Margaret left and Rose was thankfully surrounded by quiet and peace. She curled up on her bed and wrapped a blanket around her. To her surprise, before she could even begin to sort through her thoughts, she fell asleep.
She was awakened abruptly when the door to her chambers banged open and one of Mary’s guards came charging in.
Chapter 25
It was Bothwell.
There weren’t enough curse words in Will’s vocabulary to convey his anger, shock and fear.
Good Lord, the other man in those secret meetings Will and Rose had overheard was Lord Bothwell.
Bothwell, one of Mary’s most trusted advisors. No, he was Mary’s most trusted advisor. Mary relied on Bothwell for nearly everything. Bothwell oversaw Mary’s safety. Bothwell oversaw peace in Scotland. Bothwell was the gatekeeper to Queen Mary. No one got in to see her unless Bothwell approved it. He was slowly, quietly gaining power until he was the one running the country behind closed doors.
And now Bothwell was part of the plot to kill Lord Darnley.
Bothwell had the most to gain from Darnley’s demise.
With Darnley conveniently out of the way, Bothwell had a clear path to the crown by marrying Mary.
Will needed to tell Rose. He wanted to get her thoughts on all of it, but tonight was the damn masquerade ball and he couldn’t find her anywhere. He’d been forced to don his formal attire to get into the ballroom to search for her.
Professional dancers were performing amidst the conversations and laughter of the others. He had no idea what Rose would be wearing and so began his search for Rose, Emma and the other one. He couldn’t remember her name. The one Rose shared a bedchamber with.
Margaret.
Where Emma and Margaret went, so did Rose. Unless she was with him or Lysle.
He wove in and out of pockets of women, whispering and talking, of men, standing around looking bored, of servants who were doing their own dodging and weaving through the crowd.
He reached the far end of the ballroom without glimpsing Rose but as far as he knew he could have passed her half a dozen times and not known it because everyone was wearing those blasted masks. Instead of searching through the women he began searching for Lysle. Like a dog in heat Lysle usually wasn’t too far behind Rose.
An irrational fear drove Will faster through the room.
She was here somewhere with a silly mask over her beautiful green eyes, hiding her vibrant hair and laughing with her friends.
She was here.
She was.
He finally found Margaret and grabbed her arm more forcibly than necessary. She squeaked and tried to pull away.
“Whatever…Lord Sheffield?”
“Where is Rose?”
Margaret glanced around nervously, and he realized he was making a fool of himself. He dropped his hand from her elbow and took half a step back.
“Margaret, please tell me where Rose is. It’s imperative that I find her.”
Her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. “This is highly irregular.”
He had to rein in his frustration to keep himself from grabbing and shaking her.
“Please,” he whispered.
Her shoulders drooped and she passed a hand over her eyes, then whipped her mask off. “I don’t know where she is. She was supposed to meet with Emma and the rest of us earlier this afternoon to make our masks for the ball but she never arrived. I’d thought she was tired from her audience with the queen. She seemed upset—”
“What audience with the queen?”
She looked surprised at the interruption. “She met with Queen Mary to ask her permission to visit her family after the baptism.”
“She wanted to return home?”
Margaret shrugged. “That’s what she said.”
But it didn’t make sense. They’d discussed her returning home and she’d admitted that her mother would never allow it. Had she regretted making love that much that she wanted to flee the palace?
His heart sank. He knew he should have told her no, held strong. But he was powerless against her, and he’d wanted to make love to her so badly that he was powerless against his own resolve, too.
He felt as if a great hole had opened up inside of him and swallowed all of his soul. The measure of loneliness that he always lived with was nothing compared to thinking of the rest of his days without Rose.
She’d told him she loved him and he’d been a fool to not say it back. Maybe she was hurt that he hadn’t proclaimed his love for her.
But none of this made sense. He’d always been very clear that their relationship could not go further, and she had always been accepting of it.
Would making love change her so much?
Before he’d thought not. Unless there was something else afoot.
Unless…
Had she gone to Mary to tell her of the plot? Surely she wouldn’t have done such a thing without telling him, would she?
“You haven’t seen her since this afternoon?” he asked.
“No. Why?” Margaret was beginning to look alarmed.
“Take me to your chambers,” he said.
“My lord, I don’t think—”
“It’s important, Margaret. Rose could be in danger.”
“Truly?” Her alarm was turning to fear.
“Truly.”
Margaret swept ahead of him. “Follow me.”
Rose telling Mary about the plot was not out of the realm of possibility. Rose would think it important for Mary to know. Despite her own feelings toward Darnley, Will knew Rose well enough to know she would not feel comfortable keeping the information of his possible murder a secret. He was certain that she did not speak to Mary about returning home.
And now she was missing.
She’s fine, he kept saying to himself as he followed Margaret down the corridors.
She’s fine.
He pushed past Margaret when she opened the door to their chambers.
“Lord Sheffield, what is happening?” Margaret entered behind him, winded.
She’s not here.
“She’s not here,” he said.
He strode over to her wardrobe and pulled open the doors.
Behind him Margaret gasped.
The wardrobe was half filled with gowns and petticoats and the other accoutrements that women were forced to wear.
“They’re gone,” Margaret whispered. “Her gowns. Most of them are gone. Do you think she went home to her family?”
Will considered the half-empty wardrobe with a sinking heart. “I don’t think so.”
Margaret stepped up beside him and together they stared into the depths of the wardrobe.
“She wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye,” Margaret said, sounding hurt.
Not unless she was forced to.
He left the chambers and left Margaret standing in front of the wardrobe, cursing that his own rooms were on the other side of the palace. His valet was nowhere to be found, but who could blame the man. He surely hadn’t expected Will to return so soon for a change of clothing. Yet Will was quite capable of changing without help. When he left his chambers he was in comfortable and well-worn leather breeches, a leather doublet and a warm coat. On his body he carried no less than three knives and a sword on the outside.
He did not count on tripping over Margaret when he walked out of his chambers.
“Good God, woman. What are you doing here?”
“A guard came for Rose,” she said breathlessly. “One of Mary’s guards. He told her that she was needed at home and she had to leave quickly.”
“Follow me.” Will wanted to hear more but he was also in a hurry. The more time he wasted, the more danger Rose would be in.
Margaret tugged on his arm to stop him but he wasn’t willing to stop now. “Don’t you see? She’s fine. She had to return home. I just hope that nothing is terribly wrong at home. She does love her brothers and parents so.”
“Who told you this?”
“
Our maid, Alice. She said she was told by the guard to gather a few of Rose’s things, that Rose would not be returning any time soon. Oh, dear. That must mean that something terrible has happened.” Margaret was keeping pace by jogging a step behind Will, her skirts clutched in her fists so she wouldn’t trip over them.
“So you see? There’s nothing to worry about.”
Will grunted but didn’t voice his concerns. He would bet that there was nothing wrong with any of Rose’s family members, that it had been a lie to get Rose out of the palace quickly. For what?
What was the purpose?
Everything kept leading back to one possibility.
Mary was involved in the plot to kill Darnley.
Will reached the stables, surprised to find Margaret keeping pace with him. Her color was high and she was winded but she didn’t falter.
“Thank you, Lady Margaret, for giving me that information. I’m certain Rose is probably on her way home by now.”
Margaret grabbed his arm and this time he had no choice but to stop or drag her with him.
“Don’t,” she said fiercely. “Don’t lie to me. You don’t believe that something is wrong at home. You think something else has happened to Rose, don’t you?”
He hesitated. “It’s best you don’t ask too many questions.”
“She’s the closest friend I have here. I love Rose like a sister.” Tears formed in her eyes and Will cursed. He did not need a weepy woman right now. “She’s in danger, isn’t she?”
“I will find her and I will make her safe.”
“Will you? Will you please make her safe?”
“I will.”
She stared at him for a long moment before she nodded. “Thank you.”
“Now go back to the palace before someone sees you with me.”
“There’s more to Rose disappearing, isn’t there? And there’s more to you too? Rose saw it but I never believed her.”
“There’s nothing more to me than what you see.”
“Do you love her?”
Will was growing impatient. Each question meant that Rose was getting farther and farther from him. If she’d left the palace at all.
“I do love her.”
Margaret smiled through her tears. “Then you find her and save her.”
“I will. Now go back to the ball.”
He made his way into the stable and was immediately struck with a longing for Rose. She was always here, always at Tyche’s stall with a treat or a pat or a whisper in the horse’s ear. The smell of hay and horses reminded him so much of Rose that it was like a blow to the stomach.
LaGrange was at the other end of the stable with the cat in his arms as if he’d been waiting for Will.
“Took you long enough,” LaGrange said. His gaze flickered to a spot behind Will. Damn it, Margaret had followed him. She was looking up at LaGrange, her mouth agape. He was a tall man—taller than even Darnley who was considered very tall—and formidable looking with his long, blond hair and close-cropped beard.
“Damn it, woman. I told you to return to the palace.”
Her gaze flicked to Will then back to LaGrange. “I want to help.”
“You can help by going back and staying out of this. I can’t save every female who pokes her nose into things she shouldn’t.”
But she didn’t seem to hear him for she was still staring at LaGrange.
“They left a few hours ago,” LaGrange finally said, ignoring Margaret. “Lysle asked that his carriage be readied for a long journey. Said he was needed on an emergency back home. I became suspicious when more than his luggage was being loaded onto the carriage.”
“Did you see her get in the carriage?”
“No. But that doesn’t mean she entered of her free will. My guess is she was drugged and carried on. Could have even been in one of the trunks that was loaded on the back.”
“Lord Lysle took her?” This came from Margaret but Will ignored her.
“Do you think he’s taking her to his estate up north?” Will asked.
“That would be my guess. I’d ask you what happened, but…” He rolled his eyes toward Margaret.
“Rose met with Queen Mary earlier today,” Will said, hoping LaGrange would fill in the gaps.
“Ah,” LaGrange said with a nod.
“I’m going after her. Can you ready Tyche?”
“Certainly. Do you need help?”
“Probably but I can’t pull you away or…anyone else.” He’d been about to mention Tristan but held his tongue because Margaret was avidly listening.
“Do you think that whatever she told Mary got her in trouble?” Margaret asked.
The woman was far too astute for Will’s peace of mind. “The less you know the better. Now please return to the palace and forget you heard any of this.”
“But what am I to tell Emma and the others when they ask about Rose?”
“The same thing you and Alice were told. Rose was called back home due to an emergency.”
Margaret looked like she wanted to argue but she clamped her lips shut and nodded.
“It’s important that you keep to that story,” Will said. “So others don’t become suspicious and in danger as well.”
Chapter 26
Will knew he needed help. After Margaret had reluctantly left the stables, LaGrange informed Will that a contingent of Bothwell’s most trusted guards had departed Edinburgh an hour after Lysle and headed in the same direction as Lysle. This confirmed to Will that Bothwell was deeply involved in the plot and that all of them were out to neutralize Rose.
He couldn’t pull LaGrange or Tristan from their duties. Will knew what he needed to do but he still debated long and hard about it. His plan would take him south while Rose was going north. But if he wanted to save Rose, then he needed to fetch her brothers and father.
He pushed Tyche, riding hard to get to the border clan, nervous and anxious and fearful for Rose’s safety. About halfway there he was met up by a messenger sent by LaGrange.
The palace announced Turner to wed Lysle. On their way to Lysle’s estate. They will wed as soon as they arrive.
With a curse Will crumpled the note in his fist, paid the messenger and sent him back to the palace.
It was a well-thought-out ruse. Lysle would marry Rose per the queen’s directive then some terrible tragedy would befall Lysle’s new bride, making him a widower—again. The threat of Rose would be gone and Lysle would have done his duty to his queen and he would in some way be rewarded.
Will pushed Tyche harder toward Turner land.
He’d known the general vicinity in which to head but had to stop at a bothy to ask for directions.
It wasn’t surprising that as soon as he neared his destination he felt as if he were being watched. No doubt the Turners had been warned that a stranger was asking about them. An Englishman, no less.
Border clans were unpredictable and dangerous. They lived life just barely on the right side of the law most times. Other times they blatantly crossed that line with no remorse.
He approached the Turner fortification carefully, feeling as if crossbows and pistols were pointed at his back.
The only sounds he heard were the birds in the trees and the occasional rustle of an animal in the underbrush. He knew they were watching him from the narrow arrow slits of the upper level of the house. The lower level lodged the valuable livestock, drawn in to safety when he’d been spotted riding through their land.
He stopped a good distance from the house, far enough that no arrow or pistol ball could reach him. Hopefully close enough that they could hear him.
“Laird Turner. I’ve come about your daughter, Rose.”
Sensing the tension, Tyche shifted beneath him. Will put a staying hand on the horse’s neck and waited, studying the thick walls and slate roof. Impenetrable.
Rose’s father knew how to build a defensive structure.
Will waited for the better part of a quarter of an hour. He didn’t speak again,
fairly certain that they’d heard him the first time. They were taking his measure now, evaluating him, discussing him. But bloody hell he wished they’d hurry and decide. Each moment that ticked by drew Rose farther and farther from him and farther into danger.
And then he appeared, a large older man. Wide shoulders, thick build, white hair, dark skin from so many hours in the sun. He might have been twice Will’s age but in no way was he Will’s inferior. The man could pop Will’s head off his shoulders with little effort.
“State your purpose,” the man said in a deep, gravelly voice. He stopped just outside the door to the lower level, his arms loose at his sides. Will’s gaze flickered to the sword clutched in one fist, then firmly kept his gaze locked on the man’s.
“Rose is in danger. I came for your help.”
The man’s eyes narrowed, possibly trying to decide if this was a trick.
“Speak,” he said.
A man of few words.
“I don’t want to shout it across the yard,” Will said. He highly doubted anyone had followed him but he wasn’t taking chances.
Rose’s father seemed to consider Will for a long time. Will didn’t see the man so much as twitch but the outer ladder came down and two others descended. They had the same red hair as Rose, the same tilt of their nose but they had the build of their father.
They stood next to the older man in the exact same stance. Will was apprehensive about facing three armed men who would break him before they asked a question, but for Rose he slid off his mount and walked forward until he was standing before them.
“I come in peace and only because I can’t save Rose alone.”
Three sets of green eyes contemplated him, looking over his clothes, his weapon, then his horse.
They spoke low, in a language that Will did not recognize. Gaelic, maybe, possibly their own language used for their reiving. In any case they conversed among themselves, then they laughed.
Will could feel heat suffuse his face but he didn’t move.
“Come,” the older man finally said.
Will climbed the ladder first, knowing full well that more Turner men were waiting for him up top. They obviously didn’t think him too much of a threat to invite him up to their home.
Bound to a Spy Page 19