by Emma Prince
The road sloped downward gently toward the cluster of thatch-roofed buildings at the base of the hill. They rode past a blacksmith, whose windows were thrown wide despite the cool, damp air to let the heat from his forge out. Several more shops lined the road, including a bakery, a cloth merchant, and what appeared to be a cooper’s workshop, but Lancaster rode on to the very outskirts of the village.
Set away from the rest of the village was a building that appeared to be part inn, part ale house. The shutters were all closed against the overcast afternoon, though Mairin thought she heard the lilt of a flute and the faint thump of a drum coming from inside.
As the nobles dismounted, handing their reins to a boy waiting outside, the door opened. A cacophony of music and laughter spilled out, along with the strong smells of ale, perfume, and bodies. A buxom redhead of middling years filled the doorway, planting her hands on her wide hips and giving the newly-arrived men a slow grin.
“Searching for some entertainment, milords?” she said, tossing them a saucy look.
“These honorable lords are my guests, Flora,” Lancaster said, sauntering forward.
“Well, any friend of the Earl is most certainly a friend of the Bee and Flower,” Flora, the apparent proprietress—or mayhap “madam” was a more apt term—said smoothly. “Come in from the cold, milords. You’ll find plenty of ways to warm yourselves inside.”
The nobles filed in, pounding each other on the back and chortling over the evening that awaited them. Mairin and Niall trailed after, but once Lancaster disappeared inside, Niall halted, forcing Mairin to do the same or risk running into him.
Flora began closing the door behind Lancaster, but then her eyes alighted on Niall. She plastered a demure expression on her face and clasped her hands before her. It had the effect of pushing her breasts, which practically fell from her bodice already, precariously higher.
“How could I have nearly missed the likes of you?” she purred, her gaze moving over him slowly. “Come in, dearie, and—”
“We are only here to guard the Earl,” Niall cut in flatly.
“We?”
Niall angled his shoulders so that Flora could see Mairin behind him.
“We are his bodyguards.”
Flora looked confused for a moment, then crestfallen, then resigned. The cajoling mask dropped from her features, and suddenly she was merely a tired woman of middling years.
“He’ll be well protected inside, I assure you,” she said. “I hire the best guards to keep my patrons safe—and my girls.”
“Then we’ll wait outside.” Niall leaned back against the bawdy house’s wooden side, crossing his arms over his chest with a resigned frown.
Flora shrugged. “You’re welcome to wait in the stables if you like—it won’t be so bloody cold in there.”
“How long does Lancaster normally…visit?” Mairin asked.
Flora’s ruddy brows arched and she pursed her lips. “He’s usually only with one of my girls for a quarter hour or so. But he always falls asleep directly after and snores on for an hour or two.”
“Thank ye,” Mairin said with a nod.
Flora tilted her head, then turned back to the noisy, crowded common room inside. Just before she pulled the door closed behind her, Mairin saw that she ratcheted her face into its artificial smile once more.
Mairin turned to Niall, keeping her voice low. “We need to feed the pigeons.” She glanced over her shoulder, but even the stable lad had retreated from the cold. “And send a missive to the Bruce.”
Niall assessed the sky. “We have mayhap an hour before night begins to fall.”
An embarrassed flush warmed her face. She’d made the same calculation, assuring herself that they could complete their errand not only before Lancaster emerged from the bawdy house, but also before darkness settled over the land. She wasn’t sure if she should be annoyed or touched that Niall had automatically accounted for that particularly mortifying vulnerability of hers.
She shouldn’t have any reaction to him at all other than ire. He’d made this mission infinitely more difficult—and humiliating—for her by encouraging Lancaster and the others to think she was no different than the lasses inside the bawdy house.
They strode into the stables and called for the youth leaning against one of the walls inside to retrieve their horses. But just as the lad emerged from the stalls with their animals, Hugh Audley stumbled into the stables.
“Boy, fetch the flask from my saddlebags, and be quick about—” He cut off abruptly when his gaze landed on Niall and Mairin.
Mairin froze, her heart leaping into her throat. There was no way Audley could know what they were about, she told herself, yet panic at being caught clawed wildly in her chest.
A slow, grin spread across Audley’s splotchy red face. “I know what you two are up to.”
“Is that so?” Niall said. His voice was remarkably calm, yet he subtly angled himself in front of Mairin.
“Oh aye.”
Mairin barely heard him over the pounding of blood in her ears, yet Audley’s smirk was knowing. He swayed slightly on his feet, lifting his chin toward their waiting horses. “You saw what fun we are going to have inside and thought to slip away to have some of your own, I reckon.”
Mairin nearly sagged with relief. He assumed they were sneaking off for a tryst, not sending a secret missive to the Bruce alerting him of the nobles’ plans.
Niall chuckled softly. “Aye, you’ve caught us. But don’t worry, we’ll be back before Lancaster is done with his amusement.”
Cautiously, they took their horses’ reins and began to walk around Audley toward the stable door.
“I bet she’s a wild one, that Scottish hellcat,” Audley said in a loud whisper to Niall as he passed.
Niall gave another forced laugh and clapped Audley on the shoulder as if in shared mirth, yet his blow landed so hard that Audley stumbled and nearly fell on his face in the hay. Before the nobleman could regain his balance, they slipped out the stable door.
Chapter Fifteen
Once they were outside, Niall drew them several paces away from the bawdy house. It was clear from her pale face and wide eyes that Mairin had experienced a fright at Audley’s sudden appearance.
Truth be told, so had he. If they’d actually been found out, he would have killed Audley to protect his and Mairin’s mission. But the death of one of Lancaster’s loyal nobles would have unleashed a multitude of new problems and dangers for them.
Luckily it hadn’t come to that. Still, he paused for a moment, pretending to fiddle with a strap on his saddle to give Mairin a chance to chase away the lingering fear with a gulping breath or two of bracing, fresh air.
They mounted in silence and spurred their horses west out of the village. Niall regarded the castle warily as they rounded its south side, but he imagined that even if the guards spotted them passing, they wouldn’t raise an alarm. All the same, it wasn’t until they entered a stand of oaks, their bare limbs overlapped densely enough to block them from view of the castle, that Niall let himself breathe easier.
But the tension around Mairin seemed to be building like a storm cloud. He knew she was furious with him. They would likely have it out in the cave, for it would be their first opportunity since he’d insinuated a claim over her that they could talk in true privacy. He steeled himself for the tempest’s breaking as they dipped into the network of sunken limestone caves where they’d left the pigeons.
Mairin dismounted and began digging in her saddlebags before he could reach her. She retrieved a pouch of birdfeed along with a few smaller items, then smoothed her plain wool skirts and strode toward their cave without looking at him.
He followed her into the mouth of the cave, pausing to let his eyes adjust. As the contours of the limestone crevice emerged from the dimness, he was struck by the sound of soft cooing.
All four of the birds had found a nook or ledge upon which to nest. Their gray feathers made them almost impossible to pick
out from the shadows, yet they were all there.
As Mairin sprinkled their seeds and oats onto the ground, they fluttered from their perches and began eagerly pecking away. She gave them the entire pouch, waiting until they shuffled about instead of poking at the ground, their bellies apparently full. Then she turned to one of the limestone walls and began fiddling with the other objects she’d brought from her bag.
She held a nub of charcoal, he realized, and a scrap of parchment.
“At Pontefract,” she murmured as she wrote against the cave wall. “L with Audley, Willington, Hereford…”
She continued to scrawl the names of the nobles who’d joined Lancaster, keeping the letters small so that she could squeeze as much information as possible onto the piece of parchment.
“Doncaster and Tickhill still in L’s possession. Damory and…” She lifted her head and looked at him over her shoulder. “What was the name of the other lord who’ll be arriving at Pontefract in the next few days?”
“Badlesmere.”
“Damory and Badlesmere arriving shortly.” She straightened, examining the missive for a moment. “Is there aught else to add?”
“Nay, I think you’ve got the most essential parts.”
She folded the parchment several times, until it was no larger than her thumbnail. Then she shook out a bit of twine.
“If ye hold the bird, I’ll tie this to it.”
Niall uncertainly approached the pigeons, which still milled about on the cave floor. He selected one and carefully closed his hands around it to pin its wings to its body.
It was incredibly light and delicate in his hold. Through the bird’s smooth feathers and fragile ribcage, Niall thought he felt its heart beating in a rapid tap. As Niall lifted it, the pigeon jerked its head this way and that, trying to lock one golden-orange eye on him while also plotting an escape.
Mairin approached slowly, murmuring reassurances to the bird. To Niall’s amazement, the pigeon stilled in his hands, its iridescent green neck extending in curiosity toward Mairin. Though she claimed no special affinity with birds, she clearly had a way with the animals.
She looped the twine around one of the bird’s legs, just above its clawed foot. Then she held the tightly folded missive in place and tied the twine securely.
When the missive was fastened to her liking, she reached out to take the bird. She closed her small hands over Niall’s, exerting the slightest pressure to indicate that he could let go. He slid his hands out from under hers and down the bird’s body, reluctantly slipping free of her gentle touch.
He followed her as she strode from the cave and scrambled out of the ravine where the limestone had cracked and sunken. Atop the slush and dead grass covering the cave’s roof, she brought the bird close to her face.
Niall stood just near enough to make out her words as she whispered to the pigeon.
“Fly fast and true, friend.” She kissed the curve of the bird’s head, then lifted her arms and tossed it into the air.
The pigeon unfurled its wings and flapped hard, shooting into the overcast sky. Some instinct must have guided the bird, for it flew due north rather than circling back to the cave. Mayhap it knew that its mate waited in Scone, Niall mused.
They made their way back into the ravine, but Mairin didn’t return to their waiting horses. Instead, she went into the cave once more. Niall knew what was coming. Now that their most important task had been taken care of, it was time for them to have it out.
Aye, he would pay for his decision to claim her as his own in front of Lancaster and the others, but he wouldn’t back down from his decision. And he was willing to go toe-to-toe with a furious Scottish warrior-woman over it.
The remaining three pigeons had already returned to their roosts when they re-entered the cave, apparently no longer interested in Niall and Mairin now that they’d been well fed.
Mairin spun on her heels and faced him, her eyes hard and her arms crossed over her chest.
“We need to talk.”
“Aye, we do.”
She set her jaw and lifted her chin. “You shouldnae have touched me in front of Lancaster and his nobles yesterday.”
“You were about to fall.”
“Nay, I wasnae.”
Niall’s own annoyance kindled to life then. “I saw the shake in your hands and the unsteadiness of your footing.”
She clenched her fists into the crooks of her elbows at that, as if she could take away what had happened yesterday with the force of her will now.
“Even if I had fallen, I could have handled it myself without ye swooping in like some gallant knight, and I a damsel in need of saving.”
There was her pride again. Niall bristled at the accusation in her voice.
“I have never said that you are helpless, nor that you need saving. I have always stood up for you, Mairin, whether it be with the others in the Corps or with that bastard Lancaster and his idiot nobles.”
“Except yesterday, when ye implied that I was yer…” She swallowed, color rising to her cheeks. “Yer whore.”
Niall wasn’t normally quick to anger. In fact, he’d gained a reputation in the Corps as an exceedingly level-headed, even-keeled man, despite the fact that he was only four and twenty. Very little ever ruffled his feathers to the point of anger, yet Mairin’s hot frustration wheedled under his skin. Aye, he knew he’d been an arse, but he’d been trying to protect her, damn it.
“I acted to shield you from their insinuations and abuses,” he snapped.
“Ye weakened me before them. Now they’ll never see me as aught more than yer bedmate, no’ a warrior, no’ someone they should fear and respect.”
Heat surged in Niall’s blood. He huffed a breath. “What would you have me do, then?” he demanded. “You were going to fall. I could have either let you crumple to the ground before them, giving them even more reason to be contemptuous and vile, or I could have come to your aid, letting them believe that they would be crossing not only you but me if they insulted you again.”
“But I dinnae belong to ye,” she shot back, yanking her arms to her sides and taking a step toward him.
Niall worked his jaw for a moment. “Aye, I know that very well,” he ground out.
“Ye had no right to lay claim to me before those men,” she continued. “We are supposed to be partners, but ye undercut me instead.”
“Is this about the mission, or your pride? Because I am trying to see us through this alive, by whatever means necessary, not earn the respect of those damn boorish nobles.”
At that, her eyes flared wide with outrage.
Devil take it. The last thing he ought to do was call into question her dedication to the mission. She’d devoted her whole life to this work, just as he had.
And just like him, she carried a deep-seated fear in her heart that she would never be able to prove herself good enough, capable enough, dedicated enough. That she would never be able to escape the circumstances of her past.
“That is it, isnae it?” she asked, her voice tight and soft. “Ye dinnae trust me. No’ to put the mission first, no’ to take care of myself—none of it.”
In a sudden flash of clarity, Niall realized just how vulnerable Mairin still felt, even though four years had passed since she’d been freed from captivity.
She’d toughened herself with training, given herself skills and strength to use against anyone who thought to harm her again. Yet there were still chinks in her armor, cracks that revealed the fear she had never completely escaped.
He still stood by his decision yesterday—it gave Mairin extra protection in that vipers’ den while also allowing them to carry out the Bruce’s assignment. Yet he now understood why his actions had hurt her so deeply. He’d reminded her of that vulnerability, made her feel as though she was at the whims of the men around her once more.
As she’d said, he’d cast himself as a gallant knight coming to her rescue, but the fact was, he was vulnerable too—afraid. Afraid that she w
ould be hurt. That he would fail to protect her.
He’d accused her of putting her pride before the mission, but his own actions hadn’t been purely for the benefit of their assignment, either. Nay, his need to keep her safe was far more complicated than that.
He would have to be honest with her, reveal the shame he still bore if he ever hoped to reclaim her faith.
He held her stormy gray eyes, which were sheened with angry tears.
“Do you know how I came to join the Bruce’s Bodyguard Corps?”
Mairin blinked at his abrupt shift in topic. “All I ken is that Finn Sutherland took ye before the Bruce and spoke on yer behalf. With the Bruce’s blessing, Finn brought ye to the Corps training camp two years before I arrived.”
“Aye, but do you know why I asked Finn to let me join?”
She pulled the corner of her lower lip between her teeth. “Back at the inn, ye said that ye wanted to take a stand against evil men. That ye needed a direction and a focus for yer desire to do right.”
“I also said that before I joined, I’d been unable to defend my family from those who sought to harm them. Do you know the reason for my sense of powerlessness?”
“Does it…does it have to do with Logan?”
Niall released a breath slowly. Revealing all of his past to her would mean exposing the shame he’d fought so hard to bury. But for Mairin, he would bare his very soul if it meant regaining her trust.
“My father has been ill for nearly my entire life,” he began. “He is a proud man, and not one to ask for help. He managed to maintain Trellham Keep and oversee his lands, but little else. Which meant that as naught more than a lad, I became the man of our family in many ways.”
Mairin listened intently as he continued, a small crease between her brows.
“My elder sister Rosamond and I did all we could to take burdens from our father’s shoulders, but doing so necessitated that I stay close to my family and the keep. I don’t know what the practice is in Scotland, but in England, the sons of noblemen are sent to foster with others of their station, learning all the skills that will be required of them as men. I should have been sent to a neighboring nobleman’s estate at six or seven, but my father needed me.”
