Prologue
Emelie Dunbar glanced over her shoulder as she closed her chamber door behind her; her sister Blythe’s light snores were trapped within as Emelie scanned either side of the passageway. With no one in sight and nothing stirring, Emelie gathered her skirts in both hands to ensure she made no sound as she picked her way down the corridor. She wound her way through the dark passageways of Stirling Castle, familiar with nearly every nook and cranny after almost seven years in service as a lady-in-waiting to Queen Elizabeth de Burgh.
Emelie shivered as she entered the northern wing of the stone castle. Despite the warm summer air during the day, the nights grew chilly, and the northern castle bricks never insulated the passageways well. She pulled her cloak’s cowl higher around her neck and adjusted her hood, both to keep herself warm and to maintain her disguise. It didn’t take her long to reach the chamber she sought. She rapped softly on the door and counted to ten before pressing down on the handle. The staff kept the door’s hinges well oiled, so they didn’t make a sound as Emelie slipped inside the solar.
It only took a moment for Emelie to spot the ghostly outline standing just beyond the low-burning fire’s glow. She turned the key in the lock behind her and dashed across the chamber, pushing her hood back as she went. Long arms wound around her waist and pulled her in for a passionate embrace, the kiss stealing her breath away.
“Henry,” Emelie murmured.
“I began to fear you’d changed your mind again,” Henry Pringle whispered, the note of censure seeming loud in the quiet chamber. Emelie tensed before easing away from the Clan Pringle heir.
“I didn’t change my mind. I was using an abundance of caution since we’ve come so close to being caught twice already. Until you hear from Father, you know we must be careful.You’vewarned me to be careful,” Emelie reminded him.
“I’ve just missed you so. It’s my impatience. Forgive me, dove?” Henry offered her a repentant smile that made her own lips twitch. The man standing before her was dashing and charismatic. While he wasn’t as tall or broad as the Highlanders many of her friends had married, hewashandsome. Blond, wavy hair fell to his shoulders in a way Emelie always suspected was far from as natural as he meant it to look. Light brown eyes twinkled at her. Always dressed fashionably, Henry had drawn Emelie’s attention the first time she saw him arrive at court nearly six months earlier.
“I missed you, too. This trip seemed particularly long. I wondered if you were ever coming back,” Emelie pouted coyly.
“How could I stay away?” Henry winked. But Emelie’s mind rebelled at the question. It sounded too smug, and they both knew Henry had to return to the royal court, not to see her, but as his father’s delegate. She couldn’t pinpoint why his tone rankled, as though he were giving her a subtle reminder that he would attend court regardless of whether she was there. Sensing her shift in emotions, Henry pulled her in for another passionate kiss. “Come now, dove. I told you I missed you. We haven’t much time. Let me show you just how happy I am to return.”
Without hesitation, Henry’s hands roamed over Emelie’s body, already familiar with each dip and peak. His left hand slid to her breast, cupping and kneading it before his fingers slipped beneath her neckline. His right arm pinned her against him. His lips blazed along her neck until he reached her earlobe, which he nipped. Emelie turned her head toward him, her mouth seeking his. Henry backed her toward the wall and pressed her against it. As Emelie’s fingers tangled in his hair, she felt a breeze around her legs. Moving with more speed than she anticipated, Emelie found her skirts around her waist just as Henry lifted her from her feet as though she were a doll. Their bodies joined before Emelie had a moment to consider what was happening. She glanced down between them as Henry drove into her. She hadn’t felt him untie the laces to his breeks, so she realized Henry had prepared for this well before she entered the chamber.
“Henry,” Emelie hissed.
“I know. It feels so blessedly good.”
“No. Yes. I mean, it does. So good. But we agreed. We shouldn’t have the first time. We can’t. Put me down. This is wrong.” Emelie gripped his shoulders as temptation and sensation threatened to overcome her common sense. Again. She moaned with each surge as she clung to him.
“Do you really wish me to stop, Emelie? Or do you wish to moan and scratch my back like you did the last time?” Henry taunted as he thrust over and over.
“You must pull out,” Emelie insisted, but as she spoke, Henry’s hands gripped her hips as he plunged into her once more and stilled. She felt him twitch within her and knew her request came too late. Or rather, Henry came far too soon. His body collapsed against hers, and he lowered his head to her shoulder as he panted. Unsure of what to do and unable to move, Emelie looked around the room as she stroked the back of his head. She was left unsatisfied—again—and fearful. They’d coupled once before, and while she expected they would do so again many times throughout their marriage, she’d been unprepared to do so again so soon. No priest had even read the banns.
“Emelie, you make me lose control. You feel divine; I can’t help myself,” Henry mumbled before pulling free and lowering her to the floor.
“But we agreed we would wait until you heard from my father, and the banns were at least posted.”
“I had to have you. I couldn’t stop myself,” Henry protested. He appeared so contrite that Emelie forgave him.
“I can’t say that I didn’t want to do the same thing,” Emelie confessed. “I hope Father responds soon, so we can inform the king.”
Henry appeared distracted as he nodded. Emelie’s stomach knotted as she cupped Henry’s jaw. She pressed until he met her gaze. Her stomach cramped painfully. “You have written to my father, haven’t you?”
“I had to rush home so suddenly that I haven’t had the chance. But I will do so now that I’ve returned.”
“But it could be nearly a moon before we have a response. Then another three sennights until a priest can wed us, assuming the king agrees and informs the church immediately.”
“All will be fine, my dove. Worry not.”
“But—”
“Emelie,” Henry barked. “I said not to worry.”
Emelie blinked thrice before nodding her head, surprised at Henry’s tone. She attributed it to his fatigue and whatever caused his unexpected return home. She stretched onto her toes and kissed him. He responded immediately, his tongue diving into her mouth. He moved to pull her skirts up again, but Emelie pushed him away and stepped out of his reach.
“You know I want to. There is so much you’ve promised to teach me. But we can’t be so reckless, my love.” Emelie watched Henry flinch at the endearment. She’d tried it twice before and gotten the same reaction. While Henry promised his adoration and devotion, the speaking of the word “love” always made him withdraw. She reasoned he was a man and not given to saying aloud such a deep emotion.
“I must leave again tomorrow.”
“What?” Emelie spluttered. “You just returned.”
