“Aye, my clan is weel kenned far and wide,” said Sir Nathan MacFingal, “and our fame and glory grow with each passing day. ’Tis kind of ye to note it.”
Annys looked at the man, struggling to hide her surprise over such a boast. Sir Nathan was grinning as widely as Harcourt and the others were, apparently oblivious to the insult that had just been delivered. That made no sense for they were not stupid men. Yet, every one of them looked one word away from tumbling into a hearty bout of laughter. She wished she knew what jest they shared. The way Adam clenched his hands into white-knuckled fists told her he knew and this reaction to his attempted insult was infuriating him. When Adam turned his glare upon her, Annys barely stopped herself from stepping back in alarm. To hide her fear, she stood even straighter and idly brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek.
“My cousin isnae e’en cold in his grave but a few weeks and ye have already collected yourself a new stable,” Adam said in a cold, hard voice. “But, mayhap this one isnae so new, aye?” he added with a faint nod toward Harcourt.
Joan’s gasp of shock came from behind Annys but she was more interested in the sword point touching Adam’s throat. She had not seen Harcourt move yet the man was one short step from ending Adam’s life. It was very tempting to let him, but Annys knew she would regret it as soon as the deed was done. She needed proof of Adam’s crimes against her. Without it, she and Benet would fight the charge of murder for the rest of their lives. At its weakest it would hurt them in any relationships, truces, or treaties they wished to make to better the lives of the people of Glencullaich. At its worst, it could get her neck into a hangman’s noose and leave Benet alone and unprotected. It would cause Sir Harcourt a great deal of trouble as well since it would be his sword that had drawn Adam’s blood.
“Since ye appear to have come to Glencullaich to do naught but insult me, Sir Adam,” she said, “I believe I would verra much like ye to leave. Now.”
“Ye would force me off my own family’s lands? Off MacQueen lands?”
“I would demand that ye leave my family’s lands, sir. Lands still held by a MacQueen whether ye be standing on them or nay. Lands I ken my late husband has already banished ye from once.”
For a moment she feared the man would attack her despite the sword point tickling his throat. Annys wondered if she had pushed the man too hard but could see nothing else she could do or say. To ignore such an insult to her honor, one delivered before her people and her guests, would reveal a dangerous weakness. That would cause even more trouble than she was facing now. She lightly tapped Sir Harcourt’s sword arm and he slowly pulled back his sword, but only a little.
“Ye go too far, woman,” Adam said and moved to remount his horse. “So does this mon ye call friend. Ye will regret it. Ye may trust me on that.”
Annys was too slow to shield her face with her hand when Adam and his men kicked their horses into a gallop and rode out through the gates. Dust and grit stung her eyes and made her cough. It gave her some small comfort to hear others doing the same, indicating that she was not the only one too slow to guess that Adam’s leave-taking would be as rude as his arrival. When Joan, softly cursing Adam in ways Annys would never have guessed the woman knew, pressed a cool, wet cloth into her hands, she quickly put it to use.
As soon as her eyes were clear, Annys looked at Sir Harcourt. It was irritating to see that he and his companions had obviously anticipated Adam’s petty action. All six watched Adam and his men ride away with such intensity it made her belly tighten with unease. She suspected not one of them would accept much of Sir Adam’s arrogant disrespect. They would not ignore a threat, either, and there was no question that Sir Adam had just delivered one. And this time Sir Adam had committed his crime in front of a whole bailey full of witnesses.
“His rush to your gates upon hearing of our arrival was the act of a mon who allows his anger to rule him,” said Harcourt as, once certain the gates were again well secured, he took Annys by the arm, and began to lead her back inside. “That is a weakness.”
“Doomed fools,” said Sir Nathan and winked at her before hurrying back into the great hall. “Ah, the angels smile upon me for there is more of that fine ale.”
“A mon easily pleased by the simple things in life,” Harcourt said, a hint of laughter behind his words.
Annys could not help but smile, although that pleasant touch of amusement only lightened her heart for a moment. Adam’s visit had been uncomfortable for many reasons. His anger and threats were something she now anticipated each time she saw him. It was the way he had looked at Harcourt that troubled her now. Annys had seen the glint of recognition in the man’s eyes. She just wished she could know if it was because Adam recognized Harcourt from the time he had stayed at Glencullaich or if he saw as much of Benet in the man as she did. Joan had assured her that the resemblance between Harcourt and his son was not that obvious, but Sir Adam had seen it, or thought he had. She could only hope that the man did not start flinging accusations at Harcourt, too.
She sat down, smiled at the young boy who served her some cider, and tried to ignore how pleased she was that Harcourt sat next to her. It was a foolish thing to be pleased about. She was no young maid too inexperienced to deal with a handsome man. Blushes and a flutter deep in her belly were the reactions of a virgin maid and she had not been one of those for a very long time.
Then she thought on the anger Adam had revealed, the hatred she had seen in his gaze as he had glared at her. That hatred had bloomed after Adam had looked at Harcourt. Annys could understand the anger since Adam felt he was being denied something he was entitled to. She could not understand why he would be so twisted with hatred for her, however. He had not looked at her like that before today and Benet was almost five years old, a child Adam had never believed was truly David’s despite how loudly and widely David had claimed the boy.
“I think we best keep a close watch on everything,” said Harcourt and watched all his companions nod in agreement.
“Because of the threat he made?” Annys asked.
“Aye, although I believe the threat has been there for a while. Mayhap just nay spoken so clearly or openly. There were a lot of witnesses to what he said. The mon has no patience. He wants what he wants right now. Ye have been a thorn in his side for too long.”
“David hasnae been dead that long.”
“True but we now think Sir Adam may have had a hand in that. Yet, despite that, he still cannae claim what he thinks should be his. And why is that?”
“Ah, because David married me and I gave him an heir.”
“Exactly. E’en worse, ye are refusing to cower and let fear move ye to just hand him what he demands, mayhap e’en flee this place. Ye have every intention of holding Glencullaich for your son. Now ye have brought in more men, ones he doesnae ken the strength and skill of.” Harcourt slowly shook his head. “That must be feeding his anger as weel.”
“Why would he e’er think I would just hand him my child’s inheritance and scurry away without complaint?” she asked, certain she had never done anything to give Sir Adam the idea that she was such a coward.
“It may be what he is accustomed to having women do.” He shook his head. “It does us little good to try and understand the why of his unreasonable claims and demands. All that matters to us is making verra sure he doesnae get what he wants and that he doesnae hurt anyone before we put an end to his fool game.”
“That is something I can stand behind. Joan has suggested that I write to Sir Adam’s father and tell him what the man is doing.”
Harcourt frowned and slowly tapped his fingers against the table. “Do ye think it will be that easy to solve this? That the mon’s father can stop him?”
“Nay, not truly. Yet, what harm would be done to try it?”
“Ye dinnae believe the father is making Sir Adam try and gain hold of this place?”