The Bruce's Angel (The Highland Angels Book 0)

by Caroline Lee

  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 watched 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 turne
d 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 brother, 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.

  “I spent the better part of a year hating ye for what ye did, Liam,” he said, matter-of-factly. When he lifted his eyes to his friend once more, he shrugged. “But Char has forgiven ye, and I find myself trusting ye once more.”

  Liam inclined his head. “Thank ye.”

  Tav winked at her. “I’ll leave ye be. Just donae tell anyone I’m such a poor chaperone I left the two of ye alone. In yer chamber.” His eyes cut toward the canopied bed. “Again.”

  “Ye’re a terrible chaperone,” Charlotte managed. “And I love ye for it.”

  “Go away, Tav,” Liam growled.

  Her brother probably smirked as he sauntered out, but Charlotte wasn’t watching him. Nay, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Liam, and how…strong he looked.

  When he turned to flick the latch on the door, ensuring no one would bother them, her eyes skimmed the width of his shoulders and the curve of his stubbled jaw. He was hearty and hale. Noble. Strong. Worthy.

  The kind of man a woman would be lucky to have love her.

  She tugged him back, willing him to meet her eyes. “Ye’ll stand with me?”

  “I’ll stand beside ye, Char. Not in front of ye, nor in back of ye, but beside ye.”

  “When I answer the royal summons?” That’s what he’d promised Tav.

  “Forever.”

  Hearing the vow ripped a half-laugh, half-sob from Char’s lips. She shook her head.

  “Ye say we’ll benefit from whatever the Queen has planned, and nae harm will come to me for my treason. But ‘tis hard to believe Elizabeth just accepted my evidence and agreed to punish John—”

  He cut her off with a shake of his head, and she damn near swallowed her voice, her heart leaping into her throat at that small action.

  Which part was he disagreeing with?

  Had she misunderstood what he’d said to Tav? Had her hope been premature?

  Blue eyes bore into hers for a long moment—searching, challenging—before he glanced away.

  Had she won their contest of wills? Or lost?

  “The King would no’ accuse him of treason, Char,” Liam finally said, his attention on the stool where she’d been sitting so recently. “He couldnae risk making an enemy of the MacDonalds.”

  She nodded stiffly, her head aching already from Annas’s pulling and prodding. It was hard to think with her hair all tied up like this!

  “That makes sense, and I was afraid ‘twould be his decision.”

  “Robert is wily, Char, and his wife is intelligent. Elizabeth has a plan.”

  “For John?”

  He swallowed. “For ye.”

  His eyes met hers, and the hesitation—the fear?—she saw there, gutted her.

  He was too strong to be afraid for himself. Nay, he was worried for her, and she knew what that meant.

  The King’s sentence.

  Liam obviously knew the sentence his cousin was going to pass down on her, and if he was looking at her this way, it could only mean …

  He’d lied to Tav. He’d lied to make her brother think she’d be safe. She should be angry, but all she felt was gratitude he’d managed to keep Tav safe.

  She swallowed. She’d accepted her own death was a possible outcome of her plan before she’d ever carried it out… But now she’d been given the possibility of a future with Liam, she found herself regretting it.

  Her hand somehow found its way to his chest, and her fingers spread across the fine linen of his shirt under the swath of Bruce plaid. His heart beat strongly, and she closed her eyes on the bitter realization she’d not be able to enjoy it beyond that moment.

  “The King?” she finally managed to ask.

  Liam’s hand covered hers, but she didn’t open her eyes, knowing she would see the pity showing in his.

  “Aye?” he asked, clearly not understanding her question.

  “Ye… Ye ken his decision?” she whispered.

  It was a long moment before he spoke. “He left it up to Elizabeth.”

  The Queen, who had even more reason to be angry at Charlotte than her husband did.

  “Oh.” It was all she could manage.

  But Liam understood. Of course he did. “She’s come to a decision.”

  Charlotte’s knees went weak. Mayhap she’d have fallen, except Liam was there, his free arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her against his chest. There, she could finally open he
r eyes, her gaze locking onto the far window.

  Would this be her last sight of the sun? Her last embrace with the man she loved?

  The man who didn’t even know she still loved him.

  She was no coward, but she’d put off hearing the Queen’s sentence a few more moments, if it meant savoring the feel of Liam’s arms around her. The universe shrunk to this warmth, this safety. Each heartbeat lasted eons, each breath was a shared lifetime together.

  But all too soon, Liam shifted. “Charlotte? Would ye care to hear her decision?”

  Nay!

  She’d care to spend the rest of her life wrapped in his arms, just like this.

  But even as she thought it, her ears recognized the smile in his voice. She pulled away, just enough to plant her other hand against his chest and look up into his face.

  Aye, he was smiling.

  Her eyes widened at the sight, and her heart leapt, closing off her throat in a fierce, sudden hope.

  Liam’s lips twitched wider. “The Queen thanks ye for yer service, Charlotte MacLeod, and acknowledges yer bravery in bringing a traitor to royal attention. Furthermore, she’ll pardon ye completely, if ye— Well…” Liam shook his head. “There’s a few clauses in there, but the most important one is, she wants to offer ye a position at court.”

  Charlotte’s mouth opened, but she couldn’t manage to make any sounds emerge. She swallowed and tried again. “A position? A…job?”

  He released her hand and lifted his palm to cup her cheek. “I didnae ask particulars, love. I was too desperate to reach ye, to tell ye the news.”

  Her chest felt numb.

  Why?

  Was it because, after the terror and acceptance and hope of the last few moments, she wasn’t sure what to feel now?

  “A pardon?” Charlotte whispered. “She’s forgiven me?”

  “There are a few details remaining, but aye. Do ye ken what this means, Char?”

  When he tipped her chin upward, their lips were only inches away. Her gaze landed on his lips, full and perfect, and even now pulled into a teasing grin. Liam loved her. He wouldn’t grin, wouldn’t tease, if there was anything less than what they’d planned so long ago…

  “A future,” she breathed.

  “Aye,” he agreed, with a solemn nod. “I’ll be marrying nae one other than ye, Charlotte MacLeod.”