eel.
7
A T RAP?
Margaret grew drowsy in the sunlight and began to nod, but was roused by the sound of James and her uncle taking leave of one another. James appeared in the yard between her uncle’s kitchen and the tavern and headed straight for the archway between the two inn buildings, not bothering to look around. It was then that Margaret noticed there was no English soldier behind the tavern. Thinking perhaps he had withdrawn to a shady spot, she searched the close, but saw no sign of a soldier.
She found her uncle sitting, seemingly napping, near his kitchen fire despite the heat of the day, his bare feet propped on a bench. But as she approached him he said, ‘You’ve tidied all the rooms now, eh?’
‘I thought you were asleep.’ She glancedaround, thinking the guard might be in here, but her uncle was alone. ‘The soldier is gone.’
Murdoch chuckled as he sat up. ‘You’ll not find him in here.’
‘He’s not in the yard,’ Margaret said.
‘He is not.’ Murdoch’s grin stretched ear to ear.
‘What have you done?’
‘Made him welcome.’
‘If he’s not really gone, but he’s not in here …’ Puzzling over her uncle’s self-satisfied grin, she settled down beside Agrippa, who was curled into a ball. It did not take long for her to venture, ‘You’ve fed him a barrel of ale?’
Murdoch waggled his head side to side. ‘Not quite a barrel. He’s lying in the straw on the tavern floor, sleeping it off.’ It was evident he was proud of the prank.
Margaret thought him foolhardy. ‘You trust that he won’t report what you’ve done?’
‘Och, Maggie, it’s worth the risk to be free of prying eyes for an afternoon.’ He swung his feet down to the floor and stretched his arms overhead.
‘I saw James leave. Surely the English already know he is your partner.’
‘I’ve no doubt of that.’ Murdoch’s voice lilted with delight.
Margaret still did not understand why he thought it worth the risk. ‘Why did you need the guard drunk this afternoon?’
‘He was to make a list of all the items in theundercroft. A rare thing, a soldier who can write. I sat down with him to explain the order of things. One drink led to another, and he lay down to rest.’
‘You needed time to remove something.’
‘James did.’ Murdoch’s grin soured into a scowl. ‘In another day you’ll be gone, Maggie. What I do no longer concerns you.’
Margaret shook her head. ‘Another day? But there is still so much to do.’ Her hands were suddenly cold. ‘Has Roger said we leave tomorrow?’
Murdoch nodded solemnly. ‘He told Hal to have the horses ready after dark on the morrow.’
‘I’d heard nothing of this,’ Margaret cried, feeling a confusion of anger and panic. ‘I must speak with him. Where is he?’
‘He tells me naught, lass.’ Murdoch reached out, squeezed her shoulder. ‘To delay will not make it easier.’
He used to squeeze her shoulders thus when she had taken a tumble as a child, or been scolded. Courage, Maggie , he used to say. She wanted to stay here with him.
‘But the laundress has the bedding for washing,’ Margaret muttered to herself. ‘And we’ve not discovered who searched the undercroft.’ Her pulse pounded in her ears.
‘We may never find the intruder. As for the laundry, no one bides here now.’ Murdoch’s voice sounded as if it came across a great distance.
‘You bide here,’ Margaret said. ‘You need clean bedding.’
‘I sleep at Janet’s more than I do here. You need not worry about me, lass, or the bedding. It will be delivered whether you’re here or no.’
Margaret said nothing, almost choked by bile rising up from her roiling gut.
‘Och, Maggie.’ Murdoch’s hand was suddenly beneath her elbow. ‘Sit down, lass.’ He led her to a bench. ‘You’ve gone all pale. You can’t be with child already – Roger’s been here only a few days.’
‘No,’ she said softly. ‘I’m not with child.’ And if I were,
7
A T RAP?
Margaret grew drowsy in the sunlight and began to nod, but was roused by the sound of James and her uncle taking leave of one another. James appeared in the yard between her uncle’s kitchen and the tavern and headed straight for the archway between the two inn buildings, not bothering to look around. It was then that Margaret noticed there was no English soldier behind the tavern. Thinking perhaps he had withdrawn to a shady spot, she searched the close, but saw no sign of a soldier.
She found her uncle sitting, seemingly napping, near his kitchen fire despite the heat of the day, his bare feet propped on a bench. But as she approached him he said, ‘You’ve tidied all the rooms now, eh?’
‘I thought you were asleep.’ She glancedaround, thinking the guard might be in here, but her uncle was alone. ‘The soldier is gone.’
Murdoch chuckled as he sat up. ‘You’ll not find him in here.’
‘He’s not in the yard,’ Margaret said.
‘He is not.’ Murdoch’s grin stretched ear to ear.
‘What have you done?’
‘Made him welcome.’
‘If he’s not really gone, but he’s not in here …’ Puzzling over her uncle’s self-satisfied grin, she settled down beside Agrippa, who was curled into a ball. It did not take long for her to venture, ‘You’ve fed him a barrel of ale?’
Murdoch waggled his head side to side. ‘Not quite a barrel. He’s lying in the straw on the tavern floor, sleeping it off.’ It was evident he was proud of the prank.
Margaret thought him foolhardy. ‘You trust that he won’t report what you’ve done?’
‘Och, Maggie, it’s worth the risk to be free of prying eyes for an afternoon.’ He swung his feet down to the floor and stretched his arms overhead.
‘I saw James leave. Surely the English already know he is your partner.’
‘I’ve no doubt of that.’ Murdoch’s voice lilted with delight.
Margaret still did not understand why he thought it worth the risk. ‘Why did you need the guard drunk this afternoon?’
‘He was to make a list of all the items in theundercroft. A rare thing, a soldier who can write. I sat down with him to explain the order of things. One drink led to another, and he lay down to rest.’
‘You needed time to remove something.’
‘James did.’ Murdoch’s grin soured into a scowl. ‘In another day you’ll be gone, Maggie. What I do no longer concerns you.’
Margaret shook her head. ‘Another day? But there is still so much to do.’ Her hands were suddenly cold. ‘Has Roger said we leave tomorrow?’
Murdoch nodded solemnly. ‘He told Hal to have the horses ready after dark on the morrow.’
‘I’d heard nothing of this,’ Margaret cried, feeling a confusion of anger and panic. ‘I must speak with him. Where is he?’
‘He tells me naught, lass.’ Murdoch reached out, squeezed her shoulder. ‘To delay will not make it easier.’
He used to squeeze her shoulders thus when she had taken a tumble as a child, or been scolded. Courage, Maggie , he used to say. She wanted to stay here with him.
‘But the laundress has the bedding for washing,’ Margaret muttered to herself. ‘And we’ve not discovered who searched the undercroft.’ Her pulse pounded in her ears.
‘We may never find the intruder. As for the laundry, no one bides here now.’ Murdoch’s voice sounded as if it came across a great distance.
‘You bide here,’ Margaret said. ‘You need clean bedding.’
‘I sleep at Janet’s more than I do here. You need not worry about me, lass, or the bedding. It will be delivered whether you’re here or no.’
Margaret said nothing, almost choked by bile rising up from her roiling gut.
‘Och, Maggie.’ Murdoch’s hand was suddenly beneath her elbow. ‘Sit down, lass.’ He led her to a bench. ‘You’ve gone all pale. You can’t be with child already – Roger’s been here only a few days.’
‘No,’ she said softly. ‘I’m not with child.’ And if I were,
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