Wed to a Spy

by Sharon Cullen

  Simon had half raised his arms out to the side as if to let Rowland know that he was unarmed and thus not a threat. His gaze flicked to Aimee, then back to Rowland.

  Aimee’s gaze went to Simon’s horse, where the sword was nesting comfortably in its scabbard, out of Simon’s reach. Every night Simon slept with that sword, but now, when he needed it, he couldn’t get to it.

  “I’ll give you one horse and half our provisions,” Simon said.

  She could feel Rowland shake his head. Tremors were running through his body and into hers. She could feel his desperation, hunger, and fear, and it frightened her.

  “I can’t risk you coming after me,” Rowland said. “I want both horses.”

  “I give you my word that we won’t follow you.”

  “Nay.”

  “I can’t give you all of our things. We will die out here if I do.”

  “I don’t care.”

  Simon slowly lowered his hands. Again his gaze went to Aimee, as if judging whether she was well.

  “You hurt her and I will kill you.” His tone betrayed quite the opposite of what he said. It was calm and matter-of-fact, as if they were at one of Mary’s salons and he was conducting a civil conversation. But that made the actual words even more frightening.

  “I will kill her before you can even move toward me,” Rowland said, but his voice wavered, betraying his bluster.

  Aimee’s heart was pounding. She didn’t want to die. Not now. Not when she’d found happiness and contentment with Simon. Not now that they were so close to England and safety.

  Simon crossed his arms and rolled back on his heels, contemplating Rowland as if they were discussing the sale of cattle or something equally mundane. She wanted to scream at him, stomp her foot, but instead she stood there frozen in fear as she watched the two men bargain for her safety.

  “One horse, half our provisions, and a promise that we will not follow you. I have no wish to know where you are going,” Simon said.

  Rowland laughed, a hysterical note to his tone. “I know things,” he said. “Things that Elizabeth will want to hear. She’ll agree to a meeting once she knows. I’ll be allowed back in England with the information I have.”

  He was rambling almost incoherently, and Aimee’s fear grew. Desperate men did desperate things.

  Simon cocked his head to the side. “None of that is my concern. You take one horse and some provisions, and you go to Elizabeth with the information you have. I will not stop you.”

  “People are willing to kill me for what I know.” Roland’s voice rose in panic, and Aimee wondered if he had encountered the fleeing nobles.

  “Then it is most serious indeed,” Simon said.

  The hand holding the dagger shook. Aimee couldn’t tell if it was from anger that Simon was not capitulating to his demands or from exhaustion and hunger.

  “She’ll forgive my past mistakes,” Rowland was saying.

  “I’m certain she will if the information is deemed valuable enough.”

  “I was on the ship with you.”

  Aimee’s gaze flew to Simon. What was this about? She remembered Simon telling her about the shipwreck he’d been involved in on his way to Scotland, but she didn’t remember him mentioning that someone else in Mary’s court had been on that same ship.

  “I know,” Simon said.

  “Why didn’t you say something while we were at court?”

  “It was none of my concern.”

  “I know things.”

  “So you mentioned.”

  “There are others out here. They’ve seen me, and they are after me.”

  Ah, so he was referring to the nobles, and they were probably close.

  “So take a horse and go,” Simon said. “Threatening my wife will get you nowhere but dead.”

  “She’s coming with me.”

  “The hell she is,” Simon said flatly.

  “For assurance. The nobles will leave me alone once they see I have a lady with me.”

  “Don’t be so certain.”

  Oh, no, no, no. She was not going with this smelly man. Her eyes pleaded with Simon, but he was not looking at her. He was scratching his arm, contemplating Rowland, not seeming upset at all by this strange act being played out. Meanwhile her heart was tripping in her chest, and she could barely breathe through Rowland’s hand on her mouth and the stench of fear and unwashed body that assailed her.

  Rowland dragged her toward her horse. She was unprepared for the sudden movement and stumbled, causing him to stumble as well. He jerked her upright by the hold he had on her mouth, and she cried out in pain, but the sound was muted by his hand. Her skirts wrapped around her legs, impeding her movements, and she stumbled again.

  “Enough,” he growled, pulling her tightly against him as he stopped in front of the horse. Sensing her fear or smelling the horrible odor, the horse snorted and sidestepped. Simon took a step forward, but Rowland yelled, “Stay away! Don’t move or I will cut her throat.”

  Simon stopped. “You have your horse. There is food in the sacks behind the saddle. Take it and go.”

  Aimee began to shake. Whether Rowland took her or not, he would have to let her go so they could mount. She would take her chance then. The dagger was still hidden in the saddle. If the horse didn’t move, she could get to it. She looked at Simon as if she could communicate her plan to him, but he was steadily watching Rowland.

  “Go,” he said softly. “Take what you need and go.”

  Rowland hesitated, and Aimee wondered if he was thinking the same thing she had thought. He had to let go of her at some point to mount the horse, and then he would be at his most vulnerable.

  “Stand over there,” he said to Simon. Aimee supposed he was motioning to the tree line. Far enough away that the threat of Simon would be lessened.

  “No,” Simon said. “If you’re going to do it, you’re going to do it now.”

  She looked at him in disbelief.

  “Damn you,” Rowland said. “I have to get to the queen. I have to get away from the men who are after me.”

  “I’ve offered you a solution. Take it or don’t take it.”

  Suddenly and without warning, Rowland shoved Aimee toward the horse so violently that she fell forward, her head hitting the beast’s flank and causing it to whinny and step away.

  Chapter 28

  Without the horse’s support, Aimee fell to the ground on her hands and knees. In the short moments it took her to roll over, Simon had pulled the dagger hidden in his cloak, closed the distance between him and Rowland, and stabbed Rowland in the chest.

  Rowland’s eyes widened in surprise. He convulsed, his hand releasing the dagger he’d held to Aimee’s throat as he collapsed to his knees, where he stayed for what seemed like hours but could only be a few heartbeats of time before he fell to his side and lay motionless.

  Blood trickled out of his mouth. He heaved a labored, wet breath and went still.

  For long moments everything was silent, as if even the birds and wild animals were holding their breath. Simon was breathing heavily, his bloody dagger clutched in his hand as he stared down at Rowland.

  Aimee scrambled to her feet and edged closer to Simon, not taking her eyes off Rowland. “Is he…”

  “Dead? Yes.” He looked at her. Their gazes locked for a long moment as if neither of them could believe what had just happened. Simon stepped over the body and gathered her into his arms. “My God, Aimee, I was so frightened.”

  “You were?” Her laugh was shaky as she put her arms around him and hugged him so tightly she thought she would never let go. She was shaking and feared he was the only thing holding her together.

  “Are you all right?” He pulled away to look her over critically. With his thumb under her chin, he turned her head this way and that. “I don’t see any damage.”

  As her racing heart slowed, her limbs began to feel weak and wobbly. She rubbed her neck where the dagger had pressed against it and swallowed. “That’s go
od to know.”

  They both looked down at the body, which was beginning to steam in the cold.

  “Just who in the hell is this Rowland?” she asked.

  “A long story, I’m afraid.”

  “One you are definitely telling me. Later.” There was a moment of silence as the enormity of what had happened began to settle into her. “We just killed a man, Simon.” She looked around as if to see whether there was anyone present who had witnessed the ruckus, but of course there was no one.

  Simon was going through the dead man’s pockets, rolling the body one way and then the other. The open, sightless eyes seemed so macabre that she had to look away.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, appalled.

  He pulled out a piece of wrinkled parchment from the man’s pocket. “He said he had information to bring back to the queen,” he said, straightening.

  “I didn’t think he would be fool enough to write it all down.”

  Simon grinned at her. “Magpie, in another time and place, I fear you would have been a formidable spy.”

  She huffed out a steamy breath and stamped her feet, but oddly she wasn’t that cold, because the blood was running fast and furious through her.

  “Rowland said the others were after him, which means they could be nearby,” Simon said. “We need to get out of here.”

  Aimee looked at the body, strangely reluctant to leave it lying on the cold ground all alone, even though he’d tried to kill her.

  “I am impressed at your courage,” Simon said as he helped her mount. “Your actions gave me the opening I needed.”

  “I did what I could.”

  “You didn’t appear frightened.”

  She thought about that as Simon mounted his own horse and they rode off, Aimee casting one last look at their dead attacker.

  “I was frightened,” she admitted. She relived those moments that had seemed to take forever but had been only a few short minutes. “But I was also angry. I didn’t…” She considered her words. “I didn’t want anything to happen to you.”

  Simon glanced over at her. “Did you doubt my abilities to protect you?”

  “No. Not at all.”

  “Good. Because I want you to know that I will always protect you, no matter the cost. Even if it’s with my own life.”

  She shivered. “Please don’t say that.”

  They rode on for most of the afternoon, but conversation was limited. Aimee kept reliving every moment of the encounter with Rowland, and the more she relived it, the more her body shook. She supposed it was a delayed reaction, but her teeth began to chatter and her hands were shaking.

  Simon drew his horse up and slid off it.

  “Wh-what are we d-doing?” she asked, not able to hide the fact that she was trembling so hard she could barely speak.

  “We’re stopping for the day.”

  “But it’s only m-midday. We have hours of s-sunlight left.”

  “You need to stop. I fear we both need to stop.” He appeared angry, his lips a thin, colorless slash in his face. He helped her dismount, and she had to put a hand on her horse to keep herself steady.

  “I don’t know what’s w-wrong with me,” she said.

  “It’s a reaction to what happened this morning. It’s perfectly normal.”

  “Well, I don’t like it, and I want it to s-stop. I don’t want to hold us up—”

  Suddenly Simon was kissing her, his hands cupping her face, his tongue forcing her mouth open so he could sweep in. The kiss was hard and brutal and it instantly made her wet between the legs. She wrapped her arms around him and clung to him, the only person who truly made her feel safe and protected. Everything about him was so familiar and welcoming that she never wanted to let go.

  “I want to take you right here. Right now,” he said, breathless.

  “So do it,” she said.

  He groaned. “I don’t believe you know what I mean.”

  “Oh, I think I do.” And what she was thinking made her more wet for him.

  He took her hand and dragged her to a tree, pushing her until her back was up against it. “I can’t be gentle,” he warned. “Not right now. I need this, Aimee.”

  “Take me.”

  With a growl, he untied his breeches and exposed himself. He was long and hard and pulsing red. Granted, they’d made love only a few times, but she’d never seen him so hard.

  He lifted her skirts, found her center with his thumb, and tweaked her nub, causing her to lay her head back against the tree and gasp. The exquisite touch was like lightning going through her body. This intense need had come from nowhere.

  “I’m sorry, Aimee.” But before she could say anything, he was thrusting inside her. “Oh, God,” he moaned. “You’re so wet already. It’s like butter.”

  She lifted her skirts more and wrapped one leg around his waist, barely feeling the frigid air that wound up her legs and under her skirts.

  Pinning her between the tree and his body, he lifted her other leg and wrapped it around his other hip. The action allowed him further penetration, and it felt exquisite.

  He pumped himself into her, fast and furious, holding her hands above her head. With every thrust, she gasped and found herself quickly coming toward an almost violent completion.

  “Come,” he said between clenched teeth. “Good God, Aimee, hurry.”

  She arched her back and cried out as her whole body coiled around itself. Her release was just as intense and forceful as she had thought it would be, and it went on and on.

  Simon thrust into her one last time, burying himself as far as he could go, shouting her name as his seed shot through her.

  For long moments they remained that way, her pinned against the tree, her legs wrapped around him, her breathing harsh and irregular.

  Simon kissed her neck, her throat, her chin, her lips, wherever he could reach. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he said with each kiss.

  “Sorry for what?” she asked, still in a daze.

  “For taking you so brutally.”

  She smiled, her eyes half open. “I loved every moment of it.”

  He drew his head back and looked at her in surprise before bursting into laughter. “You never cease to amaze me, Magpie.”

  “Good. It will keep our marriage from going stale.”

  He chuckled, kissing her neck one more time before sliding out of her.

  “Can we do that again sometime?” she asked.

  He groaned and hung his head. “You will unman me.”

  “I doubt that. I would think it would make you feel more manly.”

  He laughed again. “I swear, Magpie. I have no idea what to say to you sometimes.”

  He brought her a cup of melted snow and a strip of blanket to clean up with. When she was finished, she found him sitting against the same tree.

  “I feel we should carve our initials into it to commemorate the moment,” she said.

  He smiled and reached a hand up to her, pulling her down into his lap to kiss her thoroughly. “We could visit it on our anniversaries,” he said.

  “Mmm. I like that idea.” She laid her head on his shoulder as they both fell silent.

  “I didn’t hurt you?” he asked after a time.

  “Not at all.”

  He hugged her tighter. “You will tell me if I ever do.”

  “I will tell you if you ever do.” After a moment she said, “I don’t know what came over me.”

  “It happens sometimes when one finds oneself in a dangerous situation. I thought I could ignore it or at least control it, but the more we rode, the more I wanted you.”

  “I’m glad you stopped to do it, then.”

  He kissed the top of her head and settled her more comfortably on his lap.

  She dozed, enclosed in his strong arms and warmed by his body. When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to learn that an hour had passed.

  “Tell me about Rowland,” she said. “How did you know him?”

&
nbsp; “You will need to know the whole story before you hear about Rowland.”

  He held his cloak open and she snuggled deeper into him as he more securely wrapped the cloak around her, cocooning her in its warmth.

  “I was sent to King Philip’s court in Spain by Elizabeth to find out his thoughts on a Catholic alliance that he and Mary had been discussing.”

  “Mary is intent on bringing Catholicism back in favor,” Aimee said. “I’ve heard it discussed in France. If she can get France and Spain to agree, then it would be a great alliance that Elizabeth cannot ignore.”

  “Precisely,” Simon said. “Philip and I discovered a mutual love for chess, so it wasn’t difficult for us to become close. He asked me to deliver gold to Mary. Someone else was to deliver a letter detailing Philip’s plans to invade the Netherlands and eventually help Mary invade England.”

  Aimee gasped. “Those are some very far-reaching plans.”

  “Mary has always wanted to unite the English and Scottish crowns and become queen of both countries.”

  “No wonder Elizabeth has so many spies in Mary’s court.”

  Simon made a sound of agreement. “As you know, the ship sank. I made it to Edinburgh, and so did Rowland. He is a dispossessed Englishman who had found his way to Spain and hoped to find favor in Scotland. He was not in Philip’s court, to my knowledge, so he must have found the letter on another agent Philip had sent on that same ship. My guess is that the emissary with the letter died in the shipwreck, and Rowland found the letter on him and continued on to Scotland. I can only determine that he was going to tell Mary he was on her side in wanting a united Scotland and England, and he’d prove it by presenting her with the letter. Somehow he became a gentleman of the king’s Privy Chamber.”

  “And that’s why he said he had heard things and he thought to take them to Elizabeth and buy his way back to England,” Aimee said.

  “Not only that, but he possessed the letter from Philip to Mary that outlined their plans to invade England.”

  A self-prescribed spy. “Is that the letter that you took off him?”

  “Yes.”

  “The coup de grâce,” Aimee said thoughtfully. “Do you think Rowland’s plan would have worked?”