Highlander's Guardian

by Joanne Wadsworth

  Arthur grinned. “Well, about damn time. Good to see you came to your senses.”

  “Once we’ve returned to Duart with Lachlan and all has settled, I’ll sail for Dunvegan and collect her.”

  Arthur clapped him on the back. “Lachlan will be well pleased by the match you’ve made. Strengthening the bonds between the MacLeans and MacLeods holds great importance to him.”

  “I didnae marry her for that reason.”

  “Aye, I’m well aware.” His grin widened.

  “I only hope Rory will come to see so as well.” It should be his task to inform Rory of their vows, except he couldn’t take the risk of speaking to him this day when he needed to be away within mere hours.

  He sat at the side table and picked up his spoon. The mouth-watering scent of seafood stew wafted around him. Annie adored seafood, particularly fresh fish.

  From his wrist sheath, he removed his dagger, speared a sliver of beef from his trencher and bit into it. “I’ll need to ensure Rory is warned about the MacDonalds. At the inn, I overheard a conversation between Hugh and one of his warriors. They were the ones following her.”

  “I suspected a MacDonald would have been behind her stalking.” Arthur rolled his shirtsleeves up. “You might be interested to hear James has yet to return.”

  “He should have by now.”

  “Aye, I shall see if I can uncover his whereabouts. The fact he’s still missing does no’ sit well.”

  “Check if his warriors have returned.”

  “Will do.”

  Arthur left and Colin fetched additional weapons from his trunk and afterward, left in search of Rory. After hunting down his captain, he discovered Rory remained behind closed doors with the king. He paced the antechamber near the great hall as Rory’s man closed the door. “I’ve learnt of a threat to Annie by the MacDonalds. I want one of your men watching over her at all times.”

  “Of course. I’ve no’ long returned from assigning a guard to her for this eve’s ball.” Rory’s captain palmed the hilt of his sword. “The MacDonalds are always scheming. We’ll remain vigilant.”

  “Make sure you do.” Still on edge, regardless her safety was assured, he left the man and returned to his chamber to dress. He donned the black robe, slipped the white mask in place and opened his door to find Arthur waiting in the same attire, his green gaze watchful behind his mask’s eye cutouts. “Is there any sign of James?” he asked Arthur.

  “I overheard one of his warrior’s speak of a chest illness. He remains at The King’s Tavern to recover.”

  “The longer James stays away, the better.” Colin slid his hood over his head. “Now I need to find my wife.”

  They joined an excited and raucous crowd of extravagantly costumed guests heading along the passageway. In the great hall, hundreds and hundreds of people swarmed the area, double or triple the usual number. Hell, finding Annie in this gathering wouldn’t be easy. So many women wore wigs, and half those here now sported his wife’s distinctive long white-blond hair.

  “This is interesting.” Arthur muffled as he gripped the lower edge of his mask. “Where is your lady? What does she wear?”

  “I’ve no idea, and I should have asked. Let’s separate, and if you find her first, signal me.”

  “Aye, I shall.” Arthur walked off into the crowd.

  Colin eased around the throng toward the trestle tables pressed against the wall. The tables overflowed with large platters of food, from sweet meats to pastries presented on fine silver and glass tiered stands. Sugared fruits preserved from the summer, many of Annie’s favorites, had him searching for her first amongst the guests partaking of those delicacies. Annie would be driven to see all on offer, to taste and enjoy, but she wasn’t anywhere in sight.

  Moving along, he sidestepped past three blond-haired women wearing scandalously little. Their exposed bellies were adorned with gold chains and glittering precious gems. Low on their hips, their vibrant skirts of reds and pinks flared to the floor in sheer folds. The same wispy fabric covered their breasts and tied off at their backs with long ribbons and dangling beads which chimed as they swayed to the piper’s music floating through from the adjoining room. They were dressed as belly dancers from the orient. He’d heard of the people who lived in the east on a land of shifting sands, the weather so scorching they wore very little clothing. The translucent fabric of their costume also covered their lower faces and hid their identities, although none of the women had Annie’s beautiful midnight-blue eyes.

  More guests swarmed into the hall and as he searched for her, he tugged the tight neckline of his robe. If only he could jump onto one of the burgundy padded chairs at the side of the hall and shout Annie’s name, except calling attention to himself was the last thing he needed. Aye, he’d search for Rory or Elizabeth instead. Surely they would lead him to Annie.

  * * * *

  Annie eased back against the bright yellow plastered wall decorated with stunning tapestries of landscape and hunting scenes. A man attired in domino wearing a black hooded robe and full white mask circled the great hall clenching and unclenching his fists. Colin had said he’d be dressed as a monk, but each of the monks she’d stopped and spoken to thus far hadn’t been him. Maybe he was still preparing all he needed to for this eve, except why did the man in the black robe intrigue her so? Turning her gaze from him, she searched the crowd again for any sign of Rory or Elizabeth. She hadn’t a clue what either of them would be wearing, and so far, she’d not seen them as well.

  Restless, she pushed off the wall, intent on halting the robed man and curbing her curiosity.

  “Annie?” Another black-robed guest in domino stepped in front of her, his deep brogue giving his identity away.

  “Arthur.” She hugged him, and likely far too exuberantly before she stepped back and straightened her hand-painted mask. The full facial adornment was elaborately detailed and gave her the fine features of Cleopatra, Egypt’s legendary queen with her catlike eyes and ruby red lips. Her wig of dark brown locks was coiled high on her head and encircled by a headdress of gold plumes, while the wispy skirts of her white chiffon gown brushed the floorboards. “Thank goodness you found me.”

  “What are you wearing?” Arthur’s vivid green eyes widened behind his white eye cutouts.

  “I’m Cleopatra.” She fluttered her hand over the seductively plunging bodice with its matching deep V cut into the back, a gown that was impossible to wear with any undergarments. Her brisk movement sent the thin shoulder straps with their wing-like layer of chiffon swishing softly across her skin, as well as the gold bangles at her wrist jangling. Never had she felt so nervous and wickedly decadent at the same time. The thin fabric hugged her body with a silky touch and allowed the heat of the room to pass right over her. “I’m looking for my Caesar.”

  “As he’s looking for you.”

  “Pardon me, my queen.” A warrior wearing sandals with iron studs and armor made of metal strips over a red woolen tunic bowed before her. “May I have this dance?”

  “Nay, you may no’,” Arthur bit out as he whisked her onto the dance floor. “Where is your guard?”

  “Near the balcony doors, dressed in the same fashion as you.” At least two score of the men here were attired in domino. “Colin was supposed to be dressed as a monk but I’ve no’ seen him.”

  “A change of plans. Blending in with the crowd seemed a better choice. He wears what I do.” Frowning, he peered over her shoulder and she followed his gaze. “Is that the king?” he asked, astounded.

  “Aye, whispers are running rampant he’s dressed as Ares, the Greek god of war.” King James VI was richly costumed in full body armor, a shield and sword in hand and a magnificent red-plumed iron nasal helm adorning his head. “He looks magnificent with that full mask of white and gold.”

  “Dinnae let Colin hear you say that.” Arthur led her through the dance’s intricate moves with practiced ease. “Did you hear about James?”

  “Aye, he’s taken ill.
One of his warriors gave my maid his apologies. I was told he does no’ wish to spread his sickness about, but that he’ll return as soon as he’s able to ride. What of you? Have you heard any gossip swirling about the time I spent alone with James at the tavern?”

  “Everyone is too excited by the ball to worry about such a thing. You’re very fortunate with the timing.” He leaned forward. “Colin told me of your handfast. My congratulations.”

  “Thank you.” She couldn’t hold back her smile. “Is everything sorted for this eve? I’m aware of your plans.”

  “Aye, but for one last matter. I need a maid to deliver the tower guardsmen a celebratory tankard of ale at midnight.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “Stirred into the brew will be a sleeping potion.”

  “If there’s no danger to the servant, then I could ask my own maid. She’d no’ speak a word of what she’s done.”

  “Can she wear a mask? Most of the serving lasses have done so this eve and I had intended to ask one of them under the guise that the Captain of the Guard had made the request.”

  “Of course she can wear a mask. I have more than one in my trunk. Where do you need her to meet you?”

  “Your chamber would be best, a quarter afore twelve and no later. I’ll procure the ale now and leave it hidden in your room. When she delivers the drinks, I’ll be watching over her. I’ll no’ leave her alone.”

  “I know you—” Someone brushed against her from behind then slid his large hands over her hips. Colin. She would know his touch anywhere. “Oh, it appears our dance is done.”

  “Aye, your Caesar is here.” Arthur bowed and moved away into the crowd.

  “I’ve missed you.” Warm words whispered in her ear. “Let’s take a turn outside.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” She slid her hand through the crook of his arm and as she walked past her guard, stopped and whispered to him, “’Tis my guardian. You may wait here.”

  Her MacLeod guard nodded.

  Colin steered her outside and into the dark recesses of the palace’s moonlit garden. He pressed her against a wide trunk, tipped his mask up and stared into her eyes. “I never would have guessed you’d have worn a wig.”

  “I couldnae find you either, no’ when I searched for a monk.”

  “A change of plans.” Slowly, he traced a finger down the deep V of her bodice then leaned in and nuzzled her neck. “I cannae believe you are wearing something so risqué. You cannae unmask with this costume on and bring your good name into question.”

  “No one’s good name is brought into question once the masks are removed.” She slid her mask off, wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him. “Thank you for my gift. The rose was beautiful.”

  “I wish I could give you one each day.” He nipped her skin then laved it with his tongue.

  “Mmm, so do I.” She more than wished it.

  “Dance with me.” He slipped his arms around her waist, tucked her cheek against his chest and swayed slowly to the gentle melody of the tune drifting on the breeze.

  “This is no’ how one dances.”

  “’Tis the way I wish to dance with you.” He rubbed his body against hers.

  “Oh, I like it.” She stroked down his arms and tangled her fingers with his. “Are you ready for this eve?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  “How will I know all has gone well?”

  “There’s no way for me to send you word.” He backed her deeper into the shadows where thick bushes rose either side of them. He eased one finger under her shoulder strap and slid the flimsy chiffon down her arm. Her nipple puckered in the cold and she ached for the warmth of his mouth on her. “You are barely dressed.”

  “And you are making it more so.”

  “I long to touch you.” He cupped her breast, rubbed his thumb sensuously over the peak then dipped his head and drew the bud deep inside his mouth. He laved it with attention, until her knees wobbled and she clutched his broad shoulders. He was so big and strong, and all hers.

  “Colin.” She caught his face and brought his mouth to hers. She kissed him, one breathtaking kiss she hoped he wouldn’t forget as he headed out on his mission. “Come back to me once all is done.”

  “I will.” He slid her shoulder strap back into place. “I wish I never had to leave.”

  “I wish it too.” A shooting star flew in a wide arc across the sky and she closed her eyes to claim a wish on it. “I wish we were no’ about to be parted. And I wish for a honeymoon, where there are no chiefs to rescue and no’ a soul to disturb us.”

  “You shall have your honeymoon, the moment I come for you.” He kissed her closed eyelids. “’Tis time. I must be away.”

  “You’ll be careful?” She opened her eyes, slid her mask back into place as he did the same with his.

  “Always.” He guided her down the trail and back inside to where Arthur waited next to her guardsman. Colin nodded at Arthur. “Take Annie back to her chamber.” To the guardsman, he said, “Ensure you collect Mistress MacLeod from her chamber in the morn. She’s no’ to roam Holyrood’s halls without a guard.”

  She squeezed Colin’s fingers. “I promise to be careful.”

  “And ’tis my job to ensure you do so. Take care, scamp.” He dipped his head and left. Weaving through the crowd, he disappeared, and well before she was ready to let him go.

  “We too must leave.” Arthur took her elbow and steered her from the hall. “Let’s find your maid.”

  They passed a stream of servants carrying trays with goblets of wine to be raised at midnight to celebrate the unmasking. Picking up her pace, she hurried to her room, only her maid wasn’t there as she should have been. “Mayhap she’s in Elizabeth’s chamber.”

  “I’ll go and check.” Arthur left and returned moments later shaking his head. “Where else could she be?”

  “There’s a possibility she got called away to aid the palace staff.”

  “Then I’ll have to deliver the ale myself. I’m running out of time to find another maid who might deliver it for me.” He picked up the tray holding the pitcher and tankards from her side table.

  “Will they accept it from you?”

  “I can all but try.”

  “Arthur, nay. Allow me to deliver it. I’ll change into my simplest gown. I have a plain white mask I could exchange for this one.” She wouldn’t be the cause of Colin, Arthur, or his men getting caught. “I willnae be recognizable, and no one will guess the maid was me.”

  “That’s—”

  “Surely ’tis best for the guards to slumber rather than for you and Colin to take the tower by force. Turn around.” He did and she removed the gold-plumed headdress from her wig then slipped behind the screen and changed into a navy kirtle with a knotted belt. She tossed a black and gray plaid over her shoulders and in the looking glass, placed the new mask over her face. “All right. What do you think?”

  Arthur turned and studied her. He slowly nodded. “You do look like one of the maids, although Colin will kill me if he discovers I involved you and no’ a servant.”

  “I’ll be in and out in no time, and he none the wiser.” She raced past him before he could change his mind. “Come.”

  He mumbled as he joined her, clearly not liking what he’d had to agree to.

  Around the perimeter of the bailey, they crept until they reached the circular tower. Four guardsmen walked out the door, and she and Arthur slunk into a darkened corner along the midnight-shrouded stone wall.

  “That’ll be the change of the guards,” Arthur whispered in her ear. “Tell the new guardsman you’ve brought a celebratory drink. That the Captain of the Guard requested it from the kitchens. Set the tray down and leave, immediately. I dinnae want you in there any longer than the time it takes for you to do that. Are we clear?”

  “Very, but what if they dinnae partake of the ale?”

  “That’s no concern of yours. In and out. Make it quick.” He glanced across the b
ailey toward the stables where something within the shadows caught his eye. Three men crept toward them. “Damn. ’Tis Colin with Ian and Murdock. Go now, lass, afore the captain arrives.”

  She draped her shawl over her head, took the tray from his hands and walked into the tower. The first pull of air into her lungs had her gasping for breath. The air was so rotten, her stomach heaved. Ignoring the stench as best she could, she stepped up to the barred door. Goodness, how on earth did Colin expect to get through here if not by ensuring the guards’ compliance first?

  “Excuse me,” she called out. “I bring refreshments.”

  A warrior in a padded leather war coat scraped the steel door open and leered at her through stringy black hair. Behind him, a single candle-lit lantern hooked on the wall cast an eerie glow over the blackened gray-stone. “What do ye want, lass?”

  “The Captain of the Guard sent me with ale. He thought you too might like to celebrate the king’s masquerade.”

  “Over there will be fine.” He jerked his head toward the table near the stairwell.

  “And the other guardsmen?” No matter what Arthur had instructed, she couldn’t leave without ensuring the guards had all been served. Colin’s life could well depend on it.

  “Above-stairs.” He closed the barred door and turned the lock with a loud clunk, enclosing her inside with him. “I’m right thirsty. Pour me a tankard.”

  “Could you call the others? The captain insisted you all partake.” She set the tray down with a rattle, poured him a mug and handed it across.

  “Aye, I can call them.” He ambled to the stairs, took a hearty gulp of his drink and bellowed, “Lads, we have us some ale and a fine lass to serve it, compliments of the captain.”

  She stepped around the wonky-legged table, putting it squarely between her and the coming guards as she poured another three drinks. Across the station, something moved beyond the slots in the barred entrance door. Golden eyes glinted from under a dark hood. Colin. Drat. Arthur must have told her she was the maid.