‘I cannot believe it of Hew,’ continued Jasper. ‘I have known him from a lad, and surely he would not hold the company of thieves and murderers, nor would Dunbar,’ said Jasper.
‘Who knows what company Hew favours, or Dunbar, or any of our friends, for that matter.’
‘So now we are to suspect everyone?’ said Jasper, his eyes darting to her.
‘Who is this Baron to you?’ said Maren, her voice sounding loud as her words dropped into the silence like stones clattering down a well.
Bryce came over and took her by the shoulders. ‘No one knows who this man really is, but he goes by the name of The Baron. What is known is that he started as a cattle thief, sheep too, coin, whatever he could lay his hands on. He gathered other evil men to do his work, and soon, there was a gang of them terrorising the farmers, merchants and travellers hereabouts. If anyone talked or got too close to uncovering his identity, the Baron would punish them by cutting out a tongue, taking a finger, or scarring their faces. Many Lairds lost livestock, and there were a few murders.’
‘And Callum? Why were you so concerned for him?’
‘My friend was tireless in tracking down the villains, so he became a target. They kidnapped his wife, Tara, to lure him to his death. They would have killed them both had we not received word of her whereabouts. She sent a message through an orphaned lad who came across her captivity.’
‘The strange little scrap holding her hand?’
‘Aye. The lad has a home with Callum now. It was through the lad that we managed to free Tara before she was hurt in any way and flush out most of the Baron’s gang. But he got away and fled to Durness, and we could not pursue him there. ‘Tis a lawless place, beyond God’s reach.’
‘Durness, you say.’
‘Aye, Maren, do you know it?’
‘No.’
‘Well, now the bastard seems to have returned to prey on these lands again. And Tara will be terrified that he might come for Callum and wreak his revenge. That is why we could not tarry at Raigmoor.’
‘I see,’ said Maren. Bryce’s tone twisted her heart and made her look down at her feet. She could not meet his eye.
‘So we must be vigilant and merciless in stamping out this scourge,’ said Bryce, squeezing her shoulders. ‘You need not worry, lass. You are safe, and this danger shall pass, I can assure you of that. But stay within these walls and do not go riding or venture out without my father or me. Promise me, Maren.’
‘I promise.’ Suddenly she was eager to be alone. ‘Bryce, I should like to go to my chambers and wash today’s dirt off.’
‘That is best. I will be up shortly.’ He bent and kissed her head and turned back to Jasper. No doubt they would be talking for hours about what had occurred – plotting, theorising between themselves as men do, keeping her protected but ignorant.
When she was outside the hall, Maren ran to her chamber. Once inside, she tore off her riding habit and tore free her hair. When the servant knocked on the door with a water pitcher, she took it and dismissed her. Then she set about rubbing off the day’s events. She put on a clean shift. It was floaty, and lacy, and she despised the smooth feel of the fine fabric against her skin, for it mocked her. She could scrub herself raw as much as she liked, but she was still unclean, for there was no way to scrub off one’s past.
Chapter Fifteen
Bryce’s face was solemn when he came to her room much later, yet he still teased. ‘Clean enough, my dear? I like this innocent look. It suits you. I don’t suppose you’d like to get dirty again to banish the day’s horrors.’ He winked.
‘Not a chance, so keep your distance, if you please,’ said Maren.
‘Very well,’ he said, stripping off his jacket and kerchief without taking his eyes off her. Bryce never pressed her on his desire. Yet she sensed it, simmering under the smiling surface. He was a man, after all, and were they not all the same?
‘Is Callum Ross in love with his wife, or is she a trophy?’ said Maren as Tara’s loveliness continued to vex her.
He frowned. ‘A trophy? Whatever do you mean?'
‘Is she a prize to show off, an ornament to place on his mantle.’
‘Tara is no trophy to Callum. She is the love of his life, and they are devoted to each other.’
Maren frowned as bitterness stirred. ‘But she is English.’
‘A cardinal sin in your eyes, I am sure. But what of it, if she makes him happy? It’s not like Callum is sharing his bed with a villainous redcoat. Why does it vex you?’
‘Because she must sympathise with the English, and they are but an occupying army. ‘Tis no willing union we are in with those monsters from the south. And besides, they seem ill-suited, for Callum is so taciturn and growling, and she looks so soft and ….’
‘Uncommonly bonnie,’ said Bryce, smiling and coming closer.
