Lord William would never approve of the betrothal. Adam was second son, his position not nearly substantial enough to covet a marriage. Although Adam’s brother was aged and the line of succession was bound to gift the title to him.
“Armstrong is interested in you. Surely Lord William would approve if I ask him, and once I speak to Alexander, I’m sure I could make it happen,” the queen said, and smiled with shining eyes. “Adam has become a noble friend to my husband.”
Frances plucked an invisible piece of lint from her sleeve, and considered it. “I don’t know, Joan, if I’d want to wed such a man. How could I ever be what he wants?” She was definitely not in the same league as Adam Armstrong. And additionally, she really wasn’t wont to wed anyone. Her heart hardened at the thought of loving someone again. The queen wouldn’t take nay for an answer, so she made light of her wishes.
Armstrong approached and bowed to Joan. “My lady, Joan, your majesty. It is pleasing to see you this evening. How does King Alexander do? Well, I hope. I await his return as I am sure you do.”
Frances heard the king was away on business, but refrained from asking about it. She didn’t want to overstep her bounds with the queen.
Joan gave a curt nod. “Master Armstrong, my husband is well. Thank you for asking. So good of you to join us this eve. All the ladies are excited you’re here.”
Adam bowed again and when he rose, a dark curl covered his eye. He tossed his head and grinned. “There’s only one lady who draws my attention. My hope is that she’s excited to see me.” He raised his eyes to glance at her, and Frances lowered her gaze to her lap. His eyes seemed to undress her and they darkened with passion. Definitely, a look with a spark of bedevilment.
Frances was about to rise and curtsey as was appropriate in court, but he waved his hand. The lady he spoke of was she, and now that he’d come, Frances wished to be away. She didn’t like the way he watched her or how his eyes followed her around the hall. His attentions would best be spent on the simpering ladies who vied for it.
“I do hope you’ll dance with me, Lady Frances. You look lovely this eve.” Adam smiled in his devilish way, the crease in his cheek deepening.
He was definitely a cock in bright plumage, and one she needed to be wary of. Frances knew he spoke falsely because she didn’t look lovely. She was invisible in the chamber full of fashionably-dressed ladies.
Never would she tell the queen her true opinion of the man, and she admitted only to herself, he daunted her. She detested his attention and wished his eyes would gaze elsewhere. Though she jested with the queen about him, he did not appeal.
“I look forward to it, Master Armstrong,” she said in her most appeasing voice.
His eyes downcast and he noticed a scuff on his boot, and instantly set off to correct the blemish. The man was self-obsessed; more than any other she ever met. Frances scoffed under her breath.
Joan leaned forward. “You’re a fortunate woman to have such a man take notice of you. I shall ask Alexander when next I see him what he thinks of the match.”
Frances nodded slightly because she couldn’t disagree with the young queen. None really knew how to deal with her yet. For one thing, she had only been queen for about a year. And secondly, none discerned how much influence she had with the king. For all Frances knew, all Joan had to say was ‘I want that man for one of my ladies-in-waiting’ and it would be done.
She was doomed. Frances sat back and tried to put Adam Armstrong and the queen’s desires from her mind. The ladies took to a dance which didn’t involve the men. Several lords meandered to the ale barrels and stood on the side watching and waiting until they could rejoin the ladies. They appeared akin to hawks flying overheard spying mice or some such morsels to swoop down upon and ravage. How she hated being in court.
A shadow appeared to their left, blocking the candlelight from the wall of small candles nearby. Frances looked up to see Lord Lombard standing before them.
“Your majesty,” he said, bowing low before Joan.
The queen smiled slightly, inclining her head. “Lord Lombard, I had not heard you were in residence. Have you come for a stay? My husband went to Londontown and is not present. I fear if you’ve business to attend, you will need to await his return.”
Frances’ shoulders tensed, for he didn’t appear to be well. His eyes dulled and his aged face long. An instant concern came to her because she worried for his daughter, Winifred, her esteemed friend. Lord Lombard’s land bordered Lord William’s, and she and Winifred became close and shared many confidences.
One of those confidences was the rumor that Lord Lombard was looking for a new wife. He was far too old, in her opinion, to want to wed again, and Frances couldn’t imagine being married to such a horrid man.
Only last week Frances sent another missive to Winifred, but she had yet to receive a reply. For months she’d corresponded and hadn’t heard a word. It was unlike her friend, not to reply.
“Is Winifred unwell?” Frances sat forward, ready to jump to her feet.
Lord Lombard ignored her question and said, “I have no business with the king. Majesty, I’ve come to seek aid. My daughter has been missing for a fortnight, mayhap longer. Alas, I’ve been away and I’m not sure how long she’s been gone. We’ve searched everywhere. I ask that you send men to help search the woods.”
She couldn’t believe what she heard. “Winifred is missing?”
“It is not like her to be absent from our keep and she did not leave word of travel. The servants haven’t seen her in weeks. I thought mayhap she came here, to see you, Lady Frances, but the steward said she hasn’t come.”
“I will certainly ask the chamberlain send men if you deem it will help.” The queen leaned forward and took the lord’s hand, her empathy visible with the look of worry.
Frances’ heart tightened. Her friend would never leave without informing her father or the household servants. “I wondered why she hadn’t replied to my missives. Lord Lombard, has Winifred received missives, gifts, or the sort?”
His eyes shadowed with unease. “Nay, there were no gifts left by a suitors of late, but what has that to do with her missing? She has reached marriageable age.”
“Has anyone come to call on her?” Frances couldn’t shake the thought that something dreadful happened to her friend and she suspected foulness.
“Not to my knowledge. I await your men, Majesty. If they can come at the soonest?”
“Of course, my lord, I’ll take care of the matter right away.” The queen released his hand and rose to set off.
“I don’t want ye to worry, Lady Frances. I hope her disappearance is but a misunderstanding. She verily went to visit friends and perchance forgot to leave word.”
Frances considered that, and because she didn’t wish to upset the lord, she nodded. She wouldn’t disallow something similar happened, although an ill feeling sat in her stomach. Winifred wasn’t one to take off without leaving word though. She was the most courteous person Frances knew and the most kindhearted.
“I will write Lord William and ask that he send men to help search. Pray, send word when you find her. I shall be beset with worry until you do.”
“I indeed shall, Lady Frances. Good eve.” Lord Lombard strolled off.
She watched him until he exited through the large doors of the hall. Frances couldn’t help her misgivings. Winifred alluded many times that her father had a dark presence about him. If he’d harmed her then why would he seek aid? Mayhap it was his way of avoiding suspicion? She couldn’t reason it and turned her attention back to the dance.
As the night wore on, Frances bided her time until she might retire. The drawback to staying in the castle was that she had to share a chamber with six other ladies. Most of whom gossiped, and spent nights away from their chamber. Frances would never tell on the ladies, because it was really none of her affair who they slept with. And of course the ladies always trusted her with confidences. She would never betray them.
Frances stopped in her tracks. Men weren’t allowed on the upper floors where the ladies were housed, but she couldn’t speak the affront. She wondered briefly how they had passed the guard posted at the steps. Apprehension furrowed her brow, and she considered sounding an alarm. Yet she wouldn’t do so because she didn’t want to get involved. There were many underhanded dealings within the castle.
Hurrying now, she quickly reached her chamber and was about to enter when Armstrong called.
“My lady? Are ye to bed?”
“Aye, I bid you goodnight.”
“Attend me, Lady Frances. Why are you retiring? You didn’t dance with me yet. The night is still early.” He took her arm and began leading her to the steps.
She gently pulled away. “I do apologize, sir, but my head is beginning to ache. I really must retire. Thank you for the offer of the dance. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of ladies who will be honored to replace me.”
Before he could retort, she entered her chamber and quickly closed the door. She leaned against it, hoping he wouldn’t forthright and enter. That would be unmannerly. His footsteps eventually retreated to the stairs, and Frances breathed a sigh of relief.
She went directly to the desk and began her message. Lord William would understand that she wanted to return home. The image of it came to mind, and she missed the view from the barbican, the open land and breezes coming from the meandering fields. Now that spring arrived, she’d miss the fields blooming with the first wildflowers of the season.
Frances hastily wrote that she could no longer stay in Edinburgh. She was going to write that she was unwell, but she didn’t want to worry Lord William. He was a sweet, kindly man, and always had her best interest at heart. Instead, she indicated that her service to the queen ended, which it had. The queen gave her permission to return home. She added the news of Winifred’s disappearance and implored him to send aid.
When she finished her missive, she tucked it within her belongings, and would ask someone to deliver it on the morrow. She settled in bed and in her prayers, she begged for God’s protection of Winifred, and she thanked Him for saving her from having to dance with Adam Armstrong. Frances thought he might have spoken to the queen for she was singing his praises a little too much.
The last thing Frances wanted was to involve the queen in her romantic relations, and be embroiled in a political fracas. If she was forced to, she probably would wed the man as the queen wished for the sake of peace and quiet in the country, and thereby saving her neck in the process.
Throughout the remainder of the night, the ladies entered and left the chamber. Their noisy conversations kept her awake, as well as their snickers and laughter. She put a pillow over her head to block out the noise but her efforts were futile.
With morning soon to appear, Frances rose and dressed in a plain gray overdress, with a long-sleeved white tunic underneath. She pulled her hair back and tied it in a coif. Frances was a no-nonsense kind of person. She liked plain garments and didn’t like to draw attention. If the queen got her wish and she wed Armstrong, it would be difficult to stand next to him, because he always dressed impeccably in overt colors.
Frances made her way to the morning room and quickly ate. She then went to the castle’s offices to have her missive taken to Lord William. Once she accomplished her task, she went out to the gardens the queen so favored. The king gave the queen a substantial allowance and part of it she used for its purpose.
Frances ambled along and enjoyed the fresh morning air. Some of the court already awoke and were also taking a morning stroll. She stopped to sit upon a stone bench and tried not to worry. That was easier said than done. She wrung her hands thinking of her plight with the queen’s wish to wed her off, Winifred’s disappearance, and her wish to see Ermintrude. The sooner she left the better.
The queen, followed by her attendants, walked along the path and noticed her. Joan bid her attendants continue on, and only a few guardsmen stood nearby. She took a seat on the stone bench next to her.
“It is such a lovely morning, is it not?”
“I do enjoy being out this early, my lady. I’m surprised to see you. Were you not at the dance until late in the evening?” Frances pressed her skirts closer to her, and moved a few inches to give the queen more room.
“I left shortly after you. I do believe Alexander will soon come to me. I confess I want to see what all the bother is about.”
Frances couldn’t laugh, because the queen was quite serious in her tone. “By bother, I assume you mean sex. Be patient, Joan. He’s probably wary since you’re so young. He likely wants to ensure you will enjoy it. I would not be so hasty.”
The queen giggled, and Frances reminded herself that she was quite young. Being in such a position, the queen wanted to ensure her place within the king’s household. The only way to do that was to bear an heir. Many men married lassies far too young to take to the marriage bed. In a way, Frances admired the king for his gallant behavior. Most men would not give a care to the age of their wife and would expect the wifely duty be performed regardless of their tender years.
“Have you seen the viably handsome Armstrong this day? I saw him earlier and thought mayhap you were meeting him for a secret rendezvous?” The queen turned and removed the ribbon Frances used in her hair. “This is bothering me. Frances, you really should take better care with your hair. I shall fix it,” Joan said, and began to redo the coif.
“Nay, I haven’t seen him and you know I’d never meet anyone for a secret anything.” Frances laughed. “I wrote to Lord William in hopes he’ll send an escort. I only just took the missive to the office for delivery. I’m anxious to return home.”
“Oh, blighter it! Your hair is unruly. I cannot get it to twist correctly. We can still make the arrangement with Armstrong if you go home. I shall ask Alexander when he returns from Londontown. He’s meeting with Henry again.” Joan pouted. “I wanted to go along, for I miss my brother and hoped for a visitation. I detest not knowing what is happening.”
It had been rumored the queen and her brother, the king of England, were quite close. That was another reason she tried to be cautious around Joan. The lady was used to getting her way and she used her resources to affect those around her. If Joan disliked you, she could truly make your life difficult or nonexistent. Frances was glad they’d formed a friendship.
Joan repositioned her head so she could finish the twist she’d done to her hair. She wound the tie around and it was indeed tighter and wouldn’t fall out. Yet Frances would certainly have an ache in her head by suppertime as tight as it was wound.
“I shall be glad of your assistance.” Frances couldn’t disagree and tried to seem somewhat interested, but not too attentive.
A servant came along and stopped before them. “My lady,” he said, and handed a missive to her. “This arrived last eve with an emissary, but it was too late to deliver it.”
Frances took it and thanked him. She held the missive, fearful it would be filled with the vile hateful words as the others were. The seal on the outside was that of her uncle’s. A worrying frown came. She wasn’t expecting word from him.
“Who is from?”
“Lord William.” Frances opened the missive and began reading. Her heart tightened with each word. “Oh nay! I must leave at once.” She stood, ready to run forth. “My lord has taken ill and it appears he may die. The healer is having him take care of his final business and she bids me to hasten home.”
“Oh, Frances, I’m sorry to hear that. Come, I shall help you ready.”
“I couldn’t ask that, Joan. I thank you for your friendship. I shall pack and leave this day if I have your permission.”
Joan took h
er arm and began leading her away. “Of course you do. And humor me, Fran, I’m trying to sneak away from the attendants.”
Frances nodded, but her thoughts were on her beloved Lord William. She worried and hoped she’d make it home before he passed. There were considerable questions raised and likewise much she wanted to say to him.
CHAPTER TWO
Gunn Clan
Highlands, Scotland
Sean Gunn was the quiet sort. Most discerned that about him and didn’t expect him to be forthright. Yet many became boisterous at the evening celebration, teasing and jesting. His friends knew not to test the bounds of his humor, for when he was in a mood, there were no jovial words to bring him out of it.
The Gunn clan held their annual spring festival, celebrating the end of the planting season. All the farmers were invited with their families to join in the festivities. Many looked forward to the merriment, but not Sean, for he couldn’t keep himself from being distracted.
Peace reigned in the highlands. Except for the minor skirmishes amongst the Highland clans, there was little to cause concern. The king was busy attending to country in Edinburgh, taking a young wife, and seeing to political matters with England and France. That made most in the northern region gladdened because they didn’t want to be bothered with the king’s plights which often had nothing to do with them. The Gunn clan’s rapport with the king was tedious at best since their laird did not hold fondness for their leader.
Sean sat beside his comrades, James, Duff, and Colm, awaiting their laird, Grey Gunn, his cousin. They couldn’t partake to the drink until their chieftain joined them. Their main role within the clan was to protect the laird, his family, and the clan when necessary. Impatience wore on them, but they still wouldn’t disregard their duties and take to revelry until they were bid to do so.
Grey finally finished the task of welcomes and greetings to those who attended and came to sit with them. Sean filled his cup with the brew they kept for certain celebrations. The harsh drink usually sent them to bed much earlier than they would like. And it often awoke them earlier too with a sore head and stomach. But it made them feel good while drinking it.
A Highlander In Peril (Gunn Guardsman) Page 2
