Beloved Warrior (28 page)

“Sleep well, Juliana,” he said, almost tonelessly. But just as she turned, he touched her cheek. So lightly she barely felt it. It was more like a whisper of a breeze.

Then he turned and disappeared down the stone steps.

 
HE hadn’t wanted to leave her that way, but he had matters to discuss with Jamie Campbell, and he wanted his senses intact. Juliana had a way of distracting them.

He went through the great hall. The Moors were gathered in one corner, the Spaniards in another. All were listening to a Maclean playing the lute. Denny was nowhere to be seen.

Then he reached the office in the back of the hall. Rory and the Campbell were sitting there, a small cask of wine on a table. They were both drinking from silver cups, a legacy from former Macleans. Patrick remembered them. His father used them only for special occasions.

“There is a third cup there,” Rory said. “Join us.”

“Let us go up to up to my chamber,” he said. “We will have more privacy there.

Rory nodded and he and the Campbell rose. Rory carried the cask of wine.

Once in his chamber, silence settled in the room. Patrick glanced at the Campbell, who looked the portrait of an indolent lord.

“How did you come to help my brothers?” he asked.

“My cousin,” Jamie Campbell replied. “Like your Juliana, Felicia was to be wed to a man I did not trust nor like. It was decreed by the king, who wanted an alliance between the two clans. She tried to escape but my cousin does nothing the easy way. She was kidnapped by the Macleans as a wife for Rory and, well, she refused to return home. The only way to save Felicia was to prove her prospective husband a rogue and traitor. Rory had information, and I had ways to reach the king. We had a common objective.”

Patrick waited for him to continue.

“We learned to tolerate each other,” Jamie said with a grin. “It became something of a tangle, particularly since Felicia did not stop interfering.”

“Without Jamie,” Rory took over, “Felicia would have wed a traitor, and probably Lachlan and I would be dead. When, three years later, the king called for troops to go into England, both Lachlan and Jamie went. Lachlan disappeared, and Jamie would not leave England without him.”

“I was bored,” Jamie said, obviously ill at ease with the recount.

But Patrick would have been blind and deaf not to see the affection between the two men. For a moment, he felt a pang of loss, even of jealousy, for never having had that kind of bond with his brothers. Or with anyone else, for that matter.

He looked at Rory.

His brother nodded.

“You may be at risk,” Patrick warned. “Your Campbells as well.”

“I will not endanger them,” Jamie said, “but neither will I ever reveal anything I hear tonight.”

It was still difficult to accept this change in the world Patrick had lived with all these years. A truce between Campbells and Macleans was something beyond his ken. Yet he was beginning to trust his brother, and his brother trusted the Campbell, and there was no doubt Patrick needed help. Not only for himself but for the others involved.

He also had little choice. He needed to ensure the Campbell’s silence. Jamie Campbell had seen too much. Patrick took a swallow of wine. Then he told the entire tale.

At the end, silence filled the room. Even Rory was still.

Jamie Campbell stood and walked around the room. “I will do what I can,” he said. “I will make sure every Campbell who saw the ship is convinced it is one of yours. The mist fogged their vision; or drink, which is more likely.” He flashed that quick smile Patrick had seen when they met in the courtyard.

Patrick did not smile back.

“I agree with Rory,” Jamie said. “You should go to court with all the pride of a Maclean and make your claim. Anything else will prompt questions.”

Patrick conceded and nodded. It was too late now to disappear immediately.

“What about your lovely captive?”

“That is none of your concern.”

“That means you do not know what to do,” Jamie said. “You Macleans have interesting ways of finding brides. I do not know why the Maclean brothers cannot model themselves after me.”

“She is not my bride,” Patrick said stiffly.

“I was watching her at the table. She is in love with you, Patrick. It seems you can solve that particular problem by marriage.”

“At the moment, my future is in question,” Patrick said. “Even if she wished it, which I question, I would not wed if I thought I could be charged with piracy or worse.” He regarded his cup sorrowfully. It was nearly empty. “And if I did wed, questions would be asked about my new bride.”

“Felicia is very good at making up stories,” Jamie said helpfully.

Rory grimaced. “So is Kimbra, although she has more scruples about it than my wife.”

Patrick frowned at him. He did not understand how they could be so casual.

To his surprise, it was Jamie who understood. “Only a fool would not see how you two look at each other, even when you try to avoid each other.”

Patrick shrugged. “I would be doing her no favors. I killed her uncle as well as several other men in front of her. She could never forget that.” He paused, then added, “She has family in Spain. A mother she fears for. If we wed, she could never go back. She would have to forget who she is.”

He stopped. It was madness to discuss it. To even consider it.

Jamie raised an eyebrow, and Patrick realized he
was
considering it, God help him.

“What about the other oarsmen?” Jamie asked. “What do you plan to do with them?”

Rory broke in. “We are taking them to Morocco, or if they prefer, to the coast of Spain, with enough money for them to start anew. They all know their necks are at risk as well as mine.”

“That often does not matter when a man has had a drink or two,” Jamie said.

“That is exactly why I cannot wed.”

Rory interrupted. “How would Queen Margaret react if she learned of it?”

“It depends on the reaction of the English,” Jamie said.

“The lady is promised to an English lord,” Patrick informed him.

“Who?” Jamie asked.

“Viscount Kingsley, the son of the Earl of Chadwick.”

Jamie stilled. “You just complicated matters. Kingsley is one of England’s emissaries to Margaret.”

PATRICK’S chest moved on a quickly withdrawn breath.

“The son of the Earl of Chadwick is Viscount Kingsley? He is at Edinburgh?” Rory asked.

“Aye. For the past month. An unpleasant fellow,” Jamie replied.

“You have met him?”

“Aye. He is said to be a friend of the Earl of Angus, who currently has Queen Margaret’s ear.”

“Angus?” Patrick said with a snort of contempt.

“You might be thinking of the old Angus,” Jamie said. “He died last year. The new earl is my cousin, but nae a friend. Margaret is guardian of James V, and Angus believes the way to become regent is to marry her.”

“I see intrigue continues,” Patrick said wryly.

“Aye. A battle wages between Angus, who leans toward England, and the Earl of Arran, who leans toward France.”

Patrick considered what Jamie Campbell had said. When he’d left Inverleith years ago, James IV had been in control of Scotland, at least as much as Scotland could ever be ruled. He’d been a good king for Scotland. Fair, although he’d had his confrontations with the Highland chiefs as well as those in the Isles. He’d held many parliaments and had brought a rare unity to Scotland.

Now apparently it could be ripped apart again, especially with a child king who had as a guardian a young woman who was sister to the English king.

Jamie continued, “The opposition to Angus and his ambitions is led by the Earl of Arran, who wants to name John, Duke of Albany, as regent.”

Rory interrupted then. “Arran has spent his life in France but he is cousin to the young king and would preserve the ‘aulde alliance’ with France.”

Patrick thought how much he had missed in the past eight years. Even before that, though, he’d not been at court. Politics had not interested him, and Jamie’s father had been an advisor to James IV. That meant the Macleans had not been welcome there, and he’d had no interest in the intrigues.

Now he had to learn as much about the court—and Kingsley—as possible.

“Tell me more about the viscount,” Patrick asked.

“I can just tell you the rumors. His father had been an advisor to Henry VII but retired to the country when Henry VIII was crowned. The son is trying to regain the privileged position and volunteered to act as emissary to the Scottish court. Apparently he was the younger son until his brother, the heir, died. Now he is more than making up for his change in fortune. He is as arrogant a man as I’ve seen.” Jamie’s face suddenly changed, and his mouth creased into a frown. “He was boasting about a marriage that would put him at the side of the king, just as his father had been.”

A chill ran through Patrick.

Jamie’s gaze caught his and held. “He is a bully, Patrick. Mayhap worse than that. I saw him beat a horse nearly to death because he lost a race. He will not be happy to see his plans foiled, especially foiled by a Scot.’Tis obvious he has contempt for us.”

The chill deepened. What if he had not taken over the ship? He would never have known about Juliana and she would be readying herself for marriage with Kingsley.

“I want to know everything there is to know about him,” Patrick said. “About his reputation in London, his relationship with the Mendozas.”

“Lachlan can find that out,” Rory said. “Lachlan can mimic any accent, impersonate anyone. And he has friends among the English borderers, the biggest assortment of thieves and murderers in either country.”

“I cannot ask him to do that. It would be dangerous, especially since he was at Flodden,” Patrick said.

“He will want to do it,” Rory said quietly.

“Why?”

“We are brothers,” Rory said simply. “I would do it, except Lachlan would be far more effective.”

“Are you accustomed to volunteering him?”

Rory’s face paled. A muscle throbbed in his cheek.

Puzzled, Patrick could only stare at him. He had not meant anything by the remark.’Twas only an attempt at lightness.

Jamie’s expression was fixed. No sign of the amusement usually there.

“I did not mean to . . . imply . . .”

“Nay,” Rory said softly. “You did not know. Lachlan offered to take my place when King James marched south. I agreed because Felicia had just had another child and Lachlan had such guilt about father that he felt compelled to go. I feared he was dead for a long time, and I faulted myself.” A ghost of a smile returned. “I was afraid I’d lost two brothers.”

“You would risk him again?”

“Lachlan is uncommonly inventive. I do not know what you’ve heard about his capture, but a chess game with his English captor saved him. More than several times.” He grinned. “He is far more adept at ferreting out secrets than I am.”

“If Kingsley is close to Margaret, then you are risking your lives if she believes you are protecting me. I cannot let you do that.”

“I still have some influence,” Jamie said, “as does Rory. He and Felicia were married at court with the late king and Margaret as witnesses. I think Margaret has always had a soft place in her heart for him.”

“Mayhap I should go with the
Felicia.
I will have been lost at sea with the others.” The thought was like a sword in his gut. He had found a family, he was sure of it now. They were all willing to sacrifice for him. The loneliness of all those years was gradually dissolving.

“It’s no good now. Too many Macleans know you are here,” Rory replied.

“What about Kimbra?” Patrick asked. “How will she feel about sending her husband into danger again?”

“I think Kimbra will understand,” his brother said.

“But I do not,” Patrick said.“I cannot let you two risk everything. Not for me,” Patrick said through a lump in his throat. He was not accustomed to the emotion flowing through him, nor did he know how to direct it. Anger had been there, and he’d learned to harness that, but this . . .

“It is not only for you,” Rory said. “It angers me that Spain believes it can enslave our people without consequences. It is also for Juliana. I would not like her in the hands of Viscount Kingsley.”

“We would be risking the entire clan,” Patrick replied. “Possibly two clans if Jamie’s part is known. The Earl of Angus would be only too eager to take us both down.”

A noise came from outside the chamber door.

The three looked at each other, then Rory strode over to it, opened it and looked around. He shook his head. “No one.”

Patrick stood. “We should have locked the door.”

“No one comes up here but a few servants, and they are totally loyal,” Rory said.

Patrick nodded, but he did not have the surety that his brother did.

“It is time to retire,” he said. “We can discuss it more tomorrow,” he said.

 
“THE map!” Juliana exclaimed. In the aftermath of Patrick’s lovemaking, Juliana had forgotten all about the map she’d been trying to find. The map that she hoped would spark some response in Denny.

“The map, Senorita Juliana?” Carmita asked as she paused in brushing her mistress’s hair. She had already helped Juliana undress after the evening meal.

“I had meant to get a map of England from Rory Maclean to show to Denny. Perhaps he would recognize something. I was . . . distracted.”

Carmita did not reply for a moment. Of course she knew what had happened there. The bedclothing was stained. It was all Juliana could do to keep her gaze from staring at the bed and to keep her cheeks from blushing.

“They say the ship is coming any day now,” Carmita said, looking away. “Manuel says it might be here tomorrow.”