. She looked up to meet her brother’s eyes, so irritatingly filled with compassion and understanding. “No one can pull the wool over your eyes, Fin.”

“Am I right then?”

She dropped her gaze to her feet. “Aye. Are you planning to stop me?”

“No.”

Isobel jerked her head up so fast that her neck bones creaked. “Really? Why? I ken ye don’t care overmuch for Derek.”

Fin’s grin went from ear to ear. “Because I do care about you, and I’m in need of a little adventure. Building a cottage is important but verra dull.”

Isobel smiled now. “Well, I thank you for your help, brother.”

He nodded at her sack. “Do ye have some kind of plan?”

“That I do. I hope it works.”

As it happened, Isobel didn’t need to use her excuse of visiting a relative to enter Dunnottar Castle, the gates were open to all for reasons she had not yet discovered.

She and Fin had changed into normal peasant attire, and Fin had decided to affect a limp to appear less of a threat. As they climbed the steep approach to the imposing castle gate, they were joined by more and more common folk from the surrounding area. Because the Graham falconers had resided inside the castle walls, they did not recognize anyone, and no one appeared to know them.

“Did ye hear, lass,” an older woman to Isobel’s right spoke while they awaited entrance, “they’re going to flog a thief and execute one of their own. Be nice to see them kill an English soldier who probably killed a Scots.” The woman spoke in hushed tones to avoid arousing the ire of the English guards.

Isobel gasped aloud, and Fin grabbed her arm in response. “Hush, Belle.”

She ignored him. “Why are they executing an English soldier?” Following the woman’s lead, she kept her voice low.

“Desertion. Lovely, aye? Canna say I could blame the lad. I’d want to get out too.” The woman chuckled softly.

English redcoats waved the crowd through the gates. “Step lively. The flogging and execution should begin at noon. Come see how the English will rule this land.”

One guard gave Fin a shove, despite his obvious limp.

Isobel reached out and grabbed Fin’s arm just as he uttered a low warning animalistic growl. “No, Fin! Not now! It could be Derek’s execution.”

Silently, she urged the throngs of people to move faster. Her heart pounded and her knees went weak with fear. She may never speak to Derek Sinclair again. The thought of his death brought the sting of tears to her eyes, and the odor of unwashed bodies packed together made her stomach uneasy.

“Hold my hand, Belle.” Fin took her hand and, abandoning his limp in the midst of his own countrymen, proceeded to use his size to carefully shove them forward.

Before long, Fin led her out of the tunnels and into the gray daylight. Clouds bumped across the sky, some dark with impending rain.

The solemn, slow beat of a drum reached their ears. The doomed men would meet their fate soon.

Belle tore her hand from Fin’s grasp, picked up her skirts, and ran. Her boots splashed through the mud until she reached the grassy courtyard. This was Dunnottar Castle. This had been her home from her birth until the siege. Nothing was the same. The place was familiar and alien at the same time.

She ran past blackened ruins of houses and buildings she had once known and small new wooden structures built by the English. Weaving around groups of people, all headed in the same direction, she paid them little heed.

Derek. He was her goal.

A neat and tidy line of redcoat-wearing English soldiers stood with their backs to the gathering crowd and with bows in their hands. The slow drum beat continued. A man wearing the same uniform trousers as his comrades, but in shirtsleeves with no coat, stood lashed to a center pole with his hands behind his back. Brown wavy hair spilled over the top of a white blindfold.

The English officer, standing slightly to the right of the line of soldiers, raised his arm with a sword in his hand.

“No! No!” Isobel screamed, but no one heard over the increased tempo of the drumbeat.

“Ready!” the officer commanded.

Isobel pushed past a man who threw her an irritated look.

“Aim!”

Her entire body trembled as she struggled to get to the English soldiers. She had no plan as to how she would stop them, but determination and wild fear drove her on. One last person blocked her way …

“Fire!” The officer swept his arm down, slashing the air with the silver sword glinting in a stray ray of sunshine.

The five men loosed their arrows at the same moment, and the brown-haired soldier slumped forward against his bonds.

“Derek!” Isobel had reached the edge of the crowd.

The English officer turned at her scream.

She stared into a pair of familiar brown eyes. Derek had commanded the soldier’s death.

* * *

“Belle!”

He gazed into the face of his beloved to see her eyes wide with horror and revulsion.

How could she be here now, of all times?

He took a step toward her, but she backed away, holding a hand up to stop him.

“Please. I can explain.” Desperation filled his voice, but he was powerless to stop it.

“No! I can take no more of your lies.”

“But—”

Belle turned away from him, into the arms of her big, red-haired brother.

“You!” Fin’s voice boomed.

Instinctively, Derek raised his sword. The men under his command broke formation and assembled behind him with their bows loaded and drawn.

Fin wrapped an arm around his trembling sister. “Planning to kill us too?”

“No, I—” Derek sheathed his sword and turned to the soldiers to bark out his commands. He pointed to two soldiers. “Cut down the body and take him away for burial. The rest of you, go back to your posts.”

He turned. “Belle, I need—” But she was gone. Fin had his arm around her, practically carrying her away.

No explanation in the world could convince someone who would not stay to hear it.

The spectators had gone now; they wanted to witness the flogging of the thief. Derek realized that punishment was necessary for a civilized world, but he hated having to hand it out. His commander, Major General Thomas Morgan knew this about him and used it against him. Because Derek had been able to show the ugly scar on his hip, inflicted during the skirmish, he’d had proof that he’d been wounded. Still, he’d been away too long recovering and needed to pay a penalty for shirking his duty as an officer. Derek would not be put to death, but he could be forced to command an execution for the murder of a fellow soldier.

Derek walked to the blood-spattered post. The solider, George Abercrombie, was gone now. Putting a hand on top of the post, he bowed his head and prayed for George’s soul and for Derek’s own plight.

He didn’t turn to watch Belle disappear from view, the pain was too strong. She was gone from his life, likely forever.

* * *

Only Fin’s strength kept Isobel on her feet and moving across the courtyard, through the tunnels, and out of Dunnottar’s gate. Suddenly, she couldn’t bear his confining grip around her a moment longer. With a mighty shove, she broke away from her startled brother and ran down the steeply inclined road that carried her away from Derek and all horrible English soldiers.

Gravity and momentum swept her down the dirt road until her speed and emotions got the upper hand.

Letting out a shriek and a sob, Isobel’s feet tangled in her skirts and down she went. Making no effort to stop herself, she rolled down the last part of the incline and came to a stop in a shuddering heap.

Dust and dirt came out of her mouth as she choked and coughed and sobbed even louder. She didn’t care who heard. She didn’t care who had to step around her. She cared for nothing at this moment. Derek broke her heart and it hurt.

Did he ever intend to help get William reunited with Sir and Lady Ogilvie? Until now, the shock of seeing Derek order a man’s death had wiped out all thoughts of the Ogilvies and poor little Willie.

Feeling, rather than seeing someone looming over her as she lay in the path, Isobel dashed away the tears on her dusty face and raised her head.

“He’s a bastard, ye ken.”

“Aye, Fin. I do.”

Her brother held out a big hand. She took it, and he yanked her to her feet.

“But we have to go back and find him.” Isobel brushed the dirt from her skirt.

“I’m not surprised, but why?” He handed her a clean handkerchief.

She eyed it with raised brows before accepting the small white cloth.

He shrugged. “Got it at Crathes. I liked it.”

The Graham men were not high bred people and never carried a handkerchief.

“’Tis nice, embroidered too.” Holding it spread out between her hands, Isobel admired the initials F.G., which were sewn in tight, close stitches in one corner.

“Here, ’tis too nice to soil.” She handed it back. “The dirt may stain it.” Bending at the waist, she used the hem of her skirt to wipe off her face.

“I’ll put it to ye again, ye stubborn woman. Why do we need to go back in?” Fin shoved the handkerchief back in his pocket.

“For William. The wee lad needs his da and mamm.”

Neither of them had been paying any attention to the other people coming up or down the hill to Dunnottar Castle, and no one paid them any mind either, until a distinct jingling noise caught Isobel’s attention.

Lifting her head, she looked over Fin’s shoulder to see a horrifying sight. A line of redcoats carrying lethal pikes jogged down the path between the Scots, parting them like the Red Sea.

“Fin.” She put a hand on her brother’s arm.

“Aye?” He raised his head and saw her expression. In one fluid movement, he had his knife in his hand, turned, and was ready to fight.

But it was too late. Six English soldiers surrounded the brother and sister.

The lead soldier barked out, “Is your name Graham?”

For a crazy second, Isobel wanted to say no, but Fin answered before she could. “What business is that of yours?”

“You’ll do well to change your tone there, Graham. The English are bloody well in charge here, and we have orders to bring back a red-haired man and his red-haired sister, both by the name of Graham.” He gestured with his sharp pike toward Dunnottar. “Turn yourselves around like good Scottish citizens and head inside the castle walls.”

Fin made a growling noise, and Isobel could sense he was in no mood to comply. Before anyone could move, she stepped between her brother and the soldier. “Why do ye want us back inside? You could at least tell us that much.”

“We were sent to escort you. That’s all you need to know. Orders is orders.” He bobbed his head toward the castle. “Now go.”