“Assuming I can find someone. I had a bluidy hard time with Lady Munro, and we’re aware of how that nearly turned out.”
“You intend to send another lamb to the slaughter,” Alex growled.
“Glare all you want, Armstrong.” King Robert’s use of Alex’s surname was a warning, one of the few he would get. “I can ask the lady myself, or you can be honorable and tell me the truth. Is she still a maiden?”
“You believe I would dishonor her, then cast her aside?” Alex avoided answering one question by posing one of his own.
“I believe that’s precisely what you’ve done, whether it was last night or during some other visit. It’s been obvious to the entire court that until this visit, you were courting Lady Caitlyn. You disappear with her overnight. Yet you aren’t asking me for her hand nor are you rushing to send Laird Kennedy a missive asking for a betrothal. So I ask you again: is she still a maiden?”
“That is Lady Caitlyn’s business, and no one else’s.”
“You made it your business—and mine—when you tupped her.”
“I did no such thing.” Alex refused to consider what he shared with Caitlyn as something so trivial as tossing her skirts. He hadn’t tupped her. He’d made love to her, and he held tight to that technicality.
“Mince words all you wish, Armstrong, but your time has come and gone. I have a list of men at court who are interested in Lady Caitlyn.”
“For more dishonorable purposes than that which you accuse me.” Alex’s hands gripped the armrests. He’d placed his left arm there and wrapped his fingers around it, hoping it wouldn’t fall while he sat. Now it was clenched as tightly as his right hand. In the most unwanted ways, Alex was discovering he hadn’t lost as much as he thought that day near Liddesdale.
“If they marry her first…”
“Padraig married Cairren first, and it nearly got her killed. More than once.”
“Caitlyn has more men interested in marriage than Cairren did. She’s lighter, so it’s easier for her.” King Robert shrugged, his comment blasé.
“You just said you would have a hard time marrying her off. Now you have a list of men. Either you are trying to play me for a fool, or you’ll punish Caitlyn for what you believe are my offenses. Either way, you would sentence her to a miserable life.”
“You have tried my patience since you arrived. You were sullen even before the passageway attack. Then you issued me orders. Now you flout my decision. You will not be long for this world if you continue. One day back in the lists doesn’t make you the mon you were. You’ve said as much yourself. Mayhap you’ve been right all along. You’ve survived both attacks, but you bring naught but trouble now. Mayhap Brice is the better choice.”
Alex sat stunned. His mind whirled as he processed what the king said and his own idiocy for arguing with the monarch. He nodded his head, mute.
“What happens to the succession is your father’s problem. But you’ve made it clear you don’t want Lady Caitlyn as your wife. Mayhap swinging your swords last night and this morn are making you think differently.” King Robert sneered. “But I’ve decided.”
“Decided to punish Caitlyn,” Alex whispered.
“What do you want? You’ve made it clear that you are casting her aside. You no longer have a say. Or do you only want her now that you discovered what you can expect in bed with her?”
Alex saw red. He rose from his seat and leaned forward. His posture was so menacing, guards moved away from the walls. “I can’t touch you. But I also can never forgive you. Say what you want aboot me. Malign me, impugn my honor, but never speak that way aboot her again. It will cost you more than you are willing to pay.”
“Are you threatening me?” King Robert’s ruddy complexion blazed red.
“No. I’m promising you.” Alex didn’t wait to be dismissed. He stormed out of the Privy Council chamber with King Robert’s oaths echoing behind him. He was angry at the king for his disparaging comments and callous plan for Caitlyn, but he was just as angry at himself for taking the bait. King Robert wanted him away from court, that much was clear. He’d used the best means he had to make Alex leave: he infuriated Alex to where he had no choice but to depart, lest he face King Robert’s wrath. He wasn’t certain he could leave, though. Not when he didn’t know what might happen to Caitlyn.
He stormed through the passageways and slammed his door shut before flipping the lock. He stalked across his chamber and dug through his saddlebag until he retrieved a full flask of whisky. Throwing himself into the chair before the fire, he used his teeth to pull the plug free. He swallowed most of the contents in one swig. It took a second swallow to empty the flask. Disgusted, he flung it aside and went back to the door.
“More whisky,” Alex demanded to any page or servant who might hear. He didn’t care who arrived with the alcohol, but it appeared on the table beside him. He poured one dram after another into the mug that appeared along with the amber liquid. He didn’t keep count, but he felt himself growing even more intoxicated than he’d been when he came across Caitlyn and hurt her while they argued in the undercroft.
He drank until the room was a slowly swirling blur, and his arm no longer pained him. He felt nothing. Not the headache that had pounded behind his eyes while he argued with the Bruce. Not the throbbing pain in his arm that was worse from overexerting himself two days in a row. Not the dull ache that was always around his right cheek’s scar. Not the desperation he felt for having his life ripped from him only to be forced to watch the king give Caitlyn to another man. He drank until the only thing he had were his morose thoughts.
* * *
Caitlyn glanced over her shoulder, certain someone followed her and the other ladies. She’d hurried to her chamber upon her return to the castle and quickly changed in time to meet the queen for Terce. Her mind had been on everything but the prayer service. She recalled every intimate detail of sharing a bed with Alex, both the good and the bad. She thought about how things stood between them and accepted that as unresolved as it felt to her, there was no other outcome than Alex leaving her behind. She’d spied him in the lists as she followed the queen on her morning constitutional. It shocked her to watch him sparring with his men, but warmth spread through her as she wondered if he was feeling more like himself. She chided herself for not accepting that there was a new Alex, and the old one would never really come back. Even if he felt more confident after defending her and spending time in the Mangerton and Stirling lists, that didn’t mean he felt any differently about marrying her.
As she moved through the passageways with a heavy heart, she thought her initial sense of unease came from hurt and rejection. It wasn’t until she heard a heavy tread on the stairs below her that she was certain they were being followed. She glanced over the rope railing and down the spiral staircase. The men following her and the other ladies weren’t in the royal livery. They were as large as most of the Highlanders she’d met, but none wore plaids nor leines.
The men dressed as Lowlanders. The only Lowlander men she’d met who rivaled their size were Alex and her father. Both were unusually tall and broad, even among warriors. Innes had always teased Alex that he was trying to catch up to his foster father until Alex knocked Innes off his feet for the first time. Innes returned the favor by getting Alex drunk for the first time.
Caitlyn didn’t want to alarm the other ladies, but she silently encouraged them to move faster as she picked up the pace. When they reached the third floor where the queen’s solar lay, Caitlyn glanced back. The men were out of sight, but she sensed they were there. She breathed easier when they reached the queen’s chamber and flowed through the doorway as a group. She spent the next three hours pretending to listen to the other ladies gossip, sing, and read aloud. All the while, she wondered who the men were and whether they followed her or someone else in her group. Her mind railed against the latter. She was positive she was their target.
