The Guardian

by Margaret Mallory

  “Go now,” the Douglas said.

  The servants disappeared though a second door. As it closed behind them, Sìleas felt for the dirk strapped to her thigh—and cursed herself for not finding a hiding place closer to hand. She’d tried, but there was no good place to stick a dirk in this gown—and certainly not in her dainty slippers.

  The Douglas poured a cup of wine from an ornate silver pitcher on the side table and took a drink. She chided herself for letting her imagination get away with her. Nothing could be more normal than a man taking a drink.

  “I have some business to discuss with ye, lass,” he said, and handed her the cup. “Your letter to the queen said ye are heir to Knock Castle.”

  She decided to hold her tongue until she knew where this was leading.

  “I knew about ye being the heir, of course, but I’d heard ye wed a MacDonald and thought the matter settled.” Her surprise must have shown on her face, for he added, “ ’Tis my business to know such things.”

  She didn’t like this man knowing so much about her. Since he’d drunk the wine, it couldn’t be poisoned, so she took a gulp. It did nothing to cure her dry throat.

  “The queen will soon name me Protector of the Western Isles—which includes Skye, of course.” He leaned closer and said in a soft voice. “That means, lass, that I am a good man to know. And the better ye know me, the better off you’ll be.”

  Her heart was racing. Despite her inexperience, she had a fair notion of what he was suggesting.

  He pried the cup from her hand and set it on the table. “I’m sure you’ve had a hard time of it, with both the MacDonalds and the MacKinnons trying to get their hands on you and your castle,” he said. “Likely, the Macleods will have a try as well.”

  When he took a step closer, she took a step back.

  “I am a powerful man,” he said, resting a hand on her arm. “I can protect ye from the MacDonalds, the MacKinnons, and all the others.”

  She backed up until her heels hit the wall. He was so close to her now that she could taste the wine on his breath and smell the musky odor of his skin beneath the scent he wore.

  “You’re a verra lovely lass.” He ran a finger along her cheek. “And brave to come all this way, telling no one but that young lad who’s waiting for ye in the hall.”

  If his intent was to make her realize just how alone she was—and how far from the protection of her clansmen—he had succeeded.

  She swallowed back her fear and tried to keep her head. “I don’t suppose the queen would be pleased to see ye touching me.”

  “No, I don’t suppose she would,” he said, his teeth gleaming white. “That’s why I’ll make sure she doesn’t know about us. Nothing could be easier.”

  She ran her tongue over her dry lips. “ ’Tis time I was leaving.”

  “Come, lass, I deserve a reward for having to bed that Tudor cow.” He cupped her face and dragged his thumb across her bottom lip. “And don’t fret. If ye have a child, I promise I’ll claim it.”

  Her mouth dropped open at this blunt statement of his intentions.

  “Ye are a conniving bastard,” she hissed in his face. “Ye just want Knock Castle for yourself, same as the rest of them.”

  “I can assure ye, lass,” he said, taking hold of her shoulders and pressing her against the wall, “Knock Castle is not all I want from ye.”

  If she could have reached her dirk, she would have gutted him. As it was, she struggled against him, but he held her fast.

  “Ye are a beauty,” he said in a husky voice, as his mouth inched closer to hers. “And I find I’m partial to pretty virgins.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Ian’s every nerve and muscle was taut with tension as they rode into Stirling. He had expected to find Sìleas and Niall on the road, but the pair had moved fast, damn them. After days of hard travel and worry, he felt like a hide that had been stretched and beaten on a frame.

  “We’ll check all the taverns and inns,” Connor said. “They’ll be staying in one of them.”

  If they had made it to Stirling. Ian’s headed pounded every time he thought of the dangers. “I’m going to the castle to look for them,” he said.

  “If they haven’t gone there yet, we can still keep this quiet,” Connor said.

  Fear pulsed through him. “I don’t care if I’m a laughingstock all across Scotland. I must find her quickly, before she comes to harm.”

  If harm had not already found her.

  “They can’t have arrived in Stirling more than half a day ahead of us,”Alex said. “Sìleas cannot walk into the palace and receive an audience with the queen. More than likely, they’ll make her wait a day or two—if they let her see the queen at all.”

  Ian agreed, reluctantly, to look first in the town. After stabling their horses at the first tavern they found, they went inside—and finally had their first bit of luck.

  “Take the room upstairs on the end,” the tavern keeper said, as he tucked the coins Ian gave him into the leather bag at his belt.

  “Have ye seen a couple of lads, one almost as tall as me, and the other a wee thing with red hair?” Ian asked.

  “Mayhap.” The tavern keeper narrowed his eyes at Ian. “Why would ye be looking for them?”

  Ian’s heart beat faster. He wanted to grab the man and shake what he knew from him, but he was grateful for the tavern keeper’s unexpected protectiveness toward the wayward pair.

  “My brothers had an argument with our da and ran off,” Ian said. “I’ve come to bring them home.”

  “ ’Tis good you’ve come,” the man said, as he poured a cup of ale for another customer. “The big one looks like he could handle himself in a fight, but there are plenty of other dangers in Stirling, if ye know what I mean.”

  Ian did. Praise God he had found them.

  “Which room are they in?” Ian said, starting toward the stairs.

  “The younger lad might be up there, but the tall one left some time ago.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Funny thing, he’d found himself a pretty lass and said they was going to visit the queen.”

  People on the street moved out of Ian’s way as he strode toward the castle. Connor was beside him, matching him stride for stride, and the other two behind them.

  “Mind your temper,” Connor said, as they drew near the gatehouse. “If ye draw your blade, twenty guards will be on ye before ye can say her name.”

  They told the guards at the gatehouse they were looking for a clanswoman.

  “She was with a big lad of fifteen, and she’s so high,” Ian said, holding his hand to his chin, “and has flaming red hair.”

  “Couldn’t forget that lass, now could I?” one on the guards said. “Ach, she’s a fair one.”

  Ian took a deep breath to keep from punching him.

  “If that were my wife, ye can be sure I’d keep her home,” another said.

  Ian gritted his teeth while Connor and Alex talked the guards into letting them pass, then they hurried to the King’s House. As soon as they got past another set of guards at the door, he saw Niall.

  His brother’s eyes widened as Ian and the others crossed the hall to him, but he stood his ground.

  “Where is she?” Ian grabbed Niall by the front of his shirt. “Tell me now.”

  “A servant took her to the queen’s private parlor,” Niall said, and Ian saw the worry in his eyes. “He said men were not permitted to go there.”

  Ian knew from personal experience that was a lie. The queen’s ladies sneaked men in all the time.

  “I didn’t like it, but it’s only women in there, so Sìleas should be safe enough,” Niall said, but there was a question in his voice. “But she’s been gone a long while.”

  Ian turned to the others. “Can ye hold the guards for a wee bit?”

  “Wait, I see an easier way in.” Alex shifted his gaze across the room. “I believe that is the English lass who used to have an eye for ye.”

  Ian followed Alex’s gaze to a w
oman with a graceful figure and a delicate, perfectly proportioned face framed by very fair tendrils.

  “Are ye speaking of Lady Philippa?” Niall asked in a wistful voice.

  She was, indeed, Philippa, the woman Ian had once planned to marry. It seemed a lifetime ago.

  “I’d wager Philippa can get ye into the queen’s parlor in a wink, if she’s a mind to it,” Alex said, pushing Ian forward. “So make an effort to be charming.”

  Philippa turned her head and blinked several times when she saw Ian walking toward her. After whispering something to the man standing next to her, she swept across the room to meet him with a smile lighting her face.

  “You are as handsome as ever, Ian MacDonald,” she said, holding her gloved hand out to him. “How many other ladies’ hearts have you broken since last we met?”

  “I must speak with ye alone,” Ian said, and took her by the elbow.

  She glanced sideways at him and smiled as he led her into a darkened alcove. “Oh my, the ladies will be all atwitter—and green with envy.”

  Ian bit back his impatience.

  “I never apologized for not coming back for ye.” He owed her that—and it seemed politic to apologize before asking a favor. “I did mean to return and marry ye, but… it wasn’t possible.”

  “Heavens, Ian, I couldn’t have married you,” she said, and laughed that tinkling laugh that used to enchant him. “I was one of King James’s mistresses at the time.”

  Ian was stunned. He had thought her an innocent—and in love with him.

  Philippa gave him a bittersweet smile. “I was doing as my family bid me. They sent me to court for that very purpose.”

  “I’m sorry your family used ye so poorly. It was wrong of them.”

  “Ah, Ian,” she said with a sigh. “You are gallant. I always liked that in you.”

  “Since ye are here at court again, I assume the queen never discovered what ye were to the king,” Ian said, hoping she was on good terms with the queen so she could help him. “I hear she is a vindictive woman, so ye are taking a chance being here.”

  “This time, it is my husband who sent me.” She leaned forward to whisper next to his ear. “He says Archibald Douglas, the Earl of Angus, will soon have the power of the crown. That’s why he wants me to lure the Douglas into my bed.”

  Ian stiffened. “Your husband asked ye to do that?”

  “As if bedding the man would do us any good. Archibald Douglas is not a man to make decisions with his cock, or, alas”—she patted Ian’s chest—“with his heart.”

  “Ach, ’tis a shame ye ended up with such a miserable husband.”

  She shrugged one delicate shoulder. “We are of a like mind on most things.”

  Ian didn’t know what to say to that.

  “Besides, I can take care of myself with the Douglas,” she said. “Unlike the poor virgin he has in his clutches at the moment. The girl is such an innocent, she hasn’t a chance against the likes of him.”

  A prickle ran up Ian’s spine. “Tell me about this lass.”

  “Apparently, she is heir to a castle the Douglas wants. This morning, I heard him convincing the queen to help the girl end her marriage—and wed her to one of his Douglas cousins.” She heaved a sigh. “I think I met her, and I fear that once the Douglas sees what a beauty she is, the cousin will not have her before he does.”

  Ian gripped her arm. “Philippa, I must get to her.”

  Philippa’s eyes went wide, and her hand went to her chest. “Do not tell me… No, Ian, you cannot be the husband she is trying to get rid of, are you?”

  “I am,” he ground out. “I’ve come to take her home. Can ye get me inside the queen’s apartments?”

  She lowered her head. “I don’t frighten easily, but the truth is that I am a bit afraid of Archibald Douglas.”

  “I promise ye,” Ian said, leaning closer, “I would never tell who let me in.”

  “I suppose you would not, even under torture,” she said, a faint smile returning to her lips. She held out her hand to him, “Come, we’d best hurry.”

  Philippa took him up the servants’ staircase, which was hidden behind a screen. When she reached the top step, she turned to face him.

  “I hope you won’t blame her if…” She paused and bit her lip. “… if you find her too late.”

  Sweat broke out on his forehead. “Just tell me where to go from here.”

  “The queen has given the Douglas a set of rooms for his private use, just there.” Philippa pointed to a door down the narrow back hallway.

  “Be careful, Ian,” she said and kissed him on the cheek. “There will be guards inside the door—and I hear that the Douglas is very good with a sword.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Sìleas wished to God she had never left Skye.

  “If it is all the same to you, Laird Douglas…” She attempted to lean farther away from him, but she had nowhere to go. “I’ll withdraw my request for the queen’s assistance and be on my way.”

  “Nonsense.” The Douglas took a loose curl at the side of her face between his fingers, pulled it straight, and smiled as he let it loose and watched it spring back. “Tell me, lass, are ye as wild as your hair?”

  She didn’t like the way his eyes darkened when he said it.

  “I’m a very proper lady.” If ever there was a time to stretch the truth, it was now.

  “Judging from your rash decision to travel across half of Scotland with only a boy as your escort, I’m guessing ye are a wild one.”

  Sìleas sucked in her breath to keep her chest from touching his as he leaned another inch closer. Sweat prickled down her back as she considered how unlikely she was to reach the dirk strapped to her thigh before he stopped her. In any case, lifting her gown seemed a foolish choice at present.

  “You’ll find there are a great many benefits to being my mistress,” the Douglas said, easing his knee between her legs.

  “I’m sure there are lasses who would appreciate the ‘benefits,’ but ye have nothing I want.”

  She didn’t want to touch him, but when it appeared that he would not move away on his own, she pushed against his chest. He didn’t seem to notice.

  “You’ll change your mind soon enough,” he said, so close his breath was hot on her face. “I know how to please a woman.”

  Her heart pounded frantically in her chest as Douglas leaned toward her. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed the same prayer she prayed when she was little.

  Please God, send Ian.

  “ ’Tis been a long time since I’ve had a virgin,” he said in low, rough voice. “I’m looking forward to teaching ye all I know.”

  She flinched as the prickle of the Douglas’s mustache grazed her upper lip.

  “That is my wife you’ve got your hands on, Douglas.”

  By some miracle, Ian’s voice filled the room. Hope took hold of her. Very slowly, she opened her eyes, afraid she had imagined it.

  Her breath caught when she looked over Douglas’s shoulder and saw the answer to her prayer filling the doorway. With his claymore drawn and murder in his eyes, Ian looked magnificent—and more dangerous than she had ever seen him.

  “If ye will step away from her now,” Ian said, “I’ll assume ye did not know she is my wife—and let ye live.”

  Archibald Douglas arched his eyebrows at her. For a moment, Sìleas wondered if Ian knew he was threatening the Earl of Angus, one of the most powerful men in Scotland—and the queen’s “special” friend besides. But of course he knew.

  The Douglas spun around, taking her with him. He held her against him with one arm and the hilt of his sword in the other.

  “Is this the husband ye want to be rid of?” Douglas said, an amused smile twitching at his lips. “The one ye say has left ye a virgin?”

  “Make no mistake, that lass is my wife.” Ian’s voice was seething with such menace that the hairs on the back of Sìleas’s neck stood up. “And she will remain so as long as there is breath in my
body.”

  As long as there was breath in his body. Despite her precarious position, Ian’s words sent a thrill through her.

  “So you are Ian MacDonald of the Sleat MacDonalds,” the Douglas said, narrowing his eyes. “Tell me, are ye as good a fighter as they say?”

  “Better,” Ian said. “Now, I asked ye verra nicely to step away from my wife. I’ll no be so polite the next time.”

  It startled her when Archibald Douglas threw his head back and laughed.

  “I appreciate a man who is fearless to the point of foolishness,” the Douglas said. “I’ll need men like you fighting with me when I come to the Isles to put down this latest rebellion.”

  “Ye won’t live to fight another day if ye don’t release my wife,” Ian said. “My patience is gone.”

  “I’ll call on ye when the time comes.” The Douglas shoved her forward. “Take your bride, Ian MacDonald of Skye.”

  Ian took her wrist in a firm grasp and pulled her behind him.

  “But for God’s sake,” the Douglas said, “don’t leave her a virgin another night.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Ian dragged Sìleas across the hall in front of the sniggering courtiers. He was practically wrenching her arm out of its socket, but she didn’t care. She wanted to weep with relief that he was here, that he’d come for her, even if it was pride that made him do it.

  Without breaking his pace, Ian signaled to someone. Sìleas barely had time to glance over her shoulder, but it was easy to spot the four tall men in Highland dress surrounded by a bevy of court ladies.

  A surge of guilt went through her as she realized that Connor, Duncan, and Alex had come all the way to Stirling because of her, when they were needed at home. Although the three of them clearly saw her and Ian, they made no move to follow. Niall alone ran after them.

  “Praise God, ye are all right—” Niall stopped in his tracks when Ian spun around.

  Ian was in a fury as she’d never seen him.

  “It was a close thing.” Ian spoke between clenched teeth, and the vein in his neck was pulsing. “The Douglas had his hands on her.”