“Surely your cousin cannot be serious!” Meghan panted as she ran to keep up with him.
He stopped abruptly and whirled around. Meghan collided with his chest and he pushed her aside impatiently. “I do no recall asking for the pleasure-–“ he drew out the word sarcastically-–“of your company.”
Meghan looked taken aback and William turned to leave but she grabbed his sleeve.
“What shall we do?”
“Do?” he barked. “Why, leave for London to rescue the proud Innes. Oh yes, and your betrothed.” He spat the last word, suddenly so mad at his cousin, at King Edward, at this ridiculous woman in front of him that he could scarce think.
“But—“ she began.
“What?” he snarled with impatience.
She frowned and glanced away as if embarrassed to meet his fierce gaze. “Surely we cannot...travel together.”
“And why not?” He thrust his jaw out, taunting her to admit that anything intimate had occurred between them, daring her to imply that he had any feeling toward her or his mission.
“‘Twill be awkward,” she began hesitantly.
“Do ye think so?” he asked flippantly. Damn her! he thought. Damn her for looking vulnerable and innocent. He quickly reminded himself that she was a conniving opportunist.
As he stared at her, a hot flush crept up her cheeks, igniting a spark of anger in her eyes.
“‘Twould be awkward for any lady to be in the company of the likes of you,” she snapped. “But I’ve scarce encountered a man in Scotland that I would care to spend more than a minute with so I shall bear the burden of your company as I’ve borne everything else!”
She turned to leave and, loathe to let her get the last word, William called out, “Perhaps we can find ye a man in England then who’d suit your high standards! O’ course, there’s nothing to say that he’d settle for you!” He saw her shoulders tighten, but otherwise she gave no indication that she had heard his insult.
Turning, he stalked to the stables, the only place he thought he might get a moment’s peace. Inside the dimly lit building, he inhaled the familiar, comforting smells of horse, leather, and hay. He grabbed a handful of feed and offered it to his horse, who quickly devoured it.
“Greedy devil,” William said with a smile. He fetched more hay and doled it out to the huge animal.
“What was Robert thinking?” he fumed. His horse nickered in sympathy and nudged his arm for more feed.
There was no question in William’s mind that his cousin knew exactly who Meghan was to him. Though he’d confessed little enough, he had told Robert that he’d very nearly lost his head as well as his heart at the recent Mayday. At dinner a fortnight past, the two had drained more than a few skins of wine and their tongues had loosened accordingly.
William absently scratched his horse’s ears as he stared out the open door, seeing not the bright sunlight, but the soft candlelight that had filled the small keep last May. He’d been besotted that night, intoxicated, even. Why else would he have found such delight in her outrageous set downs?
William grabbed up another handful of hay and offered it to the horse, the only living thing he should have told of his feelings for Meghan Innes. Though the fecund smells of livestock filled the air, William suddenly found the scent of fresh flowers and burning candles perfuming his memory as his mind drifted back to the night he had first met Meghan. He’d found himself obsessed the moment her gaze met his–-her scornful gaze, he reminded himself. There he was with a willing lass on his arm––what was her name?—and yet one sight of the impetuous red head and he’d pursued her like a green lad with nothing on his mind but a set of aching balls!
The morning following their meeting, he’d recognized the infatuation for what it was, had he not? And yet he had waited in the bailey, felt his heart pound when he saw her.
“I should have turned and run,” William confided to his horse who lifted a thick lip in mocking derision. “Aye?” William said. “And what do ye know of it.”
They had spent days in that shaded glen, kissed in a way that was so new to him. Oh it held the burning passion that he was well acquainted with, but at the same time it was gentle and soothing. William was still amazed that all those words could be used to describe one kiss. Never before had he been interested in gentle kisses–always was he searching for something hotter and more satisfying. But this kiss, filled as it was with newly proclaimed love and barely restrained hunger, this kiss had satisfied his very soul. Even now he could taste it on his lips.
His horse nudged him in the ribs in search of more feed, and William pushed him away. “Insatiable beast,” he said, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve to rid his memory of Meghan Innes. He turned and flung himself onto a pile of clean hay to brood over Robert’s absurd plan to send him to London.
Despite his assertions to Meghan, it would be awkward traveling with her. How could he forget those foolish words of love he had spoken? He balled his hand into a fist and beat his forehead once, twice. Christ! He’d give his left arm for Meghan Innes to forget that she’d heard them. He took a deep breath and stared up at the musty thatch of the ceiling. Still...she had not mentioned the matter to anyone else, that much was clear. If she had, he’d have felt the brunt of more than one joke by now. His friends would die laughing to know that Black William had offered himself to a woman who was as shallow and mercenary as the Innes chit.
Not for the first time, William cursed the designation he had earned as a randy young man. He’d thought himself more of a man for it when he was but seventeen. Now it was a tiresome burden.
William scooped the hay into a more comfortable pillow and leaned back decisively. There was only one thing for it. He would treat Meghan Innes as if she meant no more to him than the willing lass—what was her name—he should have bedded at the Mayday festival
Sometime later he awoke to his name being called.
“Will?”
William closed his eyes and promised himself he would not kill his cousin. “Aye, Robert, I’m over here.”
The king of Scotland squinted while his eyes adjusted to the gentle gloom of the stables and then spotting his prey, advanced.
“Hiding, eh? I’d no blame ye. Look, I know ye’ve no liking for this task, but you’re the only one I can trust wi’ it.”
William made a low grumble in the back of his throat. “Oh, aye, it takes a fearsome warrior to escort one small woman to London.”
Robert sat on a low workbench and propped his elbows on his knees. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “It does no take any such person to take the Innes girl to Edward. But it does require a strong man with a crafty mind to convince Edward to release his Scots prisoners, lull him into the belief that Scotland is subservient, and then escape right before I attack his troops on the border.”
William sat up and brushed the hay from his hair. “What? Are ye mad? You’re recognized as the rightful heir to the Scots throne. Now with the Innes clan supporting ye and the Comyns soon to be indebted to ye, you’ll have no opposition. Why force a war with England?”
“It will no be a war. Just a few battles,” Robert replied.
William gave his cousin an eloquent look. “What is the difference?”
Robert smiled. “The difference is that I need only prove to Edward that we are, for once, united. A few battles in which all the clans come together to defeat the English will convince him that he’ll no be able to play us against each other any longer.” He shrugged. “It will have the added benefit of proving to our fellow Scots that we are better off fighting together rather than against one another. And, of course, it will show men in both countries that I’m no a man to be dismissed lightly.”
William flopped back into the hay and covered his eyes with his forearm. “How am I supposed to convince Edward that the Scots are his subservient subjects when I’m first cousin to the man who claims to be king of those very Scots?” He peeked under his arm to see his cousin’s face.
; Robert smiled. “As I said, this task requires a man with a devious mind—“
”Crafty,” William corrected. “Ye said crafty.”
“Aye, a crafty mind to devise his own plan.”
“In other words, ye have no idea.”
Robert shrugged.
William took a deep breath and let it out in exasperation. “And why must the Innes lass go with me?”
“To prove to Edward that I don’t seek to put the men in my own prison. Besides, I thought you’d appreciate the opportunity to settle up with her. Now that her clan is pledged to support me, her father will no doubt be honored to have ye as bridegroom to his daughter.”
“She’s bride to Torquil Comyn!” William protested.
Robert shook his head. “Nay, only betrothed. And there seems to be some question as to whether the marriage was even settled between her father and the Comyn.” Robert looked as though he were trying not to smile. “She is a bonny one, is she no? Why, I’d consider wedding her myself did I no have a wife already.”
William scrambled to his feet and busied himself with polishing his saddle. He wanted to avoid looking directly at his intuitive cousin.
“Ye assume, of course, that I’m even interested in the chit. She’s no so bonny once she uncovers her serpent’s tongue.”
“Ye’ve knowledge of her tongue, do ye?” William could hear the smile in Robert’s voice. “If the lass means naught to ye, then her presence will no affect ye in the least, will it?”
William dropped the polishing rag and turned to deliver a withering stare to his cousin, but his dagger gaze pinged harmlessly off Robert’s departing back.
Chapter 10
There simply had to be a way out of this insanity. Meghan paced the confines of her small chamber, knotting her hands in her skirts until they were as crumpled as if she had slept in them.
She simply could not travel alone to England with William Bruce! Or anywhere else, for that matter. Just being in the same hall with him made her jumpy. When she’d confronted him earlier today, she had all but forgotten her promise to herself that she treat him like a stranger. Why she practically gave herself away when she admitted that things would be awkward between them! Meghan stopped at the arrow slit of a window and peered at the busy courtyard below. As if he were alone in the large area, her gaze was drawn instantly to William as he made his way out of the stables, a scowl on his face, a careless swagger to his walk that had so attracted her two months ago. A careless swagger that still attracted her. His black hair was now unbound and its unruliness reminded her of how frantically she had run her fingers through its length. He paused to help a couple of men hoist a thick wooden beam up to the top of the outer walls. The action caused his tunic to strain against his shoulders—shoulders she had gripped for balance as he had kissed her. Though hard with muscle, the skin of those shoulders was smooth and warm, she remembered, and her tentative touch when she slipped her fingers beneath the neck of his tunic had made William’s breath grow unsteady. Her own breath now was rapid, as if she had run up a flight of stairs. Her palms were damp against the stone wall and parts of her body she usually didn’t think of were reminding her of what she and William had never done...
Meghan pushed away from the window in disgust. With a sigh, she collapsed back against the cold stone wall.
Aye, were she honest with herself, she would admit that she was apprehensive of traveling to London with Black William because she was afraid that she would make a fool of herself all over again. Liar, schemer, seducer of innocents—she would forget all those things and fall once again under his captivating spell.
She stood abruptly. No. There simply had to be a way out of this insanity.
“But Uncle, can you not see how much wiser it would be for you to travel to London and speak in father’s defense?”
Lennox shook his head and stared at his hands. “The king has spoken, Meggie. We canna go against his command.”
“But he simply wants a member of our clan to speak to Longshanks! Surely you are a better choice than me.”
Lennox glanced briefly at his niece then away. “Ye said ye were the Innes heir, did ye no?”
Meghan allowed a short harsh laugh to escape her lips. “And do ye think that a female heir means aught to the king of the English? It barely holds water here.”
“It seems to with King Robert.” Lennox replied, still not meeting her eyes. “Besides,” he continued, more firmly as if he had more conviction in this argument, “ye’re the one with the gift for words. Did ye no convince our clan’s old enemy to accept your offer of an alliance? You’ll do the same with Longshanks, I know. I, however,” he continued, finally raising his gaze to hers and smiling, “can scarcely bellow for more wine and see results. Besides, someone must remain here to remind the king that he owes us for our fealty. ‘Tis best to keep our backsides covered lest they freeze in the chill.”
Meghan fell silent at a discreet knock at the door. A serving maid entered and quickly built a fire and lit the torches in the room Lennox had been given.
With the girl’s entrance, Meghan realized two things at once. One, the sun had slipped its earthly confines without her notice, casting the room into a pearly gloom, and two, she had not come to the king’s castle with a maid.
She never traveled with a servant. Her father scorned such a luxury and insisted she be able to fend for herself. Of course, he treated her more like a son on the few occasions he had permitted her to accompany him anywhere and so the thought that she was not delicately chaperoned had not occurred to either of them. Now, however, if she could convince King Robert that she was simply much too feminine to travel alone in the company of men not of her clan, perhaps he would be forced to send her uncle instead.
She quickly outlined her ploy to Lennox. He frowned at the freshly lit fire as if willing it to return the room to darkness.
“You will have to approach the king to further the notion that it is too discreet a subject for me to broach,” she reasoned.
“And ye think that after the performance ye gave in his great hall, Robert the Bruce will now accept that ye are a delicate flower of a lass terrified of a few guards?”
Meghan chewed her lower lip. There was that.
She shook her head to clear it of doubt. “Please uncle,” she begged. “I can no spend so much as another day in the company of–-of...” she hesitated and then reminded herself that her uncle possessed all the understanding that her father did not. “In the company of Black William.” She swallowed the indignity of her next remark and said, “Surely you realize the humiliation his presence will cause me.” Lennox seemed to be wavering. “Please?” she urged.
Finally, he turned to face her. He studied her intently and then said, “Alright. I shall mention it to the king. I do no think ‘twill do any good, but I shall mention it.”
Meghan clapped her hands like a child and pressed a quick kiss to his brow. “Thank ye uncle!”
***
“This is Mavis,” Lennox said some time later when he returned. His gaze remained fixed on the stone floor. “King Robert has charged her with seeing to your needs on your journey.”
Meghan looked in dismay at the old woman who was bent with age and years of hard labor. “What?” she whispered.
“I delivered your request and the king said he understood completely. He has provided you with Mavis here to attend you on your journey.”
Meghan sank into a chair. Her hopes sank to the floor. She was stuck. Stuck with Black William and now stuck with a maid who looked like she would require more assistance than she could provide.
“When do we leave?” she asked morosely.
***
The large, dirt-packed courtyard was lit with the dove’s-wing grey of pre-dawn. In spite of the dim light, every person, every object, every sparse blade of grass stood out in clear relief, as if the anticipation of the sunrise sharpened each outline with eagerness. Meghan studied the effect as the sky brightened from pal
e grey to a watery yellow. She checked the bundles strapped to her saddle, tightened the scarf wound round her head and neck, frowned at old Mavis who appeared to be asleep on her laconic mule. Anything to keep her gaze from the door where Black William would leave the hall. She had quavered in her resolve yesterday, but today she would make sure she treated him with detached indifference.
Nonetheless, her pulse quickened as she heard the great wooden doors swing open and the sound of men’s voices filled the quiet of the morning.
“May God keep ye on your travels, Will,” she heard Robert say.
“And may He keep ye drunk and asleep in the safety of your hall, Rob.” William’s humorous tone belied the rudeness of his remark.
Robert laughed loudly. “I’m sure he will, cousin. By the way, I’ve entrusted Hamish here with a skin of my best wine to ease your weariness at night.”
William snorted. “If ye’ve entrusted it to Hamish, ‘twill no last till we reach the river.”
Lennox took the reins of Meghan’s mount. “Let me assist ye.”
Meghan quirked a brow at her uncle. She’d never had assistance mounting her horse before. She followed her uncle’s gaze to her maid and remembered that she was supposed to be a gently reared lady. With more awkwardness than grace, she allowed Lennox to help her into the saddle. She hoped William had not noticed her clumsy mount.
With scarce another word, the men climbed atop their own mounts and turned toward the open gates. Meghan was surprised that only three guards accompanied them: a short stubby fellow she assumed was Hamish by the smirk on his face as he patted the heavy wine skin, and two wiry young men who had to be brothers. They were nearly identical from their shaggy dirt-brown hair to the lazy way they sat their horses. Their boots were even worn across the toes in the same spot, as if they both dragged their feet.
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