He snarled. “Simply preparing to go and challenge the pompous fukin’ leech, Sir James.”
The anger in his voice was pure rage. She bolted forward, re-grabbing the linen covering his torso. “Nae!” she countered. “You must leave him be. ’Tis his right as captain of the guard to question all in the king’s domain. We cannot challenge him for such a charge.”
“Cluaran, I will not have him speakin’ your name in the same confines as traitor.”
“MacCade, please,” she pleaded seeing the determination etched on his features same as stone. “You cannot deny ’tis his right to demand those to be watched he thinks may be a traitor toward the crown. He truly believes it. When he was present with the delegation sent by King Alexander in Bjørgvin, I took a grave risk attempting to capture a stolen moment with him.” Aonghus became still at her confession. “I was prepared to tell him of the storm coming to pass – all the fates had revealed – but a mere second in my presence, he denounced me as a traitor to Scotland and spat upon the ground separating us.”
Aonghus’s hands grasped her shoulders with his look becoming furious. “You sought him out, yet he abandoned you there to Lord Kollungr?”
She found sudden interest in a patched crack on the beam behind him. If only she could close the cracks that allowed the troubled memories to seep through her mind, such as the moment she had been left behind by her own countrymen.
“Aye,” she whimpered, then found herself encased within his embrace. “Promise me, my knight” – her fearful whisper brushed against his Adam’s apple – “you will leave him. I do not seek to cause any shadows of doubt in King Alexander’s thoughts regarding me.”
He leaned back while his lips grazed over hers. “If ’tis your wish, I will leave it,” he swore, and their gazes locked to finish: “…for now.”
Chapter 24
Keirah listened to Lady Maise, who stood beside her under the keep’s quiet archway while she awaited her Aonghus’s return from morning sword training with the knights. She had never even gotten a chance to reveal her worries before Lady Maise had charged to find her first thing. The newfound friend’s eyes were wide about the boldness with which Sir Sean had approached with inquisition-type questions at her bedchamber’s door.
Lady Maise took a hand in hers. “Lady Keirah.” Lady Maise sounded more mouse than Scotswoman by the tiny squeak in tone for discretion. “Sir Sean seeks an advantage to tarnish you in King Alexander’s eyes; be watchful. I have not revealed a word about what we have spoken of in our times together.”
So, this was what a friend looked like. Someone whom you trusted and sought advice from and giggled on certain topics only a lady could appreciate. How completely wonderful. Had she ever had this before? No.
“Thank you.” Keirah kept her voice low as the lady in waiting when the Lord Chamberlain strode by. “I will proceed with the utmost care.”
Lady Maise smiled as if she had seen the sun for the first time in months. “Excellent! I am pleased in a way that Sir Sean sought me this mornin’, as I announced my full attention would be declared for Sir Brayden.” Lady Maise giggled. “A more dashing possible betrothal for me there will never be found. A missive shall be sent at once to my sire before I return to Edinburgh upon the morrow to the queen consort’s side. Sir Brayden is the first to look upon me forme, not my station with the queen consort in means toward gaining favors. Only me.” Lady Maise became stern in a blink and paused while meeting her expression. “Do you know what I refer to, Lady Keirah?”
She declared silently,Every time MacCade looks at me, he steals my breath, heart, and soul, in the most delicious way, till all I wish is to grab hold and never let him leave.“Aye, a wee bit.”
Before Lady Maise could reply, a squatty and stained-toothed knight fresh to the keep grinned at them in greeting. “Good morrow, Lady Maise. Sir Brayden has sent me to summon you for a moment. Forthwith, he is awaiting your presence in the gardens.” He turned toward Keirah. “Sir Aonghus will be returning in haste after training with the knights. He sought to have me remain by your side and see you unto his presence in the stables where they are all about to gather.”
Lady Maise turned, flushed, then whispered, the words strung together with a fevered anticipation: “’Tis the moment, Lady Keirah! I will make my sentiments known to Sir Brayden.” With a whoosh from wimple’s veil, she vanished. Lady Maise’s joy was infectious; a smile took Keirah’s lips as she followed the knight toward the stables.
Stepping into the stables, her smile faded. What else was it about this messenger which bothered her right at the start? It was more than simply that he was a knight she did not know– there were many who fell into this category, particularly with new knights arriving each day to defend the kingdom.
Her breath gasped, but before a scream could leave her lips, a pair of hands stole her from behind.Raging hell!The taste of grit covered her lips at the captor, who forced his palm over her mouth and gruffly shoved her backside up against his full front. If panic could claw her heart like a wildcat, it happened when four more warriors emerged from the shadows in the very hiding spot she and Aonghus had made use of the night before.
The lead Scotsman’s face looked perhaps two score in age, but who did he remind her of? His nose pressed up slightly like a boar, same as…no! He had to be…Sturan’s brother, either Seumas or Sorley. He edged his way down the aisle as if he were an executioner taking a traitor to the gallows – her.
Neigh! Even the horses sensed the tension as they began to thrash and paw and kick against the boards lining their pens.
“You saw my brother unto the dungeons, torture, and death’s door, Lady Keirah.” He spewed the words at her. “Sturan called me rash, ordered me to stay away if he were ever taken. Ack! I would not dare to take another path till seeking a balance upon the scales set in blood. Nae one slays my brother then lives,” the executioner said, growing closer revealing stained teeth and soul. “You may speak, but if you scream, I promise you will not care for the consequence.” The one who held her lowered his filth-laden palm.
“Your brother helped murder nine of our countrymen whom he swore sanctuary to if they surrendered their weapons at Rothesay Castle. I believe ’twas the gates belonging to hell and not death’s door which greeted him,” she declared – there went her rage getting the best of her.
A crash echoed the walls. Hell! Had she laid a beehive against her cheek? Blinking the blurry stars from her eyes, she saw the executioner’s palm had struck her jaw. “You are sharp in words, Lady Keirah; I will see to that tongue once your knight seeks to join us,” the traitor’s kin promised. “Summon him, in a steady tone, now.”
After the tears cleared, she growled, “You believe one slap will force me to your whim?YearsI was under the torment from Northmen who would geld a Scot such as yourself. You are a geldin’ who does not even offer his name.” She spat blood into his face.Take that!
He raised his palm again. She stiffened inwardly, cursing the one who held her so tight she could scarcely breathe, much less retrieve the two daggers, because her wrists were pinned onto her waist’s front.
The foul breath blew her face alongside the threatening words while he held his palm at the ready. “You prefer I retrieve Lady Maise to join the proceedings? I may fetch her searching the gardens alone for Sir Brayden, who is not there. Or will your tongue succumb to my bidding? The choice is yours, Lady Keirah.”
His vow cut her more than the dagger could which he raised in his palm at her throat. Five against her knight. The odds were dire, but Aonghus would be armed. Maise was delicate; the choice was obvious by the cauldron of terror which burned in her stomach. And where was her shadow-glance?!
She took as deep a breath as the confines allowed. “MacCade,” she called clear into the air mixed with sunshine beyond the archway, which only offered a view of the curtain wall.
Silence met her summons.
