Highlander's Sweet Promises

by Tarah Scott

  “And I shall ride to Fotheringhay with the dawn,” Julian offered. “We must discover who is supporting his cause.”

  “Aye.” Cameron nodded grimly.

  A silence fell for a time, a silence Julian finally broke. “And how is the king? Is Thomas Cochrane still the cat who manipulates the royal mouse? Or does James caress Hommil the Tailor and Torfifan the Fencing-Master once again?" Both lowborn men had been royal favorites in the past, before Thomas Cochrane had arrived.

  Cameron shot Julian a dark glance.

  Thomas Cochrane was a sore subject with the earl; he had nearly lost Kate over the man's schemes, which had seen the king’s loyal brother, Mar, accused of witchcraft and then murdered.

  “Aye, ‘tis still Thomas alone who receives the fond kisses and favors of the king, and he is well-guarded,” Cameron finally answered with a sardonic twist of his lip. “My time for vengeance hasna yet come, Julian. I must wait still.”

  “Mayhap not long,” Julian said with a yawn. Rising to his feet, he stretched before adding, “He's a rash, overbold fellow. He might well have made a fatal error with this unsavory black money plot.”

  "Aye, the anger amongst the people has grown uncommonly strong, but dinna underestimate him,” Cameron warned softly. “Though I dare say justice will prevail in the end, Julian.”

  “Aye, but it oft needs a helping hand,” he replied with a hollow laugh. “Very well then, I’ll be off to England with the sun.”

  “Have a care, lad,” Cameron cautioned, escorting him to the door. “These are dangerous times. Have a care.”

  3

  the hand of fate

  Liselle leaned out of the second-story cottage window, soaking in the warmth of the sun as the soft summer winds caressed her face.

  There was more to the handsome young Lord Julian Gray than met the eye.

  Of that, she was certain.

  His charm, combined with an air of mystique and a smile of pure decadence, made him fascinatingly irresistible. And his shrewd, gray eyes reminded her of a hawk in search of prey—far from the drunken fool that Nicoletta claimed him to be. Her sister had sworn to her that he was a simpleton and a scandalous lord, intent only on securing his own pleasure.

  Liselle smiled a secret smile. She might have agreed with Nicoletta if she hadn’t accidentally stumbled upon him one evening perched on the rooftop above the Scottish prince’s window. He crouched there, listening to the man’s pompous ranting for a time, before dropping lightly to the ground and disappearing into the darkness.

  Intrigued, Liselle had begun to follow Julian, much to Nicoletta’s annoyance and Orazio’s concern.

  Santo Ciélo! Liselle rolled her eyes. They trusted her so little!

  Their response to her initiative had been to accuse her of falling in love and so they’d promptly assigned her cousin, Pascal, to watch and dictate her every move since.

  Liselle had retaliated by evading her vigilant cousin, and it hadn’t been easy. Once free, she had slipped into Julian’s chamber at the inn, her goal being to find proof that the man was more than Nicoletta claimed.

  Indeed! He could well be a potential adversary and mayhap someone to watch closely in Scotland!

  Pure instinct and training had helped her to narrowly avoid the snare set by his window. Thus forewarned, she had tiptoed through his chamber with extreme caution.

  And then she had seen him sleeping in his bed.

  Her heart had pulsed in excitement as she’d crept closer to stare down at him in admiration. And she’d stared for far longer than was prudent, but only because his chest had been bare, exposing firm muscles in such a way that left her deliciously breathless. But then she had spied a bundle of parchment resting upon his saddlebag nearby. Reminded of her purpose, she’d just taken a step towards it when Nicoletta’s wail had drifted up from below.

  Dedìa! Her sister could be overbearing at times! And for sure, it must have been that fool, that bábio Pascal, who’d betrayed her whereabouts.

  As Nicoletta’s shrieking grew closer, accompanied by the pounding of feet up the stairs, Liselle had succumbed to the temptation of annoying her sister just a tiny bit more. In one fluid movement, she had slipped out of her gown and into the bed of the sleeping Lord Julian Gray.

  But she hadn’t expected Orazio to be the one to burst through the door.

  Nor had she expected Julian to be so warm, and even more handsome up close.

  She smiled, reliving again the moment he’d discovered her next to him.

  “Liselle!”

  Liselle jumped, startled out of her pleasant memory.

  Nicoletta’s voice was far too close. It was too late to escape. Turning, she spied her older sister charging up the steps, her red-velvet skirts firmly clutched in both hands.

  “Do not even think of running from me!” Nicoletta warned, punctuating each word with an angry huff. “Lord Gray? Why Lord Gray? And just what have you done with him?”

  “Òsti,” Liselle scowled, tossing her hands up in the air. “I am not a child, Nicoletta!”

  Nicoletta arrived out of breath, but still managed a snort of disgust. “Ah sì, and toying with a shameful buffoon proves that?”

  Liselle lifted her chin, letting her hazel eyes flash, but remained silent. Crossing Nicoletta was always a dangerous proposition.

  “Lord Gray is of the most scandalous ilk, Liselle!” Nicoletta continued passionately, wiping her brow and fanning her cheeks. “And you know my plans for him! He is the perfect dupe, and if the need were to arise, I could lay the blame of any action I must take at his feet! I just pray your foolish prank hasn’t ruined my designs, and that you haven’t ruined yourself as well!”

  Liselle’s scowl faded slightly. Her sister’s complexion was sallow and her forehead beaded with sweat. “You look unwell, Nicoletta,” she observed with concern. “What ails you?”

  “Àu! Do not think to distract me!” Nicoletta replied sharply and then repeated for emphasis, “Lord Gray is of the most scandalous ilk! He is naught but a gambling drunkard—un farabùto!”

  But Liselle was not so sure. Recalling the wide variety of snares and weapons the man had hidden in his chamber and bed, she knew there was more to him than just wagering, wine, and women.

  She hesitated, smoothing invisible wrinkles in her skirts as she weighed the choices before her.

  Nicoletta was clearly feeling indisposed. And Liselle knew right well that her older sister sought only to protect her. The bond of sisterly love was fiercely strong between them. It would be kinder to apologize, make peace, and let her rest rather than engage in a conversation that would likely end with Orazio negotiating yet another truce between them.

  “Your hot-blooded nature will be your downfall!” Nicoletta was still speaking in furiously short, clipped tones. “And your lack of judgment is astounding! You are behaving quite rashly, and I’m having Orazio send you straight home!”

  The single word of home wrested the choice of restraint from Liselle’s hands. All at once her anger ignited. Home? How dare they even consider sending her home! She was more than ready to practice the family craft. In fact, she was long past due for her first real assignment.

  “You are the rash one, Nicoletta!” The words burst vehemently forth from Liselle’s lips. “And your plan is flawed if you seek to use Lord Gray as any sort of dupe! He is not what you think. He would not stand by to take the blame for your—“

  “Esumìmi! God help me!” Nicoletta’s beautiful eyes blazed as she lifted an imploring hand to the heavens. “How could you fall for him so swiftly? You are blinded by foolish fancy! I had thought you wiser than this! Did all of those years of learning teach you nothing—”

  “You are the blind one!” Liselle interrupted heatedly. “Your distaste colors your reasoning! You see only the man he wishes you to see!”

  “Can you even hear yourself speak?!” Nicoletta bristled in response. “Can you see what harm you have done? He was perfèto! Perfèto, I tell you! No
one at court doubts his flawed, impetuous nature. It would have been easy to implicate him for anything I had to do.”

  Liselle threw her hands up in exasperation once again and retorted, “Not so! He would have found a way to turn the blame back on to you, and you would have paid the heavy price. That is why I sought to discover his secret! I’ve been watching him—”

  Placing both hands on her hips, Nicoletta cut her short with a snort of disdain and pinned her with a withering glance. “At least in that you speak the truth! Now that I think on it, you have done little more than watch him on every occasion. And his secret is nothing more than constant practice, Liselle, practice at bedding every maid he sees!”

  “Then, is this jealousy?” Liselle’s eyes narrowed speculatively. “You seem to know so much about his character! Are you a jilted lover or—”

  Nicoletta rewarded her with a sharp slap across the face. “That you would say that proves you are not thinking—”

  “Basta! Enough, Nicoletta!” Orazio’s deep baritone startled them both.

  Liselle stepped back, cupping her palm over her stinging cheek, and then both sisters turned on him at once.

  “She lacks prudence, Orazio! And—” Nicoletta began.

  “And she lacks skill!” Liselle inserted quickly. “My talents overshadow hers by far! You know this to be true!”

  “And you both lack discretion! I could hear you from the streets!” Orazio laughed, stepping in between them and shaking his head as he peered down at his sisters in amusement. But then observing Nicoletta, his astute brown eyes grew serious all at once. “You look ill, Nicoletta. What is it?”

  “Santa pazienza!” Nicoletta tiredly waved her hand at her younger sister. “This one will soon send me to my grave.”

  Liselle rolled her eyes at the all too familiar words. “You are not mama, Nicoletta.”

  “But now I understand her so well,” Nicoletta sighed heavily. “I see why she says that of you so often.” And then her knees suddenly buckled, and she would have fallen had not Orazio caught her by the shoulders.

  “Rest,” he ordered, his distinguished features suffused with concern. “I will … handle Liselle.”

  Liselle tensed. It never ended well for her whenever they decided she needed to be handled.

  “Yes. I could rest,” Nicoletta whispered, closing her eyes for several long moments before lifting her dark lashes to glower at Orazio. “You will keep your word?”

  At Orazio’s barely imperceptible nod of reply, Liselle’s heart sank further. It was true. They were sending her back to Venice.

  “Very well then,” her older sister heaved a deep sigh. And then without another word or a backward glance, she left the room.

  Liselle waited until Nicoletta was out of earshot before turning to Orazio and demanding in outright alarm, “What ails her? Is she ill?”

  Nothing—even the threat of being sent home—was more important than her sister’s health and well-being.

  Her brother arched a dark brow. “Have you ever known anything to daunt her, sorèla cara?”

  His response was comforting. As maddeningly overbearing as Nicoletta was, life would be torture without her. But all warm, sisterly thoughts evaporated instantly upon hearing Orazio’s next words.

  “Pascal will escort you home on the morrow, Liselle.”

  “No!” Her anger returned full force. “I refuse! My abilities are far superior to Nicoletta’s, Orazio! You know this!”

  He tilted his head, looking down at her from the lengths of his long, angular nose before observing coolly, “Mayhap your skills are, but your judgment certainly is not.”

  “Simply because of Lord Gray?” Liselle exploded, her hazel eyes flashing with fire. “He did not touch me, Orazio! I swear it! Nor did he see my viper mark! He only discovered I was there the moment you burst in. Cà de dìa, Nicoletta was making such a racket! I heard her coming up the stairs and slid into his bed simply to aggravate her!”

  “Indeed, that is my point, cara,” Orazio replied softly, but his dark eyes held a glint of humor. And then the humor faded to an almost paternal kindness. “She speaks the truth, Liselle. Your passionate nature blinds you. You are too impulsive and impatient. You are not yet ready.”

  Struggling to control her temper, Liselle almost choked on her own words. “Ridicolóxo! Are you both truly that blind? The man is not what he seems! For Nicoletta’s own safety, I went to his chamber to see what he’s hiding!”

  Leaning down, Orazio placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. “Liselle, Lord Julian Gray is Nicoletta’s concern, not yours. You were to find Dolfino Dolfin, not to spy on a foolish Scottish lord.”

  She wanted to scream out of pure frustration. She had told them repeatedly that the old salt spy, Dolfin, had fled to England after his audience with Albany. And she knew very well that Orazio secretly believed her. Why else would they be in Sarlat, courting Albany’s favor in order to find out where in England the old man had gone?

  “Who is truly concerned with the fate of Dolfin any longer?” Liselle muttered rebelliously. “He is ancient in years and will soon be dead. And even if he were young, he is now exiled. He can no longer return to La Serenìsima to cause harm.”

  “He betrayed his own country,” Orazio indulged her with the reply. “You know well that he sold secrets of the salt trade.”

  “Salt!” Liselle rolled her eyes in contempt. “No man ever died by his hand. It is over salt, Orazio! Salt!”

  “Men will die soon because of it, cara,” her brother patiently explained. “Already, we have received the Pope’s blessing to take arms against Ferrara. Men will die to protect our salt trade.”

  “But—” she began.

  Orazio’s expression hardened. “Basta, I will speak of this with you no more. You were to find the man, not question the reason. You were to find him before he left France, and you failed,” he pointed out mercilessly. “The man’s trail clearly led to Albany, and you lost it.”

  Chastened, she sealed her lips. His words were true enough. She had lost interest in finding Dolfin the day Lord Julian Gray arrived in Sarlat. The Scottish noble had been a much more fascinating concern.

  Still, ferreting out information was a child’s task, and a note of irritation crept into her voice as she asked, “Why do you only give me useless tasks? I grow weary of decorating the arms of men and dining on partridges and sweetmeats simply to learn where an old man might be hiding."

  “And if you had found him, Liselle, can you surmise the next task I would have assigned you?” Orazio’s dark eyes gleamed with challenge. “Dolfin may be old, but his folly of selling our homeland’s trade secrets to our enemy of Ferrara has plunged us into war. There is vengeance to be had, dear sister. The man must pay for his foul deed!”

  A sudden chill hung on the edge of his words.

  Liselle blinked, taken aback.

  “See, cara.” Orazio sighed, patting her sympathetically on the shoulder. “I gave you an important task. I merely asked you to find him first. Your next step would have been … different.”

  Liselle blanched. The thought of assassinating an old man was abhorrent, especially over salt, but she quickly buried the thought. She had been trained from an early age on the many ways to make a man die, but she had yet to actually use her schooling. Most likely, it would be easier to do when the time came.

  Glancing up, she caught her brother closely watching her face. Though she knew herself to be exceptionally skilled, she also knew he wasn't so confident in that.

  “Go home and wait a bit, Liselle,” he said with a compassionate smile. “Your time will come.”

  “When I am old and gray!” she countered, but without venom. The heat of her anger had inexplicably dissipated. There was an expression in his eyes that bothered her, something left unsaid, and she suddenly wanted the truth. “I left childhood several years ago, Orazio. And Nicoletta was younger than I am now when you sent her to the Scottish courts. Why do you hold me back?”


  He heard the sincerity in her voice, and his answer was long in coming. Finally, he replied, “You have the skills, Liselle, mi digo! You are even extraordinarily talented, but you haven’t the heart to truly be one of the Vindictam.”

  She recoiled in alarm. “What do you mean, Orazio!”

  “Be at peace, Liselle,” he said, reaching over to place a comforting hand upon her shoulder. “As the Magno Duce I have the authority to withhold you from missions until you are truly ready.” Nodding at her ankle, he added, “And you have yet to receive the final marking. There is still time for you to withdraw and take on a different role for the Vindictam. You are a dreamer, and … I believe you were made for … something else.”

  “Something else?” Liselle repeated, disheartened. “Pray, what do you mean?” How could she be made for something else when she’d spent her entire life learning the ways of an assassin?

  He took so long to reply that she thought he wasn’t going to answer, but then he murmured, “This past fortnight, I have seen the manner in which you have watched Lord Gray, and I would hazard to guess you are already in love with the man. You were meant to love, Liselle, not … destroy.”

  Liselle’s mouth gaped open. How could he misunderstand her so completely? “Absurd! He is nothing to me!” came the fervent denial, and never more genuinely felt.

  It was clear that he didn’t believe her. He just stood there, and then his eyes darkened with the soft inquiry, “Could you assassinate him then? To protect us all, could you take his life?”

  “Yes!” she swore without hesitation. How could her brother doubt her loyalty? Her voice caught a little as she added, “I am a di Franco first and foremost, Orazio! Nothing comes between blood bonds! Nothing!”

  Orazio watched her for a time, his shrewd eyes boring through hers, and then he simply said, “Then prove your loyalty and go home.”

  There was nothing she could say to that. Her shoulders sagged. Her dreams had just come to an abrupt end. Bowing her head, she turned on her heel and made her way down the stairs, caught between anger and sadness.