Tamed by a Laird by Amanda Scott Page A

more, I’m thinking.”
    “Aye, and I did think to ask t’ woman. She said her sister be ’eading back shortly and will show us the way.” Although Lucas
     rarely showed his feelings, Hugh could tell he was pleased with himself for acquiring such useful information.
    The news, welcome as it was, revealed nothing of the two missing young women, and darkness would fall long before he and Lucas
     could catch up with the minstrels. Lucas’s earlier observation that they would catch up with at least one of them by midnight
     was looking less likely by the minute.
    Hugh could not doubt that wherever they had camped the previous night, they would likely have moved on at first light. He
     also realized now that they were not going directly to Dumfries, so heaven alone knew how many other places they meant to
     visit first or which direction they would head next.
    He was beginning to become seriously annoyed with Janet Easdale. However, his mood lightened when their guide, a brisk young
     matron who called herself Mistress Moffat, guided them swiftly to the Lochmaben road.
    As he thanked her, he said, “I wonder, mistress, if you can suggest a likely place along this road for a company of minstrels
     to camp.”
    She considered for only a moment before suggesting Castle Moss. “The laird there does enjoy the players whenever they come
     this way, sir. Faith, but he nearly always lets any as wants to camp in his woods. I warrant ye’ll find them there.”
    He was just as certain that he would not find them there, but he hoped the laird of Castle Moss could tell him if the young
     baroness had been with them.
    Only when he began to explain that hope to Lucas did he realize he’d have to be careful in his description, so as not to reveal
     what Dunwythie wanted kept quiet.
    Castle Moss stood only a mile up the road, and although he’d have liked to travel on through the night since they would have
     moonlight, he knew that both he and Lucas would do better for a good night’s sleep.
    The laird of Castle Moss proved both hospitable and delighted to entertain his guests with an enthusiastic description of
     the minstrels.
    “Most astonishing!” he exclaimed when Hugh asked about them. “One fellow tossed dirks about like clubs. Didna seem to mind
     which end he caught, and I swear to ye, he had eight o’ them going at once. When he stopped, he just gathered them all together
     like a bouquet o’ spring flowers.”
    “That sounds like just what I’m after, sir,” Hugh said. “I’m looking to hire minstrels for our market fair at Thornhill, and
     I’ve heard that this lot is exceptional.”
    “They are, and the jugglers were only the beginning. Why they’ve a pair o’ fools that nigh made me split m’ sides laughing,
     and then there was Bonnie Jenny.”
    Hugh raised his eyebrows. “A lass? Dancer or a gleemaiden?”
    “Ye might call her a gleemaiden, I expect. But the chief juggler put her out before us, all on her ownsome, and I’m telling
     ye, that lass has a voice like an angel. She sang only two songs, mind ye. And, although we shouted for her to sing more,
     the man wouldna allow it. Instead, he said they’d be at Lochmaben tonight—and doubtless tomorrow, as well, it being Sunday.
     Then they’ll go on to Dumfries, he said. He kens his business, that ’un. He’ll likely draw crowds wherever they set up their
     encampments, as well as in Dumfries market square.”
    “You did say they aimed for Lochmaben from here, did you not, sir?”
    “Och, aye, but it will do ye nae good to seek them there, ye ken. Sithee, them English louts willna let in any Scotsmen unless
     they be minstrels or troubadours.”
    Having learned all he wanted to know, Hugh changed the subject and spent a pleasant evening with his genial host. But the
     next morning, as he and Lucas were riding away, he said to Lucas, “We’ll make haste now that we know where they are. We need
     only think of a ruse that will get us inside