She looked at her sister again, the fear returning. “You shouldn’t have come, Janet. Duncan will be furious that you have put yourself in danger.” She almost hesitated to ask. “How did you manage to travel all the way from Castle Tioram to here without his help?”
Janet’s mouth quirked. “I found a more sympathetic set of ears.”
Their eyes met. It wasn’t hard to guess who she meant. “Lady Christina?”
Their brother Duncan was married to Christina MacRuairi, known as the Lady of the Isles, the only legitimate heir to the Lordship of Garmoran. A powerful force in her own right, Christina wouldn’t hesitate to defy their formidable brother if she believed in the cause.
Janet nodded. “It was her idea to dress like this. She provided the men andbirlinn.” Of course, Mary realized. Only Lady Christina’s Islanders would have the seafaring skill to slip right under the nose of the English fleet. “We came ashore just north of Newcastle-upon-Tyne. From there I purchased a horse. Twelve pounds for an obstinate nag that must be older than me and isn’t worth half that! The man will surely go to hell for taking advantage of a nun.”
Janet was so outraged, Mary decided not to point out she wasn’t actually a nun.
“It took me a few hours longer than it should have, but I made it. I passed right by a party of English soldiers and not one of them gave me a second glance.”
Mary was glad she was sitting down. Only her sister would talk about sailing hundreds of miles around Scotland through treacherous waters right through the heart of the English fleet, riding ten miles through war-ravaged countryside, and then confronting the enemy as if it were nothing. “Please do not tell me that you rode here alone?”
Janet looked at her as if she were daft. “Of course not. I had Cailin with me.”
Mary groaned. Cailin was sixty years old if he was a day. Her father’s former stablemaster had been married to their nursemaid, and Janet had had him wrapped around her little finger since they were two. He would protect them both to the death, but he was no warrior.
Janet smirked. “He wasn’t too happy to have the top of his head shaved, but he makes a fine monk. I sent him to the kitchens to dry out and get something to eat while you gather your and David’s things. We should leave as soon as we can. I brought a gown for you like mine, although I suspect it will be too big.” She wrinkled her nose again at Mary’s appearance. “Jerusalem’s Temples, Mary, you look as pinched and woebegone as a half-starved sparrow.” Trust her sister to not hold her tongue for the sake of vanity. Mary knew she’d lost weight, but she hadn’t realized how much until she saw her sister’s worried expression. “But it will have to do. I just brought a cloak for Davey; he’s a bit young to be a monk.”
Her son was nine, conceived on her wedding night when she was just fourteen and born while her husband was imprisoned in the Tower of London after his first rebellion. She hadn’t seen her husband for nearly two years after they were married. It had been a harbinger of things to come.
She wanted nothing more than to jump at her sister’s offer, and if it were just her, she would. She’d do almost anything to return to Scotland—almost. But she had David’s future to think about. Atholl’s rebellions against Edward had robbed their son of his childhood; she would not let them take his patrimony. Not if there was a chance they could escape this nightmare unscathed.
Mary shook her head, wanting to cry all over again. “I can’t. I want to, but I dare not. If we attempt to leave England, Edward will consider us traitors, and David’s claim to the earldom will be forfeit. Atholl will come for us when he can.”
She had to believe that. Even with all that had happened, she couldn’t believe he would leave them to face this alone.
Janet stilled, her big blue eyes growing round and wide. “You haven’t heard?”
Something in her sister’s voice alerted her; a chill spread over her skin like a thin sheet of ice. “Heard what?”
“Robert has escaped, fleeing to the Isles with the help of our brother and Lady Christina. But the queen’s party was taken in Tain over a week ago. The Earl of Ross violated the sanctuary of St. Duthac’s and had them arrested.” Mary sucked in her breath at the sacrilege. “That is why I came.”
The blood drained from Mary’s face. “And Atholl?” she said numbly, though she knew the answer.
Janet didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. Mary knew her husband would be with the women. He was always with the women. They adored him. He was a hero, after all.
But now it was over. Scotland’s hero earl had been captured. Her heart squeezed. After all the disappointments and all the hurt, she still felt the pangs of the girlish love she’d once borne him. Those feelings had been crushed a long time ago, but the thought of her husband in chains resurrected whatever vestiges of those dreams that remained.
Why, John? Why did it have to end like this?She didn’t know whether she was talking about their marriage or his life. Perhaps both.
“I’m sorry,” Janet said, putting a hand on hers. She had never liked Mary’s husband, but she seemed to understand her feelings. “I thought you knew.”
Mary shook her head. “We are alone here. Sir Adam comes when he can. But he was called to court nearly a week ago—” She stopped, realizing the timing was probably not a coincidence. Had he known?
Nay. Mary shook off the thought. Sir Adam Gordon had done everything he could to protect her and David the past six months, even becoming surety for her son’s release. He was one of Atholl’s closest friends. The two men had fought together for Scotland at Dunbar and Falkirk, and served time together in Edward’s army in Flanders when they lost. Although the two friends had taken opposite sides over the issue of Bruce’s kingship, with Sir Adam loyal to the deposed King John Balliol and siding with their former English allies against Bruce, she knew Sir Adam would do his best to keep them safe.
“We can’t delay,” Janet said. “Christina’s men are waiting for us. We need to be there before dawn.”
Still, Mary hesitated. Atholl’s capture hadn’t changed anything. Or perhaps it made it even more important that they not do anything rash. But waiting to see whether Edward’s wrath would fall on them was a little bit like stepping into a cage with a hungry lion and hoping he didn’t notice you.
What should she do? Mary had little experience making important decisions. First her father, and then her husband, had made them for her. She envied her sister’s independence in a world ruled by men. Janet had been engaged twice, but both betrothals had ended in death.
Janet must have sensed her uncertainty. She took her by the shoulders and forced Mary to look at her. “You can’t stay here, Mary. Edward has lost all reason. There are rumors…”
She stopped as if the words were too painful.
