Cunningham 05 - Rough Collier by Pat McIntosh

Author:Pat McIntosh [McIntosh, Pat]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Historical
ISBN: 9781569475072
Google: 7YYEAQAAQBAJ
Amazon: 1569475814
Goodreads: 2717994
Publisher: Soho Press
Published: 2008-04-30T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

‘Michael was to start for Lanark at first light,’ said Alys, from her place in the circle of Gil’s arm, ‘so he has had most of the day now to search Lanark. He reckoned he could more easily spare half a dozen men for the day than Madame Mère,’ she explained, with a quick smile at his mother. ‘But I hoped he might send word of my patient.’

Gil drew her closer, relishing her solid warmth. It had been, somehow, a longer ride home than the one out to Blackness, and the thought of her welcome had greatly cheered the journey. He used his other hand to scratch the ears of the rather damp wolfhound who leaned against his knee, making the dog groan ecstatically.

‘Maybe I should have gone on to Lanark to find him myself. I’m reluctant to ride further, to be honest . . .’

‘Well you might be,’ said his mother, with a wry glance at the cushion of the bench he had chosen to sit on. ‘I can spare Steenie that long, I suppose. Indeed, he should be back soon. And I bade him ask after Fleming while he was about it, my dear,’ she added to Alys.

‘Yes, Fleming,’ said Gil. ‘You say it was Crombie beat him?’

‘So he told us,’ Alys agreed. ‘He made better sense later, once we had got him back to Cauldhope, and washed his hurts and put him to bed. He said he was out in the fields, on his way to wherever it was Michael had sent him, and Crombie and his men found him, and set about him with sticks.’

‘Crombie had one man and no sticks when he left here,’ Gil said.

‘No, I thought that, and I would have said from his bruises they rather used their fists and feet.’

‘Gaif him an outragious blaw, and great boist blew,’ suggested Gil.

Her quick smile flickered as she placed the quotation, but she went on, ‘I suppose Crombie wished to threaten him about the charge against Mistress Lithgo. But Gil, I am still puzzled by his lying in a swoon half the day like that, and by the convulsions. I could find no blow to the head that would account for it. I wonder if Mistress Lithgo would tell me . . .’ Her voice trailed off.

‘So you think,’ said Lady Egidia, ‘that the man Murray has a mistress in or near Lanark, and visits her once a quarter while these two brothers collect the money for him.’

‘It looks very like it,’ Gil said. Socrates nudged his hand, and he scratched behind the dog’s ears again. Awaft of the animal’s fishy breath reached him.

‘It’s odd, mind you,’ persisted his mother, ‘if that’s so, that word’s never got round. It’s a small enough neighbourhood, after all. Carluke folk go down to the market at Lanark, and a juicy bit of gossip like that would travel, you’d think.’

‘He might visit her under another name,’ said Alys.

‘He’d be recognized by someone as he came or went, I’m sure of that.

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