“And you swear to me you were not harmed in any way? It would be my pleasure to lay to waste everything that he holds dear.”
Annabella swallowed hard, and tried to mask the horror welling up inside at the thought of any of the wonderful people she had come to care for finding themselves in this man’s path. She must tread very carefully.
“I assure you, I came to no harm in their care. I was given a chamber which was locked and guarded, yes. But I was fed and offered comforts befitting a political prisoner, which is what I was. Now if you do not mind, I would like to break my fast and be on our way. I dearly wish to sit with my cousin and hold the babe in my arms. I fear all of this political business makes my head hurt. I wish only to return to Linlithgow Palace immediately.”
His eyes narrowed for a moment, and then he bowed low. “As the lady wishes. We will leave within the hour. I will have a carriage secured for your comfort—”
“I thank you, but that is not necessary. I much prefer to ride myself, though I would be considerably grateful if you found a mount suitable to my size. It appears all the horseflesh in this land are as large as the men who own them.”
James nodded and left the chamber. A few moments later, just as she was taking a deep breath, her father entered with a gaggle of female servants carrying trenchers of food, tankards of drink, and several gowns for Annabella to choose from.
Within the hour, she had been hand-fed, sponge-bathed, and her hair fashioned into braids that were twisted around her ears then covered with gold threaded mesh. The gown they selected for her was similar to the purple one she loved so much, that had belonged to MacDonald’s sister. This one was much plainer, though, and deep crimson in colour.
When they were finished, her father clasped his hands together then embraced her. “Ahhh, there is my lovely Annabella. You will be the toast of London when you return. I have several suitors lined up to call on you. Once you are satisfied that your cousin is well, we shall journey back home again. I hope to be there within a fortnight.”
Annabella decided to let him prattle on without challenging him on any particular point. She simply did not have the energy. Today would be a long day of travelling and, if lucky, they would only need to rest overnight and be at Linlithgow by the noon meal on the morrow.
Her back would ache by then, but she wanted to see the Scottish countryside again one last time. It was unlikely she would ever venture this far north or west ever again, and wanted to imprint the mountains and glens into her memory for all time. A part of her soul would remain here forever.
* * *
True to his word, Angus’s father insisted on remaining at Finlaggan for a couple of nights before making arrangements to stay at the monastery on Iona. It appeared he was serious in his desire to atone for his past transgressions.
“There is one more thing I wish to discuss with you before I sail,” his father said. “And what is that? That I take a wife?”
His father chuckled. “Aye, that you take a wife. I am an old man, and hope to see my legacy continued through you and your bairns before I leave this world.”
“I am in no hurry to marry, as you very well know. There is much to be done with the planting and plans drawn for two new ships. I shall be too busy this season to worry about a wife.”
His father shook his head. “You already know who it is you will marry, as do I. You just need time to come around to the idea.” His father stepped toward him and placed his hand on his shoulder. “But know this. I support you in all ways, my son. You have made me very proud to be your father. I shall return before the snows, or unless there is news to share,” he said, and winked.
Angus had never known his father to wink or long for bairns about the castle.
The man had certainly undergone a transformation during his imprisonment and, in truth, Angus was not sure what to make of it.
“Safe journey, Father. I do not envy the monks,” he said with a grin.
“You have a message, Alexander,” Graham said from the doorway.
His father’s brows shot up. “Who sent it?”
“You’re not going to believe this, but the seal is that of the Royal Stewarts.”
His father cracked the seal and shook the letter open. As he read, his expression changed from calm and relaxed to concerned. By the time he passed the letter to Angus, he was frowning.
Angus took the letter and tried to process the request, nay, the demand it contained. He then passed it to Graham.
“Surely you do not intend to go?” Angus said.
“I do, and you will join me,” his father said.
“Do you recall the last time the Stewart called you to meet to discuss terms of your fealty to him?”
“Aye, that I do, and it would do us well to always remember what that man is capable of,” his father replied.
Angus recalled every detail of that day. Dozens of Highland chiefs had been called to Inverness to discuss the king’s new laws on authoritative reform, allowing him nearly all the power and they very little. Having survived for centuries with the clan chief holding the power to pass out judgement for crimes committed on his own lands, the chiefs had been naturally outraged at the prospect.
The king, in retaliation, had hanged three of the loudest opposers, and then imprisoned several more, including Angus’s father.
