by Merry Farmer
“Aye,” Elizabeth agreed solemnly, not looking up from her stitches. “ ’Tis almost as bad as leaving your lady wife in captivity for—”
“—eight long years,” Robert finished, with a put-upon sigh. But he was smiling when he reached her chair and rested his hand on her shoulder. “How long are ye going to keep bringing that into arguments, lady wife?”
Elizabeth’s lips twitched. “Likely until we are both old and grey.”
“I’m already getting grey hairs, Elizabeth, and ye’ve been home less than a fortnight.”
Finally, the Queen rested her embroidery on her lap and reached up to touch his hand on her shoulder. “Someone has to keep you sharp, Robert,” she said, with a slight smile. “Elsewise, your mind will turn to mush, and Scotland will fall.”
As if emboldened by her teasing, Robert’s grin grew, and he twisted his fingers through hers, lifting her hand to his lips. “I gladly give ye leave to keep me sharp and happy, my love.”
When Elizabeth blushed prettily, Liam turned away.
It wasn’t because he was jealous of his cousin, not exactly.
Aye, seeing the way Robert had welcomed Elizabeth back home, and seeing the way Elizabeth had taken command of so many things, had left Liam longing for a life he could build with Charlotte. Even a few months ago, he might’ve been jealous, might’ve resented Robert for being allowed such open devotion.
But now?
Now, Liam knew Charlotte was waiting for him.
Last year, when they’d parted, their future had been uncertain. He’d been answering Robert’s call for men at Bannockburn, and she’d thought he’d abandoned her. The complications of her contract with the MacDonalds, her treatment at John’s hands, and her father destroying Liam’s letters, had all served to make their future anything but certain.
But Liam’s duty was done. He’d delivered the Queen—safely—to Scone, and fulfilled his obligation to his cousin. While he’d always have a soft spot in his heart for Elizabeth, and would’ve given his life to protect her, he knew she couldn’t be the only woman in his future.
Charlotte would be his wife, no matter what her father said.
He’d given her that vow, and Liam intended to make it happen...and soon.
But first, he needed to do what he could to help her. She’d risked so much—her and that idiot brother of hers—to make sure the King knew of the MacDonald treachery. Liam would ensure it hadn’t been for naught.
At the thought of what she’d endured at John MacDonald’s hands, Liam’s stomach roiled sickeningly. His hands curled into fists at his side, and he squeezed his eyes closed in an effort to banish the image of her lying helpless under a villainous man.
But she wasn’t helpless, was she?
He took a deep breath, then another, forcing himself to relax. He’d been through this so many times over the last fortnight, since hearing of her ordeal, and the only thing which helped was reminding himself Charlotte was smart and strong and capable. She’d held him at sword point, after all, and she’d mentioned she’d made MacDonald bleed.
She’d avenged herself, and through her wits, was continuing to avenge herself.
Liam vowed he would do what he could to help.
Behind him, the King cleared his throat. “Back to the matter at hand, my love. This Lady Charlotte...tell me what ye ken of her.”
Liam turned back to see Elizabeth pursing her lips—lips which looked well-kissed—thoughtfully.
“She is crafty,” the Queen finally said. “Intelligent. Used to being underestimated, and knows well how to use that notion. A woman who knows how to get what she wants, and who, luckily, is also honest.”
Not for the first time, Liam thought the Queen and his love would be quite good friends, if the circumstances had been different.
Perhaps the Queen suspected the same, because she nodded firmly. “Charlotte MacLeod is strong, aye, but more importantly, smart.”
Liam’s lips twitched. “Smarter than me, I ken it.”
“Aye,” Robert chuckled. “I suspect that’s true of most ladies. Ye love her?”
His cousin’s question was surprising, but Liam answered truthfully. “With everything I am, Yer Majesty. When this is over, when she has her vengeance, I will marry her.”
“Will she agree?” his cousin teased.
“If she doesnae, I’ll follow her until the end of time, trying to convince her.”
The two cousins shared a companionable smile, but the Queen drew their attention once more.
“Interesting you call it her vengeance, Liam. You do not wish your own retaliation on this John MacDonald? For what he has done to your lass?”
It was obvious from the gleam in the Queen’s eyes, this was a test of some sort, but Liam didn’t bother puzzling through it.
“Ye’ve been with me every day for months, Yer Majesty. I’m surprised ye give me such little credit. I would kill MacDonald for what he’s done to Charlotte…but it would still be her, and her soul, who needs this retribution.”
When Elizabeth nodded in approval, Liam knew he’d answered correctly. He straightened his shoulders and turned to his royal cousin.
“Ye have the evidence in front of ye, Robert. Will ye act on it? John MacDonald is a menace to women, to anyone he sees as weaker than him. But he’s also a traitor.”
Liam was sure he’d known the answer to his question, but when Robert folded his arms in front of him and turned back to the letters spread on the table, fear settled in Liam’s stomach.
After a long moment, the King shook his head. “Ye are my kinsman, Liam, and a member of my clan. The woman ye love deserves vengeance…”
Liam mirrored his liege’s pose. “But?” he prompted, dread making the word taste sour on his tongue.
Robert sighed. “But I’m also a king. The MacDonald patriarch is a powerful man, a powerful ally. He would also make a powerful enemy.”
When his cousin turned to meet his eyes, sorrow evident in the older man’s, Liam understood what he was saying. The evidence spread on the table was enough to convict John MacDonald of treason. Enough to hang him, or if Robert was feeling particularly nasty, an even worse fate.
But if he did that, if Robert condemned John to death, he risked making an enemy of his father, a powerful laird. The MacDonald clan was already in the King’s suspicions, it wouldn’t take much to set them all on John’s traitorous path, if they had reason to hate the Crown.
Charlotte had risked everything to bring Robert this evidence, but the King couldn’t act on it.
He couldn’t give her the retaliation she deserved.
Liam lifted his chin and dropped his hand to the hilt of his sword. “Then let me make an enemy of him.”
Robert understood, and when he shook his head, looked almost reluctant. “Ye mean to challenge John MacDonald to a duel of honor? Accuse him of treason?”
“Nay, I’ll challenge him based on what he did to Charlotte. She announced his crime before the Queen and my men; nae one would be surprised.”
For a moment, he thought the King would grant him leave to do so. But then Robert glanced at his wife and exhaled, shaking his head. He lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck, and seemed genuinely regretful when he said, “I’m sorry, Liam. It would be honorable to do so, but then MacDonald would ken it was one of my men—my bodyguard, my kinsman—who’d killed his son. It would be just as bad as if I had executed the traitor myself.”
Honestly, Liam hadn’t expected his liege to rule any differently. Robert was a good man, but more importantly, a good king. He put the welfare of Scotland above any one person, including himself.
So Liam slammed his fist against his chest and bowed his head. “I understand, Yer Majesty. I’ll no’ challenge him.”
“But…?”
When Liam met his eyes, Robert’s were sparkling with what might have been disbelief.
Liam’s lips twitched. “But his crimes will no’ go unpunished.”
His King wa
tched him for a long moment, then exchanged a glance with the Queen. When she dropped her chin in faint approval, Robert nodded as well.
“I believe my lady has a suggestion which might help with that. Elizabeth?”
His wife lifted her chin, a cunning gleam in her eyes. “I’ll not reveal all my secrets before I have a chance to discuss with my husband, but aye. I believe my idea will ensure John MacDonald’s punishment to the fullest, and it will be unsanctioned by the crown. I will explain once the lady Charlotte arrives.”
Liam’s heart had leapt at the casual reference to Charlotte’s arrival, and he barely heard the rest of her words. He stepped forward. “Ye’ve sent for her, Yer Majesty?”
The Queen’s lips twitched just slightly. “Aye. One could argue she deserves punishment for what she did, but I believe she is too valuable an asset to be wasted.”
“Ye’ll no’ punish her or her— Or the pirate?”
“Some might say what I have in mind for her is punishment enough.”
Slowly, Liam’s incredulity turned to hope. The Queen spoke in riddles, but he could tell from her wry grin, the punishment she had in mind wasn’t horrible.
At least, that’s what he hoped.
“And now…” King Robert crossed to the Queen once more, and when she gave him her hand, he tugged her to her feet. “Go away, cousin. I’ve been apart from my wife for much too long, and there’s the little matter of the royal succession to ensure.”
Rather than blushing, Elizabeth was grinning when she waved at Liam. “Aye, go away, Liam. The King and I have things to discuss.”
As Liam closed the door behind himself, he heard the two of them laughing, and the sound made him smile.
But as the gaiety faded behind him, he realized the next several days would carry the weight of his future. He had a duty to Charlotte, and she would be arriving soon.
She would have to face the King and Queen to hear their sentence.
God willing, it would be one both Charlotte and Liam could live with.
Chapter 9
“ ’Tis so exciting, my lady, is it no’? To be here in Scone once more and having an actual audience with Her Majesty! ‘Tis just as ye were hoping!”
Charlotte sat stiffly on the stool and did her best to ignore her maid’s chattering as the girl yanked and prodded her thick red hair into some kind of order. Charlotte’s mother had always despaired of her wearing aught more than a braid, and had instructed young Annas to ensure Charlotte was well-dressed and elegant when she was presented to the King and Queen.
Annas tugged particularly hard, trying to get Charlotte’s locks under control, and she pressed her lips together to keep from crying out.
Ye didnae cry when John pinned ye down, Char. Ye’ll no’ cry now.
Nay, this pain was nothing compared to what she’d felt then. Or what she’d felt when Liam had left her, and she believed he’d been using her.
But now she knew her father had lied about Liam being betrothed. Liam had been true to her, had even written to her…and he still wanted to marry her.
Would the Queen allow it? Or would Charlotte’s beautifully coiffed head sit atop a spike on the battlements this time tomorrow?
As Annas prattled on about the honor of being presented to royalty, Charlotte closed her eyes and admitted the truth: She was terrified.
Not of dying, not really. When she’d proposed the outrageous pirating plan to Tavish, she’d known there was a very real chance she’d not live to see John punished. She’d trained with her brother as much as possible, and she knew well how to handle a blade. More importantly, she knew how to handle herself, and that—more than anything—meant she’d face any danger with the utmost confidence and pride.
Nay, she wasn’t scared of dying. But she was scared of dying before she had a chance with Liam. A chance at even a brief future with Liam.
A month ago, she hadn’t known that was even a possibility. Now, she was terrified it wasn’t.
“Thank goodness yer lady mother sent this fine gown, aye, Lady Charlotte? The green is so vibrant, an’ makes yer eyes sparkle like a lass’s should!”
Her eyes were still closed, so how would Annas know if they sparkled? Charlotte stifled a sigh. They were of an age, she and her maid, but she’d never felt so old as she did now, listening to the girl prattle on about irrelevant details such as gowns and hairstyles.
The Queen must put up with this all the time.
The unexpected thought had Charlotte snorting slightly, incredulous. She’d met Queen Elizabeth so briefly, but in that time, had known her to be a kindred spirit. A strong woman, surrounded by men who thought her little more than a pawn, but who possessed a keen mind.
When the Queen had asked if Charlotte was willing to kill a man to complete her mission, it hadn’t sounded as if it had been mere idle speculation.
Charlotte had never met the Bruce, but she’d be willing to bet his wife was just as dangerous as the stories she’d heard told of the King.
With a sigh, she opened her eyes and admitted the truth: If she’d met the Queen under different circumstances, they might’ve been friends.
Well, that’s what ye get for attempting to kidnap royalty, lass.
“Char!”
Tavish’s worry was palpable as he burst into the chamber she’d been given. “I just heard ye were here. I’ve been here waiting on— Well, it matters no’. What in the damnation are ye doing here, Charlotte?”
He reached for her hands, and Charlotte squeezed them gratefully.
“I’m so glad to see ye, Tav.” She stood, pulling away from Annas’s ministrations, not caring if her coiffure was complete. “Ye just arrived?”
“I was—” He shook his head. “It matters naught how I heard of yer arrival, sister. What are ye doing here?” Pulling her closer, he frowned down at her. “Were ye sent for? Did Liam contact ye? Or is it the Bruce himself? Why did ye no’ call for me to escort ye?”
She exhaled, more pleased than she’d realized to have him with her. “No one kenned where ye were, Banner.”
When Tav’s eyes flicked toward Annas, Charlotte winced slightly, forgetting the maid was listening. Without releasing her brother, she turned to the other woman.
“Leave us,” she commanded, her voice catching. “I need to speak with my brother.”
“But, my lady!” the little maid protested, “I still need to pin up yer braids and smooth down yer—”
“I am dressed enough for Mass, therefore I’m dressed enough for the King,” Charlotte snapped in return.
Annas hesitated, before curtseying and dashing from the room.
When Charlotte turned back to her brother, he was regarding her wryly. “I heard ye’d turned all religious on us, Char. From what I heard about that last dinner on Lewes—”
She had no time for his teasing. “I’m no’ taking vows, ye clot-heid! But the point is valid— Oh, why am I arguing this?” It mattered not what she wore to church, nor what she wore to hear her sentence from the King. “What were we speaking of?”
Her brother sobered instantly. “Ye were about to tell me Liam summoned ye here, rather than the King, aye?”
Charlotte had to wince again, and when she reluctantly shook her head and pulled her hands from his, she knew Tav’s sharp intake of breath meant he understood.
“’Twas the King’s seal on the letter to Da, Tav.”
He muttered a curse and raked his hand through his curls. “ ’Tis what I heard, aye, but I hoped mayhap it was Liam.”
“Aye,” she said dully, sinking into the chair once more.
“Is it a sentencing?”
She met his eyes. “I donae ken. I assume so.”
“I’m going with ye,” he said in a low voice, his gaze intense. “Donae argue.”
“Of course I’ll argue.” She shook her head and turned slightly, giving him her shoulder as she reached for the pins on the dressing table and began to arrange them in her hair with shaking hands. “Ye’re my brot
her, and I’ll do everything in my power to protect ye.”
He snorted. “Ye’re my little sister, Char. I’m supposed to protect ye.”
“The scheme was mine, Tav,” she reminded him in a whisper. “I’ll no’ have ye punished for it.”
“And I’ll no’ let ye face the King and Queen alone.”
“She willnae be alone.”
Charlotte’s heart leapt into her throat at the sound of the smooth baritone, and she twisted toward the door.
Liam.
He stood there, looking as clean and polished as any courtier in the royal court, his plaid proclaiming him a kinsman to the king, and his sword proclaiming him a warrior.
He belonged here.
And she belonged by his side.
She stood, and immediately, a sense of peace, of certainty, settled in her stomach. She inhaled deeply, and as she exhaled, she felt her lips stretch into a grin.
He was here. He was here with her, and together, they’d face the future.
No matter what it held.
“I missed ye,” she said simply.
Liam stepped into the room, ignoring her brother. “As much as I missed ye?”
She wanted to rush across the room, to pull him into her arms, to feel his strength wrap around her. But when she took her first step, so did he, and they met in the center of the room.
He didn’t reach for her. He just stared down at her, his eyes drinking in her features, as if he were trying to memorize them.
Her brother cleared his throat. “Liam…?”
Liam didn’t drop her gaze when he answered Tav’s unspoken question. “I’ll let no harm come to her, Tav. Ye have my word.”
No harm.
Did that mean…?
Charlotte sucked in a hopeful breath, and when his lips twitched in acknowledgment, she closed her eyes on a thankful prayer.
“Ye’ll no’ let the Queen punish her then?” Tav pressed.
She felt Liam turn away from her, addressing her brother, even as he reached out and took one of Charlotte’s hands.
“The Queen’s plan is unorthodox, but I know Char and I will both benefit from it.”
She heard Tav’s sigh of relief as she opened her eyes. Her brother was staring at both of them. When his gaze dropped to their clasped hands, he nodded thoughtfully.
