‘I did not want to leave and not return this to...you.’ Her voice shook and there was simply no way to control it.
‘My thanks, la... Mistress,’ he said, taking it from her.
He met her gaze and she searched for something of the man she knew, the man she loved, there. The silence grew uncomfortable and lengthy until the other man interrupted.
‘Your escort is waiting outside for you,’ he said. ‘See her there.’ The manservant was at her side now, waiting.
Niall said nothing else to her, nodding slightly and then stepping back. Letting her go.
Fia gathered herself and walked out of the room, trying not to lose control. She stopped just outside the door, motioning the servant she would follow. They began talking before the door even closed and she heard everything.
‘I can see why you kept her. A fine piece in bed, was she?’ the other one said.
‘Aye, she was that,’ Niall said, laughing. ‘I did not plan on her being part of my work, but I was not about to refuse her when she begged me to touch her.’
‘Will she cry of love and promises to the Mackintosh, Niall? ’tis important that there be no problems or complications now.’
‘Nay. She understood it from the first.’
‘You could arrange to keep her, if the King grants your petition.’
‘Do you think he will?’ Niall asked.
‘I suspect that you will be Niall, Earl of Kelso, before the end of the day, my friend,’ their host said. ‘The King has been trying to teach you a lesson. With what you’ve done, I think he will grant his godson’s plea for mercy.’
She turned to the door and could see in the small opening. Niall met her gaze then and nodded.
‘Once my titles and lands and my monies are returned, why would I need her?’ He smiled—not the wicked one that had teased her heart, but a cold and calculating one. ‘I could arrange for a woman as my leman if I need one.’
‘If the King plans to marry you to Sinclair’s daughter, you will want a leman to warm your bed and your privy bits, Niall. She is a cold-hearted bitch.’
‘I care not as long as she brings me that dowry,’ he said, now closing the door in her face.
Fia stumbled back into the wall before she walked quickly down the hallway. Who was that man? How could he have said such things about her? He’d not done this to save his family, for he’d never once spoken of his mother or sister to Lord Lindsay. He spoke not of honour restored, but wealth and position.
She had been such a fool to believe a word of what he said. From the start, he had lied to her. While he had busily fooled the outlaws into believing he was one of them, he’d fooled her into thinking he was noble in his purpose. And she had gone along with all of it. Worse, she’d fallen in love with him.
Fia wrapped her cloak around her shoulders and walked from that house, never looking back. She’d learned her lesson well this time.
Alan stared at her as she came down the steps towards him. His narrowed gaze told her that he saw and knew more than she wished he did. She looked away as he helped her on to the waiting horse and then followed at his side back up the main road towards the city.
And away from him for ever.
* * *
Niall clutched his mother’s book so tightly that the leather made imprints in his palm. The shock on her face as he disavowed her, denied her, was horrible to watch. Now, as he peered through the window out on to the street, he noticed how she carried herself with such dignity and grace.
‘Here, you need this,’ Alex said, handing him a glass.
Niall swallowed it without ever looking at it. The strong spirit burned a path down from his throat into his gut. He held it out for more.
‘I would say you succeeded. The young woman does indeed hate you,’ his damned cousin said.
‘A clean break.’
‘Aye. She will not look back.’
Though his cousin was not looking out of the window, he was correct in both ways—Fia never turned her head towards the house and she would never be tempted to return to him.
‘So, enough of that,’ Alex said, lifting the thrice-filled glass from his hand. ‘We must prepare for your audience.’
‘Do you think he will listen? If not for me, then for my mother and for Mary?’ He pushed his hands through his hair. ‘Good God, I have not seen Mary since they took her from my mother and sent her off. I have no idea where she is, if she yet lives.’
‘And your mother remains in the convent? Has she taken vows?’
‘Aye, but she has refused that step. But I was turned away three years past when I tried to see her.’
‘The King has been solidifying his control after decades of turmoil and a lack of a sound treasury. That is why he wanted to solve the problem between those two clans. They are both powerful and wealthy. And, to your benefit, he has been placing men loyal to him in control of the areas near the borders. He does not wish to see England coming here again in his lifetime.’
‘So, you think there is a chance?’
The discussion went on for a while more as Alex reviewed his story and advised his approach. He would throw himself on his godfather’s mercy to save his mother and sister. The only thing that would assure his success would be the identity of the one behind the plan to disrupt the western Highlands.
And that was the one piece of the puzzle he did not have.
Chapter Twenty-Two
She’d never been to The Mackintosh house in Edinburgh before. Well, she’d not been to the city either. Now, Alan led the way through another gate, the Nether Bow, and right up the main road towards the intimidating castle at the top. Though the King chose to stay at the abbey for comfort or even at Dunfermline across the firth where his father was buried, most state business and matters of importance to the kingdom were handled at the castle. So, those having business with the King’s court maintained houses within the city for the ease of conducting those matters.
Alan kept glancing back at her and she tried to ignore his sympathetic expression. He’d tried to tell her. He’d tried to help her and she had refused him. Good Lord, she sent an angry crowd after him!
‘Alan,’ she said. He slowed and came to her side. ‘I beg your pardon for what I did in Crieff.’
‘Ah, Fia, do not worry over it,’ he said. Knocking on his head, he laughed. ‘I have a hard one like my da says.’
Soon they came to a street, or a wynd as they called it there, and Alan directed her to a narrow but tall house in the middle of a block of similar structures. She’d never seen anything like it. But, here in the city, houses looked pushed into every nook and cranny possible. And unlike a keep made of stone, most of these houses were built of wood.
A servant came out and took hold of her horse so she could climb down. Alan did the same and then led her inside. Glancing around, she was welcomed by a woman whom Alan said was the housekeeper. In many ways as the woman showed her through the house, she reminded Fia of Mistress Murray. She also took Alan, though a Cameron and old enough to see to himself, under her wing and sent him to the kitchen to eat.
It was as he passed her in the narrow corridor leading back to the kitchen that a memory struck her. Forced to move against the wall, she remembered back to Crieff when he had pushed her against the wall and argued for her to accompany him. He glanced at her and apologised then as he moved on. But she was trying to force the words back into her mind.
I followed one of the men when he left the camp to his destination.
Fia followed Alan to the kitchen and just watched him, hoping the rest would come back to her. He accepted every morsel that he was offered and he smiled often.
I followed one of the men when he left the camp to his destination.
‘Alan, I need to speak with you,’ she said. He would re
member the rest of it, but somehow he knew that another was behind the attacks. He’d said that, too, even though Fia had ignored it. He shoved a hunk of meat in his mouth and washed it down with ale before following her to the front chamber near the door.
‘Are you well, Fia? You look a bit peaked.’ Then he blushed and mumbled, ‘Never mind, I should not have said that. After all you have been through, you must be exhausted and heart-sore.’
How could men be so thickheaded and nice at the same time? Shaking her head, she thought about what she should do. He was correct—her heart hurt. She would never be with the man she loved. If he stood to be an earl if the King restored his title and lands, he would be above her in status and be out of her world for ever. If he stood high in the King’s favour, everything would be his. And he would not, could not, be hers.
If he did not, and she did believe his words to her on their last night together, his family would suffer. His callous words to her in front of his kin did not have the sound of truth to her. ’twas like he was doing whatever he could to push her away from him.
‘Alan, you said something to me in Crieff and I cannot remember it clearly. Did you say you got to the camp and followed someone out of it? Did you follow the man called Lundie?’
Alan stared at her and then nodded.
‘Where did he go?
‘He went to Keppoch and met with Alastair MacDonald.’
‘Of the Clan Ranald of Lochaber?’ she asked. ‘Are you certain?’ At his nod, Fia nodded, too. ‘You know what that means?’
‘Aye. Clan Ranald is behind the troubles.’
The proof Niall needed was in her hands now. And Alan’s. But would he help the man who’d just broken her heart? Would she?
‘I need you to speak to Niall and tell him what you know. He was sent by the King to find the culprit behind it.’
‘Niall? Niall Corbett, who kidnapped you and who... I beg your pardon, Fia. I cannot believe you would even want to think about him, let alone let him seem the hero before the King and Brodie.’
‘He needs to complete the task the King set for him.’
‘Why the hell do you care if he succeeds? You should be cursing him to hell and the Highlands right now. I heard, you know. I heard and saw him with you. I know what he wanted from you.’
‘Alan. You can still tell Brodie all of it.’
He was correct—she should be hating Niall and using every one of Rob Mackintosh’s bad words to curse his fate to the heavens and anyone who would listen. But, she loved him. And she had faith in him that his heart had spoken the truth to her. He needed to save his family. With this information, at least one of them would get their dreams fulfilled.
‘Oh, God, Fia!’ he said, staring at her then. ‘I saw the two of you and how he looked at you. You love him, do you not?’ She nodded. ‘And he loves you.’ She nodded again, certain of it.
He spat out a word that made the housekeeper gasp in horror and Fia laughed. Then he nodded and trudged out of the house.
A very strange feeling filled her then and Fia knew she had done the right thing in this. Relief. Satisfaction. Done. She would go home now. It would all work itself out and her life would be her own now.
It was over now.
* * *
He’d thought the night before had passed slowly, and it had. But this day moved at a slug’s pace. Niall understood it was the anticipation of meeting the King. Alex told him that they would sup with the King privately, to discuss this family matter. If anyone could convince the King to mercy, it would be Alex.
The fact that Alex had not done so before was more about his attention to other matters of state over in France for the last decade. And, he supposed that men who held that much sway over the King must pick and choose their causes well or lose influence. And clearly other matters had priority to Alex over his mother’s sister and niece.
Niall’s leg was tormenting him as well. The days of travel had allowed it to stiffen. He needed to stretch it, as Glynis had told him, and he needed to walk or he would be immobile by the time he was summoned for the meeting. So, with some time before even the noon meal, Niall decided to walk to the abbey gates and back.
He’d only got around the corner from his cousin’s house when he was grabbed and dragged into an alley. If he’d been steady on his feet or had remembered the damn walking stick, no man the size or ability of his assailant would have succeeded. Fearing he would fracture his leg the rest of the way through the bone—as Glynis said another fall would—he did not fight back. Oh, his fists would work well once they stopped.
He swung once, losing his balance as he did, and soon found his face shoved up against the wall of the building next to him and a knee in his back to keep him there. The man made no move for the purse tied inside his tunic and did not attack him further.
‘Who are you? What do you want?’ he asked.
‘I am not here to take anything from you,’ the man said, turning him around to face him. ‘She sent me.’
Niall could not think of whom that could be. He had no ties to any woman in the city. Except the one he’d just sent away...
Fia.
‘Alan Cameron,’ the man said. ‘Brodie sent me to find the lass.’
‘She is here, hale and hardy,’ he explained.
‘Aye, I know that. But she wants me to tell you something.’
Niall took a breath. Why send a message through this man? A Cameron at that. ‘Tell me then.’
‘I am a tracker,’ he said. ‘I find things. I find people. I found Fia at the camp.’
‘You were at the camp? When?’
‘Just as the storm hit. I waited it out and then came up the mountain.’ He’d been there? ‘I left and followed your man, the one Fia said was called Lundie.’ The man shook his head and looked up at the sky. ‘I thought she was safe enough. I saw how it was between the two of you.’
‘And you followed him?’ Niall asked. If he’d tracked Lundie, he might know who was behind it all. Could he?
‘I do not think you deserve the knowledge, but Fia asked me to tell you.’ He glared at Niall and then shrugged. ‘Your Lundie met with Alastair MacDonald of Keppoch.’
Niall could not breathe. He could not think. Was the chief of the Clan Ranald of Lochaber the one plotting to break the alliance between the Mackintoshes and The Camerons? It all fell into place. The Ranalds of Lochaber had been contesting Mackintosh ownership of some lands near their borders. But, they’d been unwilling to challenge both the Chattan Confederation and The Camerons, too.
‘So tell your king and I am certain proof will be found. I will be telling Brodie as soon as he arrives in the city.’
With that, the man let go of him and turned to leave. His thoughts muddled just then with both excitement and confusion.
‘Why did she send you? Why tell me now?’
Alan Cameron did not speak, he glared at Niall, waiting for him to figure it out. ‘She did it for me?’ His throat tightened at the truth.
‘Aye, you daft prick! She did it for you.’ The man walked away, muttering all manner of rude comments to himself.
Niall stood there, shocked by her gift to him. In sharing this with him, she’d made it possible for him to regain everything he’d lost. In spite of his ugly words and denial of her, Fia had given him his future and restored his past. Even knowing that it would separate them for ever. He stumbled his way back to Alex’s house to ready himself for what would now be a successful meeting with the King.
* * *
Hours later, he stood as the Earl of Kelso, high now in the favour of the King, his godfather. As the King raised a cup to his good fortune, Niall knew he’d never felt so empty as he did at that moment. For in gaining everything he desired, he’d lost the one thing he loved.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Fia kept her head down as she embroidered the fabric in her hands. The vibrant threads would remain bright and visible when the tapestry was hung on the wall behind the dais in the hall. Arabella had been planning it and all three of them—the lady, Ailean and Fia—had been sewing it for weeks now. Well, since her return to Drumlui and the Mackintoshes.
She smiled at something Arabella said, not truly listening now, and continued her part of the scene. It would depict a hunt in the woods with a huge antlered stag and Mackintosh warriors. The colours favoured in their tartans were there—red and blue and green.
‘Ailean? Would you see if the cook has more of those cakes that were at table last evening? I fear I have this strange desire for one,’ Arabella said.
‘I will go, my lady,’ Fia said, carefully placing the embroidery aside. ’twas her task to see to the lady’s needs and comforts and not Ailean’s.
‘Nay, Fia,’ Arabella said with a shake of her head. ‘Ailean?’
Ah, so this was to be the time, then? Five weeks had passed and now Arabella would get to it. Fia watched as the lady’s cousin left the room as ordered to fetch a non-existent cake. A mere pretence to prepare for the questioning. Truly, she admired the lady’s restraint in this. Five weeks with nary a question other than the one asked on her return.
Are you well, Fia?
Fia understood what was being asked and wanted to scream out so many things, but she did not. She simply nodded and went with her mother back to the village. Even her mother avoided asking too many things and chose to ask about the places Fia had seen, since Bradana had never left the area around her village during her entire life.
It was a comfortable topic. Fia spoke of Crieff and Edinburgh and had her mother laughing over Mistress Murray and her lads. She even managed to never mention his name during all of it.
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