by Amanda Scott
“I hear that the Mackintosh does expect visitors,” he said. “Do you not fear that they may walk in and find you at your task?”
“Nay, for we will hear when they shout for the boats. The windows are unshuttered, sir, and such shouts echo long at this hour when the loch is calm.”
“I think your grandfather already sent boats across to await them.”
“Faith, why did no one tell me?”
Hastily, she began plaiting her hair again, aware that he watched closely as she did, because his gaze stirred the tingling sensation he so often stirred in her. It still surprised her how quickly and easily her body responded to his presence.
Hearing the first arrivals coming up from the yard, she twisted the two plaits together at her nape. She was pinning her veil into place when Fin stopped her.
“You’ve pinned it askew, lass,” he said, reaching to unpin and tug her veil into its proper place. The air around them seemed suddenly to crackle, making it hard for her to breathe, and the great hall seemed smaller. She was conscious only of him.
“Thank you,” she murmured to the air between them when he had finished.
But he did not reply, nor take his hand away. And the air, rather than crackling, filled with new tension. Looking at him, she saw that he stared toward the entrance, his face ashen. Following his gaze, she saw her father and James first, then Ivor. Other men were on the stairs behind them, but Ivor had stopped, blocking their way. The expression on his face reflected the one on Fin’s.
“God-a-mercy, you know Ivor!” she exclaimed. “Why ever did you not say so?”
Chapter 7
Having barely heeded Catriona’s words as he stared in consternation at Hawk, Fin glanced at her, realized that he still had his fingertips on her veil, and drew his hand back as he said, “That man in the doorway is your brother Ivor?”
“Aye, of course it is. Don’t pretend that you do not know each other, for it is plain to me that you do.”
“My lady, I must leave you for a time,” Fin said, collecting his wits when he saw Rothesay push past Hawk. “My own master is there, by your brother—”
“But why did you not tell me that you know Ivor?”
“I will explain everything as soon as I can, but prithee, do not make a song about this. Your brother will not thank you for it any more than I will. You may even put one or both of us in danger.”
“Give me your word that you will explain this to me, or by heaven, I will tell my father about it just as soon as he comes near me.”
“I will explain as much to you later as I can. But curtsy now, lass, and right swiftly, for the Duke of Rothesay approaches.”
“Davy Stewart? The Governor of the Realm and heir to Scotland’s throne? He is the man you serve?”
“Aye,” Fin said, making his bow to Rothesay, who bore him away at once.
The younger man had the fair, blue-eyed Nordic good looks of nearly every Stewart, the prime exception being his uncle Albany, who was as dark, some said, as the devil’s own. Men had often suggested that since Albany looked so unlike his kinsmen, mayhap he was no Stewart at all but a changeling, or worse.
No one said such things of Rothesay, although he was certainly the subject of much gossip. He looked much as his grandfather, Robert II, had in his prime, and Rothesay seemed determined to outdo his grandfather in bed. The late King had sired more than twenty illegitimate offspring and nearly as many legitimate ones.
So far, though, Rothesay had sired no legitimate children.
“A beauteous lass, that one,” he said to Fin in Scot when Catriona excused herself and walked off. “Prithee, tell me she has a fondness for flirtation and that you’ve cultivated her acquaintance for me. I’ve had a devilish few days till now.”
“Have you, my lord?” Fin replied. “I thought today was a fine day.”
“Have you seen those damned Cairngorms?” Rothesay demanded without bothering to lower his voice. “I tell you it was cruel to put horses to them. But it was gey worse to make me walk here from the turning-off to Lochindorb.”
“They must have offered you a Highland pony to ride,” Fin said.
“Aye, sure, a garron they called it and assured me it was gey sure-footed. But my feet nearly dragged on the ground, Fin. I preferred to walk.”
“How did you meet the Laird of Rothiemurchus?” Fin asked.
“Shaw and his men were with my cousin Alex, Lord of the North, when I met them in Perth. They had traveled north together from the Borders. My lads and I joined their party, so that I could enter the Highlands without making a noise.”
“Where is Alex now?” Fin asked.
“He rode on to Lochindorb, taking our horses with him, rot the man. He said we’d do better here without them. But he should arrive tomorrow.”
“That explains why rumors of an army coming here did not disturb the Mackintosh,” Fin said. “He must have known that you had joined Alex. See you, he’d made himself clear about you and the others’ bringing only a few men to this meeting. So I feared that he might be wroth if you were bringing an army.”
“Shaw said the same thing. In troth, he sent half of his own men or more home to their families, saying he would not need them for a time. Alex is doing the same and will bring few with him. But if my uncle Albany should get wind of this meeting, we’ll need every man they’ve sent home, and right quickly.”
“Aye, perhaps, but the custom here is much as it is in the Borders. If need be, Highlanders light signal fires or send running gillies to summon the clans. And the Mackintosh men have been away from their families for months, have they not?”
“Aye, sure, but so what?” Rothesay looked toward Catriona, talking with her mother and grandmother a short way away. Her good-sister, the lady Morag, spoke to her husband, James, beyond them with more liveliness than Fin had yet seen in her.
He said quietly, “The lass who attracts you is the lady Catriona Mackintosh, my lord. She is the Mackintosh’s granddaughter and Shaw’s daughter.”
Rothesay’s blue eyes gleamed as he said, “Is she now, in troth?”
“Aye, sir, and a maiden. The two ladies with her are her grandmother, Lady Annis of Mackintosh, and the lady Catriona’s mother, Lady Ealga.”
“I don’t care about the others, Fin. But since you will present the lass to me, I expect you had better present all three.”
Fin had begun to feel the uneasiness that he frequently felt in the younger man’s presence. Moreover, he realized as he scanned the other men in the hall, although Rothesay had brought two noble sycophants with him, he had brought no one who had the knack, if anyone did, for keeping him out of trouble.
“I don’t see your usual keepers,” he said with a smile.
“You do not, nor will you,” Rothesay said curtly. “Whilst my good-father lived, I had to put up with them. He’s dead now, so I no longer do.”
Fin had respected both of the so-called keepers and Rothesay’s good-father, Archie “the Grim,” third Earl of Douglas. He had agreed with Archie that, having married Archie’s daughter, Rothesay ought to honor his vows to her. And, lacking the keepers’ ability to curb his impulses, he regretted their absence now, because Rothesay had made it clear that he meant to have things his way at Rothiemurchus.
With a mental, if not audible, sigh, Fin said, “I will present all of the ladies to you, my lord. But mayhap I should first take you to meet the Mackintosh.”
“Where the devil is the man? I expected him to be at the landing.”
“Would you meet your guests at the landing, sir?”
“Nay, I would not! But I—” He broke off, grinning. “You mean to say that the Mackintosh is as arrogant as I am, don’t you? Damn your impudence, Fin.”
“Aye, sir. Shall I take you to him, or do you want me to tell him that you have summoned him here to greet you.”
“Nay, nay, you made your point. I don’t want to come to cuffs with the old man before we begin this meeting. I want him on my side, so tak
e me to him without delay, if only so that you can present that beauty to me the sooner.”
“Aye, sir,” Fin said, and led the way to the inner chamber. He glanced back as Tadhg ran to open the door for them and saw Catriona still chatting with members of her family. She stood by her dark-haired father and near the tawnier-headed Hawk—Sir Ivor, as he must call him now, at least when they were with others.
He wondered if Hawk would tell her about their meeting at Perth before he had a chance to do so. And, if Hawk did tell her, would she, with her quick wits, put that information together with what Fin had told her about his “friend’s” dilemma and thereby deduce more than he wanted to discuss with her yet?
Reassuring himself that if Hawk had not spoken of the incident in four years he was unlikely to do so immediately, Fin stood aside and let Rothesay precede him into the chamber to meet the Mackintosh.
Catriona, although engaged in an agreeable family reunion, watched Fin follow Rothesay into the inner chamber. When she turned back to her family, her gaze collided with Ivor’s far more intense one.
She opened her mouth only to close it again at a slight shake of his head. Returning her attention to the others, she engaged in the general exchange of news.
The Mackintosh, his royal guest, and Fin emerged from the chamber shortly afterward. Those near the fire who were to sit at the high table began to make their way toward the dais, and Ivor joined Catriona.
Offering her his arm, he bent his head toward hers and said, “I see that you have found yourself a new laddie to charm, my Catkin. But you should not let him play so impudently with your veil where others can see. ’Tis most unseemly.”
“Don’t play the dafty, sir. I saw from the way that you looked at him, and he at you, that you know each other. Prithee, tell me all about him.”
“Nay, lass, the boot is on the other foot. I want you to tell me about him.”
She stared at him, saying, “Ivor, if you do not stop behaving as if I had no wits at all, I vow that I shall—”
“Speak softly, my wildcat. Recall that the laird, our father, is behind us. After our long day, he is of no mind to stand for any fratching. Nor am I, I should add. I may be a right merry soul when I’m pleased, but—”
“But you are a devil when you’re angry, just as Father is,” she interjected. “I ken that fine, sir. Even so—”
“Enough, Cat. We will continue this discussion later and not whilst our family and guests surround us. I must speak first with Lion—”
“Lion! What manner of name is that?”
“Hush. ’Tis the only name I know for him, and that is all I’ll say. We’ll explain more later. That is, I think we will. First, I must learn why he is here.”
Keeping her voice low, she said, “When I met him, he said he had come to talk to the Mackintosh. And tonight he told me he serves Rothesay. So I’d wager that the duke’s coming here is a result of that talk your Lion had with Granddad.”
“No more now,” Ivor muttered hastily as James approached them.
“Art telling secrets, my bairns?” the older of Catriona’s two brothers said. “Only think what our grandame will say if she catches you. Manners, manners! Who the devil is that fellow who carried Rothesay off so swiftly, Cat? Morag tells me that he has been taking liberties with you. Have you an interest there, lassie?”
“I was just asking her about that,” Ivor said, giving her a warning look.
“And, as I was telling you,” Catriona said sweetly, “I know that men call him ‘Fin of the Battles.’ But Granddad made him admit that he is Sir Finlagh, and our grandame did learn that he is a MacGill. He told us that he lived in Lochaber as a child and then in eastern Fife. Also, he came to Rothiemurchus from the Borders.”
“I have heard of ‘Fin of the Battles,’ ” James said with increased respect. “They say he is one of the finest swordsmen in Scotland and a fine archer as well. I did not know that he was Rothesay’s man, though. He lived for a time in eastern Fife, you say?” James added, shifting his gaze from Catriona to Ivor.
Ivor met that shrewd look unblinkingly. But although Catriona’s ever-ready curiosity stirred, she devoutly hoped James would not quiz her more about Fin and therefore did not urge him to tell her why Fin’s time in Fife seemed so important.
Something unusual was going on, and although she believed that Fin could defend himself, she did not want to make things more difficult for him by trying to explain him to her brothers. If she tried, she would inevitably land herself or Fin, or both of them and perhaps Ivor, too, in the suds.
When the two groups met on the dais, the Mackintosh presented his ladies and Morag to Rothesay, who nodded with a smile and a pleasant word to each of the older women. Then, greeting Catriona, he grinned, and she saw why others called him charming. He had an attractive air about him, but he was not as tall as Fin or as broad across the shoulders. His eyes twinkled but were an ordinary blue.
“I can see that my visit will be most enjoyable,” he said, still smiling as he aided her to rise from her curtsy. Without releasing her hand or shifting his warm gaze from hers, he added, “I thank you all for your hospitality.”
Feeling her grandmother’s prodding fingers at her waist, Catriona gently withdrew her hand and turned obediently to take her place at the high table.
As she stood beside Morag, she heard the Mackintosh invite Rothesay to take the central chair, reserving the seat at the prince’s right for himself. Next, he directed Shaw to the seat at Rothesay’s left, adding glibly that the ladies would not mind sitting one seat farther down than usual to make room.
“Sithee, there be only the four of ye,” he said to his lady wife, “whilst we have more than a few extra men. Moreover, we men want to talk.” Then, as if clinching the matter, he added, “Also, it be Shaw’s right as much as me own to sit alongside of his royal guest. Rothiemurchus does belong to Shaw, after all.”
Rothesay bowed to Lady Annis and said with his twinkling smile, “I will say, your ladyship, that under any other circumstance I would strongly object to being deprived of your charming presence beside me. You and I must talk later.”
With a wry smile of her own, she said, “I look forward to that, my lord.”
As Catriona moved to allow for the change, she wondered if her father’s return would put an end to her walks with Fin. She enjoyed them, and the sudden awareness that Shaw might henceforth forbid them made her realize just how much she did.
When the gillies began presenting platters of food, Ealga leaned closer to Lady Annis. Nevertheless, Catriona heard her clearly when she said, “Do you think that young man always speaks to ladies in so familiar a manner?”
“I do,” Lady Annis said, looking past her at Morag and Catriona. “I expect that you two heard that, did you not?”
“Aye, madam,” Catriona said.
“I’ve noted that ye have quick ears, lass,” her grandmother said. “I trust ye’ll have the sense not to grow as friendly with Rothesay as ye have with Sir Finlagh.”
“She must not be rude to Rothesay, Mam,” Ealga said. “He is our guest.”
“He is one who will assume encouragement whenever he likes,” Lady Annis said, looking sternly at Catriona. “If ye’re wise, ye’ll not give him any. Nor will ye, Morag. Dinna be thinking that your being James’s wife will dissuade that lad.”
“Faith, Mam,” Ealga said. “You make it sound as if Rothesay would behave improperly to them. Surely, he would not do so in our own castle!”
“Piffle,” Lady Annis retorted. “That young rascal dared to flirt with me, did he not? They say he’ll flirt—aye, and much more than flirt if he’s of a mind—with anyone who wears a skirt. Ye’ll heed my warning, Catriona. Ye, too, Morag.”
Catriona was glad that her father was talking to her grandfather just then, but in chorus with Morag she said obediently, “I will take care, madam.”
Supper was overlong, although she knew that that was only because they had more men to feed than they�
�d had for months.
With Rothesay’s men and her father’s in the lower hall, and her brothers and Rothesay’s nobles at the high table, the din of conversation made it hard for the four women to hear each other. Her grandfather, in particular, had a booming voice.
Hearing it raised then, Catriona remembered with a smile that Fin had thought that the Mackintosh must be decrepit. She wondered what had given him that notion.
Fin had hoped to find opportunity to talk with Ivor while they ate, but James had invited him to sit between them instead, with Ivor at Fin’s right.
“Sithee,” James said, “our grandfather will want to talk with Rothesay and also to ask my father about all we’ve been doing in the south. So, this is a good time for us to learn about you. My sister said that you hail from Lochaber. What part?”
From Fin’s right, Ivor said, “Sakes, James, don’t quiz him whilst he’s trying to eat. You’ll soon have Granddad complaining that he can’t hear in this din, and as you’re sitting next to him…” He grinned.
“Aye, that’s true,” James said to Fin. “Granddad likes to bellow now and again, and one takes care not to be the nearest target. We can talk swordsmanship. I’ve heard men talk of your prowess in both field and tiltyard, Sir Finlagh. Were you not one of the twelve knights selected with Rothesay for the Queen’s tourney?”
That gambit was one that Fin was accustomed to deflecting by taking the first opportunity to shift discussion to other men’s skills. Since the other two had fought in the eastern part of the Borders with the Earl of Douglas, while Fin had spent his time with Rothesay near Edinburgh or Stirling, they had much to discuss.
At one point, James said, “I can see why we never met in the Borders. Rothesay takes good care to keep out of the Douglas’s way, does he not?”
Fin was adept at avoiding that topic as well. Archie the Grim’s son, the fourth Earl of Douglas, being Rothesay’s good-brother and fond of his own sister, lacked even their late father’s scant tolerance for Rothesay’s profligate ways.