She was tired of this charade. Meg was out of her element at court, and she knew it. Jamie Campbell was the most logical choice for a husband.
There was only one decision she could make.
Chapter 5
Alex left the hall unaccountably edgy, if not down right angry. And the worst part was that he didn’t know why.
After slipping outside the palace gates, he started down Vai Regius, the Way of the King—a cobble-paved road recently constructed by King James that stretched between Holyrood and Edinburgh Castle. Although he’d made no effort to hide his departure, he was careful to make sure he wasn’t followed. Most people seemed to have accepted his story about being a merce nary looking for work, but Highlanders were always viewed with suspicion. He’d take no chances.
Alex was late. He was supposed to be meeting his squire, Robbie, at the White Hart Inn to report what he’d learned so far, but he’d been delayed. Delayed by a wee enchantress with big green eyes. Instead of observing the king’s men to gather more information, he’d found himself watching Meg’s conversation with Jamie Campbell with increasing frustration. He’d seen some thing in her eyes….
He suspected she’d made her choice.
But, he reminded himself, it didn’t concern him. Alex had made his own choice a long time ago, and it didn’t involve taking a wife. His future was uncertain at best and short at worst.
He’d been tempted to go to her after his awkward compliment on the dance floor. She’d misunderstood, but he realized that he’d hit on a vulnerability when he’d made an unwitting comparison with her mother. Rosalind Mackinnon was undeniably a beautiful woman, but so was her daughter. Everything about her was…endearing. Irresistible softness to a man who’d known only hardship for so long. Didn’t Meg realize how lovely she was?No.It suddenly occurred to him that she almost seemed to go out of her way not to emphasize her beauty, hiding herself beneath ill-fitting clothes and unflattering hairstyles. Even he had almost missed it.
The flash of hurt in her eyes had unsettled him deeply.Hell,he thought with frustration.Sheunsettled him. Meg was the first woman in four years to make him think about anything other than revenge, justice, and atonement.
He’d do his best to steer clear of her.
As he neared the city, the pungent stench of excrement burned the back of his throat. The vile cesspool of intrigue and corruption that permeated court seemed to have spilled onto the streets. Literally. And they think we are barbarians, he thought with disgust. At least Highlanders don’t toss waste out their windows to run in open sewers with merely a warning shout of “Gardyloo!”
The smell was revolting, and on a warm night like tonight, unbearable. Even to a man who was used to the primitive conditions afforded the life of an outlaw, the filth of Edinburgh was nearly inconceivable.
He used the edge of his cloak to smother the stench. The faint scent of lavender still clung to the wool, courtesy of his brother’s wife, Isabel, he supposed. Upon his arrival at Dunvegan, she’d threatened to toss most of his clothing into the fire, relenting only after he’d agreed to allow her to see to its washing.
The sweet reminder from home made him even more anxious to leave this woe-begotten place. Court was a necessary but unwelcome stop to gather information before he set course for the Isle of Lewis. If the rumor of a second attempt by the Fife Adventurers to colonize Lewis proved correct, Alex would ferret out whatever information he could to help his kin, the MacLeods of Lewis, thwart the incursion. But Lewis was where the real battle would be fought…and won.
If he could leave for Lewis right now, he would.
One step at a time,he reminded himself. But damn, he was eager to begin. Preventing the king from claiming Lewis would be a resounding victory for the Island chiefs, but in helping his kin, the MacLeods of Lewis, Alex would finally have the chance to right a wrong that had shadowed him for five long years.
He knew he trod a treacherous path. If he were caught, here or later on Lewis, his actions could well be construed as treason.
But it was worth the risk.
Because of that risk, his brother had tried to stop him, but eventually Alex had persuaded Rory that no one else would suffice. Alex had both position and familiarity with court, as well as access to Jamie Campbell and other important political leaders. And as for his ability to lead the battle on Lewis, it had taken two hours on the lists with Rory—ending only with Isabel threatening to separate them by dousing them both with cold water—to convince his brother of Alex’s readiness.
Initially, Rory had wanted to lead the rebellion himself, but there could be no question of that. Rory’s first duty, as chief, was to his clan. He had to placate the king, at least nominally.
Alex didn’t.
He’d never envied Rory his role as chief. Unlike his brother, Alex was free to follow his conscience and his own sense of justice. He’d done precisely that for the last three years. Not long after leaving Dunvegan, Alex had joined with a handful of dispossessed warriors who used to go by the name MacGregor. King James had turned the MacGregors into outlaws on their own lands—hunted like vermin, persecuted, and jailed without cause. Forbidden on pain of death even to call themselves MacGregor. The injustice and atrocities perpetrated by the king sickened him, and it wasn’t long before Alex had become the leader of the proscribed men. Fighting his way across the Highlands, he’d found a modicum of peace.
The ten o’clock drum sounded. He quickened his pace through Lawnmarket, keeping to the main streets and avoiding the maze of narrow wynds and closes that permeated the city. After turning left on West Bow, he wound down the steep hill into Grassmarket. A thriving marketplace, Grassmarket also had the dubious distinction of being the place where public executions were held. Not an area of town frequented by courtiers. Alex was hoping to minimize the possibility of seeing someone from the palace.
Having reached his destination, he opened the door of the White Hart Inn and had to duck his head to pass through the doorway. Musty air and the scent of un-washed bodies accosted him. The main room was small and poorly lit, holding perhaps a score of patrons who were scattered about at small tables; a few stood near the bar area, where a “luckie” alewife stood ready to dispense her brew. He ordered a tankard of grozet from a serving maid and passed through to another chamber, this one slightly smaller than the first. Low ceilings continued, and Alex repeatedly had to stoop beneath the wooden beams as he crossed the room.
Screens of brown paper separated the tables, offering a semblance of privacy. After quickly locating Robbie, Alex slid in opposite him on a wooden bench, facing the door. He was pleased to see that the lad had followed his direction and secured a table in the back corner of the room, minimizing the potential for prying ears.
His squire looked relieved to see him.
Amused by Robbie’s obvious concern for his welfare, Alex said, “So eager to see me, lad? Apparently, I’ve been negligent in my duty. I’ll have to see that your training is stepped up when I’m done here.”
Robbie blanched, then ventured a tentative grin when he realized that Alex was only teasing. He cranked his head around a few times and whispered, “I don’t much like this place.” He wrinkled his nose. “The entire city smells something horrible.”
Neither do I.But it would do no good to mollycoddle the boy; they had a job to do. So instead Alex asked, “Any problems?”
