Lockhart was in the corner, recounting the conversation he had overheard, gesturing widely toward the window.
“We were just coming to pick the lass up and bring her to the Queen fer more questioning when we heard the lady start to call Sutherland a bastard! I ken, ‘twas not very ladylike language, but it intrigued us to listen further. So we went and crouched beneath the window to discern the nature of the argument, and he just confessed everything!”
Rob leaned close to Kenna’s ear, making her skin tingle. “Lockhart’s going to be telling this story ‘til the day he dies.”
“And then he’ll request that it be carved on his tomb.”
Rob smiled and opened his mouth to form another taunt when the Queen’s voice called out over the thrum in the room.
“Laird and Lady Fraser, come over here.”
The Queen sat regally in one of the plush chairs, an advisor standing behind her with a collection of Sutherland’s parchments. He took the one she was currently holding and passed her another, whispering in her ear as her eyes studied the page. She was dressed in her nightclothes, a thin white cotton shift with thin blue ribbons tying the sleeves, but she was modestly covered by a golden robe embroidered with a fleur-de-lis pattern. Kenna wondered if it was a gift from her late French husband—a small token that reminded her of him.
Rob’s fingers entangled themselves with Kenna’s. They were so warm compared to her own. Together, they went forward to the Queen, each lowering their heads respectfully, both of their heartbeats quickening as they waited for her to pass judgment.
“‘It would seem that our dear Earl of Sutherland had quite the collection of letters. There were those he was yet to send as well as those he had received from Huntly and—” the Queen’s eyes shot up briefly to meet with Kenna’s. “—others.”
“Aye, Yer Majesty. When I found the letters, I saw the one from my brother. I can assure ye that I—”
Queen Mary held up a hand to stop her. “Are ye not yet sick of assuring me that ye ken nothing?”
Rob’s hand tightened around Kenna’s, or was it Kenna that was doing the squeezing? What would she have to do to get away from this woman? What would she have to do to prove herself?
“Do not look so nervous, the both of ye. I only mean to say that I do not need an explanation because I do not believe this to be something ye had knowledge of. Lockhart’s depiction of the conversation is more than enough to prove that ye and yer brothers were simply pawns in a much more complex game,” the Queen continued, her eyes casually drifting to where the three cups still sat, one tipped back to reveal silver, a second tipped back to reveal gold.
“Thank ye fer yer understanding, Yer Majesty,” Rob said with a relieved sigh, his grip on Kenna’s hand loosening ever so slightly.
“Sutherland was a fool. He should have burned these letters. There is more than enough written here to condemn each of them fer plotting against the Crown. Did ye ken that Sutherland and Huntly were cousins?”
Rob’s brow furrowed, “No, Yer Majesty.
“‘It would seem that very few did. It explains the mentioning of family in the letter we intercepted last night. I suppose it worked in both of their favors to keep the nature of their relationship as quiet as possible.”
Kenna felt a twist in her stomach. What a fool she had been. She had known of their relation. The Gordon and Sutherland families had come together years prior in marriage. She even had a vague memory of attending a feast at Strathbogie with her father when she was such a little lass, a feast where the Earl of Huntly had raised a glass to toast Clan Gordon and their cousins, Clan Sutherland. For all she knew, she had even seen the Earl of Sutherland once or twice in her youth. How worthless her mind was to forget something so important when she’d needed to remember it most.
She had never spent much time learning about clan politics and relations. In fact, she had gone out of her way to avoid those lessons as much as possible when she was growing up. Instead, she had focused her attention on what had been in front of her in Inverness, always keeping track of which merchants were fueding and which women were stepping out on their husbands. She had falsely imagined that this would be what her future husband would need her to know, always expecting, of course, to find herself wed to some Inverness-based merchant or second son of a distant laird.
Oh how wrong ye were, Kenna thought bitterly.
The man she ended up marrying could not care less about Inverness gossip, but the lessons she had avoided could have saved them both from unnecessary pain.
“There is much to do here and very little time to do it. I want to thank ye both fer the roles ye have played in rooting out the villainy in my court. I can assure ye that ye will both be rewarded for yer actions as soon as this situation with Clan Gordon is behind us. Lady Kenna, I will have ye tell me the story of what happened here tonight in yer own words, but ‘tis far too late fer such a thing now. Return to yer inn and get a wee bit of sleep. I’ll have someone fetch ye from the inn tomorrow.”
Kenna curtsied, grateful that she would have some time to process her thoughts before she attempted to speak them aloud. And, her mind drifting to the feeling of Rob’s warm hand still clutched in her own, maybe there would be time for other things.
Rob must have been of a similar mind because he gave her hand a quick squeeze, and a hint of his lopsided grin lit up his expression as they turned to leave the room.
“Not ye, Laird Fraser.”
“Yer Majesty?” Rob asked, turning back.
“Go and fetch yer men, only a few, fer ye must travel with as much speed as ye are able. Ye will rally with a few other men at the entrance to Aberdeen and ride with due haste fer Strathbogie Castle. Here is a royal order, affixed with my seal, demanding that the Earl of Huntly surrenders himself to ye. Ye will escort him here, to Aberdeen, where he will face charges of treason. Now that we have sufficient evidence against him, we have the opportunity to end this conflict before armies meet in the field.”
The advisor behind her fished a sealed parchment from his pocket and held it out. Around them, the room had grown silent in reverence of the Queen, all eyes staring fixedly at the exchange. How many weeks of traveling, sieges, and investigations had led to this one moment? The Earl of Huntly was no longer a question; he was a declared enemy of the Crown.
“‘Tis an honor to serve ye, Yer Majesty,” Rob said as he reached out to accept the parchment. He held it nervously in his hands before tucking it safely into his sporran.
The Queen’s lips twitched with a smile. “I am sure.”
No! Kenna’s mind screamed.
Rob was finally here beside her, his hand in hers. They were finally in a place where they could truly begin their relationship, and the Queen wouldn’t even give her one night before sending him out on a death march. He must have seen the rising anger in her eyes because he quickly nodded to the Queen and pulled Kenna from the room before she could begin to list the numerous reasons for her believing it to be a stupid idea.
“Why does it have to be ye?” Kenna asked with a whine as Rob whisked her out into the darkened streets.
“Why shouldn’t it be me?” Rob replied, flashing her a smile. “I’m as good of a warrior as anyone else—many would even say that I’m better.”
Challenge me with a question, Rob Fraser, and ye’ll get an answer.
Kenna cleared her throat before beginning to recite the long list of reasons that she had already started to form in her mind.
“Fer starters, ye have never been to Strathbogie Castle. Surely someone else in the Queen’s retinue of men has. Then, have ye considered that yer horses are too tired to make another long journey? Well, I have.”
Kenna continued her list all the way back to the inn, Rob’s face growing more and more stoic with every additional point she made.
When they finally approached the inn, Rob pointed at the door, but Kenna followed him to the stables instead, not quite done yet.
“Did ye ken that
there are cannons at Strathbogie? Big cannons, royal cannons—the kind that makes really big booms and even bigger craters in the ground.”
“Good to know.”
“Or did ye ken that Strathbogie—”
“Hold on just a moment, lass.” Rob turned and kicked at a large, dark mass in the hay.
With a yelp, the mass unfurled itself to reveal a man.
“What ye doin’ that fer?” Murtagh grunted.
“Go and get a few men who ye think are sober enough and rested enough for a hard ride. We’ve got orders from the Queen.”
“Aye, she finally letting us loose to be the wild dogs we are?” Murtagh jumped to his feet, a large smile on his face revealing all of the teeth he was missing.
“Aye, she did. Grab some supplies too. Oh, and make sure one of the men is Hugh.”
Murtagh ran off toward the inn with a strange canter of eagerness. Kenna would never understand why men were so eager to run off and get themselves killed.
“Ye even said it yerself; ye are tired,” Kenna admonished as Rob picked up the saddle and threw it over his horse’s back. “Do ye think that ye’ll do right by yer queen if ye are tired?”
“Oh lass, are ye that worried about me?”
“Do not flatter yerself so much.”
“If ye say ye are worried, I promise I’ll not tell a soul,” Rob said, turning and pulling her close, wrapping his muscular arms around her waist and locking her in place.
His face came closer, his lips barely brushing against hers as his green eyes searched her face, patiently waiting for a reply. Kenna tried to lean forward, to close the space between them, but Rob wouldn’t let her.
“Tell me that ye’ll worry about me,” Rob pressed again; this time, there was a trace of urgency to his voice. A need that made Kenna’s knees weak. How did he think she could talk when he was acting like this? She could barely even stand.
“Why do ye want me to?” she managed to murmur into the space between them.
His hands came up to cup her face. “I just wish to ken what is going on in that bonny head of yers, is all.”
“Must be good to wish fer something.”
“Ye’ll not tell me?” Rob pulled away ever so slightly, hurt in his eyes.
“I’ll tell ye, but only if ye beg me. Don’t ye laugh, Rob Fraser.”
“I canna help it, lass. I feel as if ye’ve robbed me of my best move.”
“Best move? Ye are such a—No, that is not the point. The point is that if ye wish to ken anything that is in my head, ye’ll need to beg for the privilege. And, in order to do that, ye have to come back to me, Rob Fraser. Ye have to come back safe and whole, or I’ll never tell ye anything, and I’ll not waste another thought on ye. Do ye understand?”
The laugh retreated from his lips. “Aye, I understand ye, lass.”
They kissed then. It was natural, and yet so far from that.
Is it natural to feel the world tip under yer feet? Kenna wondered.
“I’ve got to go, Kenna,” Rob said with a groan as he pulled away. “Ye’ll stay out of trouble while I’m gone?”
“I do not ken why ye are asking such a ridiculous question.”
Rob kissed her on the forehead, a slow, lingering kiss that etched itself into her skin.
“Quite reassuring. Goodbye, lass.”
Rob took the reins of his horse and walked from the stable, raising his hand in a quick wave as he went.
“Rob, one last thing.”
He stopped with a sigh and turned back to her.
“The Earl of Huntly’s bedchambers are in the round tower of the castle. I’ve only been to Strathbogie a time or two, but I remember that much. Ye ken, in case it comes up.”
Rob gave a nod, then Kenna watched him continue on his way.
Come back to me when ‘tis all over, Rob Fraser. Please, she prayed.
11
If men could learn how to bottle the gold of a Highland sunset, no one would ever be poor again, Rob thought.
It was one of those perfect Highland evenings, the kind that reminded him why he preferred the hills to a town. The soft light of sunset caught itself in the droplets left on the grass by a passing afternoon rain, covering the hills with scores of soft twinkles. Overhead, the few birds that were yet to fly south were flying in whirls and loops through the open sky, their peaceful songs filling the air as they enjoyed one of the last good days of fall. The temperature was cool, but not unbearable, which was perfect since the party could not risk lighting a fire.
Off in the distance, rising higher than the hills around it, was a monstrously large stone castle. It would just be one large square if it were not for the massive round tower that was rising up along its side as if in objection to the strict order of the rest. From the chimneys rose soft wisps of smoke, slowly swirling up into the air until it couldn’t be distinguished from one of the passing clouds.
From the hills far beyond the castle, Rob tracked the slow-moving sentries circling the outside of the castle walls, which seemed unusually uneven in height. Some parts even looked crumbled with disrepair.
Rob heard a few soft curses and the rustling of grass behind him. Hugh. His brother crawled up the last few feet of the hill, staying as low to the grass as he could before dropping to his stomach beside Rob. The rest of the men, a small party of twenty, were lower on the hill behind them, taking advantage of the slope of the hill to conceal their location from any in the castle who might cast a wayward glance in their direction.
Hugh took a swig from his flask, filling the air with the scent of whiskey.
“So, the Earl of Huntly is up in that tower?”
“‘Tis where his bedchambers are. Since he is such a righteous bastard, I imagine he won’t be off whoring or gambling all night.”
“And ye ken this how again?”
“It came to me in a dream. Christ, Hugh, how do ye think I ken?”
“And ye ken for certain that Kenna was telling ye the truth?”
“She has no reason to lie.”
“Other than the giant reason right in front of us. Strathbogie is the seat of her clan. Do ye really think she wants to see it raided and her clan chief arrested?”
“The lass has shown time and time again that she is more loyal to the Frasers and to the Crown than she is loyal to the Gordons. Even when everyone is set against her, including me, she has remained true. I’ll not be fool enough to doubt her again. How many times must we have this conversation?”
Rob couldn’t doubt her again. The bruise on his shin was still painful. He did not want to know what sort of damage her kick would do if directed elsewhere. Yet, despite his surety in Kenna, Hugh had been almost single-mindedly focused on trying to get Rob to have even a bit of doubt in her. The conversation always repeated itself, and Rob was sick of it.
“Look, I ken that so far she has been proven innocent, but that does not mean that she will always be,” Hugh muttered. “She could easily change her mind.”
“And why would she do that?”
“Well—” Hugh faltered. “Ye could end up killing her brothers, fer starters. Will she be so loyal to ye if she ken ye were the one who sent them to their graves?”
Rob stiffened. If John and Thomas Gordon were fool enough to go running from the safety of Inverness Castle, and the Queen’s forgiveness, to the doomed arms of the Earl of Huntly, then there would be little Rob could do to protect them. Kenna would understand. But would she forgive? Knowing her, she would be too stubborn to forgive.
“Quit trying to spoil my mood before a good fight.”
The brothers watched as the sunset turned to twilight, and they started their slow wandering down the hill once twilight faded to near darkness and the sentries could only be spotted by the slight speck of their torches.
The men stood as the brothers reached the bottom of the hill, each beginning to make their final preparations for the raid. Rob went and checked the knots on his saddle, making sure everything was tied down ti
ghtly and that nothing jangled or clanged when the saddle shook.
“Ye put yer good luck charm on?” Rob teased Hugh, who was tapping various places on his person to make sure all of his knives were in place.
Hugh had always been a strange one. Whether it was a hunt, a fight, or a lesson, he had always clung to bits of jewelry and other trinkets, claiming that they were the keys to his success rather than his own hard-earned talent. For a while, his trinket for a fight had been a small stone he had found on the ground in the sparring yard. Then, when that had failed him, it became a bit of ribbon that a serving lass had given him. Today, Hugh pulled out a small gold ring from his sporran. This had been Hugh’s charm for nearly two years. It had taken Rob a long time to realize that it had been a gift from Ellen, a gift given to him at the onset of their secret affair.
“I’m starting to think I’m overly superstitious. Damn thing hasna brought me as much luck as it ought these days.”
“Well, I’m sure ye’ll find something new soon.” Rob clapped his brother on the back and went to check in with the other men, going over the plan with them one last time as the darkness of the moonless night thickened around them, pressing away the last vestiges of the day.
At last, the men mounted their horses and rode to the top of the hill, confident that none would see them there on such a dark night. They had waited three days for a moonless night, hiding in the forest and taking turns to scout the castle while dodging the Gordons that roamed the hills around them. Most of the Gordons were, at least, already gone. The Earl of Huntly had already sent his army off to take a firm position between Strathbogie and Aberdeen, though he hadn’t gone out to join them yet himself. Maybe he was hoping to receive more news from Sutherland, not yet aware that his spy had been discovered.
The plan to raid the castle had been formed easily. Without knowing what they would find in the castle, it was hard to get too specific. But they figured out solutions for everything that they knew they would find, and then created a few unclear plans for the things they weren’t sure they would find. Each plan, though, ended the same way: get to the tower, find the Earl, get out.
Highlander's Haunted Past (Highlander's Seductive Lasses Book 1) Page 14