by Paula Quinn
He had good news to tell them then, Connor deduced, watching Mairi take her seat beside her brother.
“The queen has advised me,” James said, getting directly to the meat of the private audience, “that you all already know where I have been and why I left.” He proceeded to tell them anyway. “My enemies discovered my most closely guarded secret, my firstborn daughter, Davina, whom I had spirited away to St. Christopher’s Abbey when she was an infant. An attempt was made to kill her, but failed thanks to Robert MacGregor.” His eyes, which had gone dark while he spoke of the attack on the abbey, brightened now on Mairi. “Your eldest brother saved her life, for which I am infinitely grateful.”
Mairi smiled, swelling with pride. She looked at Connor and he winked at her.
“I must tell you, Miss MacGregor, that when I arrived at Camlochlin, I was certain it would be the last place my eyes would ever look upon. Your ‘kin’ do not take kindly to uninvited visitors, and if not for young Colin at my side, my men and I would very likely have been struck down with cannon or arrow before we ever reached the castle. Your father was very wise indeed to have built his fortress so strategically placed that an enemy could be seen from leagues away.”
“He had need of such protection before King Charles was restored to the throne, Yer Majesty,” Mairi reminded him, straightening her shoulders.
“So I was told by the chief.” James offered her a smile, then continued, briefly scanning his dark blue gaze over the rest of them. “Unfortunately though, we were attacked unawares by the same men who burned the abbey.”
Immediately, Graham rose to his feet. Mairi was about to do the same, when the king held up his palm. “No one from Camlochlin was injured, though I did lose thirteen of my men. We were ambushed beyond the braes of…” He looked to Colin for assistance.
“Bla Bheinn,” Colin supplied magnanimously, then went back to examining a thread that had come loose from his plaid.
“Ah, yes, Bla Bheinn.” The king nodded and waited while a server entered the chamber with their wine and poured each of them a drink, then left again. “Admiral Peter Gilles set his men, armed with pistol and sword, behind the hillocks and once again, tried to kill my daughter by firing at her.”
“Bastard!”
Everyone turned to Claire, who returned their stares with an unrepentant one of her own. Mary of Modena smiled at her.
The king continued to tell them what had taken place after the attack and that Admiral Gilles had been killed before any could discover who had sent him.
“Then mayhap yer daughter should not be brought to Whitehall just yet,” Connor told the king.
“She will not be returning at all.” James set his gaze on each of them in turn. “She will remain with her new family where she will be safe.”
“Pardon, Sire?” Mairi said, sounding as stunned as the rest of them looked. “Her new family?”
“Yes, I discovered, quite by accident in the midst of a bloody struggle, that your brother Robert had wed her.”
Everyone’s mouth, excluding the king’s, his wife’s, and Colin’s, fell open.
“I can assure you that I was equally astounded,” James went on. “But the man loves her, that I can tell you. And my daughter loves him in return.”
“You gave your blessing to the union then?” Claire asked, voicing, still slack jawed, what the others wanted to ask.
“Of course. An army more ferocious than any at St. Christopher’s surrounds Davina now. Besides, she was not raised among the masses. She would never find happiness at Whitehall, and I wanted to give her that, having been unable all her life to give her anything else.”
Given the fact that Colin rarely smiled at anyone, Connor was equally surprised when he caught the subtle smile the sedate lad offered the king now.
“I was informed by your father and brothers, Miss MacGregor, that we are now considered your kin.”
Connor watched Mairi’s smile on the king go warm with newfound affection, partly because he was now, by Highland ways, her kin. But mostly because of how he spoke of his daughter, and of her clan. She would swear her fealty to James Stuart, as he had. It was a poignant moment to be certain, but Connor couldn’t help but wonder how much harder she would now fight against their mutual enemies.
“He also asked that I return you home with the Lord and Lady Huntley at my convenience.”
“If it pleases, Yer Majesty,” Mairi said, turning her smile on Connor. “I would ask to remain here fer a wee bit longer.”
“Of course,” the king said, “stay as long as you like. I only wish your brother Robert felt the same way. I asked your father if I might enlist any of his sons into my army. Thankfully, one of them agreed to return. Colin will be joining us here.”
Mairi’s face went white against the golden light of the hearth. She blinked back what looked to Connor like tears and turned to her brother. “This is not true.”
Connor wanted to go to her. He almost did when Colin looked her straight in the eye and nodded his head.
“We will speak of it later,” she managed, and dipped her eyes to her hands.
Connor would speak to him about it as well. Each of the laird’s sons was as much his brother as Finn was. Wars were likely coming to England, and Connor didn’t want Colin fighting in them. Especially if Connor wasn’t going to be at his side. Hell, he’d had enough fighting. He’d given his service for longer than he had to. He wanted to marry the love of his youth and be there to raise their bairns.
“Captain Grant.”
Connor blinked his gaze away from Colin and gave his attention to the king.
“Tell me about the attack you suffered in St. James’s Park.”
Connor told him everything, with his father interjecting at intervals. He did not tell the king that he suspected Nicholas Sedley, or anyone else. Perhaps he’d merely been robbed for his boots and there was no plot behind it. He didn’t want to see his friend hanged if he were innocent and until Connor had proof that he wasn’t, he would say nothing.
“I will have the matter looked into,” James promised, then offered him a more relaxed smile. “Other than that, are you recovering well?”
“Almost fully, Yer Majesty. Another day or two and I shall be back in the lists teaching yer other captains how to fight.”
“Good. I’m placing Colin under your tutelage.”
Mairi turned to him with an almost pleading look. She wanted him to refuse, to ask the king to send her brother home, where it was safe.
Colin didn’t share his sister’s concerns. For he puffed up in his chair and protested with a resounding “Nae, Yer Majesty! There’s nothing he or anyone else here can teach me that I dinna’ already know, I can practice on my own.”
“There’s always room to learn more,” the king corrected him gently. “You will train under Captain Grant or you will be sent home with his father. Do you understand?”
Lesson one learned. Don’t argue with the king of England—no matter how much he likes you.
Colin was every bit as stubborn as his sister was. It took much for him to nod and look away. When he did, he slipped his hooded gaze to Connor. Hell, the boy was going to come at him in the lists with everything he had. Involuntarily, Connor reached for his wound. He should be fully recovered by then.
He better be.
It was almost midnight when they finally left the Presence Chamber. Connor’s parents, as well as the king and queen, left them to retire. When Colin tried to make off to his room, Connor clutched a fistful of wool from the back of his plaid and pulled him back.
“Let’s walk. There are things yer sister and I would discuss with ye.”
“There is nothing to discuss.” Colin yanked free and walked on his own. “I have made my decision. This is where I want to be.”
“How can ye leave Camlochlin?” Mairi demanded, sounding much the way she did when Connor told her he was leaving.
“There’s nothing fer me there, Mairi. I am sick of fighting in
the dark or over cattle. I want to be part of an army.” Colin’s gaze flicked to Connor’s, a spark of challenge lighting their green gold depths. “A captain, mayhap.”
Connor couldn’t help but smile. The lad was arrogant enough to be a general. “Ye’ve fought small groups of men who were unprepared and unskilled. Ye don’t know what ’tis like to fight an army.”
“Neither did ye when ye came here,” Colin reminded him as they stepped into the quiet Stone Gallery.
“But I know now. No matter how hard ye train, or how much ye know, ’tis hard, Colin. ’Tis hard on a man’s heart.”
“Not all men were born to battle.”
Connor turned to look at him. He was correct. Connor had seen it too many times on the field; men expelling their breakfasts at the sight of limbs and even heads littering the grass. Some men could take it because they had to. It was their duty. While a rare few truly loved the weight of a blade in their hands, the thrill of looking death in the face and coming out alive. “If ye’re that determined to do it,” he relented, knowing Colin was one of those rare few and nothing Connor said was going to change his mind, “I’ll stay here with ye and prepare ye fer what’s no doubt coming.”
Beside him, Mairi went stiff. When Connor turned to look at her, she avoided his gaze and spoke to her brother.
“Colin, please dinna’ stay here. Ye canna’ truly mean to leave home.”
Connor heard the same desperate plea in her voice that he’d heard when he left her to serve the king. She didn’t want to lose someone else she loved to England. She would never want to remain here… and how could he return home when a war was likely coming?
“Camlochlin will always be first in my heart, Mairi, but my skill can be better used here.” Colin planted a kiss on his sister’s face. “Dinna’ fret over me. Ye know I will fare well.”
“Colin.” Connor called out to him as he strode away. “I’ll expect ye in the lists at first light. Don’t be tardy. If ye truly mean to remain here, ye’ll be well prepared fer whatever comes.”
When Mairi’s brother looked over his shoulder, his smile was gone, replaced by his usual impassive expression. “I am heading there now, Captain. By dawn, ’twill be ye who is tardy.”
“Hell.” Connor shook his head watching Colin’s departure. “I almost feel sorry fer the Dutch.”
Mairi didn’t smile. In fact, she looked so miserable Connor wanted to take her in his arms and vow that he would keep Colin safe, but that would mean his staying in the king’s service, perhaps having to let her go again when she refused to remain here with him. He wasn’t ready to hear her rejection yet again, and said nothing when she bid him good night.
Chapter Thirty
Connor stepped into the tiltyard a little before dawn the next morning and shook his head at Colin already there, sprinting around the enormous perimeter. The lad was going to be a menace to someone. Hopefully, not to him.
Leaning against the short wall, he waited for Mairi’s brother to reach him. He looked about the grounds, hoping to see her. He didn’t like how they’d departed last eve after a day of making love to her. He wanted to speak with her about their future. But he wasn’t sure what he wanted to tell her. He had a duty to his cousin, the king, but he wanted to begin his life with her. She liked the manor house, but it wasn’t the Highlands and he knew her heart belonged at Camlochlin. Hell, she’d given him up for it once before. And what if she did agree to stay with him until James’s seat on the throne was secure? What of her fighting? Would she give that up for him, as well, or continue here, where enemies were as easy to find as birds in the air?
And what about her brother? Connor thought, watching as Colin came around the last curve. He wasn’t surprised that the lad of two and twelve he had left at Camlochlin had grown into a confident, stubborn warrior. Colin was his father’s son. Still, whether he was a MacGregor or not, the true test of a man’s mettle came from real battle. How would Colin fare against a horde of men coming at him with swords, thick with someone else’s blood?
“Are ye certain ye’re staying?” he asked as the lad slowed.
“Aye.” Colin nodded, stopping and catching his breath.
“Then”—Connor pushed off the wall and stepped forward—“from this moment on ye’re a member of the king’s Royal Army, and I am yer captain. My duty is to prepare and lead my men into battle. I prefer to bring them all home alive with me when the battle is over and to do that they must obey me in all things.”
“I will obey ye,” Colin conceded, “but I can bring myself home.”
Connor smiled, unsheathing his giant claymore. “Show me.”
He barely had a chance to ready himself before Colin started swinging. If Connor didn’t know any better, he would vow Mairi’s youngest brother was trying to kill him. He smiled, despite the dull ache from his wound. He hadn’t had a decent round of training in too long. His men were skilled fighters, to be sure, but training with any one of Callum MacGregor’s sons was a different exercise altogether. And, as Connor quickly discovered, Colin had learned his lessons well. His sword arm was strong and quick, almost catching Connor twice on the hip with the flat end of his blade. His aim was precise and his feet light as he parried and jabbed, keeping up with Connor’s more experienced expertise. He struck with brutal determination and even used his elbows to push Connor off when their blades met and sparked above their heads. By the time they neared the end of their session, a small crowd had gathered around the lists to watch, and Connor had worked up his first full sweat in two years. He needed a break. His wound ached and his arms felt heavy. With one final arc of his claymore, which flashed in the now midmorning sun, he delivered a savage blow that nearly set Colin on his knees. Without a moment to spare before the lad repositioned himself, Connor seized his wrist, twisted Colin’s arm behind his back, and held the sharp edge of his sword to the lad’s throat. “Ye’re dead.”
“Shyt!” Colin swore through gritted teeth as Connor let him go.
“Ye did well, but ye’re a wee bit too eager and reckless. We’ll work on that.”
Colin didn’t look happy, but he said nothing as he slammed his sword back into its sheath and nodded. At least he still possessed that much humility. When he walked away, Connor let out a deep exhalation of breath. He spotted Mairi among the onlookers. She wore a somewhat pained smile.
She went to the wall, waiting for him, and then proceeded to scold him quietly for fighting with her brother when his wound was not yet healed.
“I won, did I not?”
“Still, ye were foolish in yer completion. Rendering Colin completely helpless was an err I am certain he will make ye pay fer next time. He will train even harder.”
“That is what I want him to do,” he told her, tracing his finger over her lips and aching to kiss them, “He’ll be victorious over all who come against him.”
She smiled and nodded and he thought he might have seen a sparkle in the deep blue of her eyes.
“Captain Grant!” Elizabeth de Vere’s voice shattered the moment Connor thought might be the right one to speak to Mairi about things on his mind.
“You were marvelous!” Elizabeth made no attempt to conceal either her worshipful admiration of him, or her aversion toward Mairi. “I daresay watching you manhandle that barbarian was the pinnacle of my day.”
“Barbarian?”
Connor caught Mairi in midair an instant before she got her hands on Elizabeth’s throat. Elizabeth merely sidestepped and smiled, almost as arrogantly as her brother often smirked at Connor.
“I do hope,” she said as delicately as bells tinkling in a soft breeze, “you will not be so brutal toward my brother if ever you met him in the lists.”
Connor caught the inference and Mairi’s arm along with it when she swung at the earl’s daughter. “I’m certain I will not have to be.” He offered Elizabeth a tight smile, as eager to be away from her as he was to get Mairi out of arm’s reach of her pretty face. “Excuse us, please.” He
didn’t wait for a reply, or a tantrum—if the purple hue of Elizabeth’s face gave clue to what was about to come—but pushed Mairi away and followed closely behind her.
“She suggests yer ferocity with Colin has something unfavorable to do with me!” She turned and slapped his hand away from her back.
“I know.”
“I despise that witch!”
“I know that as well.” He grinned at her when she glared at him and then around his shoulder at Lady Elizabeth. “What I don’t know,” he continued, this time, offering his hand to her, “is why ye let her rile ye up?” He enjoyed watching her shine her victorious smile on Oxford’s sister when she accepted his hand and let him lead her back toward the Banqueting Hall. One had to truly know the savage in order to tame her.
“I will have my day with her.”
“Why?” Connor looked down at her while they walked. “She is no worse than the other ladies here are. I know she looks down her nose at ye, but so do the others. Ye don’t care what any of them think of ye. What makes her different?”
He watched her bite down on her lower lip, weighing her words carefully.
“ ’Tis ye,” she finally said, looking back over her shoulder rather than at him. “There is something about her that is annoyingly confident that ye will be hers.”
He fit his index finger under her chin and pulled her gaze to his. “I won’t be.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t think about it further. Here I am about to topple over from the pain in my stomach and all ye can do is think of—”
She tugged him to a halt and reached for his waist as they came to the stairs. “Och, Connor. Did ye overdo? How bad is it?”
“Now that I think on it”—he closed his arms around her and grinned down into her bonnie face—“it doesn’t pain me all that much.”
He bent his head next and kissed her mouth that had fallen open. He wanted to carry her to his bed, disrobe her fine body, and take her hard and fast in his bed.
He might have done it too if someone hadn’t called his name. He looked up to find Drummond and young Edward approaching.