Chapter Fourteen
Lord Hamilton was enjoying the comforts of Willby castle and the discomfort of his hosts. He smiled as he gnashed his teeth against a quail’s leg and looked out upon the dismal hall. It was a crumbling place and seeing the castle's condition brought Lord Hamilton great comfort, for it was clear to him that Lord Willby was still just as broke as he had been a few years ago. That meant Lord Hamilton still had complete control over him, and that was the way he liked things.
“More wine, Milord?” a servant asked, standing a careful few feet away from Lord Hamilton’s bulbous frame. He could see the nervous eyes and the frail frame of the servant girl, and he smiled with a wicked sneer to see the fear he imparted on all of those around him.
“Don’t ask, just pour!” he barked and snickered to see her jump.
“Yes, Milord,” she said, shaking a bit. She filled his wine and backed away as quick as she could, and Lord Hamilton ogled her backside a bit as she retreated.
“Too thin,” he muttered to himself and took another hearty bite of quail. The servant walked out of the hall, and Walter passed her as he came in, nearly bumping into her with his clumsiness.
“Milord,” Walter said, bowing his head as he approached the table where Lord Hamilton had his gout-ridden foot propped up among the bowls of foods he snacked on.
“What the devil do you want, Walter?” Lord Hamilton asked, casting a look his way as he discarded the quail bone onto the stone floor.
“I’ve just come to see how you are faring, Milord,” Walter said awkwardly, stepping carefully between the various food scraps that littered the space all around Lord Hamilton.
“Oh, have you?” Lord Hamilton asked mockingly.
“Yes, erm,” Walter squirmed, “Also to inquire about Sir Simon.”
“Ah,” Lord Hamilton said, rolling his eyes, “you do not agree with my course of action?”
“Well, it is as I was saying in York, Milord,” Walter said, becoming visibly more uncomfortable with every passing second.
“And what were you saying?” Lord Hamilton asked, raising his eyebrows. “Oh, that’s right, that she may be in France, of all places.”
“Or anywhere, Milord,” Walter said. “It’s just, to take armed men into Scotland, it could be perceived very poorly.”
“When did I care about perception, Walter?” Lord Hamilton asked, pushing a plate aside with his ailing foot and wincing slightly at the effort.
“But Milord, it just seems such a risk,” Walter forced out. “The ink of the truce is not yet dry.”
“Sit, Walter,” Lord Hamilton commanded, and the squeamish man sank down onto a nearby bench, casting his eyes downward. “Look around you.”
“Milord?”
“Look around you,” Lord Hamilton repeated, waving his wine cup in gesture. “Look at this place.”
“What of it, Milord?” Walter asked, glancing about at the beams and the stone floors. “It is a hall.”
“It is a poor excuse for a hall.” Lord Hamilton snickered. “Lord Willby has no money. He could never afford to send that wench to France for schooling, despite telling us as much. No, I would wager it wasn’t even his idea to send her away. One of the brothers, the eldest one most likely. A headstrong pup if I ever saw one,” Lord Hamilton interrupted himself to take a long drink of wine. “Where are our hosts anyways?”
“They are about,” Walter said, glancing over his shoulder at the yard through the doors of the hall. “I am sure they will be with you shortly.”
“Hmph,” Lord Hamilton snorted. “One of those buggers went against me, and now they are all scrambling to adopt the lie. France. Hah!” Lord Hamilton pounded his fist against the arm of the chair and spilled a splash of wine out across the floor. “No, they do not have the means.”
“But why Scotland, Milord?” Walter asked, his head swiveling back around. “To send armed men, so many, it could be seen as an act of war!”
“Do not raise your voice at me!” Lord Hamilton snapped, and Walter shrunk back down into the bench, diminishing just as fast as he had projected himself.
“Of course, Milord,” he whispered.
“The closest castle is in Scotland,” Lord Hamilton sneered. “They will have thought her out of my reach, up there in the wretched North. But they will have been wrong. McGowan castle is the nearest point they would have thought safe, I’m sure of it. Anyone South of the Firth would give her up, wouldn’t they?”
“I suppose,” Walter said, going along with him.
“If she’s up there, Simon will find her,” Lord Hamilton said, drinking again. “I’m sure of it. I’ve been at this game a long time.”
