by Sondra Grey
The lists had all been handwritten and posted on various walls, and Edane found herself near the royal stables. Now where was Leith listed?
“Sixth on the day, and fighting Thomas Abercrombie,” came a deep voice behind her, startling her.
Whirling, and upsetting an elderly baron with her elbows, Edane came face to face with a sweat-soaked, amused Leith Macleod, who pointedly lifted her burgundy handkerchief to his nose.
Edane tried to gather her wits as she inclined her head at him. “My brother is fighting Abercrombie?” she said, making her voice sweet and inquiring. She was not a natural liar, but growing up under Lady Campbell’s thumb had often required her to act more contrite than she’d ever genuinely felt.
“You brother?” Leith was perplexed, but then he understood, and Edane was delighted to see two spots of pink appear on his cheeks. Embarrassed. She’d embarrassed him. Good. That was for the pinch last night.
“Oh. You mean you are fighting Sir Thomas?” said Edane, “Well. Congratulations I suppose Mr…?”
Oh, this was too good. Leith looked incredibly flustered. Edane gave him a look of sweet sympathy as if to say Yes, I tend to have that effect on men. She turned, pretending to scan the lists. “Sixth…” she said out loud, and stuck a finger next to his name. Then she turned back, “Congratulations Mr. Macleod,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll do wonderfully.”
She gave him a deep nod, and slid deeper into the crowd, congratulating herself on her response. She’d gone about ten steps when a hand gripped hers, halting her and forcing her to turn around.
“I suppose I deserved that.” Though he sounded contrite, Leith had recovered quickly and didn’t look the least bit chastened. In fact, his green eyes were flashing with interest. This close to her, he should have been an intimidating presence, but he wasn’t. His height seemed to block her from the rest of the courtyard; his attention made her feel as if they were alone somewhere.
“I suppose you did, too,” said Edane, trying to remain reproachful when her entire body wanted to respond to his nearness, to soften and bend into him.
“I’m Leith, Lady,” he said. His voice was deep, and the words rolled richly. Though his accent was distinctly northern, but it was he who she’d danced with last night. This close to him, she was certain.
“Edane,” she said.
“I know,” his grin was wry. “One of the queen’s ladies.”
Edane nodded but didn’t wish to speak of the queen, and so she said, instead, “What do you know of Thomas Abercrombie?”
“He’s a lowland knight, one of James’ devotees. Besides that, not much.”
“Hmm.” Edane put her hands on her hips. “That he made it out of the melee whole speaks more to his luck than his skill. He’s not bad with a sword - the king did knight him. But I think your match will be a short one.”
Leith’s grin was mischevious and addictive. The more she saw it, the more she wanted to see it. She’d seen him smile more in the past minute than she had since he’d arrived. “Are you telling me the truth, Lady? Or will I be facing a giant in a few hours’ time?”
He was teasing her. Edane was delighted, and she couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I suppose you will see in a few hours’ time.”
At her smile, he’d suddenly gone serious, eyes intent and focused on her lips. When he met her eyes again, his was smoldering. “And will you be there, watching your champion?”
The sudden intensity of the moment was familiar to Edane. And the familiarity reminded her that Leith may be attractive, his smile addictive, but he was no better than any other man here. He’d pinched her last night and looked as if he wanted to do it again. Worse, she wanted him to. She wanted him to reach out and touch her. And so Edane blinked, letting her face go blank with confusion. “My Champion? Sir Thomas?” she asked.
There were at least three other women in the castle with the initials EC - why was he so convinced she was the one he’d danced with last night? “He’s not my champion per se - though he’s a nice man, and quite pleasing to look at.” She straightened and patted Leith on the arm. “A good suggestion though, sir. If I’ve time later, I may come watch him fight you.”
Before he could respond, she swept off again, and this time he did not follow her.
Edane missed a good portion of the day’s events. Apparently, after the melee, James had taken Margaret to bed, and Margaret wanted to make certain all her ladies knew about it. She summoned them to her solar and spent a good two hours discussing the exact details of her marriage in a vivid description that made Edane blush. And Edane realized quickly that many of Margaret's descriptions were aimed at her.
“He loves me beyond all measure!” Margaret boasted, holding court in her solar from atop a mountain of plush cushions. “He said I am the most beautiful creature he’s ever beheld.”
If that were so, James was as good a liar as Edane. But Margaret’s women were all properly impressed and asked a series of ridiculous and embarrassing questions that made Edane’s ears flame. She wasn’t so innocent that she didn’t know what happened between a man and woman in the marriage bed. A good many of her brother’s visiting friends and one or two of her father’s associates had tried to get her into bed. Most had taken her dismissal in stride, but a few had pressed the issue. Edane’s brother Richard had had to intercede with one of them physically, and Lady Campbell had visited Edane’s rooms later that night to tell Edane that the fight was her fault for acting so boldly as to attract the young baron.
Edane had learned then that there was a difference between the flirtation of her sisters and her own light banter. After that, she’d been more careful. Except, of course, during the dinner with the King. When she’d come downstairs in that burgundy gown she loved so much.
Edane made sure to appear awestruck over Margaret’s detailed description and silently cheered Catherine Gordon when the lady asked if the queen would take in any more of the events.
Margaret brought the ladies out in time to see several rounds of the jousting, but she did not watch the sword matches further. Lord Percival was also competing in the joust and the queen and her retinue watched that for a time. After winning his match against a French knight, Lord Percival professed himself the queen’s champion and Margaret accepted a white rose from him. By the time they retired, Edane was wholly disillusioned about tournaments and chivalry. She vowed she’d never pick up another Arthurian romance again.
CHAPTER 9
E dane Campbell had been correct. Thomas Abercrombie was easy to dispatch. Leith made a show of it, pretending for all he was worth that he was actually struggling to best Abercrombie. There were a few other competitors who were watching the event with interest, and it was better they think him a mediocre swordsman. He could turn their confidence against them in the ring.
Once he’d disarmed and defeated Abercrombie, he looked around. There were, in fact, a fair number of ladies who’d come to watch his match. A few of them waved handkerchiefs at him, and Leith made sure to offer them flowery words of praise. There were a few, he saw, who were married, and one who offered him a decently explicit invitation to her bedchamber that night - one he would consider later.
But there was one face he was looking for that he did not see: Edane. She’d surprised him, thoroughly. Watching her - the pretty, sad thing who kept to the corners of the hall - he’d expected a mouse. He’d gotten an asp. Her bites had been too quick to appreciate until he was already faltering from their poison. She’d thoroughly disarmed him, and he hadn’t been so definitively put in his place since his mother had passed away.
To be honest, his pride was still stinging from her blows. He badly wanted to put the Lady Shadow in her place, take her over his knee, perhaps, and teach her a lesson. The thought was an appealing one.
“Made a show of that match,” said Richard, joining Leith as the older cousin strode towards his room. “And a few conquests as well.” There were at least five handkerchiefs sticking out of th
e pocket of Leith’s shirt.
“That lady Forsyth was particularly forward,” agreed Leith, giving his cousin a wolf’s grin.
“So, what you’re telling me is that I should have entered the lists myself.”
“Why bother, cousin? You’d only fall to me,” said Leith, patting the younger man on the shoulder. “If it’s tail you’re after, there’s plenty of it here. If the women here regularly bed men who have to hide the size of their cocks with those,” He gestured towards a lord walking past, wearing a codpiece, “they’re probably desperate for a real man.”
“Know this for a fact, do you?” murmured Richard.
Leith sighed. “Watch,” he said. They were coming up on two of the English girls who’d travelled to Edinburgh with the queen. Leith didn’t know their names, but as they passed, he could feel their eyes on his bare chest (his shirt had been soaked in sweat and he’d removed it after his match). Leith looked at the fairer one until she lifted her head and met his gaze.
“I’m sorry,” said Leith, stopping in his tracks. “I did not mean to stare, lady.”
The fair girl let out a hideous giggle. “What, pray-tell, were you staring at sir?” asked her friend, archly.
“In truth,” said Leith, thickening his brogue for effect, “A beauty more rare than I’ve seen on my humble island.” He bowed deeply. “Your servant, ladies.”
He used his most elaborate courtly bow, and then turned and walked off. “Go ahead and look,” said Leith.
Richard glanced over his shoulder. “I think you gave them the vapors,” he said, sounding disgusted.
“Cousin,” said Leith. “If you wish to entertain yourself amongst this ridiculous lot, be my guest. But I came to serve my time and then depart.”
“Did you?” muttered Richard. “Then that woman you spent all of last night dancing with...”
“Ah, her,” said Leith, grinning. “Her, I have plans for.”
CHAPTER 10
E dane spent the hour before the tournament dinner helping Lady Maxwell get ready. They would be having separate dinners tonight. Edane would be dining “intimately” with the king, his closest court, and the tournament champions. There would be at least forty people present.
But Lady Maxwell had demanded to hear about the ball and so Edane was forced to tell her all about the clown she’d danced with - how it was really Leith Macleod. She told the lady about the tournament, about her run in with Leith (she told the story in such a way that the poor Lady Maxwell was overcome with choking laughter). But then Edane sobered and told her about Margaret, about how Margaret had set her ladies before her and narrated her escapades with the King.
“I’m sure the whole thing was staged for my express benefit,” said Edane.
“Aren’t we full of ourselves,” murmured Lady Maxwell. Edane colored and said nothing further.
But Lady Maxwell seemed to think on Edane’s predicament and finally said, “My dear, I think the solution to your problem is obvious.”
“Is it?” asked Edane, archly.
“I said this a few days ago, when the Macleod first arrived. Take him as a lover.”
Edane’s face flamed. “No.”
“My girl,” said Lady Maxwell. “This isn’t your father’s house. This is court. You’ve got to learn to play the games or you’ll be swallowed whole. I do not trust our queen and you shouldn’t either. If Margaret suspects that the Highlander is your lover she’ll react in two ways. She’ll calm down and leave you alone, or she’ll shame you publicly and get rid of you.”
Edane stared at Lady Maxwell who rolled her eyes. “Or you can continue to skulk until the King decides he wants to ride you, tires of you, and casts you aside. I think you should make a conquest of the highlander. If you won’t let him between your thighs, at least show an interest in him publicly. It will get the queen off your scent.”
Edane took a deep breath. Lady Maxwell wasn’t entirely wrong. There wasn’t much harm in befriending the highlander. And Leith might have been friendly enough, but she knew what men like Leith wanted from her. And she wasn’t sure she was willing to give it up.
“We’ll see,” she said. “I have to go. I don’t want to be late.”
One of the things that Edane liked least about being one of the queen’s ladies (besides the abuse and the constant belittling she received) was that the queen was always late to events. She needed to make an entrance, and so Edane spent more time than was necessary waiting around for it to be late enough for Margaret to make her appearance.
Edane was also dismayed to find Lord Percival attending the queen in her solar, entertaining a few of the other ladies with tales of the match. Edane felt Lord Percival’s eyes on her as she took her seat, but she refused to return his gaze.
Margaret and her ladies spent an hour speaking to Lord Percival, and Edane worried that the growling in her stomach would soon become audible, when the queen finally decided that they could attend the supper with the other champions.
When Edane entered the hall, she immediately scanned the room, finding Leith in the corner, speaking to the scarred highlander who had also made it out of the Melee and past his first match. Edane wanted to play coy, but in a group this small her options were either stand in the corner by herself - join her father and brother in their conversation with Lord Graham, or hover near Margaret. None of those options sounded appealing and so she found herself wandering towards the highlanders.
Leith looked up as she approached and she hailed him by his title. “I hear, my lord, that you managed to eke out a win in your match against Abercrombie,” she said, giving them a curtsy in greeting. Both highlanders bowed, and when Leith straightened he pinned Edane with that interested, intense green gaze. “Indeed. Let’s hope I’m as fortunate tomorrow.”
“He’ll be fighting your brother, lady,” said the scarred highlander. Adam Mclean, Edane reminded herself. He was handsome but for that nasty scar. Nearly as broad as Leith, though an inch shorter in height, hair a golden shade of brown and trimmed short.
“Ah, well that will be an interesting match to watch,” said Edane. “Good luck to you, sir.” She turned her attention to the Mclean. “And what about you sir? Who do you fight tomorrow?”
“For my sins, Edmund Percival, and I thoroughly intend to lose,” said Adam, taking a large sip of his wine.
Edane gasped. “Lose on purpose!?”
“Oh yes. Percival has named himself queen’s champion, after all. It wouldn’t do for him to fall in the second rounds. At least this is what I am told,” He winked at Leith who rolled his eyes.
“By whom were you told this?” Edane wasn’t sure why but that was outrageous.
“By the king, though in not so many words. And we aim to please, us barbaric highland folk - wouldn’t want poor James and his court getting nervous.” The idea seemed to amuse Adam immensely.
“What about you, Mr. Macleod,” asked Edane. “If the king asks you to throw your match, will you?”
“I am lucky, lady, that he has not asked me.”
It was a non-answer, and Edane tilted her head, acknowledging the answers receipt. “Your information on Abercrombie was good,” Leith said. “What can you tell me about your brother?”
Edane glanced over to where Colin was flirting with two of the Queen’s ladies. Indeed, there seemed to be an abundance of men in this room and not much female companionship. Colin wasn’t the only young man vying for the ladies’ attention.
“He was taught by my father,” said Edane, finally. “And some of the finest swords-masters in Scotland.”
“Meaning he knows which is the pointy end at least,” said Adam, elbowing Leith in the arm. Leith grinned, and its easiness stole her breath away. She wanted nothing more than to make him smile again.
“Is he swift footed?” Leith pressed, the smile still lingering when he turned his attention back to Edane.
Edane shrugged. “If it were my brother Donald, I’d tell you. But I like Colin, and I’ll let him k
eep his secrets.”
She knew she had to depart their company lest people start talking. “Speaking of my brother. I will say hello to him. Good evening to both of you.” Edane curtsied and the two highlanders bowed in return. As she walked off, the further she moved from the highlander’s sides, the more anxious she felt. Strange. They were large, and fierce looking, and yet with them she’d felt safer than she had since arriving at the castle.
As Leith watched Edane float away from them and towards the other ladies in waiting he swore under his breath. “That,” he said to Adam Mclean, “Might be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“She is sweet to look upon,” Adam allowed. But he frowned as he watched her.
“What is it?” asked Leith, noting his friend’s silent critique.
“I feel badly for her. I hear the queen is nasty to her.”
“Oh?” Leith blinked towards where Margaret was speaking with Lord Percival. “And how do you hear that?”
Adam grinned at Leith. “The servants talk.”
“They talk to you?”
Adam winked and Leith rolled his eyes. “Bedding servant women,” he said. “You really are a second son, aren’t you?”
“I suppose the high and mighty Macleod wouldn’t deign to sheath his sword in anything other than virgin velvet.”
Leith scoffed. “Don’t be absurd.” But he watched Edane join the crowd by her brother. The women didn’t bother to look her way. Her brother barely acknowledged her. “What do your serving women say of the Argyle girl?”
“That Margaret takes her temper out on her. Tears her dresses and makes the girl sit up half the night mending them. Did you not see her at dinner the other night? She was almost sleeping while sitting upright.
Leith shrugged, but he was bothered by the information. So far, Edane Campbell had proven to be smart, adventurous, and witty. He liked speaking with her almost as much as he liked looking at her…
“Careful Macleod,” said Adam, no doubt reading the intention on Leith’s face. “They say she’s for James.”
