“He had two blades,” Keenan said (17 page)

“Did ye come to tell us this?” Keenan asked as he glanced to see Serena at his side.

“Not mostly,” Drakkina answered. “I’ve come to help.” She smiled cryptically.

“Help?” Keenan asked dryly.

“Yes, first I wanted to introduce myself to you, Keenan Maclean. And then I wanted to tell you that I will help.”

“With what?” Serena’s hand crept up the back of Keenan until she had a piece of his tunic twisting in her hand. She couldn’t pull at her hair, but she needed to work at something in her nervous state.

Drakkina shrugged. “Where I can. Help to find the letter, help to clear your Romany brother’s name.”

“Thank ye, but we doona need yer help.”

She let out one loud “Ha”. “We’ll see,” she said as her body began to mist away like a wisp of wood smoke swirled by a light breeze.

Chapter 10

A light reel moved the courtly dancers about the ballroom as Keenan and Serena stepped under the arched entry flanked by Thomas, Brodick and Gavin. Ewan remained with the servants and investigated the kitchens and stables. Although the spirited notes cast a guileless mood amidst the dainty smiles and appreciative glances between guests, Keenan knew the minds behind the façades often slithered with deception and darkness. Which was why he had commanded Serena to keep up her wall, or whatever she used to keep out thoughts. Through the evening she would be able to identify the murderers by sight.

Keenan steered them toward the king. “We need to pay homage first.”

“You are sound and back on your feet,” George said in response to Serena’s curtsey. “Good, good. Lady Serena, please rise. I would not be responsible for a repeated fainting spell.”

Serena straightened. “Pray, please excuse my earlier fragility. It has been a long journey and the excitement of meeting Your Majesty, well I think it was too much for me.” Serena blushed to add to the excuse.

Keenan mentally added actor to Serena’s attributes, which already included witch and warrior.

“Yes, you do seem a bit frail, dear,” Elizabeth Darlington drawled out. “Those Highland winters just might do you in.”

Olivia Frampton tittered nervously and took Serena’s arm. “I’m sure you will fair quite well up north, Lady Serena. The court can be quite overwhelming when one has not been raised within it. Take a turn with me,” Olivia said indicating the perimeter of the room. “And tell me about your upbringing. I hear you hail from York?”

Keenan watched them weave a path through the gossipy courtiers. He and Serena had discussed her contrived background earlier.

“I say, she’s quite a lovely woman,” King George’s words snapped Keenan’s mind back to the moment.

“Aye, Yer Majesty. It was what first caught my eye.”

“And now that you’ve handfasted with her, will you follow up with a church wedding or has your lust been sated enough that you’ll abandon her?” George glanced at Keenan. “I understand that you can leave a handfasted woman after a year and a day if you’re not satisfied with her. What a wonderfully barbaric custom.”

Frampton hovered nearby, chuckling. The condescending snorts raked against Keenan’s temper, making the muscles in his arms begin to bunch. Years of practice hiding his emotions kept his tone level.

“We will have the clergy bless the union upon return to Kylkern.” George’s eyes followed Serena, but Keenan caught the haughty eyes of Frampton. “Serena is under my protection and I gladly give her the Maclean name. We are tied together until death.”

George smiled slyly. “With God’s will that will last longer than the year.”

“And a day,” Frampton added.

George laughed.

Keenan forced a grin and tried to switch the topic to arms and strategic alliances.

George sighed. “Let us talk of lighter things this eve, Maclean. You have a beautiful woman soon to be on your arm again. The food and spirits are a delight.”

Frampton puffed up visually on the compliment.

“Let us talk of Jacobite plots on the morrow and leave tonight open for delights,” George finished as Elizabeth moved against his side and linked her arm in his. After long moments of ridiculous, polite banter, Olivia brought Serena back around. Serena came directly over to Keenan, and he took her arm.

“Perhaps we will talk on the morrow,” Keenan said. “It is only that we canna tarry long here in Leicester.”

“Oh?” George asked.

“We have vows to say,” Keenan said and pulled Serena within the confines of his frame.

Frampton stepped up. “We can easily procure a priest and have a grand celebration right here.”

Keenan felt Serena’s body stiffen against him. “We appreciate the generous offer, but must decline,” he replied with a slight bow of his head.

Olivia pouted audibly while Elizabeth delivered a look of skeptical elation while tapping her fan shut.

Keenan looked only to King George. “I have failed yet to present my wife to my brother and chief, Lachlan. As it is, I shouldn’t have handfasted without speaking my intent with him first. I wouldn’t show further disrespect by wedding officially without his knowledge and consent.”

The king raised an eyebrow as if he would argue, but Keenan continued with ease. “I would also appreciate the opportunity to give Lachlan one more chance to join ye in yer quest to unite Britain before I dethrone him.” He shrugged slightly and tucked Serena’s hand in his arm. “After all, he is my brother.”

George pursed his pudgy lips. “He has a strong argument, Lady Frampton,” he said as he addressed the sulking woman across from him.

Olivia’s pout broadened into a smile. “Then I will gift you with a wedding costume,” she said to Serena.

“Your generosity is too much,” Serena murmured.

Olivia waved her free hand. “It will be my pleasure, fun actually. We will clothe you as befitting a friend of the royal court.”

Serena nodded politely. “Your graciousness, Lady Frampton, is without bounds. I thank you.” Serena curtsied.

“I will come with my seamstresses to your room on the morrow,” Olivia continued.

“At the inn?” Serena asked.

“Heavens, no. You and your lord will stay in your room here at Frampton Manor of course. I’m sure the King would want you close.”

Keenan stepped in. “Doona fret, wife, I have had our bags brought to our room.” Aye, he would have to share a room with her, but he would deal with that later.

A tinkling bell announced dinner.

Hours later, the last course of sugared fruit was tasted and the same bell signaled the end of the feast. The string instruments began a slow waltz to draw the guests back to the ballroom. Keenan pulled Serena to the dance floor amidst several other couples.

He bent low to her ear. “Do ye ken the steps, lass? I doona wish to embarrass ye.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you, but yes, I know the steps. I have been dancing a long time, and not just around a campfire.”

Keenan frowned slightly. “But this dance is a bit,” he paused, “intimate. Ye’ve danced it before?”

“I think William would purge his supper if you told him that this dance is intimate, since he was the only man who would dare dance with me, or touch me, for that matter.”

Serena closed her eyes and tried to control her blush. Had those words actually rolled from her mouth? Such pitiful words. Keenan whisked her into a turn and her dress flared out to the side. Keenan said nothing through several rounds. They twirled and stepped, bowed and slid.

As they stepped together once more at the end of one round, Keenan lowered his voice. “Those who were too afraid to touch yer softness, they were cowards.” He shook his head once, a slight movement almost unperceivable. “I am glad though that they never felt the silk in yer hair or the movement of yer form against their body.” He slid his hand along her waist. “I am no coward.”

Serena could scarcely breathe. She took several shallow breaths without breaking the contact between them. Her heart danced wildly inside causing her chest to swell upwards with each inhale. Keenan glanced down along her neckline and then back up to her face. His eyes fiercely intense, his tongue touched his bottom lip causing a shudder to run through Serena. Keenan’s thumb grazed her jaw where it rose up into her hairline.

“Keenan,” Brodick stepped to their side, shattering the moment. She had felt something from Keenan, something in his words had tugged at her mind. Had she connected in some way with him? It hadn’t been words she had heard, but the echo of emotion.

“Keenan, Ewan heard from a maid who overheard from Frampton’s valet that George keeps his letters and papers in Frampton’s study off the library on the east side of the manor.”

Keenan blinked, his eyes moving from Serena around the room. “The letter could be there.” Serena followed his gaze.

Serena’s eyes locked onto a couple with the king. She sucked in her breath so quickly she coughed. “That’s them, with the king right now,” she whispered. Casually Keenan turned. The man and woman laughed with King George before his makeshift throne.

“Gerard’s murderers?” Brodick asked.

“Are ye certain?” Keenan asked at the same time.

“Yes and yes.”

“Ye haven’t touched them,” Keenan continued.

Serena shook her head. “Their faces have haunted my mind since William was shot.”

“Cumberland,” Keenan said. “Let’s find the library.” Keenan placed Serena back on his arm. “Brodick, keep an eye out in here.”

“Do ye intend to take the letter tonight?” Brodick asked.

“If I can find it.”

“Then I’ll alert the others to prepare in case we must depart abruptly,” he said, his eyes twinkling as if he anticipated a good fight.

“But then we won’t be able to make the true murderers confess,” Serena pointed out.

“One step at a time, Serena. Let’s first see if the letter actually exists,” Keenan said, and turned to her. “Trust me. I’ve sworn to help William.”

“But what if your duty to your brother and your clan is stronger than your word to me?” He didn’t answer her but led her out on the balcony.

“Quickly, around to the far entrance,” he said. They stepped back inside near several potted trees and walked slowly out of the ballroom and down the empty hall.

Keenan opened several doors before he found the one leading into the library. Serena smelled the tang of ink and the mildew of old pages even before she saw the rows of aged tomes in the glow of a small fire. Keenan left her to find a taper near the hearth and lit it. They walked silently through the room to another door in the back corner. “Can ye tell? Is there anyone in there?” Keenan asked.

Serena focused her power through the door but heard nothing. She shook her head.

They slipped inside. Another hearth fire chased shadows around the snug study. Two windows flanked the massive wood desk. A map of Britain lay unrolled on a second table near the desk. Keenan moved over to it, studying the lines and numbers.

Serena lit another taper from the fire and padded to the desk. Several piles of papers sat along its perimeter. One semi-rolled letter sat before the chair as if someone had left it half read. She scanned it quickly down to the signature. George’s elegant script marked the bottom.

Mari had taught Serena to read in Romany.

Serena had taught herself some English, but George’s handwriting was long and fluid, more beautiful than informative.

“Keenan,” her whisper carried in the still room. “There’s a letter here from George. I can’t make out his handwriting, but it has the feel of something important.”

Keenan moved with stealth and pulled his taper close to the unrolled parchment. “This is it, the letter outlining his plans to gift land in Scotland to his English Barons.” He smiled broadly. “It’s found.” He handed Serena his taper and began to roll it.

Keenan stopped. A frown wrinkled across his forehead. “It’s too effortless,” his words tickled a path down the back of Serena’s neck. Keenan peered around the room, into dark corners. “This whole thing,” he said. “It was too simple to find. It doesn’t feel right.”

Serena nodded. “What shall we do?”

A loud voice from the outer room threw her heart into her throat, and she jumped into Keenan’s arms. As the study door opened, Keenan’s lips descended upon hers. Firmness and purpose melted quickly into a rapid pounding of heat as it flooded through her. Fear mixed with excitement as danger enveloped Serena inside and out.

“Aha, we’ve found Maclean.”

Serena recognized Frampton’s victorious voice through her haze of sensations. She felt dizzy but also full of energy all at once.

“He’s not alone,” a woman’s voice said.

Serena stiffened. It was the woman from the bridge.

Keenan pulled back slowly and smoothed Serena’s cascading curls along her collarbone. He seemed to be taking all the time in the world. The touch raced through her, battling against the shock of seeing five pairs of eyes on them at the doorway, one pair belonging to the king.

“Pardon us, Yer Majesty,” Keenan drawled. “We found this cozy room tucked away and but succumbed to a quick dalliance.”

“You were given a room for that, Maclean,” Frampton said sharply. George walked into the study and stopped in front of them. Frampton, Gerard’s murderers, and Elizabeth Darlington followed him into the room.

George studied Keenan. “Just found this study to sate your lust a bit, huh?” George asked. He then yanked aside Keenan’s coat and pulled the rolled scroll from a side pocket. “Did this just happen to fall into your coat while you were frolicking?” George unrolled the letter but his look showed that he already knew what it was.

“The letter, aye, I saw it just sitting on yer desk,” Keenan said calmly. “I fear for the security in this house, Frampton.” His eyes moved to the fidgety man.

“What?” Frampton said raising his already pinched nose in the air.

“This letter is gold to the Jacobite cause, yet it is left just lying here for any to take.” Keenan said.