A Spinster at the Highland Court: The Highland Ladies Book One

by Barclay, Celeste

  “I admit I was looking forward to time alone with you once we leave all this court intrigue behind us, but I find knowing we are beginning our own family makes me happier than I ever imagined. I realized when I met you in the Great Hall and led you onto the terrace last year that you were special. You drew me to you like a moth to the flame, but you disappeared as quickly as you appeared. When I returned to Ireland, I assumed I would never meet you again. Then I spotted you in the chapel, and you drew me again like a lodestone. I was certain that day that I met my match, and I agree, you don’t scamper. You’re just as graceful as you appeared each Sunday as I watched you during the Advent services. I am the luckiest of men to have found you, Beth. I know you believed you would never marry, but I’m glad the good Lord saw fit to keep you unattached until I returned to you.”

  “You would be a splendid bard,” Elizabeth murmured as she basked in the warmth of Edward’s words and his embrace. “I knew when we first met that I’d made the right choice to spread that rumor, but I accepted that it was only for Ceit and Tavish’s benefit. I never imagined I would leave as lasting an impression on you as you did with me. I dreamed of you, but was so certain I’d never meet you again. Even once I did, I was convinced I’d never get to marry you, never experience the happiness I’ve found with you. I didn’t believe it would ever be possible.”

  “You being with child lends a new sense of urgency that we resolve this threat and find our new home. Even if I’m the target, court and everything attached to it isn’t safe for you. We need to meet with Robert, and I don’t want you in this chamber any longer. Someone has violated our space. Twice.”

  Edward eased Elizabeth to her feet before they left to speak to Robert. The king became outraged when he learned of not only the dead bird, but the bath intended to look like blood. He stormed through the passageways, Edward able to keep up but Elizabeth running, until they reached Edward and Elizabeth’s chamber. The king burst through the door and took in the scene. He spotted the dead bird still on the bed where his brother and sister-by-marriage discovered it, along with the red bath water.

  “I ask your forgiveness, brother. I admit I didn’t take your concerns enough to heart. I ensured the guards followed Elizabeth to appease you, but it’s obvious Elizabeth was in far more danger than I accepted.” Robert looked contrite as he spoke loud enough for only Elizabeth and Edward to hear. Now that they knew someone used the secret passageways to come and go from this chamber, they were cautious not to speak loudly enough for anyone who might be spying to overhear. Elizabeth’s skin crawled as she realized someone may have been listening to her most intimate moments with Edward, or the confidences she shared with her friends. She recalled there were no peepholes in this part of the castle, but the walls were still thin enough for every moan and grunt to carry. Edward looked over at her, his brow creased, but she shook her head and mouthed “later.” He nodded, but still laced his fingers through hers and gave her hand a squeeze.

  “I accept your apology, Robert. I would rather believe they intended the attacks for me than Elizabeth, but she is my wife now and is just as vulnerable a target, if not more so.” Edward looked at Elizabeth and the silent question passed between them of whether he should share their news. Elizabeth nodded once. “Robert, you shall be an uncle in about six moons.”

  “An uncle?” Robert’s eyes widened as he looked between his brother and Elizabeth. “Felicitations are in order, but I can understand the renewed sense of urgency to find you a permanent home. With spring approaching, I would settle you somewhere before it becomes too arduous for Elizabeth to travel. But I doubt leaving will solve this problem.”

  “I agree. I want to meet with Tavish and Magnus as soon as possible. Perhaps Ceit will come up with some suggestions on where to start.” Edward beamed while Robert congratulated them, but grew serious as they planned the investigation after having had to put it on hold for so long. “In the meantime, we need another chamber. Preferably one that doesn’t include a hidden corridor behind it.”

  Both men looked to Elizabeth, who grimaced before looking apologetic.

  “There are none that I’m aware of. Even the king and queen’s chambers include them. I suppose most especially the royal chambers do in case the king and queen should ever need to flee, but what I mean to say is there are passageways running to and from all the bedchambers. The royal chambers and those for the royal family don’t have peepholes, but most of the other chambers do. The antechamber and Privy Council along with the queen’s solar and the king’s library have them. The tunnels run behind the altar of the chapel and to the music room, scriptorium, the main library, all the way down to the kitchens. There is a wide passageway behind the Great Hall with a platform and a rotting latticework screen that allows someone to observe what happens below without being seen. I used to use the passageways that led from my chambers to the part of the bailey closest to the stables. It’s how I slipped out for rides or to visit my siblings.”

  Both men stared at her as she described only a small part of the maze that existed behind the walls and out of sight.

  “They will be searched,” Robert declared.

  “I don’t think that’s wise,” Elizabeth murmured. At Robert’s questioning look, she continued. “The passageways are meant to be secret. If ever needed, you and the queen should be assured they are safe from being used to enter the castle. If too many people discover their existence, then someone might share information that leads to an attack. Most people are under the impression Stirling is impenetrable, and it should stay that way. Besides, if more people learn about them, then more people can spy on you. Edward knows they are a tight fit, but I’d be able to lead him and Magnus and Tavish through the maze. With the tight confines, no one would get to me through them.”

  “Very well, if my brother agrees.” Robert looked at Edward and was uncertain Edward would agree, but after a moment, he nodded his head. “For now, let’s figure out where you can go. I plan for you to take the queen’s quarters tonight.”

  Elizabeth blushed but didn’t comment on the fact the king and queen would share a chamber that night. She’d been at court long enough to be aware it happened, but most certainly not every night. Edward nodded, but refrained from saying anything either. The three left the chamber, but only Elizabeth looked back. She sought to memorize every detail after realizing someone had breached their privacy.

  Chapter Twenty

  The king posted a watch on Elizabeth’s parents. They seemed unlikely culprits now that they assumed the attackers intended to harm Edward. The couple knew Edward wasn't traveling in the coach with Elizabeth, so if they had arranged it, the accident would mean Elizabeth was the only intended victim. His men found Duncan, the family’s longtime driver, several days after Elizabeth and Edward’s return, his head bashed open but still breathing. They discovered the man unconscious but eventually told the story of how two men attacked him, leaving him for dead in the carriage house. He saw their faces but had no idea who they worked for. Since both men perished in the accident, that seemed like a dead end. Edward vouched for the men who accompanied them to Culcreuch. He saw how they fought to defend their party. None appeared to aid the attackers nor hide from battle. Elizabeth’s mind only conjured one person who had a clear reason to be angry.

  Elizabeth avoided suggesting Sinead as the culprit until it seemed like they exhausted all the other potential suspects. Edward sensed Elizabeth considered his former mistress but didn’t want to speak of her. He had no desire to talk about his former lover with his wife, who at that moment carried their child. He also had to admit that Sinead looked more and more like the most likely perpetrator. Edward sent missives to his brother in Ireland asking how the campaign progressed and how Robert’s blood brother fared.

  A stack of folded parchments arrived one morning, and Edward recognized the handwriting as that of his brother in Ireland. Edward realized they had arrived some time ago. The first missive he opened turned his blood co
ld. His brother Edward described how Sinead went on a tirade when she not only realized he wouldn’t be returning from Scotland, but that he was instead pursuing a woman and he intended to marry her. One reason for Edward’s eagerness to leave Sinead behind was the fact that she’d hinted at them marrying. He never even considered it a possibility, despite his earlier thoughts that she might remain his mistress indefinitely. According to the missive, Sinead schemed to send her own spies to Robert’s court to learn what type of woman had stolen her man. Never mind the fact that she and Edward, Robert’s blood brother, had entered into their own arrangement, bedding each other every spare moment they had. Edward checked the date once more, still shaken that his brother sent it over a month before, having arrived while Edward was out scouting for Robert. He didn’t understand why his brother waited so long to send the missive, since he’d been in Scotland for the entire Advent season. It made him wonder how soon Sinead discovered his new plans. Had she known for weeks before her temper got the better of her? Did she learn of his new love interest weeks into his return to Scotland and only acted shortly before his brother’s missive?

  The next missive, dated a fortnight after the first, warned that Sinead had dispatched spies to Robert’s court. This, too, arrived while he was scouting for Robert. Edward cursed as he counted back how many weeks it had been since not only the missive arrived, but the number of weeks Sinead’s spies had to gather what she would consider incriminating evidence.

  The third missive saddened him but only for a heartbeat. It was dated only a sennight ago, after he’d sent his own missives. Sinead had flown into a rage when no useful information arrived to her beyond the fact that Edward had wed but been away from court. She stormed out of the tent she shared with Edward’s brother, a whisky bottle in hand, and ridden out along the coast. Even though her tantrums were well known and her sudden disappearances accepted, when she didn’t return after three days, they sent a search party out. They found the horse dead, its leg and neck broken, where it fell along a craggy cliff. The searchers found Sinead’s broken body washed up along the rocks, stuck among them so that the tide failed to carry her away. Edward’s moment of regret was that she wasted a life with so much potential. Sinead possessed not only beauty but intelligence. If she’d been a man, she would’ve led an army. However, life on the run, the years-long battle between the English and Irish had embittered her, and her anger at the hand life had dealt her made her temper volatile. Edward felt guilty that her death didn’t move him more, but it was as though he was learning of the death of a mere acquaintance, not of a woman he bedded for two years.

  Edward sat reading the missives in the queen’s chamber, where he and Elizabeth had been staying for more than a sennight. Elizabeth watched him from the corner of her eye as she sat in a window seat with her embroidery. She despised sewing, but it served as a silent pastime that gave her a chance to observe her husband and enjoy companionable silence. From the expressions that fluttered across his face, she guessed he was reading about Sinead. The page that delivered the messages announced they arrived from Edward in Ireland. She wondered if he would share any of the content. She practically pulsed with desperate curiosity but wanted to respect his privacy at the same time. She prayed he wouldn’t keep secrets from her, especially about Sinead. It made her stomach twist in knots as she feared the woman still had a hold on Edward.

  “She’s dead.”

  Elizabeth jumped at the deadpan comment. She hadn’t expected those words after Edward refolded the last piece of parchment. He looked squarely at Elizabeth, and she didn’t see any deception or even any remorse in his gaze. She set her embroidery aside and approached tentatively. When she came close enough, Edward pulled her into his lap and opened the first missive. He handed it to Elizabeth, but she looked uncertain until he encouraged her to read it. Just as Edward had done, she reread each one twice as he handed her one after another.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss, Eddie.” Elizabeth tried for a soothing tone, even though a larger part of her than she cared to admit was becalmed that the woman no longer had opportunity to be part of their lives.

  “Beth, I don’t feel any loss.”

  “But you must have cared about her quite deeply to remain with her for two years.”

  “What I cared about was how good she was in bed.” Edward regretted the words as soon as they flew out of his mouth. The pinched look on Beth’s face told him his words didn’t go over well. “Beth, I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Better to know that’s all you cared about than to worry you are grieving a woman you loved.”

  “I most definitely didn’t love her. I think most of the time I barely liked her. It would seem she might be behind all of this, and if that’s the case, then we are well rid of her. She may have directed her vengeance toward me, but she had no qualms about the danger she placed you in. She was fine with it. She probably thought of it as a boon.”

  Elizabeth nodded as she placed the missives on the table next to them. “Your brother doesn’t seem to grieve the loss either.”

  “I doubt he does. He’s never had long-lasting tender feelings about any woman, nor does he care for being tied to any one woman. That’s why his son, Alexander, is illegitimate. The pope gave Edward a dispensation to marry his son’s mother, Isabella, but Edward claims he never did. I doubt he’s lonely now either. He will have replaced Sinead.”

  “He sounds like a cad,” Elizabeth muttered.

  “He can be. But he’s as dedicated to the cause as Robert and doesn’t want any distractions. He’s close to being the High King of Ireland, and he won’t let a mistress stand in his way. He keeps his liaisons brief.”

  “Do you suppose Sinead’s death will stop the threat? It would seem that if she coordinated this, then her spies aren’t aware of her death. The bird and bath incident happened after she died, given how old your brother’s last missive was. It’s likely it was on the way when we discovered what they had done to our chamber. Do you think someone is still carrying out her orders, or will they stop once no new orders are issued?”

  “If someone is carrying out her orders, then they’ve some connection to Sinead beyond coins. If it were about money, they’d pocket the money and not need to work anymore.”

  “Are you familiar with anyone at court who might have ties to Sinead? I imagine there’d be a personal connection to whoever sides with a woman set on killing the king’s brother. Did she ever come here with you?”

  “No. She refused to leave Ireland, and I was glad to travel alone. I can’t come up with anyone other than my brother or me who is linked to her.”

  “Could one of her spies have some ties to you or your brothers or even someone else at court? Who could they be?”

  “That’s hard to say. An Irish noble, man or woman, would stick out at court just as much as the English knight does. But an Irish servant might blend in.”

  “While we can’t rule it out, it would seem that the timeline doesn’t fit for Sinead to be to blame for this. Then again, there haven’t been any more incidents since the time Sinead must have died.”

  “Aye. I agree though it would be nice to bring this to an end knowing that she can no longer sink her talons in me.”

  “What if you’re not off about an Irish servant as a spy, but it wasn’t Sinead who sent them? Maybe the Balliols who fled to Ireland? Would they strike out at you to hurt Robert?”

  “Possibly. But it would gain them little. While my death might pain Robert, it would do little to weaken his reign. If anything, Edward would be a better target as he commands the forces in Ireland and will soon be named High King. Killing me wouldn’t affect that or any of the power Robert has here in Scotland.”

  “But Robert already made you the Earl of Lochaber and Badenoch. It’s known now that you want to make your home in the Highlands. Do you suppose someone wants to prevent you from gaining too much power there? Might one of the clans be after you?”

  “That’s certain
ly possible.”

  Edward’s mind jumped to a person devious enough to plot his demise. His heart sank knowing what he’d have to share with Elizabeth. He just prayed his good intentions all those weeks ago would buy him some forgiveness.

  “I can think of a clan, and I can think of someone here. The Gregors hold a deep grudge that Robert is not only king but has pushed them aside. They’ve been relegated to less and less land despite their clan motto ‘Royal is my race.’ They are being repressed by the Campbells who insist upon expanding their holdings into a small empire. Robert allows it because the Campbells remain such strong supporters of his campaigns. A sept of the Gregors are the MacAdams.” This is where Edward wished his hypothesis could stop. From the hard set of Elizabeth’s mouth, he predicted that she already guessed the direction his thinking was taking him. “Lady MacAdams approached me after I met you for the second time. It was the night you disappeared in the music room. She tried to seduce me, but when I realized I couldn’t accept her or any other woman besides you, she sneered and claimed I would come crawling back to her. She tried one other time, but she realized I was still disinterested.”

  “How well acquainted with her were you?” Elizabeth bit out. She already knew the answer, but for some reason, she needed to hear it from Edward. She knew the pain would be self-inflicted.

  “It has been a few years, but I had more than one encounter.”

  “Encounter? That’s a rather innocuous word to mean you bedded her several times.” Elizabeth failed to keep the bitterness from her voice. Sinead was a faceless woman, but Lady MacAdams was a woman Elizabeth saw daily. She accepted there were others. But now, to have not only a name, but a face to put with Edward, her skin crawled and she wanted to cry.

  “Beth, look at me.” Edward eased her head toward him, and he canted his head to be in her line of sight even as she looked down. “It’s no secret there’s a double standard for men to bed whoever they want, that it’s expected of us. It never troubled me before. I also never imagined I would marry, so there was no one’s feelings to consider but the woman I was bedding. Even then, I didn’t worry much beyond making sure I satisfied them. I wish I’d made better choices, but I had no idea you would come into my life.”