Unable to get Cailin off his mind, Connor paused at the casement window and stared into the bailey below. He envisioned her standing there in her tattered tunic and trews, her dirt-smudged cheeks, and her auburn hair, a windblown mess. When he’d left her in the bailey, her eyes had widened with uncertainty and questions. It took every ounce of self-control not to turn back and pull her into his arms. To tell her that everything would be all right, that he loved her, and would see her safe. Instead, he’d let duty take precedence and had left her in the care of strangers. Was she resting? Or was she roaming her chamber as confused, lost, and filled with uncertainty about the future as he was?
Connor never dreamed a woman could lay claim to his soul. Despite his efforts to deny the lust and desire firing his blood, she had somehow managed to breach the walls that protected his heart. Walls that until now, he believed were impenetrable. She had burrowed so far beneath his skin, he wasn’t certain he’d ever get her out. She made him question his chosen path, and her kisses left him dizzy with need. He wished that he could turn his back on duty, hang up his sword, and walk away from everything he stood for. Like a gem of great value and rare beauty, Cailin was a prize to be coveted—a treasure for which he felt unworthy. He’d been a warrior for so long that he’d forgotten what it was like to feel, and she deserved to be loved without reservation.
“Sit down, lad.” Simon motioned to the empty chair beside him. He leaned toward Robert and lowered his voice. “I’ve never seen him like this.”
“You should have been traveling with him these last few days. I think the lass addled his brain.” While Alasdair’s comment didn’t get a rise out of Connor, it did gain him an elbow in the side from Bryce.
Robert stroked his bearded chin and looked at Connor. “If the situation with the lass has you rattled, dinna
fash
yourself. Simon explained what happened. We’ve all made mistakes, or let the desire to tup a beautiful woman cloud our judgment. I’ll see the marriage repudiated and find a safe place for her to hide from Edward’s henchmen.”
Connor clenched his fists, slammed them on the table, and glared at Robert. “Cailin is not a whore. She’s a lady, and she needed my help.” The words came out before he could stop them.
Simon sprang to his feet, his glower fixed on Connor. “Counsel your tongue. You are speaking to the King of Scotland, and I’ll not have you—”
Robert rested his hand on Simon’s forearm. “It’s all right, my friend. I’ll excuse his insolence, but only once.” His voice hardened to one of authority as he continued. “I meant the lady no disrespect, and will grant you quarter, but if it ever happens again, I will not be so lenient.”
Connor reined in his emotions before he spoke again. “I was out of line, Robert, and for that I apologize.”
“Rescuing the lass from those bastards was a very noble deed, but you dinna have to pay for it with your freedom. Fortunately, I’m in a position to see you liberated from a marriage you dinna want. That being said, tell me what you learned in Perth.” Robert tapped his finger against the side of his tankard as he awaited an answer.
“When Longshanks made the Earl of Pembroke his ambassador to Scotland, he gave him leave to raise the dragon banner in retaliation for the death of Red Comyn. This, of course, means he intends to take no prisoners, and show no mercy.”
In addition to his cousin and two brothers, the Bruce had summoned his four advisors and three of his most trusted warriors. A rumble of comments erupted after hearing what Connor had to say. Robert raised his hand to silence them. “How many men does he have?”
“At last count, his forces numbered three thousand. Following the news of Comyn’s death, Longshanks named his son the Prince of Wales, and knighted over two hundred warriors. During the feast that followed, two elaborately decorated swans were paraded through their midst. At that time, Edward made known his plan to avenge the death of Comyn, and to squash the Scottish resistance. They are calling it the Oath of Swans.”
“Like Comyn, Aymer de Valence is a man driven by his lust for power. His desire to avenge his brother-in-law’s death only adds more fuel to an already raging fire. The situation needs careful scrutiny before we make a move.” Simon raised his tankard and took a drink before he continued. “I met de Valence on several occasions and dinna trust the man.”
“He bears watching, but this battle is imperative if we wish to unite the clans and drive the English out of Scotland.” Robert picked up a piece of parchment, and handed it to Simon. “This missive arrived from de Valence earlier today. He has thrown down the gauntlet, and I intend to meet the challenge. If I ever hope to gain the support and respect of the Scottish people, I cannot back down from this.”
“I understand, but we must proceed with caution,” Simon reiterated.
“We will not advance until the troops are ready. At last count, we numbered close to forty-five hundred men, and I’ll leave it to you and your cousins to get them into shape.” Robert emptied his tankard of ale, stood, and moved toward the door. “If you gentlemen will join me, we’ll retire to the great hall for the evening meal. We have planned a feast in honor of your return. As for the matter of your annulment, Connor, consider it done.”
The king’s words hit him like a fist in the gut. Suddenly uncertain if he wanted his marriage to end, Connor took a step in Robert’s direction, but a hand planted firmly on his shoulder halted his advance.
Simon stood beside him, and shook his head. “There’s no telling what the outcome of this battle will be and you’ve not known the lass long enough to make a commitment of marriage. Best you let her go.”
The sound of a door closing disturbed her slumber. Cailin woke with a start and sat up in bed. “Maggie? Is that you?” Cailin called out, but no one answered. Still half asleep, she slid to the edge of the bed and dropped her legs over the side.
She stretched and rubbed her eyes. The fire in the hearth had burned to ashes and all but one candle had gone out.
Her stomach growled and she remembered the tray Maggie had left on the table beside the bed. She picked up a slice of apple and popped it into her mouth, followed by a wedge of cheese. The combination of flavors exploded on her tongue, and her stomach rumbled again. She was hungrier than she thought. As she reached for a bit of bread, she noticed a piece of parchment, propped against the pitcher of ale. Cailin picked up the note, broke the seal, and began to read.
You are not welcome here. Connor is not for you. The sooner you realize that and leave, the better. If you choose to stay, you will b
e
sorry.
There was no signature, but it didn’t take a scholar to deduce that the note was left by Jenna, or another lass who fancied Connor for herself. Little did they know that if he had spoken to the king, he might already be free to marry the woman of his choice.
Anger twisted her gut, but Cailin calmly folded the note and placed it on the tray. She would not allow herself to be intimidated or forced to leave until she was ready. If Connor chose to have their marriage annulled, so be it. However, if he decided to give their marriage a chance, she’d not give up her husband without a fight.
She went to the chair, picked up the kirtle, and gasped. Holding it at arm’s length, she examined the garment. The front of the muslin undergarment was shredded to ribbons. When she lifted the gown, she sucked in another sharp breath. Ugly red stains marred the emerald fabric. Wine or blood? She wasn’t certain, but she had no doubt it was meant as an additional warning.
Thanks to Maggie, her own clothes were laundered and drying by the fire. She dressed quickly, brushed her hair, and prepared to join the other in the great hall. How she’d explain her appearance and Marion’s gown, she had yet to decide.
Cailin scurried down the hall and as she rounded the corner, she bumped into Maggie. She stumbled, but managed to steady herself by using the wall for support.
“Forgive me, m’lady.” Maggie stepped back and bowed her head. “I was on my way to offer you some assistance with dressing and should have been watching where I was going. Lady Marion is right. I’m an accident waiting to happen and must learn to be more careful.”
“I’m the one at fault. I was lost in thought and not paying attention.” Cailin ran her hands down the front of her tunic when she noticed Maggie staring at her. “Is something amiss?”
“Why are you not wearing the gown Lady Marion sent up for you?”
Cailin dragged her lower lip between her teeth and glanced away. While Maggie had been very kind and accommodating, the note and desecration of the gown had left her feeling unsettled. Uncertain as to whom she could trust, she decided it best not to mention the incident or her suspicions about Jenna until she had more proof.
“I’m afraid it dinna fit. Lady Marion is—um—more generously endowed than I.” Judging by the grin on Maggie’s face, her lady’s maid agreed with her observations.
“Aye, Laird Fraser has nothing to complain about there.” Maggie giggled and covered her mouth with her hand.
Cailin gestured toward the stairs. “It must be late, and I dare not keep my hosts waiting any longer.”
“It was near sundown when Lady Marion asked me to check on you. She said if you were too tired to come down for the meal, a tray could be sent up to your chamber.”
“I’m fine, and welcome the chance to meet the king and queen.” In reality, butterflies worried her stomach, and an uncomfortable feeling of foreboding she could not explain washed over her. Dismissing her fear as nerves and excitement over meeting royalty, she smiled at Maggie. “Shall we proceed?”
“When you first arrived, Sir Simon bid me find you as suitable gown. If he sees you dressed in these clothes, he will not be pleased. I have a gown you could wear. It is not as fine as the one Lady Fraser sent for you, but if you would like, I can fetch it.”
Cailin nodded. “If you dinna mind, I would welcome the offer of another gown.”
“I’ll get it right away, and meet you in your chamber.”
People of all ages and social classes filled the great hall, eager to partake in the evening meal and the festivities that would follow. Three musicians tuned their instruments in one corner of the hall and a group of jugglers practiced their skills in another. Servants carried wooden trays laden with roasted meat, pheasant, smoked salmon, potatoes, turnips, and leeks, and the succulent aromas filled the room. Others carried pitchers overflowing with ale and wine.
The sights, sounds, and smells brought back memories of the elaborate feasts her father hosted during special events and holidays. For the first time in days, Cailin actually felt a little homesick. She missed Myrna, Eildth, her cousins, and Aunt Bess. However, those feelings quickly passed when she reminded herself that Borden’s men would arrest her the moment she set foot on Macmillan land, and her father would do nothing to stop them. She would never return home, and had to accept it.
As Cailin and Maggie approached the dais, heads turned in their direction and a hush fell over the room. She nervously smoothed her hands down the front of her blue wool gown and willed her legs to move.
“Dinna pay them any mind, Lady Cailin, they are just curious is all.”
Maggie’s reassuring words did little to calm her insecurity, or to ease the knot that twisted her stomach when she glanced up the dais a few feet in front of them. A regal looking couple sat at the laird’s table. She assumed they must be the newly crowned King and Queen of Scotland. Lady Marion flanked the queen and Simon sat beside the Bruce—the two men immersed in conversation. Connor, Alasdair, and Bryce sat to Simon’s right, while a young girl of ten summers and a man who appeared to be in his early forties sat beside Marion.
“I am pleased that you could join us, Lady Cailin. Come, and have a seat.” Lady Marion smiled, then gestured to an empty chair beside Connor. “Thank you, Maggie, that will be all for now.”
Maggie curtsied. “Enjoy your meal, m’lady. I’ll assist you in your chambers when you are ready to retire.” That said, she turned and moved toward an empty seat at the end of one of the trestle tables.
On shaky legs, Cailin climbed the two dais steps, aware that all eyes were upon her. She approached the proffered seat, but stopped abruptly, stumbled, and struck her hip on the edge of the table when a raven-haired beauty shoved her out of the way.
The young woman bowed to the king and queen. Without hesitation, or an apology to Cailin, she sat in the chair beside Connor. She grabbed his forearm and leaned in close. “I’m so glad you have returned to me unharmed. I’ve missed you so much.”
Bryce stood, wrapped his arm around Cailin’s waist, and whispered in her ear. “I’m afraid Lady Jenna likes to make a grand entrance. I’d be very honored if you would share a meal with me.” He held out the chair beside him.
Cailin didn’t sit down. Instead, she placed her hand on the table to steady herself and stared at her husband.
Say something. You may not wish to be married, but how could you humiliate me like this?
Connor flashed an apologetic look in her direction and shrugged. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed, but said nothing aloud to discourage Jenna.
Jenna’s smug expression and coy smiled triggered a sudden stab of jealousy. Cailin was more certain than ever who had destroyed Marion’s gown and left the threatening note.
“May I present Queen Elizabeth de Burgh and her husband, King Robert I,” Marion said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
Cailin turned to face Robert and Elizabeth and curtsied. “It is my honor to meet you. I thank you for your kindness and hospitality.”
“Dinna mention it,” Elizabeth replied. “Please have a seat, and enjoy the meal.”
“Aye, sit before the food grows cold,” Robert added as he filled his trencher with roasted meat and vegetables.
As Cailin slowly sank into the chair beside Bryce, he leaned in and spoke in a low voice. “Trust me when I say that there is nothing between them. At least not as far as Connor is concerned.”
“It certainly does not look that way. She is climbing all over him, and he has done nothing to dissuade her.”
“He cannot slight Jenna in public and risk insulting the Bruce or her father. Jenna may be a little—um—” He stumbled for the right words. “She’s very overbearing, and forward, but her father does not see it. To push her away in front of the clan would be an embarrassment for Jenna and her family. Out of respect for Nigel and Robert, Connor tolerates her bold advances.”
The swell of emotion that rose in her throat threatened to cut off her ability to breathe. Had Connor taken her to his bed, knowing Jenna was awaiting his return? How could she compete with Jenna’s unearthly beauty and lineage? She could not really blame Connor for choosing the niece of the king. But, that didn’t make it hurt any less. Watching Jenna fawn all over him was like having a dagger run through her heart over and over again.
Bryce moved the trencher they shared closer and handed her a knife. “You need to eat, lass.”
“I’ve lost my appetite.” Cailin’s eyes were fixed on her husband.
Any closer, and she’ll be sitting on his lap.
As if on cue, Jenna moved her chair closer to Connor. “I was concerned when I heard about your encounter with those nasty English soldiers. Some people go looking for trouble with no regard for the consequences.” She glanced over her shoulder at Cailin, then quickly returned her attention to Connor. With one hand resting on his forearm, the other on his thigh, she leaned in, her lips nearly brushing his ear. “Thank God, Uncle Robert saw fit to rectify the horrible mistake you made. I cannot imagine being forced to endure a marriage to a little chit that you dinna love. Now you’re free to marry the woman of your heart.”
Connor grunted, but said nothing.
If possible, Jenna leaned even closer, offering Connor a glimpse of ample breasts spilling over the top of a too tight bodice. “You deserve a wife of status and breeding. Uncle Robert and my father are both in agreement. If you wish to court me, they’d be most pleased. Is that not right, Father?”
“I have no objection if you wish to court her,” Nigel said with his mouth full.
Connor shifted in his chair, but made no offer of marriage. Was he shocked by Jenna’s brazenness and manipulation, or just embarrassed about being caught in a deception? Regardless, Cailin could not sit there and listen to any more. She slowly rose from her chair and faced the king and queen. “I am suddenly not feeling well. The journey must have taken a greater toll on me than I thought. My sincere apologies your majesties, but I must leave.” Fleeing the dais, she rushed toward the door.