Page 3 of The Magnificent Rogue

“I may be a poor ignorant Scot, but even I’ve heard about Bess Shrewsbury’s charges.” He sat down on the cot and leaned back against the stone wall. “I assure you, everyone in Scotland found the scandal very interesting.”

“I did not give you permission to sit in my presence.”

He ignored the sharp injunction, his gaze searching her face for any change of expression. “She’s Mary’s daughter?”

“Everyone knows that Mary has only one child, and he sits on the throne of Scotland.”

“Not according to Bess Shrewsbury. She claims her husband and Mary enjoyed the closeness of Mary’s captivity to the utmost. What was her story? That Mary bore him two children while he was holding the queen captive for you on his estate all those years?”

“Bess Shrewsbury is an ambitious, spiteful woman. I reprimanded her for spreading such rumors.”

“And neatly silenced her.”

“The earl of Shrewsbury gave himself selflessly to the task of keeping Mary comfortably imprisoned. He’s a loyal servant of the crown.”

“And Mary was a beautiful young woman and known to be selfish and headstrong…a lonely, passionate woman held captive away from the world. It’s only reasonable she would reach out to the only man within her reach. Was there just the daughter and not another issue?”

“I told you, Bess Shrewsbury was a liar.”

“So there was only one.…” His tone was musing. “But that was more than enough. You couldn’t let it be known, could you? There was already too much outcry about you keeping Mary prisoner. Since half of Scotland already looked upon Mary as a harlot, I’m sure you had no trouble convincing her to give up the child. But if the truth had come out, there was always the chance she might have claimed the earl had raped her, and that would have given her supporters in the north of England cause to join with France or Spain to overthrow you.”

“This is all supposition.”

He leaned forward. “Then let’s carry the supposition a little further. Suppose this child is Mary’s daughter. Suppose she is the illegitimate daughter of the queen of Scotland.”

“Mary is no longer queen. She abdicated in favor of her son.”

“But James has never been popular with the people. There are many nobles who would be pleased to find another Stuart to rally around. That wouldn’t please you, would it?”

God’s blood, he had a facile mind. She had known he would probably reach this conclusion, but not with such quickness. “Supposition again. You’re very good at it. However, the child is only sixteen, hardly a threat.”

“You were not a good deal older when you ascended to the throne, and they called you a young lioness.”

A rush of fierce satisfaction surged through her. “Yes, by Judas, they had to reckon with me. I sank my teeth into them and made them know a woman could—” She shrugged. “But I was extraordinary. Even if this is Mary’s daughter…” She trailed off, then added, “And I don’t say that she is. Do you think I’d fear a child unschooled in court intrigue?”

“Yet you fear something, or I would not be here.”

“I fear nothing.” He continued to stare skeptically at her, and finally she said, “ If the child is who you say she is, she could be used as a pawn. It would be wise to remove her from English soil.”

“So you send her to Scotland where James would be eager to dispose of any claimant to the throne and rid you of the task.”

“No!” She tried to temper the harshness of her voice. “I send her to Craighdhu. You will wed her and take her to your island and keep her there.”

“Oh, I will?”

“There are already too many rumors in the air concerning the child. I’ve tried to keep her isolated, but if someone should discover—No, she must be taken away as soon as possible.”

“And why by me?”

“Because you’re the most suitable. Do you think I chose you blindly? I’ve searched over three years for a solution to this problem. You’re not perfect, but you’ll have to do. You hate the Spanish, so you’ll not go running to Philip with the girl. You’re of noble blood and warrior stock. You have no bonds to anyone but your Highlanders and show no ambition to climb higher than you are in the world.”

“Because there is no place higher to climb than to be lord of Craighdhu.”

He meant it. The simple words were spoken with absolute sincerity and authority. She had seen rulers of nations who did not exude that air of power.

“Nonsense. But it suits me to have you believe that arrogant folderol. As long as you cling to that notion, you will not use the child to try to seize a crown.” She frowned. “But you must stop raiding Philip’s ships.”

“Indeed? But I may continue to raid yours?”

“I believed you when you said that you did that just to prick at James, but you must not indulge in such mischief again. I won’t have you killed on the seas when you should be at Craighdhu protecting the girl. You must keep her safe.”

“I could see how my death could be inconvenient to you,” he said ironically. “I regret to refuse you, but I have no desire to become embroiled in your plots, and certainly no desire to wed.”

“You must wed sometime.”

He shrugged. “When I do, it will be with someone who can bring something to Craighdhu besides bloodshed.”

“You’ve not shown any reluctance to shed blood in the past.”

“But it’s an oddity of mine that I prefer to choose when and where I fight.” He met her gaze. “And it won’t be in your cause, Your Majesty.”

“Nor in James’s, evidently. What will you fight for?”

“Craighdhu,” he said simply. “Only Craighdhu.”

“Good,” she said. It was the answer for which she had hoped. “Then if the girl is at Craighdhu, she will be secure.”

“Perhaps I’m not making myself clear. I will not wed the girl.”

“You will wed her.” She paused. “Or I will take your henchman out and hang him and then have his body dismembered into so many pieces, there will not be anything left to bury in your precious Craighdhu.”

He went still. “I’ve not heard that Your Majesty is in the habit of killing innocent men to enforce your will.”

“The girl is innocent too. I will not have her caught in a trap because of her birth. I thought her safe for a few more years at Sheffield, but now I cannot…” She stopped. “You must take her away at once. I will have your word on it.”

“You expect me to keep a vow forced on me?”

“You will keep it. Percy tells me a Highlander’s vow is sacred. You will give me your word to wed her and take her to Craighdhu.”

He was silent.

“Do not make me prove I mean what I say. I have no desire to kill your clansman. There is too much death in the air right now,” she added wearily.

He still did not speak, his gaze searching her expression for any sign of weakness. She showed him none.

He muttered a curse and then said between his teeth, “You have my vow.”

“That’s not enough. Give me the words.”

He said with icy precision, “I promise to wed the girl and take her to Craighdhu.”

Relief flowed through her. It was done. “Very sensible. You will be released at dawn and given back your purse and horses. You will go directly to Sheffield, where the girl resides in a cottage a few miles from the village. She’s cared for by the vicar and his good wife. Sebastian Landfield is a godly man and has devoted the last thirteen years to her well-being. Percy will give you a letter I’ve written bidding the vicar give you custody of the girl. She will be no trouble. The vicar assures me she is presentable and has been raised to be a loyal Protestant and a meek, virtuous maiden.” She moved toward the door. “You’ve made a wise decision, my lord.”

“I didn’t make it, you did. I prefer to make my own choices.” He rose slowly to his feet. “And when I don’t, it makes me…annoyed.”

He was more than annoyed. He was in a cold rage, and she again felt that intriguing thrill of fear. She had all the weapons in this encounter, and yet she still experienced a moment of uncertainty and regret. There were so few interesting men in the world, and she would probably never see him again. It was a pity she was being forced to sacrifice him to the girl. “Someone must win in every battle.”

“You have not won yet, Your Majesty.”

“I have your word.”

A flicker of indefinable emotion crossed his face. “Yes, you have my word.”

“Then I have won.” Her lips thinned. “And upon my oath, if I hear of you mistreating her, I’ll send an armada of my own to Craighdhu to punish you.” She crossed the room and shouted, “Percy! Let me out of here. I’m done with him.”

“That’s not quite true, Your Majesty,” MacDarren said softly. “You’re not done with me yet.”

“What do you—” She glanced over her shoulder and saw in his expression not only anger but implacable resolution. MacDarren clearly had no intention of permitting her to walk away a complete victor. Perhaps she had been wrong, and she might indeed see him again. It was not a totally unpleasant thought.

She smiled at him. “Good evening, my lord.” As the door opened, she swept out of the cell.

···

“A bridegroom,” Gavin murmured. “What a felicitous thought. You staying close to the hearth while your meek young wife hovers over her loom sewing a fine—”

“I’m glad you find this so amusing,” Robert said grimly. “I should have let Her Majesty chop you to pieces.”

Gavin winced. “The idea is obscene. I choose not to dwell on it. Besides, it’s time you wed. I’ve grown weary of all this traveling about.”

“Then you wed and go sit by the fire.”

“But no one has arranged such a fine marriage for me.” He quickly changed the subject as Robert shot him a lethal glance. “We go direct to Sheffield?”

“The queen was most explicit. It appears she’s in a great hurry.”

“Why?”

Robert was silent a moment, thinking about it. “Mary. She’s going to let it happen.”

“You think she’s going to sign the order to execute Mary? But she’s been avoiding it for weeks.”

And Elizabeth had said twice to him that she did not want to execute Mary of Scotland, Robert remembered. Yet he was well aware that desire and necessity did not always go hand in hand. God knows, some of the decisions he was forced to make as chief of his clan were not to his liking. The urgency with which she had insisted that the removal of Mary’s daughter from England take place at once did not make sense unless she had decided to take that final, deadly step in her dealings with Mary. He said slowly, “I believe she will either sign the order or find a way to have Mary executed that will shift some of the blame from her own shoulders.”

“So she’s feeling a twinge of guilt and wants the lass away from the uproar before she kills her mother. What a gentle lady.” Gavin shook his head. “You think the girl will bring trouble to Craighdhu?”

“I won’t let her.”

“Trouble follows royalty like bees do flowers.”

“I won’t let her,” Robert repeated, enunciating each word with precision.

“You’re angry.”

“Oh, yes.”

“But you’re going to obey the queen?”

“I gave my word.” He paused. “But the way I keep it may not be in the fashion she wishes.”

Gavin gave a low whistle. “We may have some interesting times ahead.” He moved restlessly on his cot. “It’s cold in here.”

Robert turned his head. “You were hot before. Do you have the fever again?”

“I don’t think so,” he said.

Muttering a curse, Robert got up from his cot and threw his own blanket over Gavin. “Don’t lie to me. I’m going to have enough trouble hauling a woman over those mountains in wintertime. Do you think I want to carry your corpse all the way back to Craighdhu too?”

“May the saints forbid I cause you such trouble.” Gavin settled himself more comfortably under the layers of blanket. “In order to prevent such an inconvenience, I’ll reluctantly accept your generosity. I would never want to—”

“Be quiet.”

“My, you are testy. But I’ll forgive you. It must be bridegroom nerves that—”

“Gavin.”

A low chuckle issued from the younger man.

Robert settled down again on his cot and closed his eyes. Gavin’s depression regarding his failure as a henchman had entirely vanished, and his usual puckish humor was rapidly rising to the forefront. Ordinarily, Robert would have welcomed the transformation, but his mood was too savage for him to appreciate drollery. He wanted to break something, dammit. No, not just something, he wanted to break the neck of that royal red-haired bitch who had so arrogantly involved him in her intrigues. Well, she would not succeed. To wed Mary’s daughter would be to put the only thing he held dear in jeopardy. He would not have Craighdhu made into a battleground for the factions that were tearing England and Scotland apart. Let them all destroy themselves fighting over their religions and ambitions for the throne. When they were all gone, Craighdhu would still be there, stronger than ever.

By the Saints, he would see that it was.

He was almost asleep when Gavin spoke again. “Would you like me to play the pipes at the wedding? I know they’re generally played only for battle, but there is a certain resemblance in this case, isn’t there?”

“No pipes.”

“Or I could—”

“Gavin, go to sleep. ”