But since then he was so attentive, so charming …
All my time learning a courtier’s deft and wily ways so that none should have the better of me, and for what! The ride over his lands yesterday, the dancing, his compliments. And then tonight—the fine food, the music, Colyne coaxing her into the hall…
This man played me like a pipe. God’s bones, but I am a fool!
Ladies at court, higher-born women with more power and better sense than she, had lost reputation and honor for a tumble with a handsome lover.
If word of this reached her family or Queen Joan’s court—
Isabella allowed Mary to settle her in bed, and slipped under the quilts. She let out her breath slowly, willing herself to calm. His seed was still sticky between her thighs.
But to what purpose would Colyne do this? To prevent my marriage to Douglas? To embarrass the queen? He hates the king—did he hope I would love him enough to spy?
When Mary drew the curtains around the bed, Isabella called, “You are not to leave this room, Mary!” He is not likely to return tonight, if he has to climb over you.
“Yes, my lady,” came Mary’s tremulous reply.
Isabella turned on her side and crinkled her nose in disgust. His scent lingered in the bedclothes. She would have a bath in the morning, she decided, and have these sheets washed.
There would be no evidence, no reminder, of what had happened. Unless …
No.
What if he had got her with child?
Isabella covered her mouth to keep from crying out.
No, no, no. It was only the once. Surely it took more than that? Men sometimes took years to get a wife with child. Isabella knew there were charms, tied cords hidden in the bedclothes to prevent the making of a child, but she had done none such thing.
Was there anything to be done now? She had known one lady who swore by hard pissing after the act. No, something else…something the Duchess whispered about to stop the making of a child—
“Mary!” Isabella cried, already pushing aside the curtains. “I want a bath!”
Mary stared at her round-eyed. “A bath, my lady?” The girl glanced toward the window at the darkness outside. “But it will take time to heat the water.”
“Wake the kitchen staff if you must! Have some men bring a tub to me straightaway! I want the water near hot enough to scald!”
“My lady, most have found their beds already.” Mary’s hands twisted in her skirts. “Besides, ye’ll catch yer death gettin’ yer hair wet at this hour.”
“And you will wish for death if you do not do as you are told!”
The castle folk would think her odd to demand a bath at this hour. Would they suspect something had happened? Should she wait?
Given a choice between a flame-haired infant and the folk here thinking her peculiar, she would take the latter.
“Go!” Isabella shoved the girl toward the door.
Mary scurried away to do her bidding and Isabella set to pacing again.
While Mary ran about to arrange the bath, Isabella discovered the tiny dots of blood on her thighs but thankfully none on the sheets or her chemise. She distracted the girl as she climbed into the tub. With fresh fear of discovery, Isabella washed herself quickly. The water was tepid at best and she was shivering and miserable by the time she stood for Mary to dry her.
Mary built up the fire to a blaze, but it was long past midnight and likely near Matins when Isabella’s hair had dried enough by the fire for her to find her bed. She fell into sleep only to dream of the vision again.
The fire blazed. She knew him! Traitor! You would kill your king? He brought the knife down and the pain exploded in her chest…
Isabella started awake. Her hands held protectively against the blow, she was breathing hard as the last echoes of the vision faded.
She groaned as she sat up. She almost preferred her nightmare to the very real horror she faced awake.
How could she hold her head up before him—or any of the castle folk?
She remembered thinking how different the company was when they sat down in the great hall, at first so subdued and playing at refinement. Had Colyne coached them on how to behave? Were they privy to what he intended to do?
How could she bear seeing knowing eyes at every turn? She woke Mary, who seemed as exhausted as she. She set the girl to building up the fire and stood yawning as Mary helped her dress.
Only the sight of Kat sitting up could have brought joy, however faint, to Isabella.
Kat looked better by scores, a steaming cup in her hand, color in her cheeks and a sparkle in her eye again. She was thinner, paler, but a truer semblance of her old self.
William was awake as well, and sitting up. Caitrina busied herself with her herbs and her mood, too, was bright.
“See now,” William nodded to Isabella, “there is your lady! You can cease with your hand wringing and fretting, Mistress Katherine!”
Katherine waved her hand at him as if shooing an insect.
“Pay him no mind, poppet. I doubt any do.”
William harrumphed. “I am a rising star in King James’s court, I will have you know.”
Kat lifted an eyebrow. “As long as something of yours can still rise.”
William sputtered at the implication and Kat threw a coquette’s smile his way, which even Isabella could see took him unawares.
Had she not been so heartsick, Isabella would have laughed.
Kat’s smile vanished when she met Isabella’s eyes.
“Why, poppet, what’s the matter?”
Isabella was acutely aware of William and Caitrina’s presence and their now-curious gaze on her.
“Verily, it is nothing. A headache only. I slept poorly again.”
In an instant Caitrina was by her side, feeling her head for fever, checking her throat. “Is your stomach delicate as well?”
“No,” Isabella said shortly.
Was she also a part of her brother’s plan? These people had great hatred for the king, after all.
Odd, how much that thought pained her. Isabella was in awe of Caitrina’s knowledge and respected her a great deal. Isabella had liked the Scotswoman as well and considered her a friend.
No longer. I have no friends here, and will trust none save Kat.
“Ye have nae fever,” Caitrina murmured, frowning. “I can brew ye somethin’ for the headache.”
“Do not trouble yourself. I am sure the headache will pass soon after I break my fast.”
“’Tis nae trouble! And Malcolm will tell ye that I can cure a headache or hangover like nae other!”
The Scotswoman was already on her way to her herbs, and set herself to the task of brewing her headache cure.
She dared not trust Caitrina now, but if there were ways to prevent a child, she would wager Caitrina knew them.
To know as much as Caitrina, and to be so useful, how satisfying a life that must be. Her mood darkened further. Mayhap that is why her brother has sired no bastards.
“Come sit by me, poppet,” Katherine urged, extending her hand toward Isabella. “Tell me all that’s happened while I mended.”
Isabella felt herself flinch and she hoped William, on the other side of the room, and Caitrina, busy brewing, did not mark her expression as she sat beside Kat’s bed.
She quickly assumed the mask of merriment and untroubled thoughts that she knew so well. “Oh, you have missed little, Kat. I have been around the castle so many times that I believe I must know every curve and every stone! I dined with the castle folk and danced a bit. Verily, I cannot abide the cold here! Tell me, Sir William, is the air so chill at Perth?”
“I should think it a bit warmer, my lady,” Sir William said. “It sits on the river Tay and that may account for it.”
“I wonder, Sir William, does that river ever freeze?” Isabella asked with false brightness. “Do you recall, Kat, the year the Thames froze and the court held a winter masque on the ice? There was a carnival with tent
s and bowls, minstrels and mummers! Do you remember, we walked on the river, all the Duchess’s ladies dressed as snow maidens?”
“Hmm, yes, I do,” replied Kat, a tiny furrow still marring her brow. “’Twas a merry festival that year and you a pretty snow maiden, my pet.”
“The Tay does, some years, freeze, my lady,” Sir William replied courteously. “I expect you may look forward to many such winter festivities as lady-in-waiting to Queen Joan. And now, I do beg your pardon, but,” he continued, making a pained face as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, “I must regain my feet.”
“Perhaps you should not rush so,” Isabella said.
“Pshah,” Sir William replied, somewhat gruffly. “I walked to the stair and back yesterday. I have dawdled abed overlong methinks.”
“Hmm,” Katherine put in. “I do not believe I have ever heard a man say such in my hearing before.”
Caitrina giggled at Katherine’s comment and Sir William’s face flushed.
Inwardly Isabella cringed, immediately thinking of Colyne’s hasty retreat from her bed. Part of his bargain with Alisoun? That he would not linger abed with me, once his goal was met?
“I do not doubt the men of your acquaintance to be of the piddling sort and easily overtaxed by rigorous sport, madam,” William said.
“Certainly I agree I have found many men lack the rigor I so anticipate, Sir William.”
Sir William wavered a bit, looking unsteady on his feet and dressed only in his long shirt.
Caitrina left the infusion to brew. “Perhaps Lady Isabella is right, ye should have nae hurry to be up and about sae soon.”
“Nonsense,” Sir William replied stoutly, straightening his shoulders. “I am a gentleman in the service of Queen Joan. I must rebuild my strength so that I may perform my duties as Her Majesty would expect.”
“There is no speaking to him, you know,” Katherine said to Caitrina. “The man is half donkey.”
“Better half donkey, madam,” Sir William shot back, “than all harpy!”
Katherine gave a theatrical gasp, holding her hand to her heart. “Do you hear how he speaks to me, poppet?” She sighed and waved her hand dismissively. “Well, I suppose ill humor is to be expected at such an advanced age.”
Even in her heartache Isabella could not help but smile.
Seeing that Sir William was determined, Caitrina helped him finish dressing. He was plainly in discomfort by the time she was done and struggling not to show it.
His jaw was set though, and he made slow, determined steps to the fireplace, where he paused to rest, his face pale and shiny with perspiration. “Easier than I expected. I shall be myself again in no time.”
Kat rolled her eyes. “I’faith, Sir William, do you wish to be yourself again, if there is some small chance you could be someone else?”
Sir William turned stiffly to face her. “On our return to court, madam, I shall recommend you to join His Majesty’s army on the battlefield in France. Even the dead would rise to escape your company. Strategically placed, you would drive our enemies into the sea and bring us victory unimagined!”
With that he seemed to summon all dignity and strength at his disposal and limped from the room.
Katherine shook her head, almost fondly. “You would think the man could not walk with a metal rod up his backside, and yet, he does!”
“Kat,” Isabella admonished. “You are too harsh to him. He does not know you but tease.”
Katherine waved it off. “I have worked a miracle, poppet. He could lie in bed feeling pain and growing weaker or he can grit his teeth and prove me wrong by regaining his strength. And that man would take any action that would prove me wrong.” She lifted herself farther from the bed and outstretched her hand to Isabella as Caitrina rushed over. “And I cannot allow him a moment’s advantage over me. Help me up, poppet. I need be about too, or he will never let me forget he was the stronger!”
Neither Caitrina nor Isabella could dissuade her now that she was determined. Kat would be dressed and that was all there was to it. Once she was, however, she fatigued and was persuaded not to go farther than the great hall for her first foray. Katherine walked slower and with more care than usual, but the three women arrived in the great hall with little difficulty. Katherine sighed with relief as Isabella and Caitrina helped her onto the bench.
Isabella dreaded meeting with the castle folk. Even the lowest scullion must have heard about the laird’s conquest by now.
Mary poured ale and had the bread and cheese at the ready. Isabella glared into her face, almost challenging her to speak, but the girl blinked at her, looking very like a frightened sheep.
Kat took a long draft of the ale offered her.
“Ah, now that is welcome. I have too long been in that room.” Kat shivered. “I do see what you mean about the cold, poppet!”
“The sickroom is kept quite warm,” Isabella said, glancing this way and that at the few in the great hall. Some she remembered from last night’s revelry. They nodded to her and she narrowed her eyes at them.
“I hear the castle made merry last night,” Caitrina said. “I canna say how many were nursing a headache come dawn.”
“Did they make merry, poppet?”
“I really could not say,” Isabella responded. “I found the company tiresome and retired early.”
“Did ye?” Caitrina asked, frowning. “Colyne was all a whirl to make everythin’ to yer liking, and scolded the clansmen to behave. He chose everything, even the music, himself.”
“He should not have bothered. I did not mark anything of note yesterday eve. Verily, the whole enterprise seemed infinitely dull.”
Caitrina’s frown deepened and she opened her mouth, but Katherine spoke first.
“Ah, here is Sir William coming now!” Katherine said, almost preening. She frowned as he approached. “God’s bones, I have never seen him in such a temper!”
Sir William made his way into the room, his movements rigid. His color was high, his eyes nearly snapping in anger.
“Why Sir William, what’s the matter?” Kat asked in alarm.
William addressed Mary. “Fetch your lord, girl!” he ordered, and then turned and fixed his gaze on Isabella, trembling with outrage. “The scoundrel has much to answer for!”
Mary went running from the hall in search of her laird.
Isabella’s breath came in quick, shallow gasps.
God’s blood, are they talking of it in the courtyard? Was every detail of the bedding repeated for the amusement of the kitchen boys and the scullery maids?
William refused to answer any of Kat’s questions as they waited. He would not sit, nor drink. The fingers of his right hand curled and uncurled as if he itched for his sword.
Many of the clansmen and servants lingered about. None wished to miss whatever excitement was to come and they murmured among themselves.
Kat sought Isabella’s gaze, her expression puzzled. Caitrina’s eyes were on her, too. Nails bit into Isabella’s palm as she struggled to stop herself from running from the room.
To be humiliated like this before all!
The room went quiet when Colyne entered.
Isabella’s heart thundered in her chest. She swallowed, fearing she would shame herself further by being sick.
He was scowling, his jaw taut. He came to the center of the room and stopped and stood with his arms crossed over his chest. He glared at them all from under russet brows.
“Ye wished to treat with me, English?” he snapped at William. “Go on, then!”
Sir William squared his shoulders, two spots of red coloring his cheeks.
“I have heard through common castle gossip of your despicable behavior!”
Isabella swallowed hard. God’s blood, she would sooner have thrown herself into the loch below than suffer this!
Colyne’s gaze flicked to her. She clasped her hands to hide their shaking.
“Despicable, is it?”
“Do you deny it?�
� Sir William demanded.
“Nae, I dinna deny it.”
William’s gaze narrowed, his right hand opening and closing again. “You gave your word Lady Isabella would be treated with all honor as befits her birth. You are a baseborn wretch, sirrah!”
“Yer nae so old or ill that ye can speak to me so without answering for it. Nor will I offer ye apology for what’s none of yer concern.”
Sir William’s nostrils flared. “It is not to me that you should beg forgiveness but to this sweet lady—”
Isabella shrank back as all eyes turned toward her.
“—this sweet innocent that you have so wronged!”
“I will nae explain meself in me own hall! ’Tis nae yer business!” Colyne’s fury turned on the clansmen who shifted uncomfortably under his glare. “Nor yers!”
“That you would act so to a young woman in your protection is abhorrent,” William pointed at Colyne. “But to offer such disrespect to our queen is paramount to treason!”
Isabella blinked. Was William feverish again? He was talking madness!
Colyne stared at him. “The queen? Ye think I—what are ye on about, man?”
“You have made no attempt to contact Her Majesty!”
“What?” Isabella blurted.
“Our queen awaits news of her cousin and yet you have not sent to her? There is no word to ease her mind? Two of your men”—he waved toward Angus and Malcolm—“were discussing it openly!”
The two men named shifted, their expressions sheepish.
Isabella clasped the table edge, shaking with relief. The ransom, that’s what William was on about.
Then she frowned. He had not sent to the queen? Did no one of the court know she was held prisoner here? Wait, he said he had! She was sure he did!
“Our sovereign lady has no word that her cousin yet lives!” William continued. “And this sweet maiden anguishes as prisoner in this cold, wretched fortress.”
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