“This is unexpected,” Graham said. “Not only in the request itself, but in the manner in which it is addressed.”
“I would expect no less than a demand from that arrogant bastard,” Angus said. He was so tired of the man’s aggression and so-called right to claim what was not his.
“I do not think it is a demand, Angus,” Graham said.
“How can you say that? ‘…request your presence at Linlithgow Palace as soon as you are fit for travel, to discuss matters of great importance to us both…’ The man wants retaliation for my actions, and I will not allow my father to pay for them.”
“Angus, we will both go, and we will take the usual precautions. Graham, convene the war council. I think there is more to this message than on the surface, however I will take no chances where the Stewart is concerned.”
The transformation in his father was immediate and profound—from a frail man, ready to spend the next few months in a monastery, to the warrior lord Angus had always known.
Nothing about this felt right. Why not attack? The king could have his army at Finlaggan in a sennight. No, the man played the way he always did, with schemes and half-truths.
An hour later, they sat with the Balloch men in the council chamber on Eilean Comhairle.
“’Tis a trap and you know it, Alexander! How can you even think about giving that man one more moment of your time?” Iain said. “I have known you all my life and, except for the business with Sutherland, have never opposed you. But I do so now again. This is a huge mistake.”
“Your counsel is welcome as always, my friend,” Alexander said. “I have spent many days and nights in the last months hoping for the opportunity to atone for those crimes. The man who committed them no longer exists. The one who remains will allow the king his say, and my son will have the advantage of hearing both sides with his own ears instead of having to fill the half-written parchment with his own assumptions.”
“Are you saying I have acted inappropriately?” Angus asked. He had had no choice but to plot his father’s escape from prison. Apparently he had not been quick enough or clever enough to do so, considering the task had fallen to an evil schemer who was still at large and would need to be dealt with in due course.
“You acted with honour and courage, Angus, as you always have. It is I who have failed you. Instead of listening to you and others here around this table, I allowed my rage to cloud my judgement. In the end, I may have done more harm to our people than good.”
“Surely you do not mean that you will accept the Stewart’s terms?” Angus said. He could hardly believe his ears. There was no way he would bend to a man who would rather build a lavish palace with the coin collected on the backs of hard-working Highlanders than pay his ransom. The man’s release from 18 years in England had come at a price of forty-thousand merks. Twenty Highland lords had been sent to England as surety and now, seven years later, not a single coin had been sent to honour that agreement. Those twenty noblemen would never return, by Angus’s account.
“I will not give up what has taken us centuries to build, no,” said his father. “But together, you and I will listen to what he has to offer and, if he is genuinely interested, perhaps we can enter into negotiations for our collective benefit.”
Angus did not know what to say. He would have been prepared to go to his grave before negotiating with a man such as James Stewart. His father spoke of noble actions, but the turnaround was too quick. Angus needed time to swallow the prospect of recognizing Stewart as his king. For all intents and purposes, the man he called Father was a king in his own right. He had earned the position and respect of the people he had sworn to protect.
A knock sounded at the door and a servant entered. “An urgent message for you, m’lord.”
His father took the message and rubbed his thumb over the wax seal. When the servant left, his father cracked the seal and slowly opened the message.
“What now?” Angus asked.
His father smiled and then frowned. He looked at Angus with sadness in his eyes.
Angus took the letter and read.
Lord of the Isles, Alexander MacDonald:
It is with great honour I extend an invitation to you and your family to attend the marriage ceremony of my cousin, Lady Annabella Beaufort of London, England, to William Douglas of the Douglas of Perthshire. We would be honoured to receive you in a sennight, and request you join us at Linlithgow Palace as our particular guests.
Joan Beaufort, Queen Consort of Scotland
His breath caught in his throat. He could almost accept her returning to England and wedding to a frilly gentleman there. But to remain here in Scotland and marrythatlowlander! Angus would not be able to witness it. She belonged in the Highlands—with him!
The letter was passed around the table, and one by one all eyes fell to Angus.
“I believe now we know why we were summoned by the king,” Graham said. “But why two letters? Why did the king not send the wedding invitation himself?”
Angus was not sure, but something niggled at his conscience. “Lady Annabella had been prepared to aid us in locating my father.”
“How did she propose to do that?” his father asked.
“She assured us she would be discrete and would get messages to us in any way possible. Perhaps the second letter has one hidden in there, somehow.” He did not know why, but something told him that there was more to the invitation than first met the eye. He recalled the letter he had allowed her to send to her cousin, which contained a coded message. Perhaps she was now sending one to him in return.
The thought gave him cause to be concerned for her safety.
