Again, the crowd broke into a rumble. Noblemen faced each other and nodded their approval at his words. James watched for those most animated.
“As it is, Fergus MacKay, your clan has been accused of murder, rape, destruction of property and many lesser charges too numerous to mention. I hereby release you of all charges laid against you, as per undeniable evidence presented to me.”
That statement was followed by dead silence then erupted into jeers and shouts.
“What’s this? Will you have me condemn innocent countrymen?” The king demanded an answer from the crowd.
Kenneth MacKenzie yelled back. “But their banner was found,” he said. “They did the deed!”
The man looked years older than he was. The attack had taken its toll. James held his breath. Any moment, they would know. They had better. The king was not likely to hold his patience for much longer and this deadly game was far from over.
The Stewart’s penetrating gaze roamed the crowd until it rested on James. He nodded. The trap was set. “I have information convincing me neither Fergus MacKay nor his clansmen are responsible for the crimes against clan MacKenzie.”
Various clan representatives declared their belief in Fergus’s innocence. It was more interesting to watch those insisting on the man’s guilt. After a few moments, Alexander MacDonald rose. He looked enraged with his red cheeks and wild hair.
“Good King, if you choose to let these traitors go free, you condemn all the other Highland clans to the same possible fate. You cannot expect us to abide by your English laws if you do not protect us with them as well.”
MacDonald. He turned to see the king’s reaction. The man’s entire demeanour had changed from calm to dangerous in a split second. He knew what it was to be pinned by that man’s glare and he didn’t envy MacDonald.
“Laird MacDonald, you believe letting the MacKays go free will condemn you to the same fate? Surely a large clan like yours is not afraid of a dozen men?”
MacDonald spat on the floor. “There were more than a dozen men!”
The king grasped the arms of his throne. He looked ready to spring.
“More than a dozen you say? How on earth would you possibly know that?”
The king glanced sideways and nodded to the captain of his guard. That signal prompted about twenty of his men to position themselves around the MacDonald clan. A great number more of them were present than any other.
“’Tis what everyone has said.” MacDonald’s gaze shifted between the king and Fergus Mackay. “The attack was too brutal to be carried out by only a dozen Scots.”
“You’re correct in your assessment, MacDonald. It wasn’t carried out by just a dozen Scots. They had help in planning the whole affair. Do you happen to know of anyone who might want to attack MacKenzie and blame Mackay?”
Colour drained from MacDonald’s face. Gasps were heard around the room. The few Sutherlands in the room were also surrounded.
“Oh, I see that you do.” The king’s tone was silky. “The question remaining is why would the MacDonalds and Sutherlands enter into such a plot?”
Shock at the implication was audible. James was impressed with the king’s direction. Whispers of ‘Sutherlands?’ swept the room.
“It is interesting to note that, your men do not appear as surprised at my suggestion as most others here today. I believe you may know all about this plot, MacDonald, although I don’t believe you’ll tell me today. However, let’s see how some time in my dungeon loosens your tongue. Take them out of my sight!”
The clan members did not struggle or fight back as they were herded out of the room. The king turned his attention to Fergus and regarded him evenly.
“Laird MacKay, you and your men are free to go.”
At that moment, a young man burst into the room. He was travel-worn and distraught. He went straight to Fergus, but spoke to the king with his head bent in submission. “Your Majesty, I have terrible news to report to Fergus.”
“Of course, lad. You look like you’ve seen the devil himself.”
The lad turned to Fergus and blinked several times. His mouth opened and closed again like a fish gasping for its last drop of life. “Your brother did as you bade, Fergus. He tracked as far north as he could to watch their activity. We were near their lands, they must have detected us and set a trap.” He paused and shuffled. “They took us by surprise, Fergus. We didn’t expect them to be waiting. But, wait they did. At the first sign of us, they attacked. William was in front.” The young man’s voice fell to almost a whisper. “It all happened so fast. They took off and we couldn’t catch up. We heard screams that night—I’m sorry Fergus.”
Fergus made a small movement toward the lad and within seconds four of his clansmen were on him. Did the boy recognize how close he had just come to death? His wide eyes and pale skin indicated he probably did.
James stepped in between Fergus and the boy. “MacKay, you’ll not touch the lad.” James was in no mood to take on this giant, but take him on he would. He’d risked too much to save this man’s neck to see him throw it away again. Fergus could do as he please away from the king’s clutches, but here with so many witnesses, there’d be no way to save him from the noose.
James’s words managed to reach the warrior. Fergus stopped struggling and shook off the other men before stalking out of the hall with the boy and his men laying chase.
Godspeed, Fergus MacKay.
James turned back to the king. “How did you know it was MacDonald?”
“Let’s just say something you said two days ago set me thinking. Who would have the most to gain if I falsely accused a Highland clan of such a deed? Two years ago, I imprisoned MacDonald for legitimate crimes against the Crown. I let him go out of good will eventually. I’ve had him watched for some time, but obviously not close enough.
“The MacDonalds plotted my overthrow. If he could’ve convinced enough of the Highland clans to rise up against me, well, MacIntosh, I don’t have to tell you what the end result of that would be, do I? You unravelled the plot. You just didn’t know who was responsible. The two questions I still have though are, why MacKay, and why MacKenzie? My God, the atrocities inflicted on those poor people can never be reasoned. It’s that precise kind of act performed in the name of feuding that I cannot abide. I don’t believe even you, whom I regard as a noble gentleman, could justify it.”
James considered the man’s words. Although correct in theory, actual Highland life was much more complex. He couldn’t deny who he was and he was not about to engage in debate with the king about it.
“And you’re certain MacDonald is responsible? Outside of his peculiar behaviour here today, what other indication do you have?”
“I’ve received enough intelligence from trusted sources to verify Alexander MacDonald’s hatred of me has not diminished in two years. A few months back, prior to the Mackenzie attack, I received an anonymous letter indicating he was meeting with Artair Sutherland. Unable to conger any logical reason for such a relationship, I disregarded it until you arrived with the plaid pin. Considering where you found it, your story fit with the timing of the letter and the events that subsequently transpired. MacDonald’s behaviour here today merely secured my suspicions. Of course, he will have to be questioned.”
James noticed the glint in the king’s eyes. It was time to shake hands and thank him for his fairness and put the troubling business behind him.
The king smiled, shook James’s hand and walked away. “One more thing,” the king stopped and turned his head, “Moray correct?” James did not get a chance to reply. “It’s yours. I will divert to your schedule for proper ceremony after your honeymoon.” He invited James and his party to dine with him back at Linlithgow Palace later that evening to discuss the details.
As they walked out of the castle toward the courtyard, a frightened stable hand approached them with information that the MacKay had just rode off on Arion.
Calum burst out laughing. James had no choic
e but to share a horse with his brother.
“Shut up, Calum.”
* * *
After James left to attend the trial, Aileana thought of a hundred things she wished she’d said to him. How could she help but feel anxious? If the king found Fergus guilty, James would likely be imprisoned as well. Had she thought of anything other than bedding James, she would have spoken with the king and begged for Fergus’s freedom and James’s security.
“Aileana, you must believe your husband and his brother will return safely. I’m certain all will be well.” Gwen had joined her just after the men had left and bless her she tried, but only James’s safe return would comfort her.
“How do you know that? Really, how do you know they weren’t all thrown into the dungeon the moment they arrived?”
“If I thought reciting flower names would ease you, I’d surely have reached viola by now. You really should calm yourself, Aileana, it’s not good for you.” Gwen’s voice lowered and she frowned. “I’m worried too.” Her fingers endlessly linked and unlinked.
“I know you are, and I’m sorry we’re having this discussion instead of the one I know you want to have, but I’m so frightened this will go so horribly wrong.”
She wanted to know every detail about Gwen’s evening with Calum, but she just couldn’t seem to focus on anything other than the danger they were in.
Gwen swiped her cheek. “Will it help if I tell you how disastrous my night ended?”
The comment was unexpected as was her solemn demeanour. She noted the dark, puffy circles under Gwen’s eyes and imagined her friend had endured a sleepless night.
“We sat together through the wedding feast, as you know,” Gwen said.
She did know. Calum looked nowhere other than at Gwen the entire evening.
“He introduced me to other noblemen and ladies as if I were any other lady there instead of a servant. We danced, it was beautiful. He was furious when Jocelyn spoke against me. He made me feel important, and he was so taken up with me I thought, surely this can work.”
Gwen paused and moved to the open window. A long lonely cry from a far away bird echoed through the room.
“We were the last to leave the hall. We walked back to my room arm in arm where he kissed me so passionately.” Gwen’s voice cracked and she placed her hand over her heart. “We moved into my room and I honestly thought he was going to make love to me right then and there. I was ready. I would have done anything he asked, but instead he wanted to talk. He explained how he’d never been with a woman before and how pleased he was to share such an important experience for the first time with me.
Gwen’s laugh held no mirth. “You know my history. You can imagine how torn I was, having to tell him he wasn’t my first. Worse, he wasn’t even my second or third.”
Just how many lovers had she been with?
“Three, if you must know.” She looked apologetic. “I see the question in your eyes. I’ve been with three other men, obviously some more than once. I told Calum in the gentlest way I could that my opinion on the subject was different from his. I explained that my experience would help me choose my future husband.
“As you can imagine, he doesn’t understand. I’ve lost him. How stupid was I to hope someone like him could ever love someone like me? He called me names I’ve never been called before. Maybe he’s right, maybe I don’t deserve the sanctity of marriage after all my affairs.”
It wasn’t fair. Gwen had made decisions Aileana didn’t understand, but they were hers to make and it wasn’t right for Calum to judge her without hearing them.
“Don’t deserve the sanctity of marriage? My dear Gwen, how many women do you suppose my husband has been with before me? I would suspect the number is much larger than three. Why should the standard be so different for women? You must give him some time to absorb your confession as I’m sure it wasn’t what he expected. I can speak with James if you wish. Surely we can confront Calum and make him see sense?”
Gwen said nothing only gazed through the window.
Aileana’s thoughts drifted back to daybreak. She had awakened to find James sitting up in bed with his legs swung over the side, holding her gown in one hand and several satin buttons in the other. The sight of her naked husband intending to fulfill his promise, though she was sure he didn’t know how, stirred her desires.
Aileana moved behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest while trailing kisses down his neck.
“I wouldn’t start that, wife, if you want your dress fixed before I go.”
“You don’t know how.” Aileana’s teasing drew a cocky smile to his lips. What was once despised, she now craved.
She took the dress and buttons out of his hands, placed them on the floor and scooted in front of him to straddle his hips.
Warm ripples spread through her at the memory of the passionate lovemaking that followed. James MacIntosh had come to mean everything to her in such a short time and he felt the same way about her. Her heart was near bursting. Two people who enjoyed the kind of physical passion they shared, must possess deep feelings for one another.
What about Calum and Gwen? Didn’t they also appear to have feelings for each other? Couldn’t those feelings overcome any obstacle? How important was James’s past to their relationship? She remembered the jealousy, thinking of James with another woman - Calum must feel the same way. Therefore, Gwen must mean a great deal to him. If he was ready to become intimate with her, did that mean he intended to marry her? Why should her past matter if he loved her?
A loud noise outside the room gained her attention. It sounded like a struggle. She motioned for Gwen to use the side door hoping she could find out what was going on. A guard was posted out there and by the muffled sounds coming through her door, she assumed he was being attacked - but by who?
Seconds after Gwen closed the side door, Gawain burst through the other. Her heart leapt up into her throat and for a few moments she couldn’t even utter his name.
“Well, my love we meet again,” he said, his voice low and menacing.
Aileana was horrified at the sight of him. Deep crimson splatters stained his shirt, his eyes were excited and wild. His face twisted into an attempted smile, but his deformed jaw prevented it from holding. Only his voice held any note of the former man.
Why did he carry a quiver of arrows slung across his back? “You—you’re an archer?”
“Arrowsmith. It was the easiest way to gain access to the palace.”
“But what are you doing here?”
“Why, I’ve come for my bride.” Gawain stepped forward. “We’ll be married by sundown and after our glorious wedding night, will return to my castle. Aileana, I must tell you, I’m disappointed in you. You’ve made it difficult for me to claim my inheritance. You understand, I’ll have to punish you. Oh don’t worry; like mine, the scars will heal in time.”
She tried to force air into her lungs to scream, but her breath caught and her blood pounded in her ears. Gawain took a few menacing steps toward her and as he did she stepped backward keeping perfect time with his forward movement.
“Come to me my love.” He taunted her, like a wildcat stalking its prey. “I have a need to see the body beneath all your layers of finery. We needn’t wait for a priest’s blessing to consummate our union. I intend to show you what your stir in me right now.”
Her gut lurched. He couldn’t mean it.
Oh God where is Gwen?
As he moved closer, the thick copper scent of blood caused her body to convulse with the urge to retch. She looked around, frantic for escape. He had backed her into the room and could overtake her should she attempt to dash for either exit. Perhaps if he knew the truth, he could be reasoned with.
“Gawain, I’m already married.” She managed her confession through trembling lips.
Her words hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity.
The wildcat had stalked enough. He pounced on her, knocking her to the floor. Gawain grabbed the
sides of her head and slammed her skull onto the stone tile. White hot pain raced down her spine and the room spun in sickening circles.
Oh God.
Slam!
The agony inside her head was unbearable. His fists were full of her hair which she was sure he would rip it out.
I’m going to die.
Slam!
I love you, James.
Sounds faded. Blackness drew closer, dulling the pain in her head, the sound of his cursing and the sight of his monstrous face above her. At long last, the void consumed her.
Chapter Twenty
Near Peebles, Scotland, August 1430
Aileana bent low over a patch of wild strawberries, smiling at her discovery. These would please him. Her basket was almost full of apples and she couldn’t wait to get home to start the pie.
Bending and standing had a dizzying effect after a while. She was almost done anyway, just a couple more berries would do the trick. She leaned over and searing pain shot through her temple.
“Help!” She managed to yell while falling to her knees. “Help,” she whispered, just before she fainted.
Aileana blinked several times before recognizing where she was. Her quilts were tucked around her and the smell of rabbit stew and burning peat eased her tension. She smiled at her husband when he placed a cool cloth on her head.
“Are you feeling better my love?” he asked.
Aileana looked into his eyes; he had cared for her tirelessly these past months. He loved her so much.
She had no memory of anything before the accident. Gawain had told her of their courtship and how, because of her uncle’s greed, she was to be married off to a vicious chief. He said their love for one another prompted them to run away and live here in the forest, far away from her uncle’s clutches.
“I’m well. Thank you.”
She sat up to see if the throbbing had passed. It had. Gawain watched her before moving away to the table to continue going through some papers he had stacked there.
“I wonder—”
“Aileana, I’ve told you it’s not safe for you to go back there.” He cut her off like so many times before. “I know you want to remember, but I fear, even if we were careful, someone would recognize us and you would be forced into the hands of that beast. I simply couldn’t bear the thought of him touching you.”
Bound to the Highlander (The Highland Chiefs Series) Page 21