A Spy at the Highland Court

by Barclay, Celeste

  Ric turned when she whispered his name. He pushed away from the window and stepped toward her.

  “I leave in an hour,” Ric did not have time to waste if he was to make any inroads with his goodbye.

  “Where are you going?” Isa paused at Ric’s unexpected declaration.

  “Maxwell territory. There’ve been more skirmishes, and the English are moving toward my clan.”

  “And you’re being sent to fight them?”

  “Yes. I won’t stand by while the people who welcomed me into their home face attack from those who have no claim on the land.”

  “You have changed your opinion of the Scots quite quickly for someone who has only been in the country such a short time.”

  “My opinion has never changed, but my ability to speak of it has.” Ric stepped toward her, and she did not move away. “Isa, I came to say goodbye.”

  Isa swallowed before nodding. She understood he might not return, and the weight that settled upon her chest felt as though it would crush her. When he stepped close enough to pull her into his arms, she did not resist.

  “I don’t want you to say goodbye,” she murmured. “Can we not say something else? Perhaps ‘until later.’”

  “Isa, you know that’s what I would prefer. And I would kiss you, sharing with you a hint of what will have to wait ‘until later.’”

  Isa tipped her head back as her arm wound around Ric’s neck. The feel of her fingers at his nape brought a rumbling growl from deep within. Ric’s mouth descended to hers, and neither gave nor accepted quarter. The kiss was a conflagration of need and desire. Ric’s hands roamed over Isa’s body as much to remember the feel as to brand every inch as his. Her free hand slid over his chest and around to his back, as she seemed to need reassurance that he was truly within her embrace. Ric trailed kisses to behind her ear, and her whimpers of frustration voiced his own feelings.

  “If I were not an innocent,” Isa breathed.

  Ric pulled his face away and looked into her eyes.

  “What are you saying, Isa?”

  “You understand. If I were not a maiden, I would be able to offer you more. I could take more.”

  “Touch me.” His meaning was clear, but he did not move, giving her the choice. Between being raised in a large keep and living at the royal court, she had seen and heard enough to understand how a man and a woman coupled, even the foreplay.

  Isa slid one hand down to the etched marble that was his backside. She explored the groove at his hip before her fingers wrapped about the perfect circle that his taut buttocks made. Her other hand slid to his waist before sliding lower.

  “Kiss,” was all Isa could say, and Ric happily obliged.

  As their tongues once more dueled, Isa slid her hand to cup his length. It was the first time she had ever felt one. She had felt his arousal press against her the first time they kissed, and it certainly pressed against her now, but she had never run her hand over one.

  “Are they all so long and hard?” she mused.

  “Dear God, Isa. Say anything else like that, and I shall spend myself.”

  “Just from my words? Doesn’t it need to be touched?” Her innocent question was accompanied by unsure strokes over his leggings. Ric grasped her wrist.

  “This wasn’t a good idea. I can’t let you touch me. My thoughts are not ones that should be directed toward a virgin.”

  “How unfortunate for me then.”

  “Isa,” he growled.

  “Ric.” Her purr was the perfect opposite to his guttural warning.

  “I don’t think you understand what you do to me.”

  “Then tell me.” The tone was innocent, but the gleam of a seductress entered her eyes. It was a natural expression for Isa, not the practiced one of a courtier. She did not realize the power she possessed over Ric in that moment… in every moment, if he were to be honest.

  “Isa, if I could, I would swipe that table clear of everything until I had space to lay you down and sink into you.”

  “You want to couple with me?”

  Ric’s head fell back with his eyes closed, and he took a deep breath.

  “More than I’ve ever wanted anything else.”

  “You’re the only man who has ever touched me like this, the only one to have ever spoken to me like this.”

  Ric tried to pull away, ashamed to be taking advantage of her.

  “Don’t.” Her hushed tone matched the longing in her eyes. “I don’t want to let go yet.”

  She slid the hand that rested as his waist over the ridges of his abdomen, over the hardened plains of his chest until once again her fingers entangled in the hair at his nape. She rose onto her toes as she pressed the full length of her tall body against his.

  “Ric, I’m frightened you won’t return. I don’t want to let go of you yet.”

  Isa prayed he understood the deeper meaning of her words, and she was rewarded with a deep kiss that was tender rather than needy. Ric’s arms wrapped around her and pressed her against him, not in an act of arousal so much as a need to fuse them into one with nothing that could come between them.

  “Isa, when I return, I shall ask the king to grant me permission to court you. I think we suit, and I would have us get to know one another better to see if it’s true.”

  “Court me?”

  “I intend to marry you, Isa.”

  Isa’s mouth dropped open in surprise, and Ric swooped in for another kiss. This one began with the tenderness that a pledge of marriage garnered, but once more need swept through them.

  “I don’t know how long I shall be gone. It could be days. Or it could be weeks and months.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Ric.”

  “But you’re of an age when your father could announce a betrothal any day.”

  “Then ask the king before you go. Make your intentions known, and I will be sure the queen knows I welcome them.”

  “I don’t want to leave you.”

  “And I can’t come with you.”

  They pressed their foreheads together before exchanging three more brief kisses. They both knew Ric could not linger, so they released each other. Neither was happy to let go.

  “I will walk to the bailey with you.”

  “Isa,” his tone was a warning. “Do you know what people will think if they see us together this early in the morning?”

  “Do you really wish to consider marrying me?”

  “Of course, but—”

  Ric did not get to finish before Isa placed her slender finger over his lips.

  “Then let them think what they like.”

  “And if the king denies me? If I don’t return? Your reputation would be destroyed.”

  “If the king says no, would you not press the issue?” Isa ignored the possibility of his death.

  “Of course I would. I will not be pushed aside so easily. I would find a way, regardless. I intend to ask merely as a courtesy.”

  “Then my reputation would not be ruined. We would simply be a betrothed couple saying adieu.”

  “Is that what you want? Do you not want more time to get to know me?”

  “Part of me feels as if I’ve known you a lifetime already. More than one man has approached me over the years since I arrived at court, but none has caught my interest. None have I considered pledging myself to.”

  “I feel the same. I don’t understand it, but I feel as though I’ve found what I didn’t know I lost. What I need.”

  The couple gazed at one another for another long moment before slipping back into one another’s arms. Isa rested her head against Ric’s shoulder as he stroked her back, and her arms wrapped around his waist.

  “I’m scared you’ll be hurt or won’t come back. What if you’re captured?”

  “Isa, I am coming back to you. Now that I know we have a chance, nothing will keep me from you. Not Edward, not any of his men.”

  “Promise me you’ll be as careful as a warrior can be in battle. Don’t do anything
foolish.”

  “Not when I have something, someone, so precious to return to.”

  They clung to each other a moment longer before they joined hands and left the scriptorium. They made their way to the bailey where they released each other before stepping outside. Horsemen and foot soldiers gathered as horses stomped their hooves and shook their bridles, creating a symphony of ringing metal. The buzz of voices made the inevitability of Ric’s departure more real for both of them. Isa spotted Elizabeth and Deirdre Fraser and Ceit Comyn. The latter two were now Sinclairs, and they stood embraced by their massive Highlander husbands. Magnus Sinclair held Deirdre against his mountainous frame, her feet dangling in the air as she clung to him. Isa’s heart went out to the couple. They had only been reunited for a few short months after being kept apart for seven years by Deirdre’s ambitious parents. Ceit seemed to be giving her husband Tavish an earful before flinging herself into his arms. The kiss the couple exchanged had many people looking away. A slightly more reserved Elizabeth, now a Bruce, embraced her husband as the king’s younger adopted brother, Edward, whispered in his wife’s ear. She nodded before burying her face in his chest, but when she looked up, Isa could see the look of determination on her face that every woman married to a warrior wore when her man was about to ride off into the unknown.

  Isa followed Ric to where Robbie stood with their mounts. Using the horses as a shield, they tangled all four hands together.

  “I believe the other ladies are friends of yours. You shall have company beyond the ladies who serve the queen. I get the distinct impression that you are not fond of your companions.”

  “I’m not, but I’m not sure the Sinclair ladies or Elizabeth will welcome me. I allowed myself to be carried away with some rather unflattering, downright cruel, things that were said about Deirdre and Magnus. I’m rather ashamed of following the other ladies’ lead.”

  “But you regret your actions?”

  “Very much.”

  “Then apologize.”

  “It’s not that simple at court.”

  “None of them are ladies at court anymore. It seems they have moved well past that. And I heard rumors that the challenges to Elizabeth and Edward’s marriage have not been permanently laid to rest yet. I’m sure she would appreciate the added protection of a lady she can trust.”

  Isa looked in the direction of the others, but the horses blocked her view. She was not as confident as Ric that she would be forgiven for following along when the former ringleader of the ladies-in-waiting made disparaging remarks about Magnus and Deirdre. Ric lifted Isa’s chin, and more was conveyed in the look they exchanged than the words they could express.

  “I shall return to you, Isa. One way or another.”

  “Don’t say that. I don’t want it to be your body they bring back.” Tears pricked behind her eyelids as she fought to control a sense of fear and grief she had never experienced before. She remembered when, as a child, she and her siblings watched with their mother as their father rode out. It had been a different type of feeling, watching her father versus the man she was considering marrying. She was not sure if her mother ever felt this way. Despite four children together, her parents were never warm to one another.

  “I wish I could say don’t worry about me, but I will admit that it feels more special than I imagined, having someone care whether I come back alive or not.”

  Ric cupped both sides of her jaw, and Isa tilted her chin as their eyes once more locked. The need for one more kiss was evident. Their lips brushed together before pressing together firmly, Isa opening to accept Ric’s tongue. He swept the satin of her cheek and velvety tongue as she leaned into the kiss, each with their hands fisted in the other’s clothing. They were oblivious to the world around them until gasps and a new buzz of voices reached them. Neither noticed the horses shifted and revealed them to everyone standing in the bailey. Ric pressed Isa behind him as his hands rested on his hips, dangerously close to the hilt of his sword and a knife. The Bruce approached, and Isa wanted to sink into the ground.

  “Are felicitations in order?” The king’s question was more of a demand.

  “That is Lady Isa’s choice, Your Majesty.”

  “Is there a choice when you’ve compromised the lady in the midst of my army and half the livery?”

  “Yes.”

  Ric’s succinct answer made Robert’s russet eyebrows nearly meet his hairline. The color began to rise in his neck and cheeks.

  “I don’t believe the English rules of chivalry are all that different from the Scottish rules of honor. You’ve just been caught kissing a lady-in-waiting.”

  “Being caught implies a degree of guilt. I don’t feel guilty for saying goodbye to the woman I’d intended to ask you if I might court, but I made my intentions clear to Isa before we stepped into the bailey. However, I will not take an unwilling bride. If Isa is not prepared to marry me or no longer wishes to, then I will take the fault for this. I will not force her to marry me.”

  Isa pushed past Ric and stepped in front of him. Even as tall as she was, she had to lean her head back to look up at the king. She did not bother curtsying as she felt pressed to speak up, knowing that their interlude and resulting conversation was delaying everyone.

  “I welcome Sir Dedric’s attentions, and I, too, am inclined to marry. We intended to have more time to determine if we suit, but that is not an option any longer.” Isa looked back over her shoulder at Ric. “And I’m fairly certain we do.”

  The king looked between them before nodding.

  “Your father may not take this well. He’s been in talks with the Maxwell chief, and I believe they were almost to the point of signing papers.”

  Ric wrapped his arm around Isa’s waist and pulled her back against him.

  “If I keep his people alive, I believe bowing out is the least the man could do.”

  Robert grunted. “We shall see whether the laird and the lass’s father agree so merrily.”

  Ric pushed against his horse’s flank before spinning Isa around. He cupped her skull and paused long enough for Isa to nod her head just enough for his fingers to feel before his mouth covered hers. Their kiss rivaled Ceit and Tavish, who had made more than one person embarrassed, but at least they were already wed.

  “Right. We understand your intentions Sir Dedric, and we are all aware that Lady Isabella accepts them. You are delaying everyone.” The king’s tone had a touch of jest, just enough to reassure Ric and Isa that King Robert would not begrudge them their decision.

  “Come back to me,” Isa whispered.

  “No one is keeping me from you. Ever.” Ric pulled away and mounted his horse. Before spurring his horse, he pulled his leather glove from his right hand and slid the signet ring from his finger. He leaned down to Isa, kissing the back of her hand before turning it over. He pressed the ring into her palm, once more giving her a choice. Isa closed her fingers around the ring before opening it and looking at the engraving. She would have to take a closer look once she was in her chamber. She held the ring above her fingers, and it was clear it would slide off any of them. She slid it onto her thumb and smiled as it easily spun but would not easily fall off.

  Ric closed his hand around hers once more and gave it a brief squeeze before nudging his horse forward. Isa stood alone, watching the men depart. Ric looked back once before riding through the gate. The riders spurred into a canter as the foot soldiers followed, jogging behind them. Isa shivered as a sense of foreboding closed in on her. She tried to brush it off, but she was unsuccessful. She was unprepared when she found herself surrounded by three women she did not expect would approach her.

  “It doesn’t get easier, but you become accustomed,” Deirdre Sinclair slid her arm through Isa’s and gave it a squeeze.

  “It helps to have friends,” Ceit Sinclair offered. “You aren’t alone. I was fortunate to have my sisters-by-marriage the first time Tavish rode out on a sortie. I tried not to cry in front of anyone, but then none of us
wanted to. But once we each retired to our chambers, all of us sobbed. We arrived at the evening meals with puffy eyes and red noses. After that, we waited until our men rode out and then commiserated with one another.”

  “This is my first time, too,” Elizabeth offered as she took Isa’s other arm. Elizabeth had experienced her husband riding out to patrol, but never into battle. She leaned into Isa and whispered, “I’m terrified.”

  Isa looked toward her and nodded, unable to speak around the lump in her throat.

  “Let’s move inside before we draw attention.”

  Isa swallowed and smiled. “I believe I’ve made that impossible.”

  The other ladies chuckled and led Isa to Elizabeth and Edward’s chamber, the largest of all the couples’ rooms by virtue of their status as the king’s relatives.

  Chapter Ten

  The days stretched out for Isa as she tried to fill the time between waking and sleeping with her work. She retreated to the scriptorium or the library, where she could comb through the tomes that lined the shelves. She made her appearances at meals and as the queen dictated, but when she could escape, she did. She was surprised at how forgiving the queen was when Isa spent time staring at the door, wishing she could escape to solitude. The chatter of the other ladies was even more daunting than usual. While she preferred time spent alone, she had learned to navigate the world of court and the sociability expected of a lady-in-waiting. But as her mind floated to Ric, she found she was overwhelmed by the noise.

  When she was forced to be in company, she gravitated toward the Sinclair women and Elizabeth Bruce. The women knew the ins and outs of being a lady-in-waiting, and they knew what it was to have their men go into battle. The other ladies-in-waiting were unmarried and unsympathetic. Many turned their noses up at Isa as word of her behavior with Ric became fodder for gossip. Isa’s choice of a half-English man earned her snide remarks and snarky smiles. Those who did not look down upon her for her choice resented her for snagging the most handsome, and available, man at court. Isa did not miss that Lady Bella Fitz-Bigod disappeared as mysteriously as she appeared. Isa tried not to imagine the worst, as the woman’s timing once again synchronized with Ric’s.