“Readying for battle, are you?”
Graham chuckled. “One must always be ready for battle, Angus. You know this, although I believe your judgement of late may be clouded.”
“Is that so?” Angus crossed his arms over his chest. He was becoming a little fed up with everyone’s opinions of his actions of late. He was not sure he was interested in more criticism.
“Aye. This Stewart business has the potential to end badly. You have been in a sour mood for weeks, and adding this prisoner to the mix has only made it worse.”
“What would you have me do, Graham? Sit back and allow the man to take everything? We have been through this many times.”
“It is not your dealings with the Stewart I am concerned about. That man deserves everything you can throw at him and more. It is your dealings with the lass that concern me. She does not belong here. Everyone says she is a bad omen.”
“I did not think you subject to idle gossip mongering.”
“I am not. But when tongues start wagging, work does not get done. Surely you realize this?”
“I do, and I have asked John to share the basic facts with the servants in order to satisfy them. I expect their loyalty, and they trust me to make decisions worthy of that trust.”
Graham shook his head.
“You do not agree?” Angus asked. He grew tired of this.
“I believe you did the right thing by asking John to handle it, aye. But the fact of the matter remains that Lady Annabella should not be here. The more I think on it, the more it troubles me. What we did makes us no better than the Stewart.”
Angus could not have been more shocked if Graham had struck him. What was worse was the realization that Angus did not necessarily disagree with him. She had certainly created a complication he needed to handle with care.
“There are few men who could say something like that to me and get away with it.”
Graham stopped sharpening his blade and placed it aside. “I apologize, my lord. It is not my wish to displease his lordship.”
Graham’s formal address served to add fuel to Angus’s bad mood. “If you choose to address me in such a formal manner, you can be about your duties and keep your opinions to yourself in the future.”
Graham’s face fell and he looked genuinely hurt. He stood and nodded. “Very well, my lord. I shall check to see if any messages have arrived.” With that, he left the armoury.
Angus slammed his fist hard on the table. How easy it was for others to judge his actions without having to bear the weight of them. If only he could seek his father’s counsel in this matter.
Angus strode to the stable and mounted the first saddled horse he came across.
He needed to ride and clear his head. After he crossed the isthmus, he tore off across the open road north. He had no destination in mind, just a need to feel the horse pounding the road beneath him.
After an hour of riding, Angus slowed his horse into a trot and guided him to a stream for a well-deserved drink.
The air had warmed considerably in the May sun, and Angus gazed around him. The fields had already turned green with new growth, and birds sang in the distance. The trees and grass and birds of this land did not care who ruled, only that those who did took care to ensure life thrived. How had everything become so complicated? For generations, Angus’s family had cared for this land and its people. What did a Scot, like King James, who had spent most of his life among Sassenachs know about life in the Western Isles? How could he possibly mean to rule people he did not understand?
He could not.
That was the only conclusion Angus needed to come to. His resolve grew as he mulled over the faces of those who made Islay the hub of the Western Isles, and the MacDonalds her regents. No Stewart would lay claim to this land while Angus drew breath. As for Lady Annabella, he would allow her scheme to play out, and he would enjoy watching her do it. When the Stewart came, his clansmen would be ready.
CHAPTER NINE
As her quill scratched across the parchment, Annabella chose her words carefully, but deliberately. She had dragged the table over to the window and pushed the shutters out. The view from up here was breathtaking. From this height she could see other islands and mountains in the distance. A few times she caught herself staring out the window instead of writing her message.
She could not help but wonder if the king and queen had even travelled this far west. Was it not the same for King Henry at home in England? A youngster still, yes, so probably not. Should monarchs be required to visit the places over which they presumed to rule?
Annabella wrote the words ‘come for me without an army and they will release me’ in invisible ink at the bottom of the parchment. She then drew a rose in black ink at the top left corner of the message to indicate to Joan where it was. She dipped the quill into the inkwell and tapped it twice on its edge then wrote, ‘I am unharmed and treated well. Please reply with word of how you and the babe fare, my blessed cousin. Annabella.’
Just as she signed and folded her letter, she viewed a lone rider cresting the hills just beyond the isthmus. If the size and obvious strength of the man did not give away his identity, his flaxen hair certainly did. Angus rode his horse with perfect poise, as though he and the beast were one creature instead of man and animal.
She watched him until he rode through the gates and across the bailey.
