“Duncan! Surely he would never try to harm me! He is my brother!”
“He is your half brother, whom you have only just met, and he loves only himself and his ambition, Mary.”
“Perhaps he has ambition, but that does not mean he would harm me!” The very idea was ludicrous, frightening.
“His ambition is to rule Scotland, to be her king.”
“No! He could not seek to depose my father!”
“He is not such a fool. He hopes to succeed your father. Why else has he remained at Court here for all these years, serving Rufus like some heathen slave? And he is Rufus’s choice.”
Mary stared. Finally she shook her head, unable to decide how much to say to this man, her future husband. Aware that even now, so soon after her discovery of her own true feelings, and perhaps even his, politics threatened them. “No. Edward shall be Scotland’s next King. Father has decided, and it must be that way.”
Stephen regarded her. “And Malcolm can do no wrong?”
Mary jerked. “Let us not discuss Malcolm,” she finally said sharply.
“Why not, Mary? Is he always right?” Suddenly Stephen’s tone had changed, suddenly he was angry.
Mary’s heart beat too hard; she shook her head, refusing to answer. Unable to answer.
Stephen stood abruptly. “We cannot take any more chances, Mary. Therefore you will remain here at Graystone for the next few days, where you will be safe, until our wedding.”
“For the next few days? But our wedding is not for another three weeks!”
“No,” Stephen said, leaning over her. “Our wedding date has been changed.”
“Changed?”
“The King has agreed. It is most unwise to delay now, in the light of all that has happened. As soon as you are capable of making your vows, we shall be wed.”
Mary was wide-eyed. Her heart turned over in real pleasure. She could not help smiling. In a few days they would be wed—in a few days she would be his wife!
It was not until Stephen had left that she realized that his own response had been far different from hers. He had not been smiling when he told her the unexpected news. In truth, he had been grim and uneasy, as if he expected disaster to strike in the very near future.
“As soon as she can make her vows!”
“That’s correct, dear brother, as soon as Princess Mary is well enough to stand for the mass and make her vows, they shall be wed.” Rufus smiled, not pleasantly. “Is there a reason such haste should upset you, Henry?”
Prince Henry was furious. “You know I am against this union; I have said so from the first. I keep hoping you will see reason, and forbid them to join.”
“Why do you think I agreed to the union in the first place?”
“I cannot even begin to fathom why.”
“So that Malcolm will be at rest when our armies swoop down upon him.” Rufus grinned. “It has occurred to me that he will be even more unsuspectingafterthe wedding.”
“You have outdone yourself, brother,” Henry said softly, angrily. “What will you do, my lord, if ever the day comes that Northumberland turns to Scotland—against you?”
“That day will never come.”
“You are mad! For the sake of some worthless hills you give de Warenne enough power to make or break you!” Henry paced the King’s apartment. It was at times like these that he knew—he absolutely knew—that he should be England’s monarch. Never would he give a single noble such power. Never would he trust one of his vassals with such power. Given his brother’s stupidity, he could not help being sorry that Mary had not drowned. “Who tried to kill her?”
“I do not know. Was it you, Henry?” Rufus asked blandly.
Henry’s face reddened with the rush of blood that his renewed fury brought. “If I had been behind the murder attempt, you can be sure she would not be alive this day!”
Rufus stood, walked to the window, and looked out upon London. “I believe you.”
