“From the moment she drew her first breath I knew Rose was special,” Rhona said. “Destined for something bigger than this, if you will. I’ll not let you interfere with that, Sheffield.”
Will dipped his head, feeling inferior and intimidated by this small woman with such a large personality. And large mouth, too.
She tilted her head. “For an Englishman you’re not all bad,” she said. “You love my Rose and that’s something to be said in your favor. And you risked your life coming here, knowing you could have been killed just by riding up to our place like you were a long-lost cousin or something.”
Obviously not many people rode up to the Turners’ front door for a visit. And neither could Will blame them if this was the reception they were to get. But he also couldn’t help liking this woman who held her family together with a steel fist and had very specific ideas of everyone’s future.
“I was desperate,” he said. “And I couldn’t think of anyone better than Rose’s family to help me save her.”
Rhona pressed her lips together but he could tell by the twinkling of her eyes that she was pleased with his comment.
“She talks about you,” he said. “She’s told me all kinds of stories about you and Thom and her brothers.”
“Now you’re looking to butter me up.” But there was hope in her tone, as if she wanted to believe that Rose had told him stories about the family but didn’t know if she should.
“She told me about punching John in the eye and cutting off all her hair.”
For the first time Rhona’s gaze wandered away, and he noticed a decided glimmer in it and wondered if she was crying.
“Go on down there with Thom and the boys. The other three are off…Well, they’re not here so you’ll have to be happy with Thom, John and Ewan. They’re good men and they’ll help you bring Rose back.”
The implication was that the other three were out reiving and doing whatever illegal activities that the border clans did. Will didn’t want to know so he didn’t ask.
He noticed that Rhona didn’t seem overly concerned for Rose’s safety but he had a feeling that had more to do with her firm conviction that Thom and the boys could bring her back and that Rose could handle herself.
—
The four men rode out after Rhona filled their bags with enough food to feed Queen Mary’s army. Both Turner boys, John and Ewan, were wide of shoulder, muscular and had a certain mischievous glint in their green eyes that told him they could take on whatever was thrown at them and they’d have a good time doing it.
The other three, Dawy, Archie and Neil were, of course, doing what reivers do. They were not mentioned. Apparently, Thom was confident that the four of them could take on Lysle and the queen’s guards that had followed Lysle out of Edinburgh.
“I sent young Rabbie ahead with his brother, Paden,” Thom said. He was speaking to John and Ewan but Will refused to be left out.
“Rabbie and Paden?” he asked.
“The McInnis boys. They’re good hunters.”
Will let the silence stretch, not wanting to ask why Thom had sent hunters ahead because he knew Thom was waiting for him to ask. Will felt he was being tested, and he wasn’t pleased about it. He didn’t need to prove himself to these three men. He felt like he’d already proven himself to Rhona and it had exhausted him.
“They’re to find Lysle and report back to me,” Thom finally said.
Will felt an irrational spurt of victory that he’d waited Thom out and won the small battle of wits.
“There are guards,” Will said. “The queen’s guards. I hope Rabbie and Paden are careful.”
Thom snorted and John bit back a smile. “They’ll be careful,” Thom said. “If they know what’s good for ’em.”
They rode in silence after that, but Will was pleased to see that they rode hard, pushing the horses, but also knowing they would need their mounts so not pushing them too hard.
Will was anxious to get to Rose, fearful of what Lysle had planned for her. Would he even wait until they were wed before doing away with her? Or dare Will hope that Lysle would spare her life?
The thought of Rose wed to that bastard made him light-headed with anger. Not his beautiful Rose. Her spirit would be crushed married to a man such as Lysle. A man with no sense of humor who would never appreciate what had been given to him.
The thought made Will want to push Tyche harder but he didn’t dare. The poor animal had been able to rest while Will spoke to Rose’s parents but he was still tired.
The other three worked well together, leaving Will feeling as if he were the odd man out and it irritated him, but at the same time he could understand it. Rose was their sister, after all. He remembered the stories she told of them and the love in her voice when she spoke of them.
He also remembered the last words she’d said to him and he desperately wished that he had told her that he loved her too. But fear and a sense of decency had held him back. He couldn’t saddle her with his love when he knew he was going to leave her. He would bear that burden alone.
But he wished with all his heart that she knew he did love her. Loved her more than he’d ever loved anything in his life.
He’d never thought himself capable of love. He’d just thought that it was something he was born without, something that others could feel but he could not. It was why he was so good at what he did. Growing up without the love of his parents, or anyone really, had proved to him that he was unlovable.
Oh, he’d had nannies and governesses who had felt kindly toward him, and maybe they loved him in their own way, but it wasn’t the love of a mother to a child, a father to a son.
Rose had opened that up in him. She’d revealed a part of him that he hadn’t even known existed and while he was still convinced there was no future for them, he didn’t want her being crushed beneath the coldness of Lysle’s heart.
After he saved Rose—and he would save Rose. He refused to let himself think otherwise—he would have to leave Scotland for certain. He couldn’t return to Holyrood and face the queen after he had foiled her plans to wed Lysle and Rose. Too many questions would be asked and he would be looked at with more suspicion than before.
He hoped LaGrange would get word to Tristan. Will hated leaving Tristan alone in Scotland to finish what the three of them—Will, Simon and Tristan—had begun at the behest of Queen Elizabeth. But there was nothing to be done about it.
For his safety and the secrecy of the English monarch he had to leave.
Which meant that once Rose was safe, he would be gone, never to see her again.
A curious feeling stole over him, a tightening of the throat, a band around his chest that made it difficult to breathe. And his eyes suddenly stung.
They’d been riding for much of the day with an occasional stop to rest the horses and relieve themselves. Ewan and John talked amongst themselves but only sporadically and never for long. John seemed the most amiable of the three. Ewan seemed rather withdrawn and surly. Thom scowled most of the time but Will marked that up to worry for his daughter.
“What is he like, this Lysle?” he asked Will at one point.
“Dour,” Will said without hesitation. “Humorless. Fussy.”
Thom grinned. “Sounds to me like you don’t like the man.”
Will shrugged, not denying the accusation.
“I hope this is not about some bloody love triangle,” Thom growled.
Will looked at him in surprise. Did he not really understand how much danger Rose was in?
“I can assure you, sir, that this has nothing to do with love. Rose’s life is in jeopardy. She was betrothed to Lysle by Mary because Rose knows too much.”
Thom shook his head. “Relax, lad. I believe you. I also believe that you’re in love with my Rose.”
Will pressed his lips together, neither admitting nor denying the claim.
Thom chuckled. “I knew it.” He held a branch back for Will to ride under then let it go, apparently unconcern
ed that it could hit John, but John easily caught it and held it out of the way for Ewan who was bringing up the rear.
“So this Lysle doesn’t sound like a fighting man,” Thom said.
“Nay. He’s a cunning man though so he will be hard to get to.”
Thom grunted.
“I just hope we get to them before he weds her. Once she’s wed she’s his property to do with as he chooses.”
“You think that will stop us?” Thom asked. “I don’t give one whit what the queen says or what she decrees. Rose doesn’t marry until I say she can marry. I don’t recall the queen asking my permission.”
Will refrained from commenting that the queen didn’t have to ask anyone’s permission to do anything. She was all-powerful in Scotland and what she said was law. However, there were different rules on the borders and different laws that these people lived by. If Thom didn’t consider Rose married, then who was Will to argue. Especially since he didn’t want to consider her married either.
“Have you given much thought to what to do with Rose after we get her back?” Will refused to think about the alternative—not getting her back. Thom and John, Ewan and Rhona all seemed confident that they would return with Rose so Will drew that confidence into himself.
“She’ll come home, of course. I told Rhona that sending her to Edinburgh was a mistake. Living all high like that, wearing expensive gowns. That’s not my Rose. She’d rather be outside taking care of the sick and injured animals that she’s always bringing home. But the day Rose was born, Rhona got it into her mind that her daughter would serve in the queen’s court, Rose being of the same age as the queen, or almost, at least. And when Rhona gets a thought nobody, not even the queen herself, will shake her of it. Rose knew from when she was a little sprite that she’d be going to live in a palace at some point. Never thought she liked the idea much but Rose is like her brothers and me. You don’t argue with Rhona when she gets that look in her eye.”
Will listened in rapt silence as the big man rambled on about the women in his life. He didn’t seem perturbed about Rhona’s ability to rule the house, just accepting, and maybe a bit proud too.
“So off Rose went and none too pleased about it either. Neither was I when I looked in my coffers and saw how much it cost me to buy those fancy gowns. Rose likes to wear breeches, you know.”
An image of Rose in breeches came to his mind, quickly pushed away when he realized how erotic she would look.
“Anyway, I had a bad feeling about it when she left. I have the touch you know.”
A pause, which meant an answer was required of Will.
“The touch?”
Thom nodded. Ewan and John had fallen back and were talking quietly to each other, leaving Will alone with Thom. When he’d first seen Thom he’d not thought the man the talkative sort, but he’d been wrong.
“I can see things. I know things. Rhona thinks it’s nonsense, but it’s not. Anyway, I wasn’t surprised when you rode up. Actually, it was Rabbie and Paden who warned us you were coming. Said a stranger was asking about us. Probably something you shouldn’t be doing around here.”
Will had assumed that but it was the only way to find Rose’s family, and in truth he’d wanted them to be warned before his arrival so he didn’t get an arrow to the chest or a knife to the throat.
Thom was shaking his head. “But murder plots? Rose can get herself into some trouble here and there. Nothing serious,” he added, as if Will was thinking Rose could get in serious trouble. “Just a scrap now and then. Mostly with her brothers, but there’ve been a few with the local boys. But a murder conspiracy? ’Course it doesn’t surprise me that she was somewhere she oughtn’t to’ve been and listening at closed doors. She’s been known to do that. I guess I should’ve known that there are a lot of doors in a palace to press one’s ear to.”
Thom seemed to take a breath and there was silence for a bit. But not for long.
“My Rose,” Thom said quietly. “She’s a good girl. Her brothers and I, we taught her well. She’ll be fine.”
Will didn’t know if Thom was trying to convince himself or Will.
Chapter 29
Rose didn’t know how long they’d been traveling. Long enough that her legs had fallen asleep and her arms were aching from being folded beneath her. She was certain that the bastard Lysle had left a permanent boot print on her back, and her anger was a simmering cauldron in her stomach.
The coach slowed and she wanted to weep and laugh when the toe of Lysle’s boot dug into her side, making her wince. Every ache and pain fed her fury.
“Get up,” he said. “We’re stopping for the night.”
It was night? That much time had passed? Then again she didn’t really know what time it’d been when they’d stopped before or how long they’d been traveling before that. Days could have passed since she’d been taken from Holyrood.
She wondered if Will knew she was missing. What about Margaret? Margaret would have been the one to notice first. Rose hoped her friend had raised the alarm. Margaret would never believe that Rose had willingly left to marry Lysle. But Rose wasn’t certain what good raising an alarm would do when it was Mary herself who had decreed the union.
“Get up, I said.” He kicked her in the shin as he climbed over her and opened the door to the carriage. The fresh breeze was a welcome relief even if it was biting. They had traveled north and the weather had responded accordingly. She shivered as she slowly straightened her legs and stretched her arms.
She sat up, wincing at her sore back where Lysle had repeatedly kicked her, and looked out the open door of the carriage. She couldn’t see Lysle. He’d certainly not stayed to help his betrothed out of the carriage. Idly she wondered what she looked like. A fright, no doubt. She was wearing the same blue gown that she’d met Queen Mary in. There was vomit on her hem and the skirts were irreparably wrinkled. Somewhere she had lost a shoe, probably when she had tried to run away.
Her hair trailed down her back, over her shoulders and into her eyes, her pins gone for good.
She could care less what she looked like. Lysle would be the one embarrassed by her appearance, not her. She poked her head out of the carriage. The half dozen of Mary’s guards were standing around talking, their horses being led away by wide-eyed stable boys who probably had never seen such fine horseflesh.
The inn was not a bustling place by any means. In fact, their party seemed to be the only ones about. Not surprising. Who else would be traveling this far north in the middle of winter? Most people with means would be at Holyrood for the baptism or tucked into their warm homes.
Rose gingerly let herself down from the carriage, not at all surprised that no one lent a helping hand. Lysle was talking to the proprietor, all smiles and large hand gestures. He turned to Rose and beckoned her toward him. She took her time getting there, exaggerating her limp caused by her missing shoe.
The proprietor frowned at her, and she glared at him. She would not pretend that this was a pleasant experience.
“The poor dear has been so sick while we are traveling,” Lysle was saying. “We just need a warm room for her to lie down in.”
The proprietor, a tall skinny man who looked like he needed a good meal, took a step back and Rose grinned at him.
“Oh, no. No, no,” Lysle was saying. “She’s not sick like that. It’s the motion of the carriage and well…” Lysle seemed embarrassed and leaned closer to the proprietor. “She’s in the family way, you know. Makes her terribly ill in the beginning.”
Rose thought she couldn’t be any more shocked by Lysle, but the man continually surprised her. “No, I’m not,” she said.
Lysle’s eyes widened in surprise while the proprietor’s narrowed.
Rose turned to the tall man. “I’m not in any family way. I’ve been sick and this man has kidnapped me.”
Lysle grabbed her arm in a grip so tight that she yelped, drawing the proprietor’s gaze to her arm.
“You’re hurting me,”
she said between clenched teeth.
Lysle chuckled but his face had paled and his eyes were deadly. “She’s very petulant. She was that way with our first child.”
She yanked her arm from his hold. “I’ve never had a child. There is no other child. I’m here against my will.”
“Just show us to our room,” Lysle said, choosing to ignore her.
The proprietor hesitated, his gaze raking over Rose’s disgusting appearance then to the guards in the background. There was no mistaking that they were the queen’s guards, and it was their presence that convinced him to comply with Lysle.
“This way,” he said.
Lysle’s fingers dug deep into her flesh until she swore he would snap her arm in half. She tried to pull away but he was having none of that and he marched her up the stairs sandwiched between him and the tall man who led them to the room at the top of the steps.
“This is our best room,” the man said. “I’ll have my daughter start a fire and bring up water for a bath.”
“No need,” Lysle said. “My wife won’t be needing any of that.”
“But you said…” The man’s gaze strayed to Rose’s flat stomach.
“I’ll let you know if we need anything.” Lysle practically pushed the man out of the room, closed the door and stood in front of it, his chest heaving. He closed his eyes and breathed deep for several long moments.
Rose moved to the other end of the room, frightened of what he was going to do to her, but determined to stay strong.
He pinned her with a deadly look. “Don’t ever do anything like that again.” His voice was calm, as if they were having a conversation in the middle of one of Mary’s salons.
“I won’t make this easy for you,” she said.
He took a step toward her then stopped as if he were afraid of what he would do to her. “You will do as I say.”
Bound to a Spy Page 21