Candace Robb - A Cruel Courtship

The moment was interrupted by knocking at the door. The butler emerged from somewhere in the hall — Andrew wondered how he had managed to be so invisible — and opened the door to a tiny woman.

‘I would sit with my son for a while,’ she said.

Maggie nodded to the butler, ‘Evota is welcome, John.’

As the woman entered the room she noticed Andrew and almost stumbled. While she gazed on him he was struck by the hardness of her eyes, as if she had closed them against intruders. He wondered what had made her so fearful of others.

Ada joined them. ‘Maggie will tell me all you’ve told her, I know, but I must ask how you knew we were here, Andrew.’

‘Sir Simon Montagu had a word with me last night.’

Ada winced at the mention of his name.

‘Simon,’ said Maggie. ‘I hadn’t thought to ask how you knew.’

‘It was he who told me of Roger’s death, suggesting that your son Peter might find Maggie a good match. I don’t mean to insult you, but he made it seem a threat.’

Ada crossed herself. ‘My son.’ She glanced at Maggie questioningly.

‘We’ve not yet spoken of him,’ said Maggie.

Something had both women holding their breath.

‘Has he tried to force the match?’ asked Andrew.

‘Let’s go without, get some air,’ Maggie suggested, nodding towards Evota and Archie, who were quietly pretending not to listen.

‘Yes,’ said Ada. ‘I have a favour to ask of you, Andrew.’

By now it was early afternoon, and shouts and a steady roar came from down below. The battle must be engaged. Andrew crossed himself and prayed for the souls of those who were falling. Ada and Maggie had paused at the sounds and crossed themselves as well, both bowing to pray. They were all one in this moment, shocked by the nearness of death.

The women set two benches in the shade beneath the eaves, away from the door and the one tiny window that looked out on to the kitchen and beyond to the backlands.

In daylight Andrew noticed with some surprise that Ada had at last begun to age beyond the whitening of her hair. Fine lines encircled her mouth and eyes, and her flesh had sagged a little. He wondered if his mother, too, was showing her age.

It was Ada who began. ‘I bore five children, four to Simon Montagu. Peter is the only one of my adult children I’ve met, and I will always regret that I did. He might yet be alive had I not come to Stirling.’

‘That is not true,’ Maggie interjected, and Andrew could see by the way she sat forward that she was impatient for Ada to come to the point.

But Andrew thought she had. ‘Your son is dead?’ he asked.

Ada dropped her gaze to her lap, where she was clasping her hands together so tightly that her fingernails were white. ‘Murdered. Just without this house. The boy inside fought with him, Peter withdrew to the garden shed, and while he lay there he was stabbed in the heart.’

Andrew was caught off guard by her bluntness. ‘God grant him peace,’ he whispered, and then looked up at the sky, trying to think of something comforting to say to her, but he could only wonder at their kindness to the man’s murderer. ‘Archie followed and killed him?’

‘No,’ said Maggie. ‘I don’t think Archie killed him.’

‘Have you asked?’

‘Archie’s leg was broken, Andrew. He could not have been near the shed after that.’

‘Would you say Peter’s requiem, Andrew? It would mean so much to me if you would.’ Ada was looking at him, her face composed. ‘Please don’t feel that you need to comfort me, for I did not like him. He caused much grief here in Stirling and no doubt elsewhere as well.’

‘But Sir Simon spoke as if Peter were alive,’ said Andrew.

‘He does not know. I feared what he would do, whom he would blame.’

‘Where is your son now?’

‘At the kirk.’

‘Why did Archie attack your son?’

‘Peter controlled Archie’s family with fear,’ said Maggie. ‘And Archie suspected him of murdering the woman he loved.’

Andrew looked from one to the other. ‘You’ve witnessed more horror here than I have while travelling with an army.’

Neither woman responded.

‘Well if Archie didn’t strike the mortal blow, who did?’ Andrew asked.

‘Archie’s sister told me that Roger’s partner was looking for Peter that night,’ said Maggie.

‘Roger’s partner?’

As Maggie explained who Aylmer was, Andrew thought that he did not know half of what his sister had suffered since she’d seen him off to Soutra.

He turned to Ada. ‘Certainly I will say Peter’s requiem.’

‘God bless you, Andrew,’ said Ada.

Maggie leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

They talked a little more about family matters, Maggie telling Andrew how Fergus had carried a message to Murray. ‘James says he is fighting with Wallace this day, and Hal as well.’

‘Uncle Murdoch’s groom?’ Andrew asked.

Maggie nodded. ‘He’s gifted with animals.’

‘Uncle must have been furious when he left.’

‘Only because he’ll worry,’ said Maggie. ‘He thinks of Hal as his son.’

‘What will you do now, Maggie? If we don’t win the day, if the English release the guard on the town, will you stay here?’

‘We’ll talk of that by and by,’ she said.

James Comyn had plans for her, Andrew imagined.

‘What will you do, Andrew?’ Ada asked. ‘Will you return to Sir Francis?’

‘He’ll have no need of me. I don’t know what I’ll do. I thought I’d seek Bishop Wishart’s advice.’ The bishop of Glasgow made no effort to hide his animosity towards Edward Longshanks. ‘I believe he’ll sympathise with my estrangement from my abbot.’

‘I still fear Abbot Adam,’ said Maggie. ‘Is the bishop-’

She was interrupted by a shriek. It came from the house. The servants went running towards it from the kitchen. Maggie was the first to follow. Andrew and Ada were right behind her.

The scene in the hall was very confused by the time they reached it. John knelt beside the shrieking Evota, who appeared to be bleeding from her shoulder. Archie was on the floor near her, moaning and kneading his injured leg with one hand, while in the other, which was held in the air by Sandy, he clutched a knife.

‘He’s gone mad,’ Evota sobbed. ‘My poor boy, the head wound has addled his wits. He tried to kill me!’

‘Murderer!’ Archie shouted. ‘Show her no pity, the murdering whore. She killed Johanna. Ask her. Ask her, Father! She’ll not lie to a priest.’

‘God help us,’ Maggie whispered. ‘Can it be true?’

Celia had knelt down by Evota to examine the wound. ‘It is not deep. You are in no danger,’ she told the woman.

Andrew crouched down beside her. ‘What is your son talking about?’

The woman looked up at Celia. ‘But the blood!’

‘It is the sort of wound that bleeds freely, Evota, but it is far from mortal,’ Celia assured her.

‘Celia, come away,’ Maggie said. ‘Let Andrew talk to her.’

The maid left with a sigh of frustration. ‘I’ll fetch a rag to staunch the flow.’

‘I tell you he’s confused,’ Evota said.

‘Why would your son call you a murderer?’ Andrew asked. ‘Who was Johanna?’

Sandy had taken the knife from Archie and let him go. Maggie now knelt by him.

‘My leg,’ he moaned, ‘I think it’s broken again.’

She and Sandy helped him back to the pallet.

‘Why do you think your mother killed Johanna?’ Maggie asked him.

‘She told me. Just now. She was trying to make me understand what she’d done, how it was for our family, but you saw what she’d done, you saw Johanna. They said her head was beaten in. She did that, the bitch who calls herself my mother.’