Claimed by a Scottish Lord by Melody Thomas Read Free Book Online Page A

mountebank passed through here yesterday. He always stops here to let me look over any tomes he might have picked up.‖

    ―You gossip with the mountebank? He is a miscreant.‖

    ―But a well-traveled one, dear. He speaks to everyone. ‘Twould not be unusual for Friar Tucker to seek some form of mediation between Roxburghe and Hereford, though little good ‘twill do.‖ Mrs. Simpson stood with a swish of soft muslin. ―So you met the new earl of Roxburghe and you were not going to tell me? Most are curious what kind of man he has turned out to be.‖

    ―He is a freebooter,‖ she managed as indifferently as possible, as she walked to the chair to retrieve her hat. ―Quite at ease with his sins.‖

    ―Most powerful men are, dear. And I assure you, he is not a whimsy to feed a young girl‘s imagination. His sin goes deeper than most. He once tried to kill his own father.‖

    Rose paused in the middle of stuffing her hair beneath her cocked hat.

    ―Thirteen years ago, my husband and I were working a site near Chesters, which is very near Roxburghe lands,‖ Mrs. Simpson said. ―I became friends with the housekeeper at Stonehaven and heard rumors. All hush-hush. But after the incident, the young lord was gone.‖

    ―Why are you telling me this?‖

    Mrs. Simpson wrapped her leathery hands around Rose‘s. ―Be careful what you bring into your heart, Rose. Hate is a darkness that once acted upon blights the soul. Men such as Roxburghe can turn a young woman‘s head but beware the demon seed. He is the devil inside like his father before him.‖

    R uark sat in the noisy dining hall, the early evening sunset slanting through the arched windows at his back. The food had ceased coming an hour ago, though most of the men present had not noticed, the noise of their voices rising and falling as they fiercely argued. No women were present, having been removed when Angus Murdoch returned carrying Hereford‘s reply to the latest letter of negotiation, a lock of blood-caked hair, and a refusal to negotiate. He had arrived that afternoon with Ruark‘s uncle, Duncan, bringing back Hereford‘s demands and the grisly momento carried in a box, the current cause for the war cries.

    Angus‘s gaze went to Duncan, who stood with his shoulder braced against the window staring outside. Silence filled the old great hall. Duncan was a russet-haired giant among traditionally tall Kerr men. He had not spoken since his return.

    ―Hereford left Carlisle five days ago,‖ Duncan said. ―He is taking Jamie and Rufus and Gavin to Alnwick Castle.‖

    Alnwick was in Northumberland. Although the castle had fallen into disrepair since the days that Malcolm III of Scotland was killed there, in all Border warfare Alnwick was still one of the strongest fortresses on the English side. Rufus and Gavin Kerr were the two cousins captured with Jamie.

    ―The next gift we receive will no‘ be so benign,‖ Duncan said.

    A clansman down the long table slammed his fist down. ―And I say Hereford‘s actions can no‘ remain unchecked.‖ The speaker was Angus, a bear of a man in his fifties with a scar across his cheek that bespoke of his own years in the earl of Roxburghe‘s services. ―Strike while he thinks we are indecisive.‖

    ―Aye!‖ another shouted. ―Enough is enough, I say.‖

    ―We can no‘ give him the ransom he wants,‖ Angus said.

    ―Ninety thousand pounds Anglish sterling. No one has that kind of wealth,‖ another shouted. ―And what of Rufus and Gavin? Will Hereford remove one of their ears to go with that bloody lock of hair?‖

    Duncan folded his arms. ―We can prepare another response and spend yet another month awaiting his and this can go on for a year. I say fight.‖

    Hearty exclamations rose. All eyes turned to Ruark.

    Ruark had been listening in quiet fury to the back-and-forth talk, his legs stretched out in front of him, an empty plate to the side of his elbow.

    These were his father‘s allies