Rogue Highlander: The Lady Sparrow

by Sondra Grey

  For a moment silence stretched and Annis wasn’t certain he was going to answer her. Finally, he muttered, “Adam.”

  She waited for him to inquire after her name, but he didn’t.

  Annis sighed and clutched the pommel. She had best stop thinking about his hard thighs and begin thinking about how best to present her case to the King.

  CHAPTER 2

  T he ride to Edinburgh was torture and night was falling by the time they crested the hills and reached the city limits. So many hours of silence had begun to grate on Annis. Honestly, someone had to try and seem that rude!

  “Please let me off here,” she said. She wasn’t sure how she was going to make it to the castle on a sprained ankle, but she’d rather limp to Edinburgh than spend one more minute with the pile of granite seated behind her.

  She could all but feel Adam’s frown on the back of her head. “Of course not,” he snapped. “I’ll take you to the edge at least…”

  But Annis was having none of it and had already begun to lift her leg over the side. At the unexpected movement, the horse danced and halted.

  “Are you trying to break your neck!” Adam hissed, but he reigned the horse in and supported Annis’ elbow until her feet touched the ground. Annis took a step back and hid the wince as the weight jarred her injured ankle.

  “Fine,” Adam swore. “Good luck to you.” It sounded begrudging.

  “Thank you for your aid,” said Annis formally. “I will not forget the kindness.”

  Adam stared at her a moment, eyes squinting as if trying to better see her features in the dying light. He shook his head, once. “Yah!” he said to his horse, and the mount galloped down the cobbles and into the city.

  Annis sighed and began to limp her way slowly towards the castle.

  Twice, Adam almost turned his horse around and rode back towards where he’d dropped off Sparrow. He’d given the young woman the nickname almost absently, for she’d reminded him of the little brown bird he’d come across last month. One of the manor cats had gotten to it, and the poor songbird had been sitting near the hearth, trying to protect its broken wing.

  Adam had put the bird out of its misery, but he’d felt strangely guilty doing so. He had that same sense of guilt now, but his better judgment was telling him it was just as well. An hour into their ride and he’d begun fantasizing about all the things he might do to the deliciously plump rear wedged between his thighs.

  Safer for them both if their acquaintance ended there.

  It was a twenty-minute ride to the castle, and Adam did as he’d been bid. He gave his horse to the stable hands and strode immediately into the East Wing where the king kept his residences. Court was not in session, and so it was odd for the King to be residing in Edinburgh (Adam knew for a fact that the queen was still in Stirling).

  Striding down the halls, Adam stopped before he reached he king’s chamber and allowed the chamberlain to announce him. When he entered James’ study it was to see the king unusually indisposed, in only his shirtsleeves and trousers. Sitting to his left was the Duke of Argyll, looking as though he had not slept in days. The man’s usually well-oiled beard was course and unkempt. His hair was unbound and looked as if he’d been running his hands through it.

  Adam dropped to a knee. “You summoned me to you immediately, majesty?”

  James blinked at Adam as if trying to remember why he’d summoned the Maclean to Edinburgh. Adam watched, beneath his lids and James cast a glance to Argyll. Argyll frowned and then said, softly, “Inveralt.”

  Adam blinked. Inveralt was an estate that sat between Maclean and Cameron property and had been held by King’s men for the last fifty years at least. The King had granted the land to Godfrey Black, one of his knights. Last Adam knew of the land, Black had bequeathed it to a MacDonnell. Before the King had taken strategic property, it had belonged to the Camerons, but before that, it had belonged to the Macleans. Adam’s father still coveted the land. Part of his sending Adam to Edinburgh four years ago was to court James’ favor enough to regain the property for Clan Maclean.

  “Ah yes,” said James. “Inveralt. Forgive me, Sir Maclean. We’ve had more pressing business. Arise and be seated.” James gestured to the chair before his desk.

  Adam sat down. “Forgive my curiosity, majesty, but there seems to be something amiss. What matter is it that so troubles the crown?”

  James grunted. “Treaties with France,” he said, sounding as tired as Argyll looked. “We seem to be bound, by an old agreement of my father’s, to send aid to the French if they need us. Unfortunately, it looks as if France will be warring with England shortly. I expect to hear from their emissary any day. And how do you renege on a decades old treaty, especially when we may need them in the future?”

  Adam frowned. “Why renege at all? Why not aid them now.”

  James snorted. “They’ll not win against Henry’s navy, not even with our help. And why risk the ire of the king?”

  “And yet,” murmured Argyll, “war with France might weaken England enough for us to loosen their hold here…”

  “And what reserves would we have to do that if we send our navies to France?” James shrugged the matter away. “Never mind, Maclean. Tis not the matter I wish to discuss with you.”

  “Indeed, Majesty. What need have you of me? I am ready to serve.” Inveralt. What of Inveralt?

  James snorted. “Are you indeed? You look half drowned. Rode you through a storm?”

  “I did, in fact.”

  “Hmph. I should be generous and allow you dry off and clean yourself up. But I’m busy, and you’re here now, and yes, I saw you light up at Argyll’s words. I’ve called you here to discuss Inveralt.”

  “A coveted piece of land,” Adam murmured, trying not to seem too excited. James was wily. If he thought Adam too eager for the land, he might choose to hold it ransom for some impossible task he required of Adam. Then again, if James was busy with other matters, he might be more direct in his actions.

  “Yes. That ‘coveted’ piece of land has caused me many a headache over the years.” said James, clapping his hands on the woods. “Right now, Sir Maclean, it’s a headache I do not need. What I need is for the Camerons to come to heel!” He slammed his hands onto the wood of his desk.

  Good luck with that, Adam thought, but said nothing.

  “What do I have instead? Damned Lochiel Cameron is inching his men further south. I do not need Lochiel to get his fat, grubby hands on Inveralt. I can’t spare the men to guard the land, not when we might need to send them to the continent. Inveralt is yours, Maclean, if you want it and can muster men enough to hold it.”

  Adam barely dared to breath. His. Inveralt was his? As second son to the Maclean Chief, he was promised no territory at all. It was why his father had sent him to court – to seek his fortune in the King’s favor. And apparently, he’d done just that. Four years in James’ service was finally being rewarded.

  “Forgive me, majesty,” said Adam, “but it was my understanding that the MacDonnell’s held Inveralt. Has that changed?”

  James snorted. “The MacDonnells have no claim on the land. They married a third son to a Black, the daughter of one of my father’s knights. As the MacDonnell had no heir, the land is technically Black land – but it was the crown that granted the land to the Blacks. Annis Black is my ward, and her land is mine to do with as I see fit. The widow has sent word, requesting men to protect the lands from the Camerons. I won’t spare the men, but I’ll kill two birds with one stone. The Macleans want the land and have men enough to keep the Camerons in check. So, I’ll marry the girl to you, and Inveralt shall be yours. Mind you, Maclean, you’ll need to invest a good deal of time in her. That idiot David MacDonnell let the land go to seed.”

  Adam gave a mental shake of his head. When something seemed too good to be true, it usually was. Inveralt was his, but he’d have to marry for it.

  The Earl of Argyll must have seem Adam’s irritation for he spoke up. “The l
and may have gone to seed, but Annis Black is young, if no prize beauty. You’ll have sons on her, and she has a sizeable dowry that the King has maintained. You may use the money to reseed the land.”

  Adam nodded. So, his wife-to-be was unattractive, but young still, and wealthy. And she came with Inveralt. He could do worse, he supposed. “And what can you tell me of the widow?”

  “Honestly, Maclean, you sound as if you do not want the property,” the King snapped, impatiently.

  Adam bent his head. “Forgive my questions, majesty. I am merely curious on what it is I’m to inherit.”

  It was Argyll, again, who answered. “You’ll inherit a feud with the Camerons, an estate that wants maintenance, and a young, biddable wife with dowry-enough to flatter a second son.”

  “You’ll inherit a valued bit of property, a sizeable keep, and a smart woman you can depend on not to stray,” said James, spinning the situation to make it sound more appealing.

  Adam didn’t need to think too hard on the matter then. He had no wife, he was property-less, and after Ewan Cameron had scarred his face, he was eager to war with the Camerons again.

  “I am beholden to you, Majesty,” said Adam. “I accept your gift and goodwill and will see that Inveralt is turned into the jewel she once was.”

  “Well and good,” muttered James. “There’s one less thing to worry about. And if you can get the Camerons to come to heal, there’ll be a reward for you as well. Though I’m not holding my breath,” said James.

  “When is the wedding to be?” asked Adam, rising to take his leave.

  “When the lady in question arrives,” said Argyll.

  “She’s certainly taking her time,” muttered James. “And when she arrives, we shall summon you. In the meantime, bathe, eat, and warm yourself.”

  Adam bowed. “I am grateful for your trust in me, Majesty.” He took his leave.

  CHAPTER 3

  B y the time Annis reached the castle, she was nearly crying and she knew she looked a terrible wreck. She was mud-smeared, damp, had no bags, no horse…

  As she stumbled up to the gates, one of the guards called out, “Get ye gone beggar! We’ve nothing for you.”

  Annis tried to lift herself to her full, and unimpressive height.

  “My name is Annis Black, I’m a ward of King James and he has summoned me to meet with him…”

  “You’re loony,” jeered another guard. “If it’s work you’re after, the whorehouses on Wickham street are hiring!”

  That got a few laughs. Annis bit back tears. “I have met with an unfortunate accident on the road. But I am the Lady of Inveralt. You will take my message to the king instantly,” she said. “If you do not, I will tell him of your treatment of me and he will have you flogged!”

  She knew it was the tone of her voice that made them stop laughing. One of them jostled the other. And Annis saw another leave his post. They said nothing else to her. She could only hope they had gone to see the King. She waited before the castle as the sky darkened. One of the guards went about lighting torches.

  Nearly an hour Annis was left standing outside the gates. She was happy she stood in shadow and that the guards could not see the tears of humiliation and pain that rolled down her cheeks.

  Finally, she saw a figure emerge from the bailey, striding purposefully through the gates. She wondered if it was the King, but the way the guards acted, she thought not. As he stepped into the light by the gates, she could see that he was a few years younger than her husband had been, with curling dark hair and a beard the color of flame. He looked as if he’d dressed hurriedly for his surcoat was unlaced and he stared at her as if trying to see through the grime.

  “Lady,” said the man, brusquely. “The guards have said you are here to petition the king?”

  Annis tried to sound calm. “I am Annis Black, Lady of Inveralt…”

  “Good god!” said the man, striding forward and taking Annis’ elbow gently. “What on earth happened to you? We expected you days ago!”

  Annis licked her lips. “An accident sir…”

  “Forgive me,” said the man, gently, “I am Archibald Campbell, Earl of Argyll.”

  “My lord,” said Annis, relief overwhelming her. The Earl of Argyll was James’ right hand man. “I encountered a storm. My horse unseated me and ran…”

  “But where are your men, Lady?” asked Argyll, staring about her as if they were going to appear by magic.

  “There was no one to ride with me, Lord Argyll,” Annis explained. “My men at arms ransacked my home and left. The few that stayed I left to protect the keep. I rode on my own…”

  Argyll was shaking his head. “How terrible, Milady. Had the King known, I’m sure he would have sent you an escort. Please come in. I’ll have you seen to at once.”

  He tugged her forward and Annis squeaked as the weight hit her bad foot.

  “Are you injured lady?” Argyll asked. “I will have the doctors sent to your rooms as well. Allow me to help you.” He slid an arm beneath her and let her place her weight on him. She hoped that the kind Earl might see her to her room, but the moment they had entered the castle, Argyll summoned a footmen to “take the Lady Black to her rooms and make sure she is taken care of.”

  Annis allowed herself to be towed through the castle and deposited in a set of rooms and she sat there, helplessly, until a harried looking woman who could only be the castle stewardess, arrived and took stock of her. The next thing she knew there were maids bringing a few fresh sets of clothes and a healer showed up to place leeches and a cold compress on her ankle to “take the swelling down.”

  Once her ankle had been rewrapped, the stewardess had a wash-basin sent in, and a lady’s maid stayed to help her into and out of the copper tub. A tray of food arrived not long after and, after eating her fill, Annis crawled into the bed and fell fast and deeply asleep.

  When she awoke in the morning, it was to a lady’s maid, bringing in a tray of breakfast. The young woman informed Annis she was to eat and then meet with the King. Annis thanked God for James’ attention. She knew the king was busy and had worried that she might languish in court a week before he saw her.

  A few discrete questions to the lady’s maid allowed Annis to discover that court was not, in fact, in session. According to the woman, the King had only arrived at Edinburgh from Stirling that past week, and had only a few courtiers accompanying him.

  “Only his advisers are at court,” murmured the maid as she combed and twisted Annis’ hair.

  “Why then is he not at Stirling?” asked Annis. It would have saved her a day’s riding if the King had been in Stirling.

  “His queen is at Stirling,” said the lady’s maid. “Tis said he’s to meet with French ambassadors and does not wish her highness to know of it.”

  Annis thought it pretty unlikely that the servants in Edinburgh knew of the meeting with the French ambassadors and yet expected the queen to remain ignorant. But that wasn’t her business.

  “You’ve made me look lovely,” Annis thanked the lady, staring at herself in the mirror. Her mouse brown hair shone with the brushing, and the hairstyle was an elegant one. Annis knew it would take a lot more makeup to turn her into a classic beauty, but the blue gown the maids had found for her made her eyes look more golden than brown. The gown made an hourglass of her figure. She was not unattractive and was no longer feeling nervous at the thought of being presented to the King.

  The healer had left her a walking stick and she leaned on that as she made her way to her audience. Her ankle still ached, but was feeling better for the treatment yesterday. Still, she would be happy when she could get off it again.

  Rather than meet her in his chambers, the King was meeting her in a sitting room off of the main ballroom. It was an antechamber of sorts, but a more appropriate place for a king to be meeting his ward than in his private suite. The guards threw open the door as she arrived, and Annis was ushered into a sumptuous room with velvet curtains, oil paintings, and sil
k sofas.

  Seated in a throne-like chair behind a desk, was the King of Scotland. James was an attractive man whom Annis had met once before when she was a child. She remembered him fondly as young and brilliantly energetic. That same energy seemed to burn in James now, even seated, his eyes danced with fire and they looked on her with appraisal.

  “Lady Black,” he said, standing and gesturing to a chair before the fireplace. Annis looked over. When she saw what awaited her near the fireplace, her mouth went dry and the breath left her body.

  The Earl of Argyll was leaning against the fireplace, drumming his fingers impatiently on the mantle, but seated beside the hearth, staring at her as if trying to place her, was Adam.

  For a moment, she thought she was seeing things, for the elegantly clad highlander before her was a far cry from the soaking wet traveler she’d ridden with just last evening. Gone were the whiskers, and his brilliant gold hair was brushed off of his face to reveal boldly sculpted features. Were it not for the scar that ran from his left eye to just above his mouth, Annis would not have thought this the same man who met her on the road. This man wore an expensively woven kilt of red and green tartan. The kilt was secured across his shoulder by an elaborate silver pin bearing the crest of a castle. She’d seen the crest before. Maclean.

  She noted the moment Adam recognized her. He blinked. And that was all the surprise he showed. Annis straightened her spine and hobbled towards the chair. Adam was up in an instant, offering her his hand. Annis wanted to hit it away, but she didn’t dare. Not in front of the king, and so she took it, and allowed Adam (was that even his name?) to lead her to a seat before the fire. The seats were facing each other, and Annis refused to look at her roadside rescuer. Looking, instead, at King James who’d rounded the desk and was approaching them.

  “I hear you had an unfortunate time getting here, my dear,” said James. “Argyll had filled me in on the happenings at Inveralt. Had you sent word, I would have sent men to escort you.”