Page 3 of Savage Kilted Highlander

CHAPTER THREE

Roxburghshire, Scottish Lowlands, the lands of Clan Kerr

“Who are those lassies?” Bane Graham asked the pie-seller standing next to him, quickly swallowing the mouthful of mutton pie he had just purchased and bitten into. He was forced to raise his voice to be heard above the clamour of the excited crowd surrounding them. It was the first Monday after Easter, and the high-spirited local villagers, eager to celebrate the end of lent’s deprivations, had crammed themselves inside the main courtyard of Castle Ferniehurst, at the invitation of their clan leader, the powerful Ewan Kerr.

All the folk seemed keen to sample the strong ale, hot pies, honey cakes, and many other delicacies on sale at the temporary market stalls which had been set up against the courtyard’s inner walls. Bane thought it a stroke of good fortune that today, despite being a stranger in those parts, he had been able to pass through the gates and join the throng inside unchecked by the guard. Having merged into the crowd, he stayed alert, hoping at last to get a glimpse of his so-far elusive quarry.

However, his hopes were in vain. But then he noticed the crowd suddenly quietening, and the people surrounding the pie-stall paused in their activities, turning to stare at something. Taller than most, Bane looked with ease above the sea of heads and saw a party of four women emerging from the castle keep, closely escorted by a group of armed soldiers.

His curiosity piqued, his hopes rising, he watched fixedly as the women and their escort headed for the stalls. “They’re attractin’ a lot of attention,” he added.

“That’s Laird Kerr’s daughter and her maids,” the pie-seller replied.

Bane’s heart leaped with excitement. This was what he had been waiting for. “His daughter, eh?” he said, doing his best to sound casual. “What’s her name?” He knew her name as well as his own, but he wanted confirmation that it was her.

“Lady Agnes,” the pie-seller told him.

“Oh? Which one is she?” He continued eating the pie, though his heart was thumping in his chest with excitement. At last, I’ll get a good look at her!

The pie-seller gestured vaguely. “The one in the middle in the green dress, the pale one with the auburn hair.”

Bane looked, and he suddenly choked on the pie crust, unexpectedly struck by the girl’s beauty. He pounded his chest with his fist until he could swallow, finally muttering, “Aye, I see her.”

“That’s Lady Agnes,” the pie-seller confirmed. “What’s it tae ye anyway, stranger?” he added, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as he looked up at Bane, who stood a good head taller than him.

“Nae particular reason. I’ve just heard a lot of folks speakin’ about Laird Kerr’s precious only child since I arrived here, and I was curious tae get a look at her and see what all the fuss is about,” Bane lied smoothly, not taking his eyes from the smiling girl as she passed by with her escort. Her lovely smile was gentle, the movements of her slender body graceful. But despite her smile, which appeared rather fixed, Bane detected an air of sadness about her which puzzled him.

She has everything in life a lassie could ever wish for, a rich powerful faither who dotes on her from what I hear. And she’s beautiful to boot. What can she have tae be sad about?

His interest in Lady Agnes Kerr’s feelings was short-lived. They were of no consequence to him. She was less an individual person with her own thoughts, emotions, and dreams than a means to an end, so he shrugged off the thought. “They were right about one thing. She’s a bonny wee lassie, that’s for sure,” he added truthfully.

Indeed, in Bane’s eyes, Lady Agnes, with her willowy figure and flawless complexion, seemed to embody all the ideals of feminine beauty a red-blooded man could ever ask for. He watched entranced as the bright April sunlight played upon her long wavy hair, igniting it with the myriad flaming tints of autumn leaves. As she and her maids browsed the stalls, she positively radiated a girlish innocence that touched Bane’s heart. Seeing her, he could not help feeling a pang of guilt for the fate he had in store for her. He gave himself a mental shake and ruthlessly crushed it.

“Aye, she’s a beauty all right,” the pie-man agreed, seemingly mollified by Bane’s casual response as he too looked over at the laird’s daughter. “Braw as ye may be, dinnae bother gettin’ any ideas above yer station as far as she’s concerned, laddie,” he warned with a gruff laugh.

Bane gave a small, deprecating chuckle in return, his gaze still fixed on the girl. “Ach, I’m under nay illusions there. Such a fine lassie as she, a laird’s daughter, wouldnae spare so much as a glance for the likes of me, a poor, simple blacksmith.”

The pie-man nodded and turned to serve another customer. “Aye, true enough. A fella can dream though. But drink yer fill of her while ye have the chance, man, for this is likely as close as ye or I will ever get tae her.”

“Oh, why’s that?” Bane asked, stuffing the last of the pie into his mouth. He chewed without tasting it, interested only in keeping Lady Agnes in his sights and his informant’s reply as he swallowed and licked his fingers before wiping them carelessly on his trews.

“Because the laird treats her as though she were made of glass. Ye’re lucky tae catch even a glimpse of her. She seldom leaves the castle at all, and he never lets her out of his sight without an armed guard,” the pie-man explained.

“Is that so?” Bane replied, hiding his disappointment at the news. It did not suit his purposes at all. His mind turning, he continued following the progress of the pretty auburn head as it bobbed along. Lady Agnes and her party moved slowly along the wide swathe carved by their escort among the shoppers and stopped to look at a stall selling fabrics. “But surely, she likes tae ride out in the forest with her ladies now and then or walk about the fields and woods when the weather’s fine, eh? The scenery around the castle is awful pretty, now spring’s here,” he said hopefully.

The pie-men shook his balding head. “Nae as often as ye’d think. As I say, the laird’s very protective of her. Some would say too protective. She lives a lonely life, tae be sure, and wherever she goes, a bunch of guards go as well.” He began to unpack and arrange some more of his wares as new customers approached.

Bane tried not to frown. “Och, well, at least I’ve seen how bonny she is. I ken what everyone’s talkin’ about now,” he replied with a disinterested shrug. He noticed that many of the shoppers had sated their interest in the laird’s daughter now and were returning to their errands. “Nice talkin’ tae ye. That pie was very tasty,” he said, pushing his tall frame away from the pie stall and nodding a farewell to his informant as he strode away. He was grateful to the man, who had no idea how useful he had been, even if the information Bane had wormed out of him had not been exactly what he wanted to hear.

Bane wandered casually after Lady Agnes’ party, pretending to browse the goods on offer here and there, trying to get a better look at her. He did not want to make any foolish mistakes in identifying her and ruin his plans. But in the end, he was forced to give up. As the pie-man had warned him, all his attempts to get closer to her failed. Her armed escort was vigilance itself, making sure she was always enclosed within a ring of steel.

He wondered why Laird Kerr was so protective of the lassie. Did he fear someone might have reason tae hurt her? It seemed a reasonable assumption. One didnae get tae be as powerful as him without makin’ a lot of enemies, and some could have a mind to strike at him through her.

Like me.

Deciding he needed peace and quiet to think about what he had discovered and how he could overcome the obstacle to expedite his plan, Bane left the market. He pushed his way through the throng and out of the castle gates. Once outside, he went to fetch his horse, which he had left tethered to a nearby post, mounted it and headed along the main road leading way from the castle, through a tract of moorland bordered by thick forest. He made for his temporary camp, located in a secluded spot within the forest. After following the busy highway for about half a mile, he surreptitiously branched off, turning the horse down a narrow track leading into the depths of the forest. He rode slowly among the trees, doubling back on himself, until he reached the hollow where he was camping. He had chosen it because it was the perfect observation point for keeping watch on the Ferniehurst Castle.

He watered the horse at the small burn nearby until it had drunk its fill, then tethered it to nearby tree. He took off the saddle and replaced it with a blanket so the beast could rest in comfort. He did not plan on moving very far anytime soon, for there was much to consider. Leaving the horse to enjoy its nosebag of oats, he slapped its flank affectionately and went to see to his own needs.