Betrayed (26 page)

“It would seem, my lady, that for now yer only purpose is to have yer bairn in comfort and safety. It is unlikely that any information of importance will pass into yer hands or hearing once the winter sets in here in the highlands. The bairn will come in the spring, and after that perhaps we will be free to go home,” Nelly said hopefully.

“What do ye two whisper on?” Nairn said, coming upon them.

Fiona laughed. “Roderick Dhu would court my Nelly, and the lass seeks my advice, my lord.”

“And what advice do ye give her, sweeting?”

“She says I am to box his ears and tell him to mind his manners,” Nelly told her master pertly.

Colin MacDonald chuckled.
“Ye
will have him before a priest before the poor man knows what has happened to him,” he teased her. “Now run along and give the poor laddie a kind word while I tuck my sweet wifie into our bed.” Tugging one of her braids playfully, he turned the pretty maidservant about and sent her off giggling.

“Ye'll have her eating out of the palm of yer hand soon, my lord,” Fiona told him, a small smile touching her lips.

He had made her a bed of pine boughs and put a large fur throw over it. When she lay down in her chemise and cloak, he gently laid another fur over her. “I don't want ye catching cold, sweeting, riot in yer condition. And no swims in the lochs, for they're too cold now. Ye'll not die if ye don't have a bath until we get to Nairn.”

“Yes, my lord,” she answered him meekly as he lay
by her side atop the fur robe, wrapped in his own cloak. “Are ye not to join me?”

“Not while we're traveling, Fiona mine. I would not injure ye. When we have a bed to cushion us, then we will dally for a bit until yer belly is too big for comfort's sake.” Turning his back to her, he soon fell into an easy sleep.

She was astounded, and not just a bit guilty. He truly wanted a child. Pray God the bairn was not his father's spit, but she wondered, would Colin MacDonald even see it if it were? It was comforting to know that her child would be safe with this man. Nelly was right. It was unlikely that she would obtain any further information of use to the king in the next few months. Best she settle into her new home and have her child. If The MacDonald would make peace with James Stewart, then all would be well. She would face that future when it came. Until the autumn of the
next year
she did not have to worry. Only when the handfast was past would she face trouble on the horizon.

It took them a bit over two weeks, traveling overland from Islay, to reach Nairns Craig Castle, which was in the vicinity of Inverness. It sat atop a steep, high cliff, and had two rectangular towers and a Great Hall, connected by high, dark stone walls. Its only access was a slender track of roadway up the face of the cliff. A narrow strip of land on the far side of the castle offered a view of high walls with absolutely no outlooks at all, and the forest below.

“It has never been taken,” Colin MacDonald said proudly.

“I can certainly see why, my lord,” Fiona replied dryly.

He pulled his stallion to a stop for a moment. “Ye are about to enter my home,
yer home”
he said to her.
“Ye are my wife, Fiona mine. Do ye not think ye can call me by my name? It is but a small boon, lady.”

“Aye, Colly, I will call ye by yer name in the privacy of our home, but in public I would not dishonor ye by addressing ye as anything but ‘my lord.’ Will that suit ye, Colly?”

He took her hand in his and kissed it. “Aye,” was all he said, but his smile went all the way to his eyes.

She smiled back, cursing James Stewart in her heart as she did so. Did he realize the havoc his passion to rule Scotland was causing? And what of Angus Gordon? What had he thought when told of her disappearance? Did he miss her? Did he truly care, or had that English girl already captured his heart? She breathed deeply, resolutely shaking off her questions and her sadness.

The castle gates were open to receive its lord. Fiona noted the two doors were bound in iron and, looking up, she saw the iron yett ready to be drawn down in the event of danger. Within the court they stopped, and Nairn lifted her from her gelding, gently setting her upon her feet for a moment, then softly kissing her mouth.

“Welcome to Nairns Craig,” he said. Sweeping her up in his arms, he turned to carry her up the steps into the building.

Before he had progressed more than a few steps, however, a woman appeared at the top of the stairs. She was petite, but her look was commanding. “So, Colin MacDonald, ye are back,” she said in cold tones, “and ye have brought yer latest whore with ye, I see. She'll not enter into
my
house. Why do ye not house the wench in the stables with the rest of the animals?” Her arms were crossed over her spare bosom.

Fiona saw a small muscle near Nairn's eye twitch
several times, but for a moment he said nothing. Instead he carried her up the steps, pushing past his antagonist and setting Fiona upon her feet once more within the entrance hall of the castle. When the petite woman whirled about, her mouth opening to protest, Nairn roared, “Don't say another word, madam!
This is my wife.
When did I ever bring my whores into this place or shame ye with lewd public behavior?”

“Yer wife?” The
lady, obviously his mother, Moire Rose, was astounded. “Who is this wench? Where did ye meet her? Where were ye wed? I demand that ye tell me this instant, Colin MacDonald!”

“My wife is Fiona Hay, chieftain of the Hays of the Ben,” he began. “We met at court. We were wed on Islay in my brother's hall. As my wife, Fiona is now the lady of Nairn, madam. Ye will render her the respect due her as such.”

“I suppose she is with bairn,” his mother said scathingly.

“Aye,” Nairn said proudly. “Did ye doubt I would not get a bairn on her immediately, madam?”

“No, I didn't doubt it,” she said bitterly. “But for yer coloring ye are all MacDonald, yer father's son, from yer great height to yer randy and fertile cock.” She turned her gaze to Fiona, saying caustically,
“Ye
know yer not the first wench to give him a bairn.”

“But I am the first one to give him a legitimate heir,” Fiona said quietly. She felt a sudden desire to protect her temporary husband from this vicious harridan and her poisonous tongue. She stared directly at the older woman, her gaze icy and unwavering.

Moire Rose opened her mouth but no words came out.

“God's bones,” Nairn said, “I can't believe my eyes! Not in all my lifetime have I seen anyone render
ye speechless, madam.” He held out his hand. “Now give me the keys to the household, for they are Fiona's from this time onward.”

Yanking them from her girdle, Moire Rose flung the keys at his feet and stormed from the entranceway. Colin MacDonald picked up the keys and handed them to Fiona. “I'll have the servants assembled so they may meet their new mistress,” he said. He took her arm and led her into the small family hall, where a cheerful fire burned.

“The priest was right,” Fiona said slowly. “Father Ninian observed that yer mam is sustained by her own venom and has a wicked tongue and evil mind. ‘Twas harsh, I thought, but now that I have met her, I can see he spoke the absolute truth. I am sorry he left us to go farther south. I would value his counsel right now.”

“Don't ever let that woman suspect any weakness in ye, sweeting,” he warned her. “Remember yer husband is the Lord of Nairns Craig, and yer its mistress. ’Tis yer word and not hers that will rule this household.” Then he asked,
“Ye
do know how to manage a household, do ye not, Fiona mine?”

Fiona laughed as she settled herself in a chair by the fire. “Ye've waited until late, my lord, to inquire, have ye not? Aye, put yer mind at rest. I know well how to manage a household. Don't forget ‘twas I who raised my sisters. Although Brae had a housekeeper, I always observed Mistress Una for the day when the responsibility would be mine.”

“I am relieved to know that Angus Gordon's household will not be discommoded by yer absence.”

“Don't taunt me, Colly,” she said low. “Angus Gordon loved me, and I loved him. One day he may come knocking at yer gates seeking my return. I could go with him.”

“Over my dead body,” he answered her fiercely.

She laughed. “Don't tempt me. Ye owe me much for yer mistreatment of me, Colin MacDonald, but I may forgive ye yet, my lord.” Then she said, “I think it best we not tell yer mother the full truth of our courtship. She would as like to send to Brae to rid herself of me. Angus, most likely, would not have me back, but the situation would create a feud for both yer honor's sake. I should not like that.”

“Nor I,” he responded honestly. “But if I were he, I should want ye back—and that, too, would make a dangerous situation, Fiona mine.”

“So we are agreed then, Colly, that we will make our peace for everyone's sake.”

He nodded. “I don't want to fight with ye, sweeting.”

Again Fiona laughed. “I know,” she told him drolly, “yer objective has always been verra clear, my lord.”

“I've missed ye these past nights,” he murmured, kneeling by her side, taking her hand in his, and kissing the upturned palm.

“Oh, fie, my lord,” she scolded. “Ye'll not get me in yer bed before ye feed me. I am ravenous from our ride today!”

“Then, lady, by God, you shall be well fed, first by my kitchens, then by my passions!” he cried, leaping up and shouting loudly for his servants.

After a bit more than a month's absence, the laird of Loch Brae returned to the court in the last days of October, having escorted the queen's young cousin from York. They had traveled slowly, for Mistress Williams was a delicate creature and could bear the shaking of her transport cart only a few hours a day. Although she rode, she rode badly and preferred not to mount the gentle palfrey that was hers. They did not leave each day until midmorning. They ceased their travels in midafternoon. It made for a tiresome journey, and Angus Gordon was happy to be back at Scone. In the morning, he determined, he would depart for Brae, and his brazen wench. He loved Fiona. He was going to tell her so. The sooner their marriage was celebrated, the happier he would be.

The royal household steward greeted their party as they dismounted in the courtyard. “I will escort Mistress Williams to her majesty,” he said. “The king has asked to see ye as soon as ye arrive, my lord. Here is his personal page, who will escort ye to his presence.”

Angus bid a polite farewell to the young girl who had been his companion for the past few weeks. “I hope ye will be content with the queen, yer cousin, Mistress Beth,” he told her.

“Thank ye, my lord.
Ye
made the trip a pleasant and easy one for me. I do not like traveling particularly. Will I see ye again?”

“It is unlikely, Mistress Beth. I am for Brae in the morning.” He kissed her hand.

Elizabeth Williams followed the royal household steward. “Farewell, then, my lord,” she replied.

“Lead on, laddie,” the laird said to the page. Angus followed the boy, who brought him to the king's privy chamber, ushering him inside and closing the door behind Angus Gordon. “My lord!” Angus said, bowing to James Stewart, who sat before the fire.

“Pour yerself some wine, Angus,” the king said jovially, “and then come and tell me about the trip.”

The laird followed his instructions, and when he had settled himself opposite the king he said, “Twas an uneventful journey, my liege. The lass was waiting at the Convent of Saint Frideswide in York. The only difficulty was that she is not a good traveler, and it was necessary that we proceed slowly. She's with the queen now.”

“Good, good,” the king said. “I knew her dislike of travel, which is why I sent ye, Angus. I knew ye would not be impatient with Beth. She's a sweet lass, is she not?”

“Aye,” the laird answered shortly.

“She'll make a man a good wife,” the king persisted.

“Aye,” came the dutiful response. Then the laird smiled at the king. “Now, my liege, I have done yer bidding, and on the morrow I will depart for Brae. My lass will be waiting. I plan to fetch the priest from Glenkirk Abbey, and marry her. A wedding feast will be set. I'll not admit it to my sister Jan, for ‘twould give her too much power over me, but she was right in that I should have wed my lass when we first came together instead of waiting these two years.”

A moment of guilt overwhelmed the king, but he
manfully swallowed it back. “Angus, my old friend,” he began, “there has been a terrible happening. Fiona has been abducted on her way home to Brae. We can find no trace of her. We don't even know who took her.” He went on to explain to the stunned laird. When he had finished he said, his voice rich with sympathy, “I am so sorry, Angus Gordon, but I will give ye the queen's cousin to wife if ye will have her. I know first ye will want time to recover from this tragedy.”

Angus Gordon was numb with shock, but not so numb that he did not quickly refuse the king's apparently generous offer. “My liege, if the truth be known, Mistress Williams is pretty, and she is certainly sweet-natured and obedient, but as God is my witness, my liege, she is the dullest female I have ever met. I thank ye, but I will not wed her. I must go home to Brae, and I must search for my lass, for if I can't have her to wife, I will have no woman to wife. ‘Twas not to be a marriage of convenience or one in which lands were exchanged. I love my lass. There is no other for me.” He quaffed down the rest of his wine, then arose.