by Eliza Knight
Julia let out a long, annoyed sigh. “I am Lady Julia Sutherland. If my name doesna crack open whatever is left of your brain, perhaps the fact that I am the niece of our departed king will.”
The man looked ready to argue with her. Perhaps to force her to prove who she said she was, but instead, with a narrowed gaze, he did step aside. But he didn’t leave. He followed close behind her as she made her way into the room. If she stopped suddenly, she was certain he’d run into her.
“Ye make a good shadow,” she said with a roll of her eyes, and ignored his low growl. The solar was empty. Flanking the hearth were two great chairs. A table in the center of the room was covered in maps and scrolls. Shelves along the walls were similarly filled with scrolls, books and various other pieces of parchment. A large desk was cluttered with more of the same. Other than the two of them, the room was empty. “Where is the earl?”
“Through that door.” Her shadow nodded his chin toward a door on the far left beside the hearth.
“I can handle seeing him on my own, sir, or are ye afraid I might have come here for some wicked purpose?”
He didn’t answer, which was answer enough.
“Fine.” Julia shrugged. “Follow me. Climb on my back and I’ll carry ye with me through the door. I dinna care.”
He simply stared at her and, judging from the simmering look of fury on his face, he wanted to toss her through the window. Ignoring the hulking man behind her, she made her way deeper into the solar to the door at the opposite end and knocked gently.
“Who is it?” the earl called from within.
“Lady Julia—”
“Come, I’ve been expecting ye.”
Julia resisted the urge to turn around and smirk at the oaf behind her. Would serve him right to know she’d been telling the truth this whole time. Instead, she opened the door and, while she did try to kick it closed behind her, the man managed to duck in, the wood glancing off an elbow and nothing more. Astonishing, given his bulk. He had to be six and a half feet tall, and his shoulders as wide as the door’s frame. Mighty lucky of him not to have been hit in the head just then.
“Ah, Lady Julia,” the earl said, ambling forward, his black hair tinged with gray pulled into a queue. His middle had grown rounder since the last time she’d seen him, and the injury he’d taken to his leg in battle years before appeared to be bothering him immensely. “’Tis good to see ye, my dear. How is your da?”
“He is well, my lord, thank ye for asking.”
“I’m sorry your mother could not join ye here. I hope she gets well soon.”
“We are all praying.”
“Was it poison?”
Julia bit the inside of her cheek, glancing at the man behind her, wishing he would get the hell out of the room so she might have a private conversation.
“We are nae certain.” That was a lie. They were completely certain that it was an assassination attempt, but they weren’t certain who had done the deed.
Her mother fell ill around the same time as the king’s passing, which had them all worried that perhaps the king had come to the same fate, but nothing could be proved, and so for now, the official word on the death of her uncle was the continued illness he’d suffered for months.
“Well, I wish her well all the same.” The earl patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. “She assures me that whatever we need, ye’ll be able to provide.”
Julia felt the heat of discomfiture clear to her toes.
“And who is this?” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder, trying to change the subject in hopes of reminding the earl they were in mixed company.
“Ah, forgive me my manners,” the earl said. “This is Sir Alistair Campbell, my guard. He knew your uncle well, and is perhaps even acquainted with your father.”
“Is that so?” Julia gave Sir Alistair a withering look. It would appear Sir Alistair Campbell would not be getting off her back anytime soon. “He did not mention that when he allowed me entry.”
The earl chuckled. “Sir Alistair is not a man of many words.”
“I see.” Julia turned around to face him. “Well, I shall ask ye directly then, Sir Alistair, do ye know my father, Laird Ronan Sutherland?”
Alistair’s expression did not change at all. There was not even a hint of recognition in his eyes that he’d been addressed, so when he said, “Nay,” Julia had not been expecting it.
“Well, there ye have it.” She started to turn back to the earl to ask if the brooding warrior could be dismissed when he spoke once more.
“But I am acquainted with your cousins, Sirs Liam and Strath. And I met your other cousin, Lady Bella, at court some years past with her husband, Chief Oliphant.”
“I am glad to hear it, else I might have offered my advice to Lord Moray that ye be dismissed on account of lack of familiarity.” She winked at Lord Moray, who chuckled indulgently.
Julia was exceedingly glad that she’d been blessed with her mother’s skill as a warrior, and her father’s charm. Her father, too, was a great warrior, but differed so much in personality to her mother. Having both their skillsets helped her tremendously in the world, for she could often distract people with her wit and charm, before using her skills as a warrior to see whatever task needed doing, done.
Insolent, arrogant chit.
“What was that?” Julia said, whipping around to face Sir Alistair.
He raised another of those sharply arched brows. “My lady?”
“I heard ye say something.”
Green eyes judged her. “I assure ye, I didna speak.”
Julia frowned and turned back to the earl, who was looking at her with some concern. Zounds, was she hearing things again?
The murmurs that had started to buzz the night she’d taken her mother’s armor had mostly ceased, and she prayed it wasn’t picking up in earnest again to torment her.
“Apologies, I think exhaustion and hunger are sinking in.”
“Aye, I’m certain, if ye made it here in a sennight. I’ll call a servant to take ye to your chamber and see that a bath and a meal are sent up. In the morn, I’ll take ye to see King David. He was excited ye’d be joining us, as he is so fond of your mother.”
“I’ll take her, my lord, if ye wish,” Alistair broke in.
Earl Moray glanced over Julia’s shoulder to Alistair and nodded with a faint smile. “Aye, that would be good. I’ve some urgent correspondence to get to, and my knee is paining me greatly today. Thank ye for coming, Lady Julia. Ye must know I am grateful to have ye here with us.”
Julia curtseyed. “It is my honor, my lord.”
Outside the earl’s chamber, Sir Alistair stopped and crossed his massive, muscular arms over his chest. She couldn’t help but admire his braw figure, and that was irritating. With arms like that, the man could have the strength of at least two or three men.
Merida did not like his stance and let him know by growling.
Sir Alistair made a sound with his tongue against his teeth and Merida sat right down without hesitation.
Julia kept her mouth from falling open but couldn’t keep her hands from fisting at her sides. “How dare ye silence my war dog? She is here to protect me, and clearly saw ye as a threat.”
“Perhaps I am a threat, my lady. Or perhaps it is ye who is the threat.”
“That is absurd,” she scoffed.
“Is it?” He raised a challenging brow.
She was getting mightily tired of his over-expressive eyebrows. What would he do it she shaved them off in his sleep? Perhaps a little lesson would be good for the arrogant arse. “What is wrong with ye? What have I done to warrant such suspicion? Ye saw that the earl was pleased to see me, that I was invited. Ye even know that I am the niece of King Robert, God rest his soul, so why is it that ye have decided to pick a fight with me?”
“I’m nae picking a fight.” The glower and crossed arms said otherwise.
“Then what are ye doing?”
He pursed his lips. “’Tis my d
uty to protect the earl and the king, and I must examine every potential threat and every person who enters this castle.”
“Well,” Julia said, crossing her arms over her chest, mocking his stance, “I will have ye know that it is also my duty to do the same.”
Sir Alistair grunted. “Follow me.”
Was it her, or did he give the order regretfully? What was it he hoped she was? Why did he seem to want her to be the enemy? Was he expecting someone? Was he up to no good?
Entirely too many questions and not enough answers.
The wench was unquestionably up to no good.
Despite the honest look about her gray eyes, there was something about the red fire of her golden locks that set Alistair on edge. What was she up to? Why was she here?
The earl had never made mention of Lady Julia before, nor that he was expecting her. Was she truly who she said she was? The earl seemed to recognize her, but Alistair had to acknowledge that his lord was aging, and with age came a slight decline in eyesight. There was at least some measure of possibility that the chit was not who she claimed.
Dammit, he didn’t have time to spy on her as well. Already Hugh and his lover were taking up much of his time. As it turned out, Lady Melia was one of the king’s new nursemaids, which was why Alistair had recognized her. That meant there was a woman entirely too close to the young king for his comfort. He’d been able to convince the earl to double the guards on duty around the king, as well as to give Alistair the task of handpicking who would be among them, but that didn’t mean that Lady Melia wouldn’t be able to see her task through—whatever it may be. It only took one weak man to relent, and then the king’s safety was in jeopardy.
They reached the chamber beside his—the best way for him to keep an eye on this newcomer. “I will see that a meal and bath are sent up.”
She rounded on him, all of the fire in her lithe body directed at him. The lass was a beauty, with angles in her face that reminded him of those on a goddess. Beneath the layers of fabric, he would bet a year’s wages she was just as perfect. “And ye willna be surprised when I have ye test both first.”
What the devil? “Test both?”
“The food and bath water.” The tone of her voice made it clear she thought him an idiot.
“Ye wish to watch me bathe?” He said it in hopes of distracting her, but she did not even so much as crack a smile.
“I would be satisfied with ye resting your hand in the water for several minutes.”
“I will not poison ye.”
“Since ye were in the room with the earl and I, but ye seem denser than the stone walls, I’ll remind ye what ye should have heard before. ’Tis possible my mother was recently poisoned. It is not beyond the realm of imagining that I might too be victim to such a tactic.”
“And ye think I would be the one to do so.”
“Perhaps not.” She shrugged. “If ye will not test the food or bath, I will partake of neither.”
“Then ye will starve.”
Merida growled, and again, he made the sound he gave his own hounds, calming the beast.
“Perhaps your dog can partake first,” he suggested.
“Why not your own hound?”
She would not stop fighting him on this, he could see. “Fine. I will do it.”
“Thank ye.” Lady Julia turned away from him and put her hand to the door, then whipped back to face him. “Will ye have my satchel sent up as well?”
“Ye’ve no more baggage than a mere satchel?” He narrowed his eyes again, once more suspicious. Who came to an indefinite stay with no luggage?
“I’m quite simple, ye will find, Sir Alistair. But if it is beyond your duties to fetch it, I will happily see about it myself.”
“I will do it.”
“And search through it, I’m certain.”
He grinned. “Ye catch on quickly.”
“As long as ye dinna try on my nightrails, I’m certain I dinna care.” With that, she pushed into her chamber and shut the door in his face.
It was only then, facing the worn wood, that he realized his heart pounded a bit faster, that a feeling leaked within his veins he’d not allowed himself to experience in some time.
Interest. Desire.
And she’d not even flattered or attempted to flirt with him in the least. If anything, she’d only been too apparent in her dislike of him.
That only made him like her all the more.
The door yanked open when he’d reached the stairs, and he heard her call out to him. “Sir, cider if ye have it please, instead of ale or wine, when ye send up my meal.”
Alistair nodded and continued on his way, not considering to ask why until he’d reached the bottom. He often denied himself any alcohol as well, as it kept him more alert. Was that what she was up to? Keeping alert?
Hell and damnation, who had just entered the castle?
3
Julia woke with a start from a dream of running through the mountains and plunging into the Fairy Pools on the Isle of Skye. She’d been there once before but could hardly remember it, since she’d been a child at the time. So how was it that her dream had been so vivid? The colors of the water the richest blue, and steam curling from the surface. In her dream, a bewitching voice had continued to chant, Come to the Fairy Pools… Fulfill your destiny.
Had that blasted ogre spiked her cider?
Sir Alistair had played along and sipped, taken bites and rested his hand in the tub. Nothing had affected him. Though his intense gaze had affected her greatly. A shiver passed through her at the memory, and she tried not to think of what it could mean. On her wedding night years ago, she’d felt shivers… But even those virginal reactions to a man she barely knew were nothing compared to the memory of Sir Alistair’s glittering emerald eyes.
Julia rubbed at her temples, trying to swipe away the memories.
Back to the more serious allegation running through her mind… If he’d spiked her cider, he might have been immune to whatever was in it. Didn’t most of the warriors drink enough whisky to knock her under the table?
Swinging her feet over the side of the bed, Julia attempted to wipe the cobwebs from her eyes. No light filtered through her window, save for the moon. It was still quite the dead of night. A little twinge on her hip reminded her of the mark she had there. She lifted the chemise, staring at the welt on her hip. A lot of the redness and swelling had gone down. Thank goodness for the oil she rubbed on it. But how odd, the welt was starting to almost take on the shape of a… dagger. So very strange.
Despite the late hour, she felt a call to check on the wee king. They’d yet to be introduced, but that didn’t matter. She’d come to the castle for one purpose alone—to protect the royal child. And she wasn’t going to shirk her duty, even if it was the middle of the night.
Julia shrugged into her armor, then her gown, and for safe measure, strapped her arm braces and daggers beneath her voluminous sleeves, just in case.
Merida sat, watching her dress, her head cocked to the side as if she had her own thoughts about what Julia was doing.
“Dinna judge me,” Julia said with a chuckle.
Merida’s tongue fell out of her mouth, panting, and her tail thumped the floor.
She didn’t expect to need them, but there were some nerves that niggled at the back of her brain, and had the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. Was it Sir Alistair? The way he’d been acting definitely had her suspicious, and she didn’t trust him at all.
The door to her chamber creaked loudly as she opened it, a beacon to anyone that she was departing from the sanctuary. She expected at any moment for a guard to leap from the shadows to demand to know where she was going, but the corridor was utterly silent. Torches were lit, every other one, along the wall. Free of cobwebs but not shadows.
She closed the door behind her as quietly as she could and tried to get her bearings. Merida stood right by her side, prepared to follow wherever her lady led her. There were only a
few places a king would sleep. Either in the nursery, as he was still a wee thing, or perhaps beside the earl’s chamber, so as to be close to his regent—or a third option was in the king’s old chamber itself, as he was now the king.
Given the worry for the lad’s safety, Julia determined he must be near the earl. She descended the stairs and crept her way past the second door that had been the earl’s solar, to the door after, which she assumed was the regent’s bedchamber. Pressing an ear to the door, she listened for any sounds—hoping none of them were the whispers in her head. There were the snores that sounded very much like that of an older man—and aye, she’d heard plenty of that at Eilean Donan. Determining that this must be the earl’s bedchamber, she continued on to the door beyond it.
Surprisingly, there were no guards outside any of the doors. It was possible they were within the chamber, but she found it odd all the same. Wouldn’t they want as many guards on the lad, and the regent, as possible?
Julia pressed her ear to the door, hearing none of the snores from the previous chamber, but there were the sounds of shuffling, as though someone moved about the room. The guards perhaps, or the king’s nursemaids.
Merida let out a low warning—then promptly sat. What did that mean?
“What are ye doing?”
Julia jumped, her head knocking into something hard—or had something been brought down upon her head? Was she being attacked?
She saw black for a moment, the jolt of the blow reverberating in her jaw, before whirling around, vision still blurred, ready to fight.
A large man stood behind her, and before she lashed out at him, she realized it was Sir Alistair, and he was rubbing his chin. “Why’d ye do that?” he accused.
“Me? That was entirely your fault. Why did ye sneak up on me?”
“I’m not the one doing the sneaking. Clearly ’tis ye sneaking about the corridor.”
“With ye right behind me.” She touched the dagger at her wrist. “Explain yourself.”
“I will not explain myself to ye. In fact, ye need to explain yourself to me.”