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Authors: Bertrice Small

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“England,” Adair said softly. “Henry Tudor would seek an advantage.”

“Aye, England. Ramsay fled there, and is attempting to encourage their king to invade Scotland,” Hercules told them.

“To what purpose?” Adair wanted to know. “Scotland’s legal and lawful heir sits on its throne. But tell us what happened when the lords came to Edinburgh.”

“Some came and some did not, as I have previously said,” the big man continued. “A list of those to be ar-raigned for treason was put forth, but of all those great names only one appeared. It was the old king’s uncle, the Earl of Buchan. Hearty James, as he is called, is a fat fellow. He knelt before the king, bent, with his head touching the king’s boots, and our Jamie lifted him up and forgave him. And while neither Huntley nor Crawford nor the other great names were in evidence, there were a goodly number of other lords, knights, and gentlemen come for the king’s judgment. And he was fair, fining them, scolding them. He told them his greatest desire is to make Scotland united, strong, and prosperous. That he had no room in his heart for revenge.”

“That was exceedingly gracious,” Adair noted.

“It smacks of his sire,” the laird said.

“Nay, he is nothing like old James,” Hercules assured them. “This is a strong king, but he has begun his reign by tempering his victory with mercy. He is spoken of well for it. But of course, when it came time for the king to reward his own faithful, all of his council and friends were telling him what it was they wanted. Angus, however, said nothing. He was taciturn. I suppose he ex
pected the king to reward him without his saying. But then he grew angry at the others, and berated them for their greed and disloyalty. Unfortunately he included the king in his tirade, and when he had finished he slammed out of the chamber. The king could not run after him, although I know it must have hurt him, for Angus has been, along with Bishop Blacader, his closest supporter.

So the king gave away those offices and honors he had reserved for Angus to the others. My poor cousin Patrick is now lord high admiral of Scotland, and he hates the sea.” Hercules laughed heartily. “Thank God we have Sir Andrew Woods to man our small fleet.

Though why Scotland has any kind of fleet is a mystery to me.” Hercules Hepburn drained his cup, and Adair quickly refilled it. He gave her a wink, which caused Conal to scowl, and almost caused her to break into a fit of giggles.

“It is so good of you to come to tell us the news, Hercules,” she told him.

“I’m glad to pass on to you what I know, but I am also the bearer of an invitation. As Scotland is officially in mourning for the king’s sire, there will be no Christmas court at Stirling, but the Hepburn, in his capacity as the new Earl of Bothwell, will be hosting the king, and invites you to Hailes for the New Year. The celebration will be muted, of course, just old friends,” Hercules told them.

“I do not know,” Conal said, “if we will be able to accept the earl’s invitation.”

“The king especially asked that his lovely English cousin be invited,” Hercules said quietly. “Hailes is not large, but there will be few ladies present.”

“My lord,” Adair said carefully, putting a small hand upon her husband’s sleeve, “it is an honor that the earl does us. Please, may we not go? I should so enjoy it.”

Hercules Hepburn hid the smile that threatened to break forth on his face. The lady of Cleit was extremely clever, and her husband was besotted by her. But he had
also heard it said that the Englishwoman had been raised in a royal court. She therefore knew the ways of the mighty, and despite her stubborn mate would prevail in her desire to go to Hailes at New Year’s. She would not lose an opportunity for her husband and Clan Bruce to gain favor with the new king, or with the Earl of Bothwell.

“What if you are with child?” he demanded to know.

“I am not with child,” Adair replied calmly.

“But it is only late summer. You could be with child by late December,” the laird persisted. “You have lost one bairn, madam. Will you lose another?”

“If I am with child then,” Adair told him, “we can reconsider our decision to go to Hailes, but ’tis only a day’s journey away, Conal. I would not offend either the king or the earl by refusing them now. But, of course, you must decide, for you are the laird of Cleit, and I just your wife. Still, if you would make me happy you would send Hercules back to his cousin to say we will be there,” she finished. And she smiled up into his face.

Amused, Hercules Hepburn watched the play of
emotions across the laird’s face. He wanted to be master in his own house, but he also wanted to make his wife happy. And she was certainly giving him every opportunity to preserve his dignity. She had not taken the initiative, as some women might have, and said he was being silly and that of course they would accept the earl’s invitation. She had not wept, or sulked, stamped her feet at him, or accused him of wanting to make her unhappy. Instead she was skillfully leading him to the conclusion that she desired. A most formidable woman, the lady of Cleit, Hercules Hepburn decided silently to himself.

“Tell Patrick Hepburn that we will be pleased to accept his invitation for the New Year’s celebration, provided the weather will cooperate,” Conal Bruce finally said.

“He will be pleased, my lord, and so will the king,”
came the reply.

This visit Hercules Hepburn remained the night. He was an amusing man who enjoyed telling stories about his clan. When he departed in the morning Adair was sorry to see him go, for they rarely received visitors at Cleit.

The summer came to an end, and one day in October Adair rode out with Conal, Murdoc, and a few of their clansmen to help bring the shaggy short-horned cattle they owned closer to the keep. They had almost reached the herd when they spied another party of horsemen coming from the other direction. The laird swore beneath his breath. The other riders showed no badges of service, which meant they were probably raiders. The laird called a halt to his party.

“Go back to the keep,” he said to Adair.

“If I break away from our party someone from theirs will come after me,” she replied. “I’ll not be sold again, Conal Bruce!”

“We’re going to get into a fight,” he said. “I can’t keep my mind on defending myself and my cattle if I am going to worry about you, damn it!”

“I can fight,” Adair said.

“Jesu, woman, do what you are told. Murdoc, take her back and see the gates to Cleit are barred.”

Murdoc reached out and, taking the bridle of Adair’s horse, galloped off even as his brother urged his men forward again to meet the raiders. When they had gained the safety of the keep and its gates had been slammed shut behind them, Adair slid from her horse and dashed for the keep’s battlement, where she might view what was happening. Murdoc was close on her heels. Together they viewed Conal Bruce and his men as they met head-on with the intruders. They both realized at the same time that there was no battle being fought.

Instead both parties turned together and rode toward the keep.

As they drew near Adair thought she recognized the rider by her husband’s side. She carefully picked her way from the battlement, with Murdoc coming behind her. They climbed down the ladder from the heights into the attic hall below, and then down the stairs, hurrying into the hall from one direction as the laird entered from the other.

Adair immediately recognized the man in her husband’s company. “Robert!” she said. “Robert Lynbridge!” She came forward, her hands outstretched in greeting, and embraced him warmly. “What brings you to Cleit?”

“You know him?” the laird demanded.

“He is Andrew’s older brother,” Adair said. “Andrew Lynbridge, my late husband who died at Bosworth.

How is your Allis, and how are the bairns?” She signaled for refreshment for their guest and led him to the hearth to warm himself, sitting down next to Robert on the settle. “I did not ever expect to see you again, Robert,” she told him.

“I have been looking for you, Adair. For many months now,” Robert said. “We did not know Stanton had been raided until late the following summer, when the king’s messenger came to us. He had gone to Stanton, but he found it quite deserted. We rode back with him, and after some time we discovered an elderly couple hiding in one of the cottages. They were terrified we were raiders too, and had come to kill them. When we finally convinced them we were not, they told us a man named William Douglas had raided Stanton, and carried its lady and many others off. Most of the men, they said, had been slain. They spent days with those other few who had not been taken burying the dead. In the winter the others had died, and they were all that was left of the Stanton folk.

“We have been looking for you ever since, Adair. It
took us some time to find this Douglas fellow. At first he claimed to know nothing of Stanton, but in time he finally admitted that it was indeed he who had raided it.

He remembered you quite well, for he said you were a difficult captive, and he was fortunate to sell you to the laird of Cleit, who had purchased your Elsbeth. Elsbeth, he told me, was as troublesome as you were, for she refused to leave your side unless this laird bought you too, and so he did. Then I had to find out where Cleit was located, and damn me if you are not even more isolated here than at Stanton.” Robert drank down his wine eagerly now.

“Why have you come, Robert?” Adair asked him
quietly.

“Why, to rescue you,” he said as if he thought her simple. “I shall pay your master twice what he obtained for you. And I will pay for Elsbeth’s release as well.”

“Surely you did not spend years seeking me out just to
free
me,” Adair said. “Surely you have come with another purpose, Robert. Yet if the truth be known, I do not choose to return to England. My home now is here at Cleit.”

“But Adair,” Robert Lynbridge said, “the king has restored your lands to you. I read the message that was sent. It came from the king’s mother, Lady Margaret Beaufort, who persuaded her son to have mercy upon you. He will not return your title, and he wants to choose a husband for you to defend Stanton, but your lands are yours again.”

Her head spun with his words.
Stanton!
Stanton was hers again! And then she looked up into the eyes of Conal Bruce. The pain she saw in them was like a physical assault upon her person. He loved her. And she loved him. She would not desert him, now or ever. Even for Stanton. “I cannot go back, Robert,”
she told him.

“But why?” he asked her. “I know that Stanton means more to you than life itself, Adair. And the king
is certain to choose you a wealthy husband so the hall may be rebuilt once again. Stanton can regain its small glory. Lord John would want it.”

“Rob, I have a husband. A Scots husband who is laird of Cleit. I cannot go back. I do not want to go back. And my father would want my happiness, which is here.”

He misunderstood her. “A handfast union is no real marriage, Adair,” Robert Lynbridge explained. “Of course you can go back.”

“Nay, Rob, I cannot. And I truly do not want to go back. I was married in a most legal union by a priest of our most Holy Mother Church, in the presence of the Earl of Bothwell and the new king himself. Elsbeth was with me, and my lord’s two brothers, the laird of Duffdour, and Murdoc Bruce. I am happy here. I am content with my husband and the life that we have together.”

“But what is to happen to Stanton?” Robert Lynbridge wanted to know.

“King Henry took it, and it is his to dispose of as he chooses. There is little left of it, save for some empty cottages. What it once was exists no longer. I will write him a message, which I hope you will carry back to England for me and see delivered. If you would like the Stanton lands, I will ask the king to give them to you, although there is no guarantee that he will. Still, as the Lynbridges and the Radcliffes are related by blood, perhaps he will be generous, and it would, of course, please me to know that Andrew’s brother now possessed what was once Stanton. And your grandsire would have been delighted. And I will write to Lady Margaret as well, thanking her for interceding for me.”

“I would have never believed that you could release Stanton so easily,” Robert Lynbridge said in a surprised tone.

“Easily? Nay, not easily, Rob, but I have been gone for over two years from Stanton. The hall is destroyed The Stanton folk are scattered or dead. The only thing that remains of the Stanton that I once knew and loved
are my memories. They will reside with me here in Scotland for as long as I live.”

He shook his head. “You surprise me, Adair. You have changed greatly from the girl who was Andrew’s wife, and whose devotion to Stanton was even greater than any love she might have felt for my brother, God assoil his good soul.”

The barb hurt. What right had Robert Lynbridge to criticize her? Would he have come looking for her if the king’s messenger had not come to Hillview seeking his aid? She seriously doubted it, even if he had been her husband’s elder brother. He had his own lands to attend to, and she had not wanted his help anyway where Stanton was concerned. “Aye, God assoil Andrew’s good soul,” she said. “He died with honor, and I was proud of him, Rob. But much has changed for me since that day he marched off to join my uncle in his final battle for England’s throne.”

“Has it changed so much that you would wed a
Scot?” Rob asked her bluntly. “This union can be annulled so you may have a good English husband, and your own family’s lands back. Once the Radcliffe name meant everything to you, Adair. So much so that my brother must take it for his own if he was to be your husband.”

“But for all of Lord John’s loving kindness I was never really a Radcliffe, was I, Rob?” Adair answered him. “I was a king’s brat, a royal bastard. Naught else.

Conal Bruce and I share far more than I ever shared with Andrew. We shared a child.”

“You have a child?” He was surprised. She had shown no signs of children with his brother. “Where is this child?”

“Buried on the hillside,” Adair said quietly. “Our daughter, Jane, was born late last winter, and lived less than a day. So you see, Rob, my good lord and I are bound together for life. And with God’s blessing we will have other children.”

BOOK: A Dangerous Love
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