Lexi escaped from the courtyard, confident no one was paying attention to her. All eyes were on the golden queen and her armored groom. Not everyone in the crowded space looked happy at the turn of events, but Braden had forewarned her the people would turn against the monarch. Naught would change that.
Her priority was to locate Callum and Braden, assuming they had received the documents and come to the Palace. If there was any chance of escape, it had to be attempted now while her uncle was distracted.
She sneered. Distracted was an understatement. He pranced like a fop, holding court, lapping up the blatantly insincere congratulations.
Harried servants were setting out trestles in the Great Hall as the last of the guests filed through the Honor Roll stations. Her heart raced when she espied Callum and his brother walking away from the scrivener’s table.
She’d an urge to rush into her husband’s arms but was mindful over-exuberant behavior would draw attention. Instead she curtseyed before him. His eyes widened as a broad grin split his face. How she had missed those brown eyes, the sensuous mouth.
It came as a relief that he too sensed the need for discretion. He took hold of her hands and kissed her knuckles, the warmth of his lips sending rivers of longing flowing in her veins. “I have missed you, my lord,” she murmured, fluttering her eyelashes.
“Not as much as I have missed you, Lexi Ogilvie,” he whispered.
Braden loomed. “We must leave now while the Hall is being set up for the banquet. We walked from Canongate. It’s ten minutes. Can you make it, Lexi?”
She took a breath. “I’d walk to the ends of the earth to be with Callum,” she murmured.
Callum’s gaze smoldered, but his brother frowned. Perhaps he had sensed her momentary hesitation. Braden had made no secret of his intention to travel beyond the ends of the earth to rejoin Charlotte. If Callum decided to go with him, what would happen to her? Did she have the courage to join them when there was no guarantee they’d be together wherever the tides took them? If Callum stayed, what would become of them, two penniless orphans in a perilous political climate?
Callum took her elbow and guided her toward the ornate double doors. Sentries stood on guard but made no attempt to stop the flow of people in and out. She directed their progress to the deserted laundry and thence to the stable. The aroma of Macadam’s pipe hung in the air, but he was nowhere to be seen. “I wanted to thank him for his help,” she said, “but I’ll have to make do with a final kiss for Ryssa.”
Determined not to cry, she stroked her beloved mare then, sensing the men’s impatience, pecked a quick kiss on her nose.
“We must walk sedately,” Braden warned. “As if we are out for a breath of air.”
They were soon off across the gravel and through the gates. To her relief, no challenge came and before long they were climbing the creaky stairs to a garret atop a seedy tenement.
~~~
Braden was reluctant to interrupt Lexi and Callum’s passionate reunion. At the first opportunity, he’d have his hands all over Charlotte’s lush body, delving his tongue into her warm mouth. If he got the chance.
He cleared his throat. “Decisions have to be made,” he said soberly, sounding to his own ears remarkably like his late father.
Callum must have heard it too. He turned his face away from Lexi, but kept his arms firmly clamped around her. “Aye,” he conceded.
“Sit,” Braden said.
Since there was no seat other than the tiny pallet, Callum and Lexi clung to each other on its edge.
Braden paced the few steps the chamber permitted. “I see no purpose in my remaining here any longer,” he said. “I can only tell you what the future holds for Queen Mary. About a month from now, she and Bothwell will face an army gathered by the lords opposed to the marriage. They will lose.”
Lexi gasped and huddled closer to Callum.
“This is reality, Lexi. Bothwell will be given safe passage from the field, Mary will be imprisoned.”
“Safe passage?” she murmured.
“Aye, but his story isna a happy one. He’ll attempt to gather forces to put his wife back on the throne, eventually appealing to the Danes for help.”
“His first wife was Danish,” she whispered.
“The one he recently divorced?” Callum asked.
“Nay,” she replied. “He married Anna according to Danish law years ago, then abandoned her in Flandres.”
“Exactly,” Braden confirmed. “She will wreak her revenge and have him imprisoned. He loses his wits and dies in a Danish prison.”
Lexi shuddered. “Will Mary regain the throne?”
Braden hunkered down in front of his sister-by-marriage. “These are difficult tidings to believe, but she will be forced to abdicate in favor of her son. After a year in prison she will escape to England, where unfortunately she’ll be seen as a threat to Queen Elizabeth.
“She’ll spend eighteen years as a prisoner in various English castles before she’s beheaded.”
Lexi’s hands flew to her throat. “An anointed Queen? Beheaded?”
Braden deemed Lexi sufficiently informed of what the future held. She needn’t be told the gruesome details of the botched execution. “Aye,” he whispered, coming to his feet. “Now ye have the knowledge ye have to decide what to do with it as far as yer own lives are concerned. I ken where my destiny lies. Mistress Beth tells me Leith Water leads to the sea. It meanders through Dean Village a little over a mile from here. I’ll be downstairs awaiting your decision, then I intend to leave. I canna wait long.”
Leaving them to ponder their future was difficult but he’d done what he could.
~~~
Braden’s declaration and his foretelling of history shook Callum to the core. His brother’s determination to leave shouldn’t have come as a shock, yet the reality hit him with more force than he’d anticipated. The prospect of losing his brother again was wrenching, the notion of drowning with him terrifying—and in any case he wouldn’t leave Lexi.
However, if he stayed with her in her own century, what could he do to help her? He had nothing to offer; no home, no money, no hope. He was a dead man. The only thing he had to give was love. Perhaps she’d be better off without him. She must have relatives who might take her in?
Braden had found Charlotte in a future century, but how might Callum and Lexi fare in a strange new world if they decided to drown with him and survived the journey?
He gathered his wife into his embrace, resting his chin on top of her head. “Do ye have any objection to accompanying him to the river?” he asked, swallowing the lump in his throat. “’Tis dangerous to stay here and I want to say goodbye in the fresh air, far from this stinking hole.”
She clung to him. “Ye’ll miss him terribly,” she whispered.
It was some consolation she believed Braden truly thought his drowning would lead him back to Charlotte, and that he fully intended to take his life. “He has to go. He loves her. And I will stay, because I love ye.”
She tilted her face to look at him. “No one has ever loved me before, but if ye want to go with him, ye must.”
“Do ye want me to go?” he asked, dreading the answer.
“Nay,” she replied hoarsely, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m in love with ye.”
He brushed his lips on hers, filled with a strange contentment despite the bleakness of the situation they faced. “We’ll survive, Lexi. We have the advantage of knowing what will unfold in the coming months. We can be prepared, thanks to Braden. Let’s away to see him off at Dean Village.”
He hated his carefree sounding words, but had to keep up her spirits.
Arm in arm, and with heavy hearts, they descended the stairs to reunite with Braden in the filthy alley behind the House of Fine Repute.
NO ESCAPING DESTINY
The shadows were lengthening by the time they reached Dean Village, darkening the rushing torrent. Leith Water was in flood. Lexi had a lifelong fear of water. Fear con
stricted her throat as the three stood together on the steep bank.
Callum let go of her hand and embraced his brother. She grieved for their agony. Despite Braden’s determination to drown, his face was ashen. Neither man spoke. Lexi had no siblings, but she recalled the pain of her parents’ unexpected deaths. “’Tis an angry river,” was all she could think to say, regretting her words instantly.
But Braden clasped his brother’s biceps. “Better it is so. It will carry me to the sea quickly, and to Charlotte.” He turned to Lexi. “I ken ye’ll take good care of Callum,” he rasped.
“Aye,” she murmured through her tears, filled with a peculiar wish they were going with him. Even drowning seemed preferable to what they might face.
Jaw clenched, Braden pulled the amber jewel from inside his doublet, gripped it in his fist and stepped into the swiftly flowing water.
Callum and Lexi clung to each other as Braden waded in deeper, his slops floating up around him. The sorrow shaking her husband echoed in her bones. When the river took his brother, Callum raised his hand in a silent salute.
A sudden shout sounded over the rush of the torrent. “A-lex-an-dra.”
They turned together. Panic seized her at the sight of James Hepburn galloping towards them atop his red horse.
Callum grasped her arm and pulled her towards a wooden dinghy lying upside down at the edge of the river. “It’s our only chance.”
He heaved the boat upright, shoved it into the water and held out his hand. “Get in.”
She shook her head, eyes fixed on the rushing water. Braden popped up for a brief moment, arms flailing, then disappeared again. “Nay,” she croaked.
With one leg in the dinghy, Callum pulled her to his body, then lifted her into the boat. She fell into the bottom as he used an oar to shove off. “I grew up on the sea,” he growled. “I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”
“Alexandra,” her uncle yelled, closer now. “Come back.”
He reined to a halt on the bank as the tiny boat spun around, caught in an eddy. “I want to make amends, Alexandra,” he shouted, his hands cupped to his mouth. “I no longer want my brother’s death on my conscience.”
At last! Atonement. An admission of what she’d always known. “We must go back,” she screamed to Callum, lunging at his arm.
“I dinna trust him,” Callum shouted.
She struggled with her husband, willing him to understand how important it was her uncle was asking for forgiveness, admitting—
The dinghy bumped the bank. She lost her balance and fell heavily against Callum. He let go of the oars to catch her. The boat capsized and they were tossed into the swirling water.
~~~
The deafening roar of his own heartbeat swamped Callum in a maelstrom of terrifying memories. He was back in Corryvreckan. A strong swimmer, his first instinct then had been to save Braden or Donal. When he surfaced and took a deep breath he saw Braden go under again, churning in the eddy that had trapped the dinghy. He struck out towards him, but then it came to his beleaguered brain. Braden didn’t want to be saved.
Lexi!
It was Lexi who needed him.
Treading water, he searched frantically for any sign of her. There was none. He took a deep breath and dove beneath the water, peering into the murky depths until he feared his lungs might burst.
He resurfaced, rubbed his stinging eyes and caught sight of his brother, one arm clamped around Lexi’s shoulders, making for the bank.
They’d stolen Braden’s chance to return to Charlotte. He couldn’t let such a thing happen. With his last ounce of strength he swam towards the pair, intending to relieve Braden of responsibility for saving Lexi.
Hepburn had dismounted and climbed down the bank, holding out his arms, ready to take his niece.
Callum nodded to his grim-faced brother and took hold of Lexi. She panicked, flailing her arms and screaming as Braden sank beneath the water. “Stay calm, lest ye pull us both down,” he shouted, but she seemed not to hear him.
“Bring her to me,” Hepburn shouted.
Callum struggled to make headway, but his limbs had stopped working in the frigid water. His lungs were on fire. He lost his grip on his wife.
Suddenly she calmed, looking to her uncle. “Why doesn’t he jump in and save us?” she spluttered.
Callum tried to explain Hepburn was wearing his wedding armor, but she’d already gone underwater, and he’d no breath left.
He sank slowly, calmed by a strange inner voice telling him it was his destiny to drown, and there was no escaping destiny.
PART THREE
REUNION
I'M NAY A THIEF
Braden blinked open his eyes and cautiously moved his head, groaning when it came to him he was lying on the same cursed riverbank where he’d done his best to drown. His lungs had been scoured with lye soap. His throat was parched.
Odd how drowning dried up a man’s throat. Or nearly drowning. His last memory was of trying to save Lexi. Confounded woman. At least Callum had managed to rescue her. He despaired of having to try again, but he’d best be quick about it before Hepburn apprehended the lot of them. He’d rotted in one jail and didn’t intend to end up in another.
He reached for the amber jewel, needing its courage. Frustrated at not finding it, he fumbled in the folds of his doublet, sitting up abruptly when it came to him he’d lost it.
“Looking for this?”
He narrowed his eyes, relieved to see the amber barrel swinging from the end of a fishing line. The sun’s rays glinted off it, obscuring his view of the person who held the pole. He squinted, smiling when he espied a boy sitting above him on the bank.
The lad was four, mayhap five. He wondered what he was doing out fishing as night fell, then it came to him the sun was up. He must have lain out all night. What had happened to Callum and Lexi? He scanned the bank. No sign of them, or Hepburn. How ironic if they had drowned and he hadn’t!
He came to his feet slowly, then hunkered down. He was a mite light-headed and didn’t want to alarm the child. “That golden fish ye’ve hooked belongs to me,” he quipped. “Do ye plan on returning it?”
The boy scowled. “O’ course. I’m nay a thief. I caught it fer ye, fearing it might float away.”
He dangled the line in front of Braden who unhooked the precious jewel, instantly feeling better when he had it in his grip. “I thank ye,” he said.
The boy shrugged. “I thought ye were a drowned man.”
I thought so too.
Braden looked back impatiently to the river. He couldn’t very well drown himself in front of the lad, especially since the flood of yestereve seemed to have abated. “Will yer father nay be worried?” he asked.
The boy shook his head. “Got no da. Disappeared during the rebellion, though Ma hopes he’ll come back some day.”
Braden supposed the boy meant the Chaseabout Rebellion and was saddened such a canny lad had no father.
“But Uncle John watches out for me,” the boy declared proudly. “He loves my mother.”
Braden chuckled. “”And does Uncle John live with yer mother?”
He was amused when the boy looked at him with shock. “Nay. Me and my mother live here,” he said, cocking his head away from the river. “Uncle John lives in Edinburgh.”
For the first time, Braden noticed houses and other buildings clustered along the riverbank. Strange he hadn’t noticed them last night; however, he’d been somewhat preoccupied. He wondered if he’d been swept downstream. “This is Dean Village, right?”
“Aye, and I live in Bell’s Brae.” He pointed to a steep cobbled lane. “Right there.”
A silence stretched between them. Braden studied the lad. There was something vaguely familiar about him.
Abruptly, the bairn came to his feet. “My mother’s a famous author,” he boasted. “She’s reading one of her stories this afternoon for folks in Edinburgh. I’d best be on my way. She’ll be looking for me.”
Bra
den’s beleaguered lungs refused to work. Was it possible? “I’d like to ken the name o’ the lad who saved my jewel,” he rasped.
“Fraser,” the boy replied, gathering up his rod and line. “Fraser James Stewart Ogilvie.”
Braden trembled from head to toe as the boy made for the lane. “Wait,” he shouted, holding out the amber. “Take this to yer famous mother,” he said, hoping his eyes didn’t betray his emotion. “Tell her it’s a gift from an admirer.”
Fraser eyed him suspiciously, but then walked back cautiously to the bank and accepted the jewel. He examined it carefully, smiled then ran off up the steep hill.
“Sturdy little legs,” Braden rasped proudly before his knees failed him and he collapsed back on the muddied bank.
CANONMILLS
Charlotte heard the arrival of John’s carriage in the street. “He’s here already,” she complained to Augusta, “and there’s no sign of Fraser. Why on earth did you allow him to go down to the river when you were aware I was going out today?”
Augusta waved a dismissive hand and took another sip of her liqueur. “Don’t worry. He’s fine. He loves to fish and the water is low at this time of year. You’ll see him when you get back.”
Charlotte worried about her sister’s increasing penchant for drinking earlier in the day. “But I like to say goodbye before I go out,” Charlotte whined, aware she was too protective of her son. But he was all she had of Braden. At five he was a replica of his sire. It brought great consolation, though longing swamped her whenever she looked at him.
He was a good child, strong and courageous. Such a boy deserved a father, and John Reade had offered to take on the role often enough. But her heart belonged to Braden. Marrying John wouldn’t lead to happiness for either of them. He claimed he was willing to take the risk, but she wasn’t.
Since his discovery two years ago of Braden and Callum’s names on the guest list at Queen Mary’s wedding he’d spent endless hours in libraries and repositories throughout Scotland trying to trace the two men. To no avail. Tears threatened. Why not face the truth? Braden was never coming back.
Highland Tides Page 15
