The Heather Moon by Susan King Page A

said.
    "Will I not?" Musgrave growled.
    "Gypsies and rogues!" Arthur Musgrave, who had been listening intently, looked at his father. "Dinna listen to her—we take too great a chance in dealing with such men."
    "They are exactly what we need for this," Jasper said. "Rascals all, eager for coin, without Scottish loyalties but with Scottish ties. With Rookhope, Armstrong of Merton, a few Border scoundrels, and a handful of gypsies, this plan will succeed nicely."
    "What is your scheme?" Tamsin asked.
    "A plan to benefit all, north and south," Musgrave said.
    "War?" Tamsin asked, horrified.
    "Nay. I cannot say as yet." Musgrave glanced away.
    "King Henry wants only good for Scotland," Arthur said. His father nodded. "Our king is greatly concerned for his northern neighbors, who lack a strong ruler. The little queen of Scotland needs his guidance."
    "Aye, he sees a chance to take over Scotland!" Archie said. "I willna help ye." He set his jaw stubbornly.
    "Think of your daughter, man. She could be hanged for a tawny and a thief. And you, gypsy"—Musgrave looked at Tamsin—"will you dance at the end of a rope?" He picked up the noose that lay on the table, and drew its loop through his thick fingers. "Will you watch your father dance there?"
    He handed the rope to Arthur and murmured to him. Arthur stood and came forward. In a quick and surprising movement, he stepped toward Tamsin and dropped the loop over her head. He slid the knot tight, jerking her head back.
    Tamsin cried out as she felt the wrenching pressure at her throat. She raised her bound hands to the rope and clawed awkwardly at it with the fingers of her right hand. Arthur tightened the knot again, until she felt dizzy, heart pounding, knees growing weak.
    Through a haze of shock and fear, she heard Archie bellow at Arthur, and saw William Scott stride toward her.
    "Stay where you are!" Jasper Musgrave said. "Arthur, if either of them comes near, pull the knot hard. Now, Archie," he said smoothly, "tell me again that you refuse to help us."
    "She has naught to do with this!" Archie shouted.
    "Leave her be," William said. His voice was quiet, a growl of thunder in the room. Tamsin saw him step closer, saw Musgrave throw up a hand to stop him.
    "Archie only needs convincing. She will not be harmed." Musgrave smiled. "We can use the skills of a gypsy—this one, or another of her acquaintance, if she will not cooperate. Archie will know who to hire for us."
    William ignored him and looked at Arthur. "Let go of her."
    Arthur paused, and Tamsin pulled helplessly at the rope. Musgrave heaved himself to his feet and walked toward her. With one finger, he traced her throat. Waves of dizziness and fury washed over her.
    "A fragile neck," Musgrave murmured. "'Twill snap quick."
    Swift and sure, William Scott swept past Musgrave like a bird of prey to grab Arthur's arm. He slipped his other arm around Arthur's neck and pulled back. Tamsin felt another tug as Arthur kept his grip on the rope.
    "Let go, Arthur," William growled, "else your own neck will snap!"

 
     
     
    Chapter 4

     
    "Have you any gold, Father?" she says,
    "Or have you any fee?
    Or did you come to see your own daughter hanging
    Like a dog, upon a tree?"
    —"The Broom o' the Cathery Knowes"
    Time and breath seemed to stop for a moment while William waited, heart pounding, the crook of his arm around Arthur's neck. "Jasper," he said. "Tell your son that I mean it."
    "Eh, let go of her, lad," Musgrave rumbled.
    Arthur released the rope. William flung him aside, scarcely noticing as Arthur stumbled to the floor and regained his feet.
    The girl struggled for breath and clutched at the rope with one bare hand. William widened the noose and slipped it over her head. He whipped the rope away, and it smacked into the wall and slid into a heap. The girl coughed, and William touched her shoulder, his fingers trembling.
    She looked up at him. Her green eyes had a startling clarity, as if her unguarded soul glimmered