As for traveling with him, ’twas fortunate indeed that she would not be doing it much longer. Now that they had lost the queen’s men, it was time to set her plan in motion to find a safe haven—and escape her rescuer.
CHAPTER 6
With any luck, Sybil could reach one of her sisters before nightfall and avoid spending another night with her Highlander. Judging from those kisses, he hoped to claim his husbandly rights sooner rather than later. His injured leg, which seemed to be healing quickly, would not deter him a second night—and if he kissed her like that again, she was not sure she could trust herself to tell him nay.
Her first step to escape was to find out where she was.
“I confess that I don’t know precisely where the MacKenzie lands are,” she said. “Can ye tell me about our journey?”
“The MacKenzie lands are vast,” Rory said. “Our journey will be long and harsh.”
Well, that was not the least bit helpful. “What route will we take?”
“The least traveled.”
She rolled her eyes. Before she could make another attempt, he drew the horse to a halt behind a dense holly tree. Her heart thudded in her chest as the fears she had forgotten for the last few hours came flooding back.
“Why are we stopping?” she asked, darting glances around them. Had the queen’s men found them again?
“’Tis well past noon,” he said. “Ye had no breakfast. I’ll not see ye starve by missing your dinner too.”
He wished to feed her? That was all? Sybil drew in a deep breath in an effort to calm herself. Rory lifted her off the horse and helped her to sit on a flat rock.
“You’re pale,” he said, looking at her as if she was a pathetic creature. “Ye need sustenance.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “And I’m in no danger of starving.”
“I’ll have it ready before ye know it.”
He tucked a slingshot into his belt and disappeared into the brush. Despite herself, she felt uneasy with Rory out of sight, but in a surprisingly short time he returned with a pair of plump quail and started a fire. He really was a most resourceful man. While he cleaned and fixed the birds on sticks over the fire, she strolled over to where Curan was grazing.
She rubbed his long nose and fed him the last apple from the bag. You could tell a lot about a person by the animals he kept. This horse was well cared for and trusted his master.
“Curan likes ye,” Rory said.
“How can ye tell?”
“He’d let ye know if he didn’t,” he said. “Curan nearly killed the last person who tried to give him an apple.”
“Why would he do that?”
“The man was attempting to steal him,” he said.
“He’s as clever as he is handsome.” Sybil leaned close to Curan’s ear and whispered, “Just like your master.”
As promised, Rory had the meal ready before long, and the roasted quail was delicious.
“You’re a fine cook, Highlander.” Sybil was surprised he knew how. Certainly no one in her family did.
“I have a name,” he said, sounding a bit surly.
“Don’t ye usually have others to see to your meals, Rory?”
“A Highlander must know how to survive alone,” he said. “Anyone should.”
“I may never have plucked a quail, but I’ve organized a grand feast of a dozen courses for three hundred guests, including royalty.”
“Will ye be wanting to invite the queen to sup with us?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
She had been enjoying the conversation, but his remark was like a cold rain dampening her spirits.
“I hope to never see that particular royal again,” she said, and stared at the horizon.
“That was a poor jest,” Rory said, touching her arm. “I shouldn’t have mentioned the queen.”
***
Rory could kick himself for upsetting her. He had not been thinking straight since he kissed her. He’d only meant that kiss to divert her from asking all those questions—and to satisfy his curiosity—but he was lost the moment their lips touched. Passion roared through him with blinding force. He had no notion how long their mouths were locked in frenzied kisses before he realized that he was actually considering lifting her skirts and taking her on the horse’s back. Jesu! She would think he was an animal.
After that, he kissed her gently, and somehow that was just as devastating. He had an overwhelming desire to protect and care for her. And their first time should be just as she wanted—in a large bed, in a fire-lit chamber, after a wedding feast with music and dancing and toasts to their happiness.
“I know this change in your family’s position must be hard on ye,” he said.
“We Douglases have been in disgrace before.” Sybil gave a dry, humorless laugh. “The men of my family have always been ambitious.”
Rory knew some of the stories of the Douglases. When the Scottish nobles wished to depose James III, it was Sybil’s grandfather who legitimized their rebellion by persuading the king’s teenage son to join them. As penance for his part in the events that led to his father’s murder, James IV wore a heavy chain belt under his clothes until his own untimely death at Flodden.
“The last time we Douglases fell out of favor was not as bad as this.” A bittersweet smile touched her lips as she added, “Though it seemed bad enough at the time.”
Her tone was light, but he could tell she used it to hide deep wounds. He would have told her she did not need to talk about this, but he sensed that she needed to.
“My brother thought he was so clever wedding the queen in secret, knowing full well the King’s Council would never approve the marriage,” she said. “When the council responded by removing the regency and the royal children from the queen, she fled to England, but Archie stayed and weathered the storm. After a year, he reconciled with Albany, the new regent, and was appointed to the King’s Council with the other powerful magnates.”
News traveled slowly to the Highlands, and Rory had not heard of her brother’s first fall from power until he had regained his position.
“Regent Albany thought all was well and returned to his home in France,” she said. “Of course, it all started again.”
With the king still a young child, that was bound to happen. Unprincipled men would try to use the boy king’s power for themselves, just as Hector took control of the clan before Brian came of age.
“Archie challenged James Hamilton, the Earl of Arran, for control of the king and council. It was a low blow when the queen sided with the Hamiltons, but I suppose she was equally infuriated when her brother Henry VIII supported Archie.”
“Why did she turn against your brother?” Rory asked. “He is her husband.”
“When the queen returned to Scotland hoping to regain the regency, she learned that Archie had been living with his lover in one of her castles—and even worse, he was collecting her rents for his own use.” Sybil sighed and shook her head. “Now she hates my brother with as much passion as she once loved him. That should have made him cautious. God knows, I tried to tell him.”
“What did he do to be charged with treason?” Rory had not stayed in Stirling long enough to learn the details. As soon as he heard that the Douglas men had fled Scotland and the queen’s men were on their way to bring Sybil to the palace for questioning, he rode hard to reach her first.
“His dispute with the Hamiltons escalated until it broke out into a bloody battle on the streets of Edinburgh,” she said. “The other noble families, the city merchants, and the council tolerated the usual secret deals and maneuverings of court fights, but this was too much. There were hundreds of men fighting in the streets of Edinburgh, for God’s sake.”
“What happened then?”
“The council sent an urgent message to Albany, begging him to return before the country descended into chaos.”
“Where was the queen in all of this?” Rory asked.
“She was astute, for once, and added her voice t
o the call for Albany’s return,” Sybil said. “She was at the dock to welcome him when his ship arrived. The next we knew, she and Albany were allies, and all the blame for the street battle was laid on the Douglases.”
Though Rory was a chieftain’s son, he was never more aware that his bride had grown up in higher circles.
“And that’s how I came to be in this fix,” she said, giving him a genuine smile this time.
“By this fix, ye mean riding off with me?” he said.
“Aye,” she said with an even wider smile.
He should have left it at that, but there was something—or rather someone—that still nagged at him.
“With such bad blood between your family and the Hamiltons,” he said, “I’m surprised James Finnart chased after ye.”
“James has been annoying me since I was twelve,” she said, waving her hand as if shooing away a gnat. “At first, I believed his attention was just part of a Hamilton scheme.”
“What scheme would that be?”
“To remove me from our last king’s consideration,” she said. “My grandfather hoped one of us Douglas lasses would attract the king’s roving eye. The Hamiltons, like all the noble families, had similar hopes.”
“Ye were twelve when your family did this?” How had she survived such a family?
“I was thirteen when the king died, and I thought I’d be free of Finnart then as well.” She shook her head. “But he’s been dogging me ever since.”
“As my wife, ye can be certain he’ll never trouble ye again.”
“Finnart has a startling number of illegitimate children,” she said. “I doubt a lass’s marital status is overly important to him.”
“It may not be important to him,” Rory said, “but a man who disrespects my wife will not live long.”
Sybil gave him a look he could not read, then she turned her gaze to the horizon and fell silent for a long while.
“We thought Archie’s fall from grace would be like the last time,” she said in a far-off voice.
“Reconciliation with Albany will not be so easy this time,” he said.
“Nay, it will not,” she said.
***
Rory had done Sybil a favor by reminding her of how dire her situation was. She had no more time to waste if she was to reach the safety of one of her sisters’ homes before nightfall.
“We should go.” Rory took her hand and helped her to her feet.
“Before we leave the Lowlands,” she said, “I must see one of my sisters.”
He had started to walk toward the horse, but he halted abruptly and turned to face her.
“I could be gone for months, even years,” she said, speaking quickly. “I may never see any of my family again.”
“The advantage we have is that the queen’s men don’t know who I am and therefore don’t know where I’m taking ye,” he said. “’Tis unwise to give up that advantage and go where your enemies expect to find ye.”
“My sisters’ husbands are powerful men. The queen will be hesitant to challenge them,” Sybil said. “She only came after me because I’m unprotected.”
“You’re protected now,” he said. “And that is why I won’t take ye.”
“Please,” she said, tugging on his hand. “My sisters will worry if they don’t know what’s happened to me.”
“Ye left a note for your cousin,” Rory said. “She can tell them.”
Damn, she had forgotten about that.
“My cousin is only eleven,” she said. “Her mother is the one who gave me up, and she certainly won’t permit Lizzie to visit any of her Douglas kin.”
He folded his arms. “I’ll not jeopardize your safety.”
“We needn’t stay long,” she lied. “A brief farewell is all I ask.”
She had learned to lie with ease—a necessary survival skill at court—and yet her heart beat rapidly as Rory fixed her with a hard gaze.
“Where are these sisters of yours?” His tone was unbending, but the question was a sure sign he was weakening.
“My sister Alison lives at Blackadder Castle,” she said. “Her husband is the infamous David Hume.”
Sybil would feel safest there. David was a powerful Border laird and the only man connected to her family that she still trusted without reservation. For a moment, her thoughts strayed to her brothers, and she had to swallow against the bitter disappointment that closed her throat.
On her list visit, Alison and David urged her to stay with them until the trouble passed. She should have listened to them. But she had been so confident that, regardless of what happened, her many friends at court would protect her. Ha! What a fool she had been.
“The Hume lands lie behind us in the wrong direction,” Rory said, shaking his head. “Worse, they’re far too close to Edinburgh.”
Disappointment swelled in her chest, but she said, “My sister Janet lives north. She is the lady of Glamis Castle. You can take me there.”
Though Sybil loved Janet dearly, Janet was the youngest Douglas sibling by several years and Sybil was not as close to her. Also, she did not know Janet’s husband well. Glamis was a great lord with sufficient power to protect Sybil, but would he?
“To reach Glamis Castle, we’d have to pass between Edinburgh and Stirling—right under the noses of both the queen and the regent,” Rory said. “We’re not going that way. For your safety, we’re taking the less-traveled route to the west, then north.”
Was he trying to thwart her? She had only one sister left.
“We travel west? Well, it just so happens that my sister Margaret lives to the west,” she said, propping her hand on her hip. “Will ye take me to see her, or are ye determined to refuse me?”
***
Rory did not like it one bit. Yet he could not deny that Sybil might not see her sisters for years, and he understood why she was willing to take the risk.
“Who is this sister’s husband?” he asked, regretting it already.
“A distant kin,” she said. “William Douglas, the 7th Baron of Drumlanrig.”
“Your uncle’s wife attempted to hand ye over to the queen,” Rory said. “How can we trust that Drumlanrig will not to do the same?”
“He’s a Douglas, and my brother is still his chieftain,” she said. “He has no choice but to protect me.”
Her brothers and uncle had an even greater duty, and they had thrown her to the wolves. Still, this Baron of Drumlanrig lived a healthy distance from the antics of the Scottish court, and as a Douglas, he was unlikely to risk drawing attention to himself by sending messages to the queen.
“I’ll take ye, but—”
Before he could finish, Sybil jumped up and threw her arms around his neck.
“Thank you!” she said, and her face was aglow as she smiled into his eyes.
By the saints, how did anyone refuse her? He could to protect her but feared that otherwise she would always get her way. If it meant seeing her this happy and in his arms, perhaps that was all right.
Her mouth was only inches from his, tempting him to kiss her again. Her safety must come first, however, so he set her feet firmly on the ground and laid out his conditions.
“I will take ye to Drumlanrig Castle, but we shall not enter the gates until I am certain the queen’s men have not arrived before us,” he told her. “If I say ’tis not safe, ye shall not argue.”
Sybil nodded her agreement, but he caught the shadow that briefly clouded her eyes. What was it his bonny bride was not telling him?
CHAPTER 7
“We must be getting close to Drumlanrig Castle.” Sybil’s pulse leaped. “I recognize this wood. I hunted here with my brothers when we visited.”
Now that she was about to reach her safe haven, an unaccountable sadness weighed on her heart at the prospect of parting with her Highlander, of never seeing him again. She had barely known him two days. And yet, after what they had been through, it did not feel right that he would be gone from her life forever.
; Too soon, her sister’s home appeared in the distance. She was not ready to bid him goodbye.
“That’s Drumlanrig, there, across the river,” she said, pointing at the tower castle. “Let’s walk the rest of the way.”
Rory lifted her to the ground. Before he released her, he studied her with his piercing green eyes until she wondered if he had guessed her true purpose in coming to her sister’s.
“You’re certain ye can trust your sister’s husband?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said, and pasted what she feared was a too-bright smile on her face.
Despite her reassurance, Rory kept his eyes on the castle and skirted the wood where they could not easily be seen as they approached it.
“Is your sister Margaret like you?” he asked.
“Nay. Margaret is sweet and obliging,” she said with a laugh. “If William Douglas of Drumlanrig were my husband, I’d have murdered him long ago.”
Rory gave her a sharp sideways glance. “I thought ye trusted him.”
“I dislike him, but he doesn’t have the backbone to cause trouble,” she said.
In dangerous times, trust no one but a Douglas. The last time she saw her brother Archie he’d had the gall to tell her that. She hoped to God she could trust this particular Douglas.
“Besides being sweet and kind, Margaret doesn’t have the Douglas coloring like I do,” Sybil said to turn the conversation away from her brother-in-law. “She’s a tall, fair-haired beauty, like our mother was.”
“I prefer a dark-haired lass with spunk.” Rory gave her a wink and took her hand.
“A man admires a woman’s spunk until he marries her,” she said. “Then he complains that she is too lively, that she draws attention to herself, and that it’s her fault every time a man looks at her.”
“And how would ye know this?” he asked.
“I’ve seen it often enough,” she said, perhaps a bit too quickly. “Both Margaret’s husband and Allison’s first one did their best to stomp their spirit out of them.”
“I like the spark in you.” Rory smiled and squeezed her hand. “I wouldn’t want ye to ever lose it.”
CLAIMED BY A HIGHLANDER (THE DOUGLAS LEGACY Book 2) Page 5
