Page 28 of Much Ado About a Scot

Darkness enveloped Xander as he lowered himself into the well. He climbed down for what felt like forever, until his boots hit the bottom with a muffled thump. A moment later, the scent of disturbed soil wafted up to his nostrils before settling back down.

Xander waited, giving his eyes time to adjust to the lack of light. Before long, the darkness faded as a hazy gray took its place. It was then that Xander could make out two tunnels. One to his left and another to his right. Many Catholic landowners had built priest holes to conceal the presence of a priest in their homes as the Reformation intensified in Scotland. Had the Grahams developed a tunnel system for that same purpose? Or was this a way for the Grahams to spy on their neighbor?

Whatever this tunnel’s original intent, it was being used frequently, judging by the multiple sets of footprints in the dirt, to enter and exit both the Graham and the Seaton estates without notice. And there was no way to tell which direction the most recent visitor to this tunnel had gone. Left or right?

Xander gritted his teeth in frustration. His work for the king dictated he should follow the secret passageway to the Graham estate, but a sense of foreboding told him to go the opposite direction—toward Isobel’s home. Without a second thought, he went right. If anyone was intent on harming a member of the Seaton household, they would have to go through him to do so.

*

“Jamie!” Isobel’s heart pounded, yet her brain remained calm as she finished searching the perimeter of the house and barn. Jamie was out here somewhere. She simply had to figure out where.

Where was Xander when she so desperately needed him? Even as the thought formed, she pushed it away. Nay, she could not start relying on him for anything. He had told her from the beginning his time here was limited. She had to figure out how to proceed on her own with her son and with her farm. That way when he left, he wouldn’t take a piece of her with him.

A headache started behind her eyes. She pressed two fingers to the throbbing, pounding hollow of her temple and glanced around, searching. “Jamie!”

From overhead came the high screeching cry of an eagle reverberating through the still morning air. Isobel’s heart sank as she stared at the big bird circling overhead. Then a thought occurred to her. The bird would not still be searching for prey if it had already found something to satisfy its hunger. But there was no time to waste. She needed help.

*

The air underground was cooler as Xander felt more than saw his way through the passageway. He shuffled his feet, unable to see anything more than a hazy arm’s length in front of him.

Excitement wedded with fear and made his breath quicken. The sound of it echoed in the tunnel. The passageway was no more than four feet across, but wide enough for him not to feel suffocated by the darkness and the space as he continued on.

Then, unexpectedly, his toes hit something hard. He put his hand out in front of him and felt a wall of dirt. Part of the wall stood out from the rest and, as he brought his hand over it, he felt another wooden ladder against the packed earth.

He started climbing, suspecting that he’d reached the Seaton estate. As he climbed, the temperature warmed and pinpricks of light pebbled the darkness. At the top of the ladder, there was a ledge that he pulled himself up and onto in order to explore some kind of wooden panel before him. It seemed solid, yet if this was the entrance it had to move somehow.

Xander dropped his gaze to the dirt at his feet, noticing scraping that indicated the opening moved in a right to left motion. There had to be some sort of lever, or a handhold to move the object. In the dappled light, he felt the edge of the wood, slowly exploring his way around the object, until he finally felt something stand out from the rest. His fingers identified a handhold. This must be the way inside. Holding the wooden piece with one hand, he drew his dagger with the other, then slid the heavy object before him aside.

Bright light assailed him momentarily as his eyes adjusted yet again to the environment, until he could clearly see a room before him. He pushed through the opening and came out with his dagger at the ready to find he was alone and standing in Isobel’s sitting room.

The chamber was empty. The tension in his body eased and he relaxed his arm but did not put the dagger away. He pushed the bookshelf back into place, then took the flint and steel and candles from the hearth and stored them in his sporran. He would explore the other tunnel as soon as he made certain the man he had seen enter the tunnel was not here.

Xander hurried toward the kitchen, expecting to find at least Freya there, preparing for the coming feast, but the room was empty. Meat sizzled over the flames in the hearth, and it looked as though Freya had been kneading bread then simply stopped and abandoned her dough, as evidenced by the trail of flour on the floor that extended out the back door.

The door was open. Xander sheathed his dagger and followed the trail of flour outside to the encampment of the workers he had hired to help with the harvest. They were all gone, yet their fires still burned and pots boiled over the flames. It was as though everyone had simply vanished.

Then he heard multiple shouts off in the distance. He strained to make out what they said. Jamie.

His heart quickened. Had the little boy wandered off again? Was everyone searching for the child? How long had he been gone?

Frowning, Xander forced the questions away as he made his way back to the kitchen door. All that mattered was finding Jamie. If the little boy left the house it would have been from the kitchen while Freya was too busy with her preparations. Xander’s instincts kicked in as he scanned the grassy soil for a sign of the little boy’s footprints.

His heart sped up as he identified a small set of footprints heading not toward the fields but to the treeline. He followed Jamie’s tracks as they pushed through the trees and headed toward the well.

This was all his fault. The boy had been vying for attention since he’d arrived three days ago. He’d wanted to play. He’d wanted to help with the harvest but Xander had always insisted the child go back to his nursemaid instead. What harm would it have done to involve the child in their harvesting activities? The boy would be old enough next year to help with creating the stooks, and perhaps even the threshing. If this land would eventually be his, then he needed to learn everything there was to know about farming, and the earlier the better.

When they found the child, things would be different. Xander would make sure to take time to talk with Jamie and teach him what he could. He’d given the boy a knife, but had never really showed him how to use it.

If they found him.

Xander reached the well and peered inside. The covering was still shifted to the side as he had left it. Quickly, he reached inside his sporran and retrieved a candle, flint and steel. Lighting the candle, he took it with him down into the well, praying that he wouldn’t find Jamie’s little body had since crumpled at the bottom.

*

Isobel, Freya, Brodie, and the hired workers all fanned out across both the Seaton and Graham fields, searching for Jamie. After an hour of looking, Isobel had left them all in their continued search to look in another place for her child. She doubted Jamie would have entered the Dunbar Manor uninvited, but she had to check.

It had been three years since she’d walked up the gravel pathway to the front door. Her heart raced as she rapped the head of the brass knocker against its base three times. It didn’t take long for the Graham steward to answer.