Betrayed

by Bertrice Small

  He chuckled. "Yer a brazen piece of goods, wife," he told her, but he did not sound displeased with her at all.

  Colin MacDonald had no sooner finished dressing than Roderick Dhu ushered in a royal page. "The lad comes from the king," he said dourly.

  "What is it, lad?" Nairn asked the boy.

  "The king would speak in private with yer lady, sir," the page told them. "I am to accompany her to the castle."

  "Why does he wish to speak with my wife?"

  "Is this not the lady who spoke out so boldly in the king's hall the opening day of the parliament?" the page replied.

  "I am," Fiona admitted.

  "Then ye are the lady the king wishes to speak with," the page said firmly. Then he said confidentially, "I think he means to scold ye, lady. He was verra angry that day."

  "Was he indeed, lad?" Fiona said, unable to help the small smile that touched her mouth. "He means me no harm, Colly," she reassured her husband. "I think the lad is right. I will go with him and return soon, I promise."

  "Mistress!" Nelly came forward and handed her Johanna. "Take the bairn for safety's sake, my lady." She slipped a sling of warm plaid about Fiona's neck and tucked the baby into it so that it lay cradled against Fiona's bosom. "Aye," she said with a small chuckle. "That will do nicely. No man, even a king, can be harsh to a woman with a tiny bairn clinging to her."

  Fiona bit her lip, restraining her laughter, and when she had gone with the page, Nairn said to Nelly, "Yer as clever a lass as yer mistress is, Nelly. When do ye intend wedding poor Roderick?"

  "When we return to Nairns Craig," Nelly said calmly. " 'Tis time, I'm thinking, that we settled down properly, my lord."

  Roderick Dhu looked stunned at this revelation. "Yer finally ready?" he asked, amazed, for Nelly had held him off forever, it seemed. "What has happened to change yer mind, Nelly lass?"

  "I saw how easily a woman might lose the man she loves," Nelly told him honestly. "And I do love ye, ye great, gangling gawk of a man."

  ***

  James Stewart looked at Fiona with a sharp eye. In her fine wool skirts and her creamy silk blouse, a length of plaid about her, she was the picture of a highland chieftain's wife.

  "What have ye tucked into that shawl?" he demanded of her.

  "My youngest daughter, Johanna, named for yer queen," she replied. "She was born a bit over four months ago. I could not leave her, my liege, when ye called me."

  "Ye managed to leave her the first day of the parliament," he said dryly. "Why is today different-or are ye attempting to gain my sympathy because of yer recent maternity, lady?''

  "On the day ye so shamefully arrested the chieftains," Fiona replied blandly, "my maidservant looked after my bairns. Now she must watch over my husband's mother, who has been made unwell by all the excitement of the gathering, my liege."

  "How many bairns?"

  "Three, so far. The eldest is a son, Alastair James. The second, a daughter, Mary," Fiona responded. "Ye have two daughters, I am told."

  "Margaret and Isabella," he answered. "I do not ask ye here, lady, to discuss our offspring. Ye have disappointed me, Fiona Hay. Why did ye return my coin?"

  "I will not inform upon my husband, my liege," she said. "Nor will I betray his family. Ye have no right to ask it of me. Besides, I am not privy to the Lord of the Isles' thoughts. Nairns Craig is on the opposite side of Scotland from Islay. As for my husband, he is loyal to his brother, it is true, but he is not an instigator of mischief. In all the time I have been with Nairn, I have been to Islay only once, and that immediately after I was taken. There is naught I can tell ye. Now, let me return to my husband. Ye have forced me to lie to him once more, for I shall have to tell him ye scolded me severely for my outburst in the hall last week. We have no other business, my liege."

  "I will release ye for now, Fiona MacDonald," he told her, "but there may come a time when I need ye again. Ye canna refuse me. I am yer king and yer overlord, woman. Will ye break yer fealty to me?"

  "As I am pledged to ye, my lord, so were ye pledged to me," Fiona answered him fiercely. "When ye forced me into yer service three years ago, ye broke yer trust with me. As I was pledged to give ye service, ye were bound to protect me and my honor. I have served ye well, James Stewart, but ye have not kept yer part of the bargain between overlord and liege woman. I will promise ye this. I will not rebel against ye as my king, but neither will ye demand service of me again. Ye have not the right to do so any longer." She inclined her head to him then and turned to go, but suddenly she stopped, swiveling her head about. "Be advised, my liege. The Lord of the Isles feels ye have shamed him publicly. He may seek to retaliate simply to balance the scales between ye. He will be a good ally after that, though, and ye can trust him, for his sense of honor and justice is a strong one." With that, Fiona left.

  He let her go. The truth was that she was no longer important to him. By challenging her he had closed the book on them. Her warning he accepted as a pledge of her good faith, but he did not give it serious consideration. Certainly The MacDonald saw James Stewart's determination. Surely a week in the royal dungeon cooling his heels had reinforced the king's will. It was unlikely that The MacDonald would precipitate any foolish action against the king. No. James Stewart now had the highlands firmly under his control.

  "What did he want?" Nairn asked her when she returned to their tent.

  Fiona laughed. "It was as the lad said. He scolded me for my bold tongue, but I reminded him that highland women are outspoken, and then I sent my regards to my former mistress, the queen. I do not think he is pleased with me, Colly, but what have I really done but speak the truth? He knew it, and so he sent me on my way."

  Colin MacDonald drew his wife into his arms. “I never want to lose ye, Fiona mine," he said. "Ye must not be so brazen and bold, sweeting." His big hand caressed her dark head.

  Fiona laughed again and, pulling away from him, looked into his face. "Telling me to not be brazen or bold is like asking the sun to not rise, please," she teased him. "I am who I am, my lord, and verra unlikely to change, I fear. I think it is a good thing that ye love me for the way I am." Then she drew his head down to hers and kissed him softly. "I have missed ye, Colly. I have missed ye verra, verra much."

  The smoky hint of passion in her voice was tempting. His grip about her tightened. His eyes narrowed as he contemplated her and the delights they were about to share. She smiled up seductively at him. It was an outrageous and blatant invitation.

  Then Roderick Dhu's voice broke the spell. "The lord is calling for ye to come to his pavilion immediately, my lord."

  "Dammit!" Fiona swore softly, and her husband laughed.

  ''I'll be back as quickly as I can, sweeting," he told her, kissing the tip of her nose.

  Fiona smiled, watching him go. She had managed to turn his thoughts from her visit to the king. Pray God she would never be put into such a position again. She wondered what Colin MacDonald would think if he ever learned that his abduction of her had been carefully orchestrated by James Stewart. And what would he do if he learned that Alastair was not his natural born son but the offspring of Angus Gordon? She was fortunate he was such a trusting man with a basically sweet nature. But he could be as determined and strong as she was, Fiona knew. She comforted herself with the knowledge that she was a good wife to him, and always had been. Moreover, she was finally willing to admit she was in love with her big highland husband. Meeting Hamish Stewart had been wonderful, yet frightening. What if Black Angus had been with the king? How could she have faced him? He would have despised her, and she could not have borne it. Angus would have believed the worst, as he had always been wont to do. At least Colin loved her for good or bad.

  ***

  When Fiona awoke in the morning, Colin was already up and dressing. She stretched herself, enjoying the sensation as she did so.

  "Yer awake," he said. "It isn't quite dawn, but we should be under way as quickly as possible."

  "How late were ye?"
she asked, wondering why he had not wakened her and made love to her as he had earlier intended.

  "The chieftains had much talking to do," he answered, but no more.

  "Tell me that yer brother will not be foolish," she begged.

  "Alexander has been insulted by James Stewart. That insult must be redressed. Ye know that is the way of it, sweeting."

  Fiona climbed from their camp bed. "So yer brother, having sworn fealty to the king, breaks that fealty and strikes back at James Stewart. What, pray tell, do ye think the king will do, Colly? Do ye believe that he will let it go? Or will he strike back, too? And then it begins anew. The highlands aflame. Crops and cattle destroyed. Women, bairns, and old folk driven from their homes, hounded to their deaths. For what, my lord? Will this redress either your brother's pride or the equally vast pride of James Stewart? Why must we all suffer the conceit and arrogance of those who rule us?"

  Putting his arms about her, he tried to comfort her. "Ye don't understand, Fiona mine," he said gently.

  She pulled away from him, outraged. "Don't understand? Ye dare to accuse me of not understanding? I understand all too well, my lord. It is verra simple. Men would rather fight. Women would not. There is no more to it, Colin MacDonald. Only that!"

  "Hurry and dress, sweeting," he said, ignoring her logic, for it conflicted with his own, and he was certain he was right. "I want to get home to Nairns Craig as quickly as possible. There is much to do to get ready." He cinched a wide leather belt about his waist.

  "Get ready for what?" she demanded.

  Tipping her chin up, he brushed her lips lightly. "Don't be long," he said with infuriating charm, and then he left her.

  Fiona shook her head. What mischief were the MacDonalds up to, and what would the cost to ordinary folk be? Pulling on her skirts and footwear, she called to Nelly to bring Johanna so she might nurse the bairn before they departed. What would be would be. Her main goal was to protect her children and Moire Rose from the chaos that would undoubtedly come.

  She thought as they rode that day of how relatively peaceful her childhood had been despite just this sort of squabbling going on about her. She remembered that Black Angus had once told her Hay Tower and Brae escaped the general mayhem because of their relative isolation. Nairns Craig, while inaccessible to direct attack, was near enough to the town of Nairn, the seat of the head of the Rose family, and Cawdor Castle, which had once been home to an evil king called Macbeth, to not be overlooked in any factional fighting between the king's forces and the highlanders, should it come to that. She hoped whatever the Lord of the Isles was planning would not be so dreadful that the king would feel bound to retaliate by setting the highlands aflame. Especially with the autumn coming. She hoped the king would go to Islay to take his revenge should he need to, but she knew he wouldn't. Punishing the highlands would be easier than taking to sea to reach Islay.

  She was frightening herself needlessly, Fiona decided. Alexander MacDonald was an honorable man. He had sworn his loyalty to James Stewart. His brief sojourn as the king's "guest" had certainly angered and embarrassed him, but his retaliation would more than likely be a firm protest the king would understand. James Stewart would let it stand, knowing the Lord of the Isles meant nothing more by it than having the last word. Certainly the king would comprehend that, and they would all go on living in peace. Aye! Of course! That was how it would be. No one wanted to rip apart the fragile peace that they had sought for so long between the king and the lord. The king was clever. He would fathom the subtleties of it all.

  It was good to be home. The servants had not slacked off in their duties while their mistress was away. The hall was sparkling, a bowl of roses on the high board, the fireplaces clean, the plate shining. Alastair ran happily about, delighted to be free of the confines of the tent, from which he had rarely escaped. His personal nursemaid greeted him joyously, and the two hurried off hand in hand to see the little boy's pony in the stables. Mary would have followed after her brother, but her own personal servant swooped her up for a nap after the long ride. The baby was nursed in the comfort of her own hall, by her own log fire, then turned over to her servant.

  Moire Rose sat in her own familiar place opposite her daughter-in-law. "I've done all the traveling I ever hope to do," she said firmly, "and I've seen a Stewart king. Ye were right, Fiona, he was not much to see." She chuckled. " 'Tis good to be back by my own hearth with Nairn safe. I would have died myself had the king executed him like he did MacRurie, MacArthur, and that devil, James Campbell."

  "The Lord of the Isles is plotting some revenge on the king for the insult he believes James Stewart visited upon him," Fiona said.

  "Aye," Moire Rose answered. "He would, of course."

  "It is wrong!" Fiona's voice was near to shouting.

  Her mother-in-law looked surprised by the tone. “Why, Fiona lassie, 'tis the way of the highlands to revenge a slight. We have always done so and always will do so. To do less would be weakness."

  "If every time someone looks cross-eyed at another someone," Fiona said, trying to master her emotions, "a fight will ensue, how will we ever stop feuds, madam?"

  "We will not, Fiona. It is our way." She reached over and patted her daughter-in-law with a bony hand. "Nairns Craig has never had its defenses breached in all the years it has stood here on this spine of rock. It has been here my whole life, my father's life, and long before him. I've waited out a few sieges in my time, lassie."

  ***

  Nairn made love to his wife. It was a long, sweet bout of tender touches, hot mouth fusing on hot mouth, and skin that tingled in the wake of a thousand kisses. Twice they made each other cry out with pleasure, but afterward, his head upon her breasts, his ragged breathing finally slowing to normal, he sensed her unease.

  "What frightens ye so about the normal course of events, Fiona mine?''

  "If Alexander is planning something dreadful, don't answer his call, Colly," she begged him.

  "He is my brother, sweeting."

  Fiona sat up, suddenly forcing him from his comfortable pillow. "I am yer wife," she said quietly. "I am the mother of yer bairns. Do ye not owe me a greater loyalty than ye owe him?"

  "Alexander and I are bound by blood, sweeting."

  "We are bound by God," she replied. "Would ye place the Lord of the Isles above God, Colin MacDonald? Would ye dare?"

  "Aye, I would," he said. He hated it when she spoke to him with such logic. It wasn't womanly. "I would put my brother above God because I shall have to answer to my brother in this life. I shall not have to answer to God until I die, and I shall make my confession repenting my sins, including my loyalty to Alexander MacDonald, before that event takes place."

  “If ye have the good fortune to die in yer bed, and how many of ye highland warriors do?" Fiona asked him with devastating effect.

  "Don't speak on it," he gently scolded her. "Ye will bring bad fortune to us all."

  "I canna help it," she told him. "I have this great sense of foreboding, Colly. It follows me about like a dark cloud. I canna rid myself of it, though I would. Don't go if the lord calls ye!"

  He flung himself from their bed. "Yer being foolish," he told her. "I will not disappoint my brother, for I am pledged to him."

  "Yer pledged to the king, too," she said angrily.

  "The king is not my blood kin," he shouted at her. "Besides, Nair has never fallen, Fiona mine. Ye and the bairns will be safe."

  "So yer mam has told me," Fiona snapped, arising also.

  Their views were too disparate for them to come to agreement on the matter, and so for the time being they avoided it altogether. Nelly and Roderick Dhu handfasted themselves in the hall before their lord and lady as well as the castle folk. When the priest came, they would repeat their vows, but they did not wish to wait any longer. Nelly, her carrot-red hair loose to signify her maiden state, cried happily when her new husband laid a length of his plaid across her chest, fastening it with a fine pewter pin. Fiona had provided
a small celebratory feast, and Nairn honored the two valued servants by declaring a half holiday for all his people. It was a happy time.

  Outside in the hills about them autumn had come. The trees blazed with scarlet, gold, tawny orange, and sunny yellow. The loch near them and the lochs they could see in the distance as the leaves fell from the trees, leaving naught but bare branches, were a wonderful shade of bright, deep blue. There seemed to be a peace upon the land. The men hunted deer and boar for the winter store. Fiona and Nelly gathered the seeds of the lacy white flower of the wild carrot that each would ingest to prevent conception.

  "I'll bring no more bairns into this world until I am certain Nairn is here to be father to them," Fiona said. "The lord has not deigned his mischief yet, and until it is over and done with, I don't feel safe."

  "I know," Nelly agreed. "When I ask him what will happen, my Roddy just pats me like some pretty animal and says, 'Now, then, lassie, such matters are not for the likes of ye.' The great gawk! Does he not think I can understand that a feud with a king can bring naught but trouble to the highlands? What is the matter with men, lady?"

  Fiona shook her head. "I do not understand them myself, Nelly," she told her servant. "Ohhh, look over there! 'Tis a great patch of white flowers for us to harvest. We just have time before dark."

  The two young women worked diligently, garnering the seeds they needed. When they had finished, the sun was close to setting, a half circle of fiery orange showing just above a bank of dark purple clouds edged in gold. Already the evening star gleamed in the darkening blue above them. As they walked the distance to the castle gate, Nelly suddenly cried out and pointed. Fiona stared, seeing a flame spring up on a distant hill. Was it a woodland fire? she wondered nervously. Then her heart almost rose in her throat to choke her as she saw another fire on another hill, and another, and yet another.

  " 'Tis a signal of some sort," Nelly said. "Look! Before our gates the men are lighting one, too."