"Paddy is bright and quick and has a sweet disposition. 'Tis a joy to teach him, a thrill to watch him master each new task. But…" Rowena hesitated. Six years of living among the Gunns, of keeping her thoughts and plans to herself, made her cautious. Lady Glenda had befriended her, but if Eneas learned that she intended to have him ousted as Paddy's guardian—
"But…?" Lady Glenda prompted.
A knock at the door spared Rowena from lying. At the lady's command, servants entered with steaming buckets of water. Donald himself ducked behind the screen in one corner and dragged forth a small wooden tub. He set it before the fire with great ceremony, and the servants filled it quickly, then departed.
"Shall I send up a maid to help you?" Donald asked.
Rowena shook her head, dazed by the attention. "I'm used to seeing to myself. Thank you for all you've done."
"Aye, well, I cannot claim all the credit. Before he left on the earl's business, Lion asked me to arrange things thusly," said Lady Glenda.
Rowena's smile faded. "I see."
"Two of the Sutherlands will be outside your door tonight," Donald told her. She did not make the mistake of saying she did not want a guard. "If you need aught else, send one of them down to me in the hall." The steward bowed to her, then to Lady Glenda, and headed for the door.
"A moment, Donald," Lady Glenda called after him. "I've instructions to give you for the morrow." She turned to Rowena. "Enjoy your bath and sleep well. In the morning you can tell me more about the challenge you're facing."
"Thank you, my lady. You have been more than kind."
Glenda smiled wryly. "While I cannot claim to know what lies between you, if anything, I know how it chafes to have your life ordered by a strong man. No matter how well meaning. If it is any comfort, I am exceedingly glad he did, for I've enjoyed meeting you. And I've said that about precious few people these past three months. I look forward to our chat tomorrow." She exited with the grace and dignity of a queen.
Rowena sighed, drained and buffeted by the events of the day. Her emotions had suffered more ups and downs than a skiff on a wind-roughened loch. The quiet of the room wrapped around her like a healing balm. How lucky she was to have this haven.
Lion arranged this, taunted a little voice. Did he think to share this room with her, to take up where they had left off six years ago? Well, he'll soon learn that she was not the foolish, gullible lass she'd been then.
Stiff with determination, Rowena stalked to the tub and shucked off her dirty clothes. "Ah," she sighed as she sank into the hot water. It melted the ache from weary muscles and banished the cold. "This is heaven." There were days on the trail when she'd thought she would never be warm again.
The urge to linger, to steep in the water as she used to when she was young and carefree, was tempting, but the bath was cooling fast, and if Lion was planning to invade her chamber, she did not want him to catch her thus. She picked up a handful of soft soap, sniffed appreciatively at the sweet scent of heather and began scrubbing her grimy arms.
Working quickly, she moved on to unplait her braids. It was not easy to wet the long, curly hair, harder still to work a lather through it, but her scalp itched fiercely. And she was not climbing dirty into Annie Shaw's bed. As Rowena washed, she tried to keep her mind on meeting the earl, but her thoughts kept straying to Lion.
He'd deserted her six years ago, yet stuck by her side tonight while she tended young Harry.
"There are things you should know," he'd said.
What explanation could he give that would excuse his actions? If his father had changed their plans, Lion could have met her and told her so. Had he feared that she would cry and beg him to stay or to take her with him?
Bah, it did not matter now.
She ladled water from the bucket over her head to rinse away the soap. If only she could be shed of her problems as easily, she thought as she stood and wrapped about her the long linen towel left warming by the fire.
Bundled in a thick bed robe, she crawled into bed and leaned against the pillows. She stared into the fire and drew the wide-toothed wooden comb through her tangled hair, her thoughts on the morrow. She'd arise early, don her best gown and see if she could catch the earl in the hall breaking his fast. With any luck, Eneas would not have had a chance to corner the earl and fill his ears with lies.
Tired as she was, Rowena found sleep elusive, her thoughts haunted by images from the past. Images of Lion.
Had he arranged for her to have this room so he could join her? The notion was terrifying. And thrilling.
"Ah, it feels good to be free of that cursed place, if only for a few hours," Bryce observed as they cantered away from Blantyre and headed into the hills.
"Aye," Lion answered. A slender moon lit their way, the air smelled fresh and clean. It had not been easy for them to leave unobserved by the edgy earl's guards, but soon after coming here, he had secured a copy of the postern gate key. Once away from the castle, he and Bryce had walked down to the village and gotten their horses from Roderick, a Sutherland working there as the blacksmith's helper.
Lion would have been grateful to leave behind the stink of intrigue and corruption, except for his worry about Rowena. The lass had always been headstrong. Though he'd warned her to stay away from Alexander and had left Red Will to watch her, his gut was by no means easy on that score.
It was incredible seeing her again after all this time. The wonder of it had struck him anew as he'd sat beside her in the hall, watching the play of emotion over her face, marveling at the changes the years had made. Rowena was here, free of Padruig, free to take another man. Lion wanted to be that man. He would be that man.
Winning her would not be easy.
Lion grimaced. Somehow he had to overcome her distrust.
"You're worried about the meeting with the MacNabs. Surely Robbie will listen to you. His father and yours are old friends, and you played together as lads."
Lion shook away one problem to shoulder an even larger one, the one that had brought him to Blantyre. "It's not Robbie I'm worried about. Aedh is chief of the clan, and he will have given his son specific orders about what to tell Alexander concerning his barbaric plans."
"Aye, the MacNabs are much like us and most other honorable clans—not eager to make war on their neighbors."
"But I fear the MacNabs are a stubborn lot."
Bryce chuckled. "You are not?"
"At least I know when to bend." Lion's father had taught him that, among other valuable lessons, and he'd never missed Lucais Sutherland's sage advice more than he did now. Lion had fought his way across France, had intrigued with the best—or worst—of them at French Robert's court, yet he'd never felt as inadequate to a task as he did this one. The enormity of trying to protect whole clans of men who resented his interference, while trying to find proof of Alexander's treason, was nearly overwhelming.
"You think Robbie will not bend?"
"I would not have, were I eight and ten and off on an important mission for my old bear of a sire. If you've ever seen Aedh in a rage, you'd hardly blame the lad."
They crested the rise and raced along a high plateau that seemed to stretch endlessly toward the horizon. A rocky outcropping came into view, black against the new grass. Lion headed toward it, slowing so the stallion could maneuver between the boulders. The trail turned sharply, then opened into a tiny meadow. The clearing teemed with horses and with men warming themselves before a few small campfires. Lion was about to complain about the lack of sentries when a wee man sprang from behind a rock.
"We was on the point of sending out a search party," Heckie grumbled, his weathered face cracked by a smile.
"Have the MacNabs arrived?" Lion asked, dismounting and handing the reins to a waiting clansmen.
"A half hour past. 'Twas Robbie who fretted about ye."
Lion nodded and set off in the direction of the largest fire and the group of men in the red-and-black tartan of the MacNabs. "Robbie!" He clapped Aedh's heir on the back.
A lanky lad with the MacNabs' carroty hair and a lean, freckled face, Robbie turned, "You are late."
"Couldn't be helped," Lion said easily. "Have you been offered food and drink?"
"Aye. But we've precious little time for a meal on the heath. I'm to speak with the Wolf, give him Da's reply and start back for home tonight," Robbie said curtly.
"Come, walk apart with me," Lion said, not wanting to air his plans before a herd of curious MacNabs. The fewer who knew what was afoot, the better. Forcing a smile, Lion led the way to a flat gray rock out of earshot of the others. He leaned a hip on the stone and chose his words with care. "I'll wager your da will not accept the earl's offer to join in the peacemaking."
"Peace?" Robbie snorted. "More like an excuse to murder and pillage and steal the lands of the clans he wipes out."
"Agreed."
"Then why are you with him? Da was that curious."
Lion's smile was natural this time. "I can see him now, storming and fuming and cursing the greedy Sutherlands."
"Well…" Robbie's fair face flushed.
"We want the same thing," Lion said, leaning forward as he spoke. "We want Alexander Stewart gone from the Highlands."
"Then why are you helping him?"
"Because we have little choice if we want to survive. By declaring him viceroy and sending him to subdue the lawless Highlanders, the king has given him leave to do as he will. The clans who oppose him oppose the crown. They can be declared outlaws without ever lifting a sword," he added grimly.
"That is unjust," Robbie growled.
"Aye, but it's the truth of the matter. We must deal with it and find a way to thwart him…within the law."
Robbie's pale eyes narrowed. "What would you have us do?"
"Agree to join his army."
"What?" Robbie slapped his hand against the boulder. "Da would never agree to that—nor would I. 'Tis monstrous."
"I know, but my father and I could come up with no better scheme than to stall for time."
"Till you can assassinate him?" Robbie asked hopefully.
"If only we dared." Lion sighed. "Murder Alexander, and the life of every Highlander involved would be forfeit."
"Better that than to ally ourselves with the fiend."
"Is it? Aye, well, to some I suppose it is." Lion's voice hardened. "William Ross believed that and paid a heavy price."
"We heard he was outlawed for attacking Blair Abbey and killing the priests therein."
" 'Tis a lie," Lion said softly. "Will came to Blantyre, just as you have. He refused service in Alexander's army boldly and openly, only to find himself cast into the dungeons to think it over. Still Will held firm. A MacPherson offered to help Will and his lads escape."
"A MacPherson? But—"
"Aye, it was a trap. They were pursued by Georas's men. The Rosses got as far as Blair, where they sought sanctuary. Only Alexander is no great respecter of the church's sanctity."
"Alexander sacked the abbey himself?"
"The MacPherson did, on the earl's orders. They saw to it Will was blamed, and with all of the Rosses who'd been with him dead, who was to say otherwise?"
Robbie swore and sat down on the rock.
"Exactly. And he's not the only one. Padruig Gunn met with Alexander two weeks ago and refused the call to arms. He died on the way home, killed from ambush." Lion scrubbed a hand over his face. "I feel partway responsible. I waylaid Padruig same as I have you, but I could not make him understand that we are not dealing with a sane or honorable man. Alexander is obsessed with raising an army. Any who will not side with him, he eliminates—quickly and without mercy."
"But—but how can this go on? Surely the king must be told what his brother is doing."
"My father and others have been in Edinburgh these past months trying to make Robert understand what terror he has unleashed on us. But Robert is too weak to control his brother. Our only hope lies in finding proof of Alexander's ultimate plans." Lion waited a heartbeat. "Once the Wolf has raised his army, what is to prevent him from conquering all of Scotland?"
"Jesu, do you really think he'd turn on his brother?"
"In an instant. He's mad—mad with the need for power. If we can bring proof before the parliament, they will declare Alexander a traitor and take the matter out of Robert's hands."
"We had not realized…" Robbie swore again. "But Da would skin me alive if I pledged the MacNabs to such a cause."
"It takes time to call up a clan," Lion said. "Time that we can use to find proof of Alexander's treasonous intent."
"What if you don't find this proof? We MacNabs believe a man's word is his bond. We would be honor bound to ride under that madman's banner, to murder our neighbors and—"
"I know." Lion sighed. "My father and I wrestled with that same problem." Lion had argued that an oath sworn under duress should not be binding on the soul, but Lucais was not as flexible. "And found no easy solution. So we must succeed."
Robbie frowned. "Damn me, I do not know what I should do. Da was most specific about my refusing to join the earl."
If Lion had learned one thing in his time away from Scotland, it was when to push and when to retreat. "What harm would there be in waiting a day or two to deliver Aedh's message?" he asked. "Pretend to be undecided. Let Alexander woo you with his ale, his food and his proposals, but when he asks for a commitment, play coy as a virgin before her wedding night. Meanwhile, keep your ears open. The Frasers, MacDonalds and Keiths joined the earl but think as I do. The Cummings, Chisholms and MacPhersons are firmly with Alexander. The Shaws of Blantyre sit the fence. Many of them do not like the earl, but he seduced the Lady Glenda into letting him use Blantyre Castle as the headquarters for his campaigning."
"But, Glenda is skinny and homely as a horse's—"
"He's using her. And she, poor thing, fancies herself in love. Desperately in love. I fear that Glenda would do anything, sacrifice anyone to keep Alexander."
"I will remember all you have said." Robbie sighed and rose from the rock. "And I will follow your suggestion…at least till I see how things are at Blantyre. Da has always valued your father's opinions. He'd not want me to disregard this warning out of hand. But I cannot promise that I will swear an oath of fealty to the earl."
"Your forbearance does you credit." Lion clapped the lad on the shoulder, well pleased with the way things had turned out. "I'll ride on ahead, if you do not mind lingering on the trail a bit. It would not do for us to arrive together, or even to seem overly friendly. Alexander is suspicious enough as it is, seeking for hidden meaning in every man's speech, seeing assassins lurking in every dark corner."
"Mayhap we'll get lucky and someone will kill him."
"It will be lucky only if that someone is Georas MacPherson, for 'twould rid us of two mad wolves."
Chapter Five
Dieu, she was beautiful, Lion thought as he gazed down at the sleeping Rowena.
The sun was just coming up, and he had yet to seek his own bed. His eyes were gritty with fatigue, his nerves wound tight, but the need to see her had transcended all that.
A shaft of pale morning light slanted in through the narrow window, shimmering on the gold in her hair, turning her skin the color of rich cream. She slept on her side, one hand tucked under her chin, her lips curved in a half smile.
Desire caught him, low and swift. Like a punch to the gut, it drove the air from his lungs. He struggled to breathe and drew in the intoxicating scent of soap and Rowena. He wanted to lie down beside her, match his mouth and then his body to hers. He'd known passion and fulfillment, but never had the urge for a woman clawed at him so fiercely.
Because this was not just any lass. It was Rowena. His love. His lady.
He reached out to touch her, hand quivering slightly, then stopped. It was too soon. A raw groan tore from his throat.
She stirred. Her lashes lifted slowly, lazily. Recognition sparked in their hazy blue depths. She started to smile, that small, cat-in-t
he-cream smile she'd often worn during those summer months they'd spent together.
"Ro." He touched her hair, breaking the spell.
"You!" She jerked away, eyes wide and panicked.
"It is all right, Ro," Lion said softly. "I—"
"All right? How can it be? What are you doing here?" Rowena sat up, flushed and flustered, eyes darting about for a route of escape. "What are you doing here?" she asked again.
"Waiting for you to wake up." Lion smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I sent Sim down for your breakfast. Will you share it with me, Ro?"
Eyes so dark they were almost black—eyes that had gone soft as velvet when she'd told him she loved him—glinted with fury. "I'd sooner dine with a viper. Get out of my bed and my room."
"It's not your room, exactly. Nor your bed, either, though I must admit I had no urge to crawl into it when the occupant was the delicate Lady Anne."
Hurt shimmered briefly below her anger. He was perversely glad to see she wasn't as immune to him as he'd feared. And as she doubtless wanted to be, given her poker-stiff posture.
"I never slept with Lady Anne," he said gently.
"I could not care less with whom you sleep."
Icy words. Clearly she had more control over her temper than she used to. Then, she'd been wont to fly at him with fists and nails when his teasing goaded her.
Pity. He'd have welcomed a physical tussle to ease the tension in his gut. But if he touched her, he'd lose the slim measure of control he had over his own emotions. And that could be the ruin of the plans he'd laid as he'd waited for her to waken.
So he merely smiled, marveling at the changes the years had wrought in her. The promise of beauty had been there when she was fifteen and the bud scarcely open. Now here she was in full bloom, delectable as a ripe peach. It had been both pleasure and penance watching her sleep, yearning to touch, to sample, but knowing he must not. Not yet.
"I thought it best we speak alone," he said softly.
"I don't want to speak with you at all. How did you get in here, by the by?"
God, she was enchanting. Keeping his eyes fully on hers, he enjoyed the play of emotions she was not quite capable of hiding. She'd always been more vividly alive than any person he knew. Mayhap that was why his heart had refused to let her go though she'd wed another. "Through the window. You still like to sleep with the shutters open, I see."
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