by Carmen Caine
Cameron arched a brow.
“What do I have to fear from a mason intent only on gathering gold trinkets?” The young prince pointed ahead in the gloom. “Do ye see the stag, Cameron?”
Turning slowly, Cameron caught sight of a stag a short distance away, watching them from beneath the shelter of a lone tree. Mar clapped his hands and it started, bounding away.
“I’m that stag, dear cousin. Have ye ever witnessed a mason slay a stag with a brick? Thomas is no match for me.” With a soft chuckle, Mar mounted his horse and pointed back towards Stirling Castle. “I’ve lost my taste for riding in this foul weather. Shall we end this night with wine and fair maids?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. With a cry, he spurred his horse back down the hill, charging across the moors to the castle rising in the distance.
Cameron heaved a sigh and slowly mounted his charger, murmuring, “And so the folly begins. I would I had none of what is to come.”
Chapter Nine - The Princess
Kate entered Maura’s cottage, expecting to see her father but finding two messengers in his stead, one dressed in the livery of the Earl of Lennox and the other wearing the crest of the Royal Stewarts emblazoned upon his tunic.
“Princess Anabella summons ye at once to her chambers,” the princess’ man announced formally.
The other man stepped forward. “The most esteemed John Ferguson has joined the household of Cameron Malcolm Stewart, the Earl of Lennox, and kindly requests your company at the castle forthwith.”
Kate stared at the second man in utter shock. “Joined … the earl’s household?” she gasped.
But the men did not repeat their messages. Anxious to return to the castle, they spun on their heels and exited the cottage, leaving her to return on her own.
Astonished, Kate sank down on the straw pallet.
What had her father done?
Outside the cottage, darkness gathered and the wind rose, driving the rain against the shutters. She did not know how long she sat there, dumbfounded, staring at the cobwebs on the ceiling and listening to the beating rain.
She didn’t permit herself to think of Cameron.
It hurt too much to know that she would never again caress his face or trace her fingers along the dash of his chin.
Aye, she was furious with the man. Or she was desperately trying to be.
Then she stomped her foot.
Ach, if she were honest, her anger had already faded but it had been replaced by a hurt too deep to bear.
It was simply too painful to see him again, and her father knew that. His gentle, understanding words had proven he truly understood.
They had made plans that very day to move to Edinburgh forthwith. And she had gone to the almshouse to see if any traveling that way might provide her father with transportation.
So why had her own father betrayed her?
Picking up the empty flask that had contained the water from St. Fillans, she idly twirled it in her fingers, but then it reminded her of Cameron and his dark, passionate eyes.
She dashed it to the hearth, hoping to be angry once again, but experienced only a deep pang of sorrow.
How could her father join the earl’s household?
He was her father, not Cameron’s!
She might fail in finding her anger for Cameron, but she could summon it for her father. Aye, she’d make her way back to Stirling Castle and have a word with the earl’s new man, the new one named John Ferguson, and she’d remind him that his loyalty lay with his devoted daughter, the one who had struggled to bring him back from the brink of death these past long months.
Irritably, she threw her worn plaid over her head and stepped out into the darkness, squeezing her eyes shut against the fierce sheets of stinging rain.
She had scarcely taken a dozen steps when hooves thundered behind her, and she found herself swept upon the back of a massive chestnut charger and encircled by an arm of steel. Before she could respond, Cameron’s deep voice rang in her ear.
“Allow me to escort ye to Stirling Castle, lass.”
At once, her heart fluttered, and a lump rose in her throat. She couldn’t have replied, even if she had desired to, the relentless wind and rain rendered conversation impossible.
The ride proved a bittersweet one.
Though his touch reminded her that he wasn’t hers to keep, wounding her heart even more, she closed her eyes and leaned against him anyway, vowing to cherish each moment as the horse struggled up Castle Hill battling the wind and rain.
Aye, she would burn every second of this into her memory forever, to keep her company in the long, lonely nights ahead.
All too quickly, the horse trotted through the gates, across the courtyard and to the stables. As the stable lads sprang to open the doors wide, a warm, welcoming light greeted her along with the comforting smell of hay and horse.
It was only after Cameron swung her down from the back of his massive beast that Kate allowed herself to glance up into his dark, passionate eyes.
It was a mistake.
At once, she wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms. Bitterly, she grimaced and whispered, “I liked ye better as an outlaw.”
“Well, now ye must deal with me as your dreaded lover!” Cameron’s dark eyes narrowed in a thunderous expression. His gaze turned suddenly hot and intense.
Aye, she was defenseless against the sensual power of the man. He didn’t even have to speak. His mere presence alone melted her resolve to flee. She couldn’t let him make her stay, there was no future for her in his life. She knew that too well.
Averting her eyes, she turned her head, but he reached out and lightly traced the line of her jaw before moving his thumb to smooth her frown away.
“I love ye, Kate,” he confessed, his voice soft and husky.
She sent him a wounded look. To speak those words now was entirely unfair. “Much evil is done in the name of love,” she said, her voice shaking with emotion.
He pulled her close, holding her head against his shoulder, and she could feel his hot breath upon her neck. “I’ve never loved afore, and I’ll never love any again as I love ye. Julian was right. It is already too late. Mayhap we should—”
She pushed him away, afraid of what she might do should he continue his sweet words. “Well, ye clearly loved enough to father three bairns,” she interrupted, seizing upon the first thought. It was a jealous one, but the subject of bairns had been uppermost in her mind the entire day, ever since her father had brought the possibility to her attention.
A startled look crossed his face, but he answered readily enough. “The wee lassies ye speak of are not mine, Kate. I’ve given them my name, but the king is their father, and ‘twas an arrangement that suited us both at the time.” He tilted her chin up with an elegant finger and then planted a reverent kiss on her forehead. “I’ve never bedded a lass afore ye, and I’ll never bed another.”
Kate blinked in surprise as a healthy blush dusted her cheeks. It took her several, long moments before she managed to tear her eyes away from his. “’Tis impossible to believe,” she said finally. “The tales of your exploits are well known and spoken of even in the alehouses.”
“Aye, well, wagging tongues aren’t necessarily the best sources for truth,” Cameron observed drolly. “’Twas ye who proved to be the thief, lass, for ye quite stole my heart.”
Tears threatened. “Dinna say such sweet words to me,” Kate whispered hoarsely. “I’ll have none of them!” She couldn’t let herself. It would only hurt more, and the pain was already unbearable.
He drew a long breath and then murmured, “The princess is expecting ye, Kate. Stay with her until I’ve sorted this matter. I’ll not have ye suffer for my sake. There are those here that would use ye cruelly to reach me. And I cannot bear that.”
The words jolted her back into the harsh reality she now lived. Stepping away, she curtsied and whispered, “Aye, my lord.”
She could tell that he regr
etted the words the moment he heard her response, but she suddenly wanted to be gone. This path could only end in heartache. She could not knowingly let her emotions guide her into folly. Ignoring his pleas to stay, she gathered her plaid close and fled the stables.
She would see Princess Anabella first. She could not yet face her father. Within three words, he would hear the pain in her voice and offer sympathy that would be her undoing.
She had no time for tears.
Frowning at herself furiously, she slapped her cheeks and ran through the cold rain to the royal apartments. The guards let her through and pointed the way. In moments, she stood dripping at the door of Princess Anabella’s chambers, cringing under the critical gaze of her ladies-in-waiting.
“Ach, ye canna see her highness in such a state!” one gasped in shock.
“How can the princess speak with a ragamuffin?” Another pursed her lips, her fine nostrils flaring.
“Then fetch her one of your gowns, Mary.” A dark-haired, sultry-eyed woman with wide, pouting lips and an arresting presence stepped through the others. “I am Lady Nicoletta di Franco, and I am most honored to make your acquaintance, Kate.”
Kate sank into a deep curtsey, but the woman caught her elbow.
“No, you shall not bow to any in this room,” Lady Nicoletta ordered in a husky tone and smiled, a secret sort of smile, as the other women gasped, affronted. Turning to them, she raised an amused brow. “Have a care! You are fools if you cannot see that soon you will bow before her. Bring her your finest gown, Mary, and give wings to your feet!”
“Then ye be the fool, Nicoletta!” The one called Mary rolled her eyes spitefully. “’Twas only this evening the earl himself swore to wed Lady Elsa. ‘Tis the talk on everyone’s lips!”
The words cut Kate’s heart like a knife, and she suddenly could not breathe.
“And you, Mary, can never see further than an inch afore your nose,” Lady Nicoletta responded coolly. “You would do well to understand the hearts of those you watch. Mark my words, the earl will make this one countess or turn monk the remainder of his days. Have I ever been wrong?”
Apparently, she hadn’t because the women of the chamber fell silent and Mary cleared her throat. “Shall I bring the gray gown with the pearls or do ye think the blue satin would suit her better?”
Kate was grateful the women had moved away. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Of course, she knew she could never wed the man, but had he already promised himself to Lady Elsa? She wanted to run away and weep, but Lady Nicoletta gave her no opportunity.
“Do not listen to rumors, Kate,” the woman advised softly. “And do not doubt your earl.”
Kate frowned. It made little difference. Cameron could never be hers.
Leaning forward, Lady Nicoletta placed a finger on Kate’s lips. “You have much to learn. Silence will be your friend until you understand the game. Be silent and watch.”
Perplexed, Kate sealed her lips and allowed the women to dry her hair and clothe her in a fine gray gown with pearls sewn in the bodice. As Lady Nicoletta brushed and arranged her hair, she began to dispense advice in a firm, imperious tone. “In court, there are rumors and truth. The truth is seldom heard. You must watch for it in fleeting looks and false laughter, in who speaks to whom—”
“And who beds whom!” Someone giggled.
“Ach, she knows that!” another hissed spitefully.
Kate felt her cheeks redden with shame.
“And you must never betray what you feel.” Lady Nicoletta searched her face with a raised brow.
Kate sighed and answered with heartfelt sincerity, “I’ll never be a creature of the court, my lady. I am a lowly fisherman’s daughter, and ‘tis far too late for me to learn such wily ways.”
Several of the ladies murmured soft sounds of sympathy, and even Mary suddenly fell silent.
With a knowing smile, Lady Nicoletta leaned close and whispered in her ear, “Some are born with the skill. Already, you have begun to melt their icy hearts. I pray you will remember me, my lady, for I may one day beseech a favor from you.”
Kate frowned in confusion.
“What secrets are ye sharing?” someone complained as Lady Nicoletta slipped her arm around Kate’s waist, and guiding her to the adjoining chamber, announced her to the princess.
Princess Anabella sat at the table, poring over a manuscript with her small dog upon her lap. She glanced up as Kate entered and absently began fingering the diamond brooch on the bodice of her jeweled satin gown. Her dangling gold earrings glittered in the candlelight.
“Your highness.” Kate sank so low that she lost her balance and slipped to her knees.
The princess burst into a startled laugh.
With her ears flaming red, Kate struggled to her feet. “Forgive me, your highness,” she said through dry lips, wanting nothing more than to cry. “I truly belong in the kitchens and not in your presence bedecked in such finery.”
Rising to her feet, the princess advanced, still holding her dog. “Ach, ye foolish lass.” The austere woman’s voice sounded mildly annoyed. “Ye have placed my beloved kinsman in the greatest danger. How could ye not know?”
“I thought he was a thief, your highness!” Kate whispered in her defense.
“A thief?” The princess paused mid-step. Frowning a moment, she scowled. “I have asked how ye failed in knowing your outburst would only place him in great danger! Why do ye speak of a thief?”
Kate swallowed, wishing herself anywhere but under the woman’s critical eye.
“Speak!” The woman ordered sharply.
In halting words with eyes averted, Kate recounted her first meeting and the resulting misunderstanding of Cameron’s identity. When she was finished, she cast a side length glance to discover, to her utter astonishment, that the woman’s lips held the hint of a smile.
“‘Tis an entertaining tale,” the gruff woman admitted, returning to her chair to lean back in it comfortably. “But ye are a fool if ye think to change a man’s heart.”
“Aye, your highness,” Kate agreed, keeping her gaze focused on the floor.
“And what would ye say, if I were to tell ye that Cameron will wed Lady Elsa by midsummer?” The princess looked directly at her.
Kate swallowed, striving to choose her words carefully. “I … would wish him well, your highness,” she finally said. Her heart felt heavy, and she closed her eyes tightly, refusing to shed tears.
“Ach!” The princess expelled an exasperated breath. “I am not as hard-hearted as I may seem, lass. I would ye could share your lives, for I can see ye truly love the man, but only tales have happy endings. A man of his position must wed as politics require. There is little room for love. Such is the ugliness of life.”
“Aye, your highness,” Kate whispered. “I willna stand in his way. I was on my way to Edinburgh when I received your message.” She clenched her hands to give herself strength. She absolutely would not weep and especially not in front of this woman.
“I am prepared to take ye into my household, to protect my kinsman,” Princess Anabella stated briskly. “But ye’ll see naught of him from this time forth. His time of dallying with ye is over. Others could use ye against him, and ‘tis too dangerous for us all should that happen. Do ye understand?”
Her words reminded Kate at once of Thomas’ warning. It seemed so long ago. Ach, but the man hadn’t been drunk. He’d sent a warning to Cameron and she had blithely tossed it away. She had been naïve! She had no business being involved in court affairs.
“What is it?” the princess asked, watching her face.
“I understand, your highness.” Kate licked her dry lips. She could never place Cameron in danger. She still loved him. She always would. “I’ll not bring harm upon him, I swear it.”
The princess nodded firmly, apparently pleased with her answer. “Each of the ladies who serve me comes from the finest of families in Scotland, France, and Italy, and each possesses talents that I find us
eful. Are ye skilled with the needle?”
She had no skill that a princess would find desirable, and by the sharp glint in the woman’s eye, it was obvious the princess knew it as well.
Were court games always so cruel, so humiliating?
With a twinge of anger, she curtsied again and replied honestly, “I fear I have no talent to offer ye, your highness. I am a fisherman’s daughter who has only her father left in this world, and I live to enjoy what beauty I may each day for I have seen it taken away in the blink of an eye.”
Princess Anabella’s gaze hardened. “’Tis a folly of the young, to believe there is beauty in the day. When ye have lost enough, ye’ll see there is no more beauty to be had.”
“Then I will remember what I have encountered thus far, your highness.” Kate murmured, thinking of the days she had spent sailing on the lochs with her sister, the laughter she had shared with her mother, and the glorious night with Cameron. Aye, she would live in memories, if she must.
“’Tis your pure heart that is your talent, child.” Princess Anabella’s voice cut through her thoughts. “But few hearts are strong enough to resist power and greed. I shall be most curious to watch how ye fare at court.”
Unsure of the expected response, Kate curtsied again.
“Nicoletta!” The princess called, waving a dismissive hand. “Take her away.”
After showing her where she was to sleep and giving her a chest, several fine gowns, and a silver-handled brush, Lady Nicoletta permitted her to slip away to visit her father. But by the time Kate finally found him, he was snoring soundly in a soft, feather bed.
Kate stood quietly by his side, looking down upon him.
Clad in fine clothing and sleeping peacefully, her father already looked younger. Several flasks of water from St. Fillans stood on a nearby table, along with the remains of a roasted chicken and a goblet of wine. The chamber was small but finely furnished with even a rug and a silver candlestick.
A wave of emotion rose to engulf her. Her father looked so comfortable. She could never provide for him so. And then her anger evaporated. If being Cameron’s man afforded him the opportunity to be well, then how could she deny him the chance?
