Heaven and the Heather (37 page)

But Rizzio held her by the arm. She turned on him with the sudden viciousness of a cat cornered. “Let me go!”

“
Signorina
,” he purred. “I would not allow you to muddle what your Highlander seems to be carrying out quite aptly.”

She stopped struggling and stared at Niall with the Queen. The Italian spoke the truth, much to her relief, much to her surprise…or was it? Niall had charmed her and at one time Sabine had thought that a most impossible prospect.

“I wish to move nearer,” she told Rizzio.

“And I shall escort you,
signorina
.”

Grateful to have the Italian, a trusted confidant of Her Majesty, with her, Sabine placed her hand in the crook of his arm. She walked slowly, but determinedly, toward the throne, practically dragging Rizzio, with her.

“Let’s pause here,
signorina
, beside the groaning board, behind the wild boar. We can observe unnoticed.”

Sabine glanced at the cooked whole pig. The largest apple she had ever seen was stuffed between its honey-glazed jaws. “Are you certain the boar is not watching us, and I mean the pig, not Lord Darnley sitting to the right of Her Majesty?” she asked with a smile.

Rizzio leaned against her a little, his small body quaking with silent laughter.

Sabine wished she could continue to share his mirth. She had no idea why she made such a biting observation about the roasted boar and the perpetually reticent object of the queen’s affection. Despite the criticisms Sabine had heard the court level against Lord Darnley, Her Majesty seemed not vexed by them in the least. It was natural that she would be so attentive to Niall. He spoke to her in the clearest Scots he could manage. Canard had tailored one of his old doublets and pantaloons to Niall’s firm body. Her Majesty, clearly, was charmed by his natural and confident manner, and the immortal blue in his eyes that echoed the supreme bravery and strength of his spirit. Sabine never had been so proud or enamored of him as she was now.

“You do honor me, Good Sir, with your compliments,” Mary said. “For I have been in this country of my father, and still feel the stranger to it.”

“How could Yer…ahem…
Your
Majesty be a stranger to Scotland?” Niall said giving her a slight bow. “When your royal presence brings a great light of hope to every corner of your realm.”

“The great flatterer, is he not, Lord Darnley?” Mary asked.

“Yes, Yer Royal Highness,” Darnley droned from behind his glass of brandy.

 
“Such charm is rare in all corners of Scotland, Good Sir,” Her Majesty said. “Tell me, from which corner of my realm do you come?”

Sabine gasped and held her breath, she leaned forward on the table, craned over the boar, her ears pricked to every word. The groaning board shifted a bit.

“
Mademoiselle
Sabine,” came a harsh whisper in her ear.

“Do not bother me,” she said.

Niall continued to capture the queen in his sapphire stare. He would boldly tell her the truth, Sabine knew. Highland honor gave him no capacity to speak a lie. Sabine prayed he would hold his words a moment longer, enough for her to join him.

“
Signorina
, ’tis not I who wishes to speak to you,” Rizzio said.

“Mademoiselle.”
A great shadow dropped over her. She could not help but look up at
Monsieur
Le Canard. “I have to tell you of an urgent matter.”

“What could be more urgent than what is taking place before Her Majesty?”

“The other Highlander, the cretin, he has escaped my notice.”

“Rory? He’s gone…well, good riddance. He has done nothing but bring Niall ill tidings,” Sabine quipped. Why was everyone bothering her now of all times?

Monsieur Le Canard leaned on the groaning board. The planks beneath the white linen cloth sang with displeasure at the added weight. “The Campbell had arrived. He has caused more than a slight ruckus with the guards. I fear they had no choice but to let him pass.”

“Sweet Saint Giles!” Sabine gasped.

Le Canard leaned forward more. The planks suddenly shifted, throwing him off balance.

The boar, along with a cornucopia of vegetables, breads and fruit sailed through the air accompanied by the cracking of the table’s planks as Le Canard crashed down. Sabine had no time to gasp before she tumbled forward. Her mask caught on the French giant’s sleeve. The disguise tore from her face. She rolled unceremoniously down the shattered planks, over the ruined victuals to a stop at Her Majesty’s feet.

“Well,
Monsieur
Le Canard,” Mary said. “’Tis a grand
comèdie
you have performed. You are to be commended.”

The giant forced himself to his feet and bowed his bulk back into the stunned crowd, leaving Sabine with a sympathetic stare.

Niall helped Sabine to her feet. She immediately caught her sovereign’s harsh stare.

“Well, this
comèdie
gets livelier, more intriguing. A return performance, no doubt. And, look, our Sabine is the principle player. ’Tis a shame her tenure will end abruptly with the gaol,” the queen said.

“I beg yer difference, Yer Majesty,” Niall said giving her a sweeping bow. “But ’tis another who deserves the Royal gaol.”

“
Who are you?
” Mary asked.

“
Non
,” Sabine warned Niall. Some truth must be kept intact.

He gazed deep into her eyes, showing her the blue and hope. “I must, my love. The honor and the respect I bear for my sovereign compels me to continue.”

He swept off his mask. His auburn hair spilled down to his shoulders no longer hindered by the silken tie. Sabine felt her knees weaken. This was a mistake, them coming here. From the look in her queen’s eyes, Sabine was certain Niall would surely die. She moved closer to him.

“The
comèdie
grows,” Mary said. “I shall refuse the encore by summoning the guards.”

“
Non
,” Sabine breathed.

“I must request yer audience, Most Gracious Majesty…” Niall stood upright. “I willnae beg ye for it.”

“Beg, Niall,” Sabine whispered to herself. “To save your life.”

“A proud Highlander, are you?” Mary said. “Will such pride remain when you dangle from the noose?”

“For what crime, Your Majesty?” Sabine asked suddenly. The fear of defying her queen faded with her concern, her love, for Niall. “He has done nothing.”

“You misspeak yourself,” Mary snapped. Her pale eyes flashed as brilliantly as the hundreds of jewels bedecking her gown.

“Your Majesty, I tell the truth.”

Sabine curtsied and glanced at Niall.

“Tell her,” he said, “before the walls crumble about ye.”

Tilting her chin up, a defiant gesture in the presence of her queen, Sabine knew that either she take the plunge into the fire now or remain silent and allow the truth of her innocence to keep her company behind the iron bars of the Royal gaol.

“I would rather see my own grave, Your Gracious Majesty, before I would deem to see you in yours.”

“Well spoken,” Niall said boldly taking her right hand and giving it a squeeze. Sabine squeezed it back imagining she took some of Niall’s strength with it.

“Yes, I daresay, t’was well-spoken,” Her Majesty said, “for a lie.”

“’Tis not a lie!” Sabine shouted. “I love you, Your Majesty! Has my loyal service for five years not proven that to you?”

“No more than you have proved your contempt by spurning our desire to have you marry Lord Campbell, and instead, seeking this
Highlander
!”

Sabine pulled from Niall and dropped to the queen’s feet. She clasped her hands together and looked up, forcing herself not to cry. Instead, she drew upon the strength she had taken to her heart from Niall’s kingdom of the Highlands.

“Niall MacGregor has as much honor and fealty toward Your Most Gracious Person than the entire court present. His honor and courage to face the truth come from the most magical part of your kingdom, the Highlands. Those who dwell there have honor and truth in their everyday spirit. They use the beauty all around them and the kinship with each other to cloak the threats ever-present in their lives. There is wonder in the good lives of those that crave the freedom to live in peace, and yet have been denied it.”

“Denied it, by whom?” Mary asked. Sabine said a small prayer thankful that Her Majesty had deemed to hear her out and inquire more.

Sabine looked back at Niall. It was time for him to speak for his clan.

He stepped forward, bowing. “If ye’ll permit me an indulgence, Yer Majesty…” He reached down to his sporran.

“No!” Lord Darnley rose from his stupor, tossed aside the glass with a crash and brought forth a small dagger.

Niall regarded him, but continued to reach into his sporran. “Would it that I would dare lay a weapon at my sovereign’s throat before a grand protector like yourself?” Sarcasm chewed at his words. “I would surely put my own head in the noose,” he said to the wilting noble. “No, m’Lord, I have a letter for Her Majesty.” He removed the paper and snapped it open. The red wax seal glistened in the light of the hundreds of candles illuminating the great hall. “May I read it ye, Yer Majesty, or would ye rather? ’Tis in the Gaelic.”

“A Highlander who can read,” she said with a small sniff, “astounding.”

“Aye, we are capable of a great many things, including saving Yer Majesty’s life.” He grinned.

Did Sabine’s eyes suddenly deceive her? Was that the hint of a smile plying on Mary’s lips? But of course it was. Niall’s charm had touched her as well.

“I shall read that paper on my own,” she said. “I do know some of this Gaelic.”

Niall bowed and offered the letter to Her Majesty.

“Atrocity! Lies!” A voice shouted from the rear of the great hall.

“Campbell!” Sabine hissed. “
Mon Dieu!
”

“What is this disturbance in one’s presence?” the queen demanded taking the letter from Niall just as he turned away from her to face his enemy.

Campbell stormed through the crowd, sword bared, fire in his eyes.

He stopped before the throne, and gave the queen a quick bow, before turning his wrath on Niall. He was not allowed to pounce further before Her Majesty’s guards grappled him, forcing the sword to the floor.

“How dare you intrude upon one’s celebration like this!” the queen shouted.

“I’ve come to save Your Most Gracious Majesty from the lies of these traitors!”

“Traitor?” Sabine said, voice tight. “I love my queen! ’Tis you who are the traitor!”

Niall took her by the arms and pulled her back around his body, shielding her from Campbell.

She shook against his back, anger rocking her.

“Our Sabine has forgotten where she is,” Mary said. “We do not allow emotions to flow as freely as the pride of these Highlanders. We see that our Sabine has taken on their lively Highland spirit from your journey there.”

Sabine nodded. “I take that as the highest compliment, Your Majesty.”

“Order your guards to release me,” Campbell snarled between gritted teeth.

The queen nodded to her guards. “Stay close though.”

Campbell adjusted his doublet with a snap and gave her a quick bow. “I am sorry to see Your Majesty forced into such disagreeable company.”

“Aye,” Niall said. “Things were much more agreeable before ye came.”

Sabine could not help but smile.

Campbell narrowed his gaze then stole a quick glance at his sword on the floor.

“We will read this letter that has caused so much consternation,” Mary said. “All concerned should remain before us in silence.”

She raised the paper up before her eyes and began reading.

Sabine’s sketch of Niall was suddenly displayed for all to see except the queen. A gasp shuddered through the court. Sabine looked at Niall, horrified. He, in turn, grinned and stood a little taller. Highland spirit, be damned, Sabine thought, that sketch could place both of them squarely in the gaol if the queen turned the paper over.

Sabine glanced at Campbell who stood bathed in fury. He, obviously, had seen the sketch.

Niall took her right hand. She squeezed it tight and held her breath.

With a sigh, the queen folded the letter. Sabine sagged in relief. Mary looked at Campbell then shifted her gaze to Niall. “Highlander you bring me a most interesting dilemma.”

“And more,” Niall said with grin.

Sabine kicked his foot.

“He brings you nothing, Your Majesty!” Campbell bellowed.

“And how would you know this, Lord John, unless you have knowledge of this letter?”

“I have knowledge of no letter, Your Majesty,” he said craning his neck to see what she held.

“Liar,” Sabine breathed. She stepped out from behind Niall and faced Campbell. “You are the traitor. I have proof—the queen has it—it is your letter bearing your seal and the order to have the queen murdered.”

“Bloody bitch!” Campbell roared at her. In lightning progression, he leapt down, seized his sword, and stood, swinging it in an arc keeping the royal guards at bay. In an instant, he snatched Sabine against his body, crushing her. The nightmare had returned with stale perfume.