Highland Hearts 03 - Crimson Heart (14 page)

“Ye can barely walk?” he quoted and watched her face flame again. Perhaps she wasn’t as innocent as he’d thought.

She didn’t look away though. “You didn’t kill her. The man shouldn’t waste time investigating you when the real murderer is still out there.”

He frowned. “Ye were most convincing. Have ye been loved so well before that ye were nearly crippled?”

Her mouth dropped open as she stared at him in what looked like horror. “No!” she proclaimed and Searc released his breath. “He had to believe me, though.” She sat in a chair by the empty hearth. “Marie called me to mass and had the priest preach about the sins of lying.”

“She suspects—”

“She knows.” Elena wrung her slender hands together like a wet dishrag. “She called me a liar as we were leaving. About Lyngfield being my cousin.”

“That’s why you admitted it to Cleutin.”

“I figured that if Marie knew, he did, but maybe she hasn’t told him yet. Either way I needed to come across as truthful.”

“What did Marie do?”

Elena let out a nervous little laugh. “She sent me to confession.”

“With the priest?”

“Yes, Father Renard. The man smells of the incense and old sweat. Searc,” her voice turned earnest. “He says we must get married again before the church.”

Searc stared at her for a moment. Nothing moved, not even his breath. “Elena, we haven’t married in the first place.”

“I know,” she huffed, “but everyone here thinks we did, but now Father Renard insists that we marry again here, before witnesses.”

“We can decide not to,” Searc said slowly. “Change our minds since it wasn’t official.”

She groaned and covered her eyes. “But he thinks it is official, says the Church of Rome views clandestine weddings as binding.” She peeked at him. “Especially since we fornicated.”

“Ye told the priest we fornicated?”

She leapt up and began to pace. He watched her rub palms against her cheeks as if trying to cool a ferocious blush. “I’m getting everything all tangled up.” She looked at him. “We must have our stories straight.”

“Ye have an interesting way of living, lass.” Since Searc’s mother was able to tell if someone was lying with her magical ability to sense the changes in the body, he’d learned early on that it was better to avoid questions rather than lie.

Elena’s brow furrowed in annoyance, but she ignored his comment. “We married in the woods and consummated the vows. I am William Wyatt’s daughter but both he and my mother,” she paused as if thinking of a name, “my mother, Mary, are dead.”

“And ye were apparently bloody mistaken about me not being able to perform my husbandly duty,” Searc threw in. “What with all the loving ye had last night.”

“You aren’t taking this seriously.”

“Actually that last part is exceedingly serious.”

She squeezed her pretty face into a glare which only made him want to laugh. The woman had a way of teasing humor out of him when none had existed before. He squelched the smile he felt gathering and nodded solemnly. “Very well. We married in the forest without witnesses and we had a night ye will never forget, damp and dirty amongst the ferns.”

“Searc!”

“Perhaps we should go over those details in case we are questioned,” he pointed out. At her mutinous glare he looked as contrite as he could. “I will just say I don’t tup and tell.”

She shut her eyes as if praying for patience, but the corners of her mouth slipped upward as if her composure was cracking. She shook her head and looked at him. “Really, Searc.” A little chuckle broke through. “This is serious.”

He nodded in agreement. “Is there anything else ye told the priest or that he ordered?”

“Just that we must marry before the church and we must not fornicate any longer.”

“Ye’ll be better able to walk then.”

She threw up her hands and pivoted but not before he caught a glimpse of her little smile. When she turned back, she’d composed her annoyed look. “You are having quite a bit of fun for a warrior.”

“Ye seem to bring out the devil in me.”

Her eyes focused upward. She was worrying again. “Searc. What if they move one of us out of our rooms, split us up until we wed?”

“Then we wed, in haste.” All remnants of his grin disappeared. He would not have her sleeping alone while that fiend hunted for more victims.

Elena looked stricken. Of course the thought terrified her. Who would want to truly wed a monster?

He stepped closer and held her shoulders lightly. “If we do not consummate the union, lass, it is not a true marriage. We will have it annulled when we return to the Highlands, directly with Rome through Father Daughtry, the priest who visits our clans.”

The tips of her delicate fingers turned white and then red as she clutched them. “Lass, ye will make yer hands ache with that.”

“Pardon?”

“Yer hands, twisting them. My mother holds a cloth when my da journeys somewhere dangerous. It gives her something besides flesh to mangle.” He glanced around. “I would give ye a handkerchief.”

Elena thrust a hand between the layers of her skirts and pulled out a cloth. “I have one that I found, though I doubt it’s clean.” She shook out the dusty handkerchief, laying it flat on her lap. She smoothed it so they could see the embroidered purple and yellow flowers edging it. In one corner, in tiny, perfect stitches, was an elaborate letter “J.”

“God’s teeth,” Elena whispered and looked up at him. “It’s Jacqueline’s.”

“Where did ye find it?”

“In the confessional. She must have dropped it there.”

“It could be another lass’s.” Searc held it to his sensitive nose. A faint essence of perfume lay upon it. “But we should give it to Cleutin.”

“He said that the letter wasn’t on her body?” Elena asked.

“Nay, it was not.” Searc returned the handkerchief to Elena.

“I wish I knew for certain what was in it,” she said.

“That is a wish I can grant ye.” Searc pulled the letter from inside his plaid. Elena stared at him, her eyes growing round.

“You…found it.”

The slight hesitation tightened his gut. Could she think him capable—?

“You had it and didn’t mention it?”

“Ye were devising our story.” The heaviness of her worry blackened his light mood. He handed it to her.

“Where did you find it?” Elena examined the seal.

“In our hearth, the edge burnt as if to look like we were trying to dispose of it.”

Elena sucked in a quick inhale. “Who would do that?”

“The murderer most likely, someone trying to incriminate me.” He walked across the room, giving her some distance. “Perhaps they know of my escape in the village.”

“Henri Cleutin? He was right here, ready to pounce on you.”

Searc shook his head. “The man never once looked at the hearth. I watched closely. If he had planted the letter, his gaze would have strayed there. ’Twas someone else who found our room empty.”

“I’d think they’d try to show up now to catch you with it.” Elena unfolded the letter.

“Or they are waiting to see if we turn it over to Marie or try to destroy it.”

“Have you read it?” She looked down at it balanced in her hands.

“Nay.”

Elena gently pressed it open and walked closer to one of the windows where the light was better.

“Will ye read it out loud?” he asked. She glanced at him for a long moment and then nodded.

Master Roger Lyngfield,

For these past years I have kept your cousin, Elena, originally of Sudeley Castle near Winchcombe, here at Grimsthorpe Castle. Your mother’s sister-in-law, the late queen Katherine Parr, raised her for as long as she could before me. Unfortunately my household has need to relocate and we are unable to take Elena with us. I ask of you to take your cousin in and protect her. She is a lovely, levelheaded woman with many attributes including needlework and care of children.

Even though she does not wear the Tudor rose, let me beseech you to take great care with her, as her blood is just as fragrant. Guard her virtue, for her value is more than you could imagine.

With wishes for prosperity,

Catherine Willoughby, Duchess of Suffolk
.

Elena stopped reading the letter and gave a little snort. “Value? She valued me only in what I could clean or care for.”

“Even she doesn’t give ye a surname,” Searc pointed out. “Why?”

Elena refolded and pressed the parchment closed, the fun banter from before faded. She lifted her gaze to his, trying to keep away the mist that threatened to turn to tears. ’Twas the same old pain, dulled now like an old wound that ached in damp weather. She sighed. “’Tis because I do not have one.”

Searc didn’t speak, only stared. The man had saved her, refused to abandon her to her fake cousin, and was willing to risk treason charges by lying to the queen regent about her, yet her secrets lay unmoving on her tongue. She must give him something.

“I was born unwanted, Searc, without happy tidings nor name.”

“And yet protected by a queen and then a Duchess,” Searc said without giving her any room to retreat or lighten the sudden tension between them.

“Lady Suffolk did little to protect me. I protected myself.”

He shook his head, his eyes hard. “I wish that I had been there, lass, but I am here now.” He took a step closer. “What are ye hiding from?”

“I am no one of consequence.”

“Yet ye were so desperate to escape England that ye were willing to strike out on yer own, pretending to be Catholic despite yer Protestant upbringing.”

He waited, wanting more, but she held her tongue. “Someone whose blood is as fragrant as a Tudor rose,” he quoted.

“I am no one, Searc, a woman without a family or a home,” she whispered through her teeth. She’d met the man a week ago. She couldn’t trust him with truths she’d been told to hide from birth. “I’m no one,” she repeated her mantra, the one Lady Suffolk had told her daily.

“No one?” He raised one eyebrow in obvious suspicion. The look should have made her want to hold firm, but instead it pulled at her heart. “I,” he continued, “think ye are someone, someone important.”

Unfortunately that’s the same conclusion that the Earl of Huntingdon in England had come to also. He’d been the one to uncover plans for the treasonous rebellion instigated by Lady Jane Grey’s father, thus causing the sixteen-year-old denounced queen, her husband, and her father to be executed by Queen Mary Tudor.

Elena studied the letter again instead of meeting Searc’s eyes. Perhaps…if her virtue was not intact, she’d be less valuable. Certainly she wouldn’t be able to be married off if she were promiscuous, or further yet, with child. Her heart began to pound over her quickly evolving plan.

Rap, rap
. The door. Elena held up the letter, her eyes wide. Should they say they found it in the hearth? Would anyone believe them? She also had what could be Jacqueline’s handkerchief on her. She shook her head silently.

Without a word, Searc took the letter from her fingers and shoved it inside his shirt, trapping it at his waist with his kilt. The tapping at the door came louder, more insistent.

“Who is there?” Elena called.

“Mistress Elena, ye and Master Searc are called to take the afternoon meal with the queen regent in her private chambers.”

Searc unlocked the door. Hannah stood there, eyes wide at Searc’s towering frame. In his half undone shirt and kilt, the man was heart stopping. Elena felt giddy as she considered her plan again. Elena waved the maid in.

Hannah made a brief bow to Elena and glanced about the room. “Do ye need help dressing?”

“I do not have many gowns.” Elena glanced at Searc where the letter was hidden, but averted her eyes. “I believe this one will do for the midday meal.”

“Certainly, mistress,” Hannah answered. “I can try to find another day gown for ye. I know that Jacqueline was looking for some.” Her gaze came back to Elena. “Ye have heard?”

Elena nodded. “I am so sorry. Was she a friend to you?”

Hannah nodded and her round eyes grew glassy.

“I fear for the safety of all the women here,” Elena added. “You should not walk the halls alone.”

“I will escort ye back to the main hall,” Searc volunteered, his voice grim.

“No need, sir. I will go directly there,” Hannah replied, her hand fluttering at her neck. “I’m expected.” She nearly ran from the room. Elena looked between the door and Searc. His eyes hardened. The girl was skittish. And Searc was quite intimidating with all his muscles and stunning good looks.

“She doesn’t know you,” Elena tried to explain. “She would be frightened of any new man at court. Her friend has just been murdered. I’m sure—”

He interrupted her. “The maid looked to the hearth. Three times in two minutes.”

…

Searc held Elena’s elbow as they walked behind the page who had returned to fetch them for the midday meal. “Why would Hannah put the letter in our room?” Elena whispered. “She has nothing to gain and no authority.”

“Perhaps the killer convinced her to do so.” Searc held her hand where it sat on his arm as they walked. “Or she saw it in the hearth earlier and realizes that it must be what the whole palace is searching for it.”

“We must talk to her.” Elena’s fingers curled into his arm. “And we must get rid of that letter.”

Marie de Guise’s receiving chamber was painted a pale blue with fine wood work flanking the bottom half of the walls. Before the tiled hearth was an intimate round table, three of the chairs empty and two occupied by the queen regent and Henri Cleutin.

Marie sat a space apart from the table, her lap covered with two furry dogs. As Elena and Searc approached, one dog jumped off, growling at Elena. She stopped in mid-stride.

The dog was obviously the dominate of the two pets.

“Hush,
ma chérie
,” Marie called but didn’t move to stop her dog from threatening them. The other dog in her lap sat up, watching and wary as she stroked its head.

Animals either bowed down to Searc or chose to fight for dominance. The beast on the floor was clearly outmatched, but didn’t back down. In its sheltered life it most likely hadn’t encountered a more dominant animal. It lunged on its small paws, an obvious warning not to step too close to it or its mistress. Searc didn’t detect a real threat, but a tendril of fear tightened inside Elena.

Searc let his power rise up smoothly from his gut. Under the sharp barking, Searc loosed a low growl, exposing his magic on some invisible level to the annoying dog.

“He’s quite protective,” Marie called over the shrill yaps just before her pet suddenly stopped its tirade. Searc looked directly into the little beast’s brown, glassy stare. The dog’s eyes seemed to bulge a bit more. With a quick whine, it retreated, jumping back into Marie’s lap to hide against her arm.

“
Mon Dieu
.” Marie glanced at Searc.

He shook his head. “Animals either like me immensely or decide I’m someone to steer clear of.”

“I’ve never seen him react that way.” She cooed over the little dog, kissing him until he settled back on her lap. Marie called for one of the servers to take the dogs away to her bed chamber. She quirked her head to the side as she regarded Searc. “You frighten animals? Why?”

Searc pulled up to the wooden table, trying to avoid the center supports underneath, but his long legs made it difficult. He took the bread offered him.

“I think it is my stature that intimidates them. Your mare doesn’t seem to dislike me.” He bit some of the sweet butter on the rich herbed fare.

“Thank you, your grace, for inviting us to dine with you.” Elena bowed her head where she sat.

Marie’s mouth tightened. “Father Renard said that you would have need to speak with me.”

Elena nodded. “I beseech your forgiveness, your grace,” she started. “I am not related to Roger Lyngfield by blood. His aunt, Katherine Parr of Sudeley Castle in England, raised me until I was thirteen and she was taken to be queen. Her close friend, Lady Suffolk, took me in after that. She felt that the queen dowager’s nephew should take me in as I could not accompany her family to Europe. With her own sons lost to an outbreak of the sweating sickness, she said she no longer wished to be responsible for the guidance of youthful pride.”

Elena looked back up, her cheeks stained pink. Searc wondered if this extra information was true or just something to add unprovable details to her story. Either way, Elena looked like she was revealing a painful truth.

Elena shifted in her chair, but met Marie’s hard gaze bravely. “She said I should say he was truly my cousin, to everyone, so that he would feel obligated to help me. I am very sorry for my transgressions and only hope that you believe I did so with no intent to disrespect or fool your grace.”

“You have no other family then?” Marie’s voice held firm despite Elena’s performance.

“None who would acknowledge me, your grace.”

Marie wiped her pursed lips. “Well, you now have your Highlander, although I understand that the two of you need to be properly wed within the church.”

“We are wed within the customs of my people,” Searc answered.

Marie’s eyes snapped to his. “Your people are
my
people.” Her thin fingers curled into a fist. “And the west needs to adhere to the practices regulated by this government and church.”

As if on cue, the door opened and Father Renard entered, his eyes even and unsurprised at finding them in the queen regent’s private quarters. He took the remaining seat.

Marie continued as if Father Renard had been listening. Perhaps he had. “Until the time when he can bless your union, he feels it best if Elena resides at the abbey.”

“No,” Searc said before Marie could take another breath. “That is unacceptable, especially with a murderer running loose within Edinburgh. Elena will stay at my side until I can assure she is safe.”

“We have a curfew in place and extra guards patrolling every corridor and common room around the palace,” Henri assured him. “The abbey is adjacent and guarded.”

Father Renard set his wooden crucifix on the table. “Surely she will be safe in the care of the abbey.” He spoke smoothly and took a sip of wine.
Pompous arse.

Elena shifted in her seat and Searc watched her produce the handkerchief from her skirts. Her plans for it had apparently changed.

“When I was in the confessional after mass this morning,” she said softly, “I found this dropped in a corner.”

She set the dainty cloth before Marie who leaned over it, Henri’s head nearly brushing hers to do the same. She murmured in French and said Jacqueline’s name in her thick accent. Henri placed his hand over hers and her gaze rose to meet Elena’s. “Jacqueline’s handkerchief.”

The priest grabbed the material off the table. “It could be anyone’s handkerchief.”

“How many ladies with a J starting her name are here at court?” Searc asked. The elderly man frowned fiercely.

“
Mon Père
,” Marie asked. “Did Jacqueline come to confess before she disappeared?”

Father Renard sat still as a hare in a falcon’s sight, but then seemed to relax as if remembering. “I was unwell during the day yesterday. I asked Brother Peter to witness confession if anyone came in. I will ask him. Perhaps the poor girl mentioned where she was going afterward.” He turned his authoritative gaze on Elena. “Though this has nothing to do with your safety in staying at Holyrood Abbey. You will be completely protected in our care.”

Searc turned to Marie. “Unless ye arrest me—” which would be bloody difficult, “—Elena stays with me.”

“Your grace,” Elena spoke up softly. “As a great woman in power, you are strong enough to withstand such frightening tragedy in your midst. I am sorry to say, I am not so brave. I humbly request your permission to stay with my husband. He saved me from thieves in the forest and I feel safe only with him. If that means another chaperone must sleep in the same room as us, then we can accommodate that requirement.”

Searc swore beneath his breath. Marie smiled, looking at him. “I doubt your Highlander would appreciate that arrangement. I’ve heard he’s recovered from his infirmity.”

“Another reason I insist the woman stay within the shelter of the church,” Renard argued.

Infirmity! Bloody blasted hell!
“I would rather,” Searc practically snarled, “say our vows right here, right now before Father Renard if ye would grant us a license instead of waiting for the banns to be posted. No one here in Edinburgh even knows of us. Elena has no family to cry nay to the nuptials.”

“What if she is running away from another marriage back in England?” Father Renard pressed.

Elena turned to meet the man’s suspicious eyes. “On my soul, Father, I am attached to no other through word or deed.”

“I will back her oath with one hundred pounds if she is lying about being promised to another,” Searc said with calm assurance. A fortune. Hopefully the lass hadn’t failed to mention some heartbroken swain in England.

“The two seem adamantly certain.” Henri set his palms on the table. “And since the marriage has already been consummated, most heartily, a license to wed in haste should be granted.” Henri looked to Marie. “Perhaps we should take them to Linlithgow Castle with us, keep them together and under our watchful eye.”