by Merry Farmer
Mayhap he continued to speak, but Charlotte heard little after “a few missives.”
“Ye’ve written me?” she blurted, interrupting him.
He frowned. “Aye. No’ often, but a few, telling ye I was safe after the battle, or asking ye to be patient with me, as I couldnae return yet.”
Shaking her head, Charlotte released him and stumbled backward, sheathing her sword with trembling hands.
He wasn’t betrothed. He hadn’t abandoned her. He’d written, asking her to wait.
“I never got yer letters,” she whispered hoarsely. “What happened—”
Her brother’s loud snort drew her attention, but Tav wasn’t looking at them. Nay, he cut an impressive figure, all in black, his arms folded as he frowned down at his men administering to the Queen’s bodyguards.
He didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t need to.
“Da,” she whispered, and caught her brother’s faint nod.
Liam stepped forward, then halted, as if unsure if he should go to her or stay at the Queen’s side. “Ye thought I’d abandoned ye? Ye didnae see the messengers?”
“I was at the MacDonald holding,” she said dully, staring at the waves over Tav’s shoulder. “Being told what a miserable piece of garbage I was, and listening to them plot treason. I believed my father when he told me ye’d used me and run back to yer Lowland lass.”
When he took her hand, his fingers twining through hers, she glanced at him, then down.
“Why?” he whispered.
Why were they treating ye like that?
She understood his question, because she’d asked the same many times. “Because John MacDonald discovered I wasnae a virgin, and threatened to void the marriage contract my father had made with his. When our fathers refused, he…” She forced herself not to think of those days before she escaped. “He cast me aside on his own.”
Liam made a noise, but as she was staring at their joined hands, Charlotte didn’t know what it meant. She wasn’t sure if she was angry, or embarrassed, to have to tell him all this with their current audience.
It was the Queen who saved her by sweeping up and folding her hands in front of her, poised and regal, as if she was standing at court, instead of on the swaying deck of a wounded birlinn.
“Well, I cannot say this has been the most normal return, what with the secrecy and the pirate attack and the lack of triumphant procession. But seeing the two of you reunite has certainly been…interesting.” Her eyes hardened. “And now that it is through, you will give me an explanation and the return of my men. Immediately.”
Swallowing, Charlotte pulled away from Liam’s hold. She’d been the one to give the orders to attack her sovereign lord’s wife. It could be argued her treasonous act deserved the harshest penalty, and now they could not even hide behind anonymity. Thankfully, although Liam knew who her brother was, they hadn’t identified him in front of the Queen.
Would Liam keep the secret, even if Charlotte had to be punished?
Please God, donae let him be the one to take my head, if that’s what Elizabeth decides.
She placed her right palm over her heart and sunk to one knee before the Queen, the way she’d seen her father’s warriors pledge their fealty.
“I have evidence of treason, Yer Majesty. I’ve been to court twice since Hogmany, with excuses both times, and been refused access to the King.”
“So you escalated to becoming a pirate and kidnapping your Queen? I simply cannot imagine why the King’s guards would not let you see him. Did it not occur to you that the King was not even in Scone?”
It was impossible to miss the amused note in the other woman’s voice, but Charlotte didn’t lift her gaze from the Queen’s knees. “Aye, Yer Majesty,” she whispered hoarsely. “But I got tired of being ignored.”
“I will have to remember that,” the Queen said dryly.
“As will I,” Liam rumbled.
Charlotte swallowed again, wondering if she might actually live through the day.
“Rise, Lady Charlotte,” Elizabeth demanded. “I will hear your reasons and see your evidence, but”—she hastened to add, as Tav lowered his arms and stepped toward their group—“not on your ship. Here. On my ship. Surrounded by my men.”
Slowly, Charlotte gained her feet, working through the implications. She glanced at Liam, whose expression was carefully neutral as he stood equidistant from the two women. Not an hour ago, she was sure she hated him, but now, she didn’t understand her own feelings.
If everything he’d said was true—and she had to admit he was no liar—then she had no reason to hate him.
And if he was still the man she’d fallen in love with, then she knew he wouldn’t hurt her.
But would he allow her to be hurt by someone else? Did his loyalty to Elizabeth run deep enough to stand by as his men took her and her brother down?
She met his eyes, hoping for an indication.
She received none.
It was as if he were leaving the decision up to her.
She swallowed, then nodded. No matter what came of today, she would show Liam she trusted him. And that she was sorry she doubted him.
“Aye,” she croaked, then whirled on her brother. “Bring me the letters.”
Tav rolled his eyes. “Are ye daft, lass? Ye may believe him, and his oh-so-logical reasons, but I’ve hated him right alongside ye for almost a year. I’ll no’ forgive him so easily, nor will I leave ye here alone with him.”
“I will be here, Lord Banner,” the Queen said imperiously.
Tav sketched a bow, as if reminding her she didn’t know his name. “And ye may be my Queen, but ye have the same sharp look as Char, begging yer pardon. I wouldn’t trust either of ye, as far as I could throw ye.”
Elizabeth’s lips twitched as her eyes raked over Tav’s wide shoulders. “Probably a wise idea.”
Tavish rose and turned to the watching men once more. “Tosh,” he called down, “bring Her Majesty’s guards up here and make them comfortable.”
His second raised a brow, then shrugged. “Aye, Banner. But I’ll keep ‘em tied, if it’s all the same.”
“The Queen’s invited them for tea and cakes, but she’ll have to be disappointed.”
Elizabeth snorted at Tav’s quip.
Ignoring her, Tav cupped his hands and bellowed across to his own birlinn. “Dane! Bring the small casket!”
“Dane?” Liam blurted incredulously. “Ye brought yer son pirating?” He whirled on Charlotte. “Ye allowed it?”
It was Tav who answered with a nonchalant shrug. “The family business, aye?”
The two men frowned at one another for a long moment, before Tav’s gaze flicked to first her, then Elizabeth. Liam seemed to understand the man was daring him to reveal his identity to the Queen, and Charlotte watched the realization creep up on him—if he told Elizabeth the Black Banner was the brother of the woman he loved, he’d be complicit.
Liam sighed and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his chest and frowning at both MacLeods, as if blaming them for his situation.
Well, it is yer fault, lass.
Charlotte’s lips twitched at the thought.
When Elizabeth sank down onto the cushion-covered chair, it was hard for Charlotte to remember she wasn’t in a throne room. It was also hard to remember the woman had spent the last eight years in near-solitary confinement in England; she was just as poised and elegant as she ever was.
Tosh and a few black-clad men carried Liam’s men up to the dais, and were preparing to arrange them on the floor, when the Queen spoke.
“Release them. I will hear from them myself,” she commanded.
Everyone froze. Elizabeth’s demand countered Tav’s, and Tosh glanced at Charlotte for instructions.
She swallowed again, resisting the urge to look to Liam for a hint or suggestion. Releasing the Queen’s bodyguards would put Charlotte and her men at a severe disadvantage, and if Elizabeth planned to take revenge for th
eir attack, that would be the perfect time to do it.
On the other hand, Charlotte had been at fault, and the woman was her liege’s wife.
So she nodded to Tosh, who shrugged and sliced the bonds on the man he was carrying.
For better or worse, the die was cast.
Chapter 6
As soon as Ross’s boots hit the deck, Liam lunged toward him, grabbing the other man’s shoulders and helping to keep him upright. He was bleeding from a cut on his hairline, and was blinking woozily around him, but for the most part, he still seemed to be whole.
Murtaugh was unconscious, and Liam found himself praying it was from a blow to his head, rather than any unseen blood loss. Tearlach surged to his feet and stood between the pirates and his brother, his dirk held in his left hand as his right hung awkwardly. Broken?
But it was Finn who worried Liam the most. The youngest of their team thrashed against his bonds, his threats and curses muffled by the length of MacLeod plaid shoved in his mouth. Apparently, the pirates had grown weary of his voice.
When he was freed, Finn launched himself at Tosh, going from horizontal to vertical with all the speed and grace of youth. Arms outstretched, he seemed ready to strangle the pirate when Liam stopped him.
“Finn!” He used his voice as a whip, knowing the lad would remember his training. “Stand down. The Queen,” he snapped, knowing Finn would understand.
He did. The lad halted his attack, glared at Tosh—who appeared more than a little amused by the threat—and dropped his palms to his empty sheaths, before moving to stand beside the Queen.
Liam took a deep breath, his eyes darting around their little scene. His men were alive and accounted for, and in a position to protect Elizabeth if something went wrong.
If Charlotte betrayed them all.
But she’d been in power, and there’d been no good reason for her to cut loose his men and give up that power, unless she meant what she’d said to the Queen. She really was only here to talk.
And so, when Elizabeth settled herself in her chair and raised an imperious brow at Charlotte, he moved to stand beside the woman he loved.
He might not be able to protect her from Elizabeth’s wrath, and he might not be able to offer her comfort for whatever had pushed her to this course of action, but he could be there for her all the same.
What had she’d said about her time at Finlaggan?
Being told what a miserable piece of garbage I was.
His rage, at hearing those words spoken so neutrally, as if she’d long-ago accepted the affront, had been near overwhelming. Then, to hear her admit the marriage contract her father had made was voided because she wasn’t a virgin…
Cold had slammed into him, at the realization of how John MacDonald had known that.
When Charlotte took a deep breath, her shoulder brushed against his, but she didn’t glance his way, and he resisted the urge to touch her further.
Losing control in front of the Queen once had been enough.
“Yer Majesty, last autumn, regardless of what happened…between Liam and myself…” She shook her head and cleared her throat. “My father made a marriage contract with the MacDonald of Finlaggan, selling me to his youngest son. I am no’ my father’s only daughter, no’ even his eldest. My sister made an advantageous marriage two years ago, and I’d lost my value to him as an alliance broker.”
It was impossible not to hear the bitterness in her voice when she spoke of her father’s attitudes. Liam was relieved it hadn’t been there when she’d referenced what had passed between the two of them, but perhaps that was intentional.
What was interesting was the Queen’s response. Liam knew good and well she’d had an arranged marriage with Robert twelve years ago as an alliance between her father, the Earl of Ulster and good friend to King Edward of England, and the then-Earl of Carrick.
But despite her similar history, Elizabeth watched Charlotte dispassionately, not revealing her thoughts on the story she was being told.
“In an effort to facilitate the match, Da rushed me off to Finlaggan. Once there, I discovered I was to be treated as little more than—”
Her voice caught then, and when Tav stepped toward her—to offer support?—she shook her head and took a deep breath, straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin.
“My betrothed had nae use for me, nor any other woman, other than what lay between our legs. He told me so many times. He also did no’ bother hiding his sins, thinking me incapable of understanding.”
Slowly, Elizabeth moved, until her elbows were resting on the arms of the chair, and her fingers were laced before her. “You mentioned treason?”
Charlotte took another deep breath. “Aye, Yer Majesty. John MacDonald collaborated with the English prior to Bannockburn. He was in correspondence with the Warden of the Marches, discussing Scottish strengths and weaknesses. After his death during the battle, John contacted the Earl of Surrey, who now holds that position, and requested gold in exchange for his knowledge.”
The silence stretched between the two women. Finally, Elizabeth ducked her chin. “I have been away for eight long years, but even I know how powerful the MacDonalds can be—both as an ally, and as an enemy. Accusing even a younger son of treason should not be done lightly. Ye have evidence of this?”
Tavish stepped forward again, holding a carved casket in his hands. Behind him, his illegitimate son—the lad staring wide-eyed at the Queen—looked taller than the last time Liam had seen him.
And as angry as it made Liam to think of his friend subjecting the innocent lad to such dangers, he had to admit his own father had taken him reiving at the same age. He and Tav had become friends during his time on Lewes, and he didn’t like to think he’d lost Tav’s regard for good.
But as long as he could regain Charlotte’s, that’s what mattered most.
From the casket, Charlotte removed an oilskin packet, then nodded to her brother. Tavish waited a long moment before returning the nod, then tossed the empty wooden box to his son and stepped back to rest with his hands crossed atop his sword’s hilt.
Charlotte took a deep breath as she stared down at the packet in her hand, then turned and presented it to the Queen. “His letters, Yer Majesty. He bragged of their existence, so before I fled to Lewes, I stole them.”
Dispassionately, the Queen took the packet and removed the letters, flicking two of them open at random. Liam couldn’t read her expression.
When she finished reading those two letters, she opened another, then another. In all cases, she took care to examine the signature at the bottom of the letter.
She revealed nothing.
Finally, she hummed and stacked the letters on her lap, atop the oilskin packet. She laced her fingers in front of her chin, and peered at Charlotte. “Earlier, you said John MacDonald discovered your lack of maidenhead. How?”
Damn the consequences!
When the Queen asked what he wanted—needed—to know, Liam stepped forward to stand beside Charlotte once more. There was a moment, just a heartbeat, when he thought she might sink against him and take advantage of his strength.
But she wouldn’t be Charlotte if she didn’t meet her troubles head on.
His love kept her attention on the Queen, and Elizabeth’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’m waiting, Lady Charlotte.”
Finally, Charlotte looked away, but only to sweep her gaze over the gathered audience. All men. He read the significance in that look, and his heart began to slam against his ribs.
What had the bastard done to her?
When the Queen didn’t rescind her order, Charlotte didn’t back down. Of course not. She lifted her chin and met the other woman’s eyes, as if to say, Ye’ll force me to say it in front of these strangers? Aye, then.
“He raped me.”
Liam jerked as if hit, and without looking, Charlotte reached for his hand.
To hell with that! He wanted to wrap his arms—his body! His soul!—around her, and swear to her h
e’d protect her, he’d avenge her.
It wasn’t until she squeezed his hand that he realized she was comforting him.
“He bled for that particular sin, Yer Majesty, and I donae think he’ll force himself on an unwilling lass again.” When she shrugged, Liam could see the forced nonchalance in her posture. “Afterwards, I stole the letters and escaped. I kenned I needed to get them to Scone, but the only one who would take me was my—my brother, Tavish.” She didn’t look at the man in question, still trying to protect the Black Banner’s identity. “So I went to Lewes, and then to Scone, before Da realized I was gone. When we returned in failure, my father told me the marriage contract was still valid.”
It was not proper to speak while the Queen was deliberating, but to hell with propriety!
Liam gave into the urge he’d been fighting since her announcement, and pulled her into his arms. She didn’t fight him, thank God, but allowed him to offer her what comfort he could.
“I’ll make him pay, lass,” he said, under his breath. “Ye’ll no’ marry anyone but me.”
It was a vow he hoped he could fulfill. Their fate would be up to Elizabeth at this point.
Charlotte raised her head from his shoulder and took a deep breath. The sorrow in her eyes told him she knew that fact just as well as he did.
She was the one who looked away first, cutting her eyes toward the regal woman on the dais. Liam swallowed down his sigh and followed her gaze.
Liam respected Elizabeth and her husband, the King, and had pledged his loyalty to the Crown. But he loved Charlotte, and prayed he wouldn’t have to choose between his two loyalties again. Almost a year ago, he’d put his loyalty to his liege above his loyalty to his heart, and it caused Charlotte untold grief. He couldn’t do it again.
The Queen tapped the letters against her palm, as she stared at the two of them, and Liam couldn’t read her expression. She was just as intelligent and cunning as Charlotte.
Would she understand Charlotte’s desperation, and the drastic measures she felt she had no choice but to take, and overlook them?
