“I confess there are some gaps in my knowledge,” she said. “Ye used a number of curses I’d never heard before that I’d like ye to teach me.”
“Hmmph.” He held out his bowl for her to serve him a slice of the hare. “How did ye come to learn Gaelic?”
“Our last king learned it to help him win the hearts of you Highlanders,” she said as she sat down beside him. “Naturally, my grandfather thought it wise that we Douglas lasses learn it as well.”
“Why?” Rory asked around a mouthful of rabbit. It was only slightly burned this time, and he was hungry after another long day of travel, so it tasted delicious.
“To impress the king.” Sybil gave him a conspiratorial wink. “Grandfather had high hopes that one of us would bear a royal bastard.”
Rory choked on his food. The notion of Sybil’s innocence being used as bait for the king incensed him. “Did your father and mother not object to this?”
“Grandfather was chieftain for fifty years, and his orders were followed.” Sybil shrugged. “Besides, the other noble families did the same with their daughters.”
Rory was aware that many a Highland family was pleased when a daughter bore a chieftain’s child, but somehow that seemed different to him.
“My mother was deeply unhappy about it,” Sybil continued, “because her sister had an affair with the king when they were young, and it ended badly.”
“How badly?”
“She was murdered,” Sybil said.
“Murdered?” He nearly choked again.
“Powerful nobles in both the pro-French faction and the pro-English faction feared the young, lovesick king would marry my aunt instead of making a foreign alliance,” she said. “We never found out which side did it.”
“O shluagh,” Rory said, calling on the faeries for help.“After your aunt was murdered, your family was willing to put you in the same position?”
“There was no risk of the king wedding one of us, as he was already married by then to Margaret Tudor,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone and licked her fingers. “However, our blood tie to the king’s first love was viewed as a great advantage in the competition to become his mistress.”
“Luckily ye weren’t old enough to be anyone’s mistress before the king died.”
“My grandfather thought I was old enough,” she said. “But the Douglas’s hopes were really on Margaret. She’s the one with fair hair like our aunt’s.”
Jesu.
“Though we failed to entice the king,” Sybil said, “the queen knew about my grandfather’s plan. She holds it against me and my sisters.”
“The queen was jealous, even after the king was dead and she married your brother?”
“Archie’s infidelity only made it worse.” Sybil took Rory’s bowl from him and washed it as she discussed the queen of Scotland. “I’d wager she’s persuaded herself that all of us slept with the king.”
She faced other dangers with him, but at least she was safe from the queen.
Night had fallen while they ate their supper, and he was anxious to take his bride to bed. Sybil looked lovely in the glow of the firelight, and it seemed an awfully long time since they had made love that morning…
“I want to help ye fight your uncle Hector,” she said, fixing him with a dead-serious look.
“Now that ye carry a dirk,” he said, “you’re ready to learn to swing a sword for my cause?”
She rolled her eyes. “Not that kind of help.”
He twisted a strand of her curling black hair around his finger. “What is it ye want to do for me?”
Their gazes locked and heat sizzled between them, but then she got that determined expression on her face again. It was a very fetching look.
“For better or for ill, I’ve lived my entire life around men vying for power,” she said. “Tell me about Hector, both his good and bad qualities.”
At the mention of his uncle, Rory’s mood turned dark. He tossed another stick onto the fire and watched it burn.
