Highland Master (49 page)

“Jamie, were you listening?” Marsi demanded. “Naughty laddie!”

“I couldna sleep,” the dark-eyed lad who stood second in line for the Scottish throne said soberly, sounding, as he always did, much older than his years.

Hetty got up and reached for her yellow robe, which lay across a nearby stool. Putting it on, she said, “I’ll warm ye some milk, sir. It’ll settle ye again.”

“I don’t want milk. Must I command ye tae go with us, Marsi?”

“Oh, Jamie, I wish you could. But your royal ways
don’t fool me, laddie. You fear your uncle Albany almost as much as I do.”

“Aye, sure, but he canna find either of us if we are not here,” James pointed out. “When he leaves Turnberry, we can come back and be comfortable again with my royal sire. Do come, Marsi. Ye make me laugh, and Hetty does not.”

Marsaili hesitated, thinking furiously.

Hetty gave her a stern look. “My lady, ye must not. For once in your life, I pray ye—me, Hetty, who kens ye best—heed the dire consequences of such an act.”

But Marsi rarely heeded consequences. Before her doting parents had died and left her a ward of her aunt, the Queen of Scots, most consequences had been pleasant ones. And when they were not, they were nearly always soon over.

However, now that Annabella was dead and could no longer protect her, the consequences of remaining to face Albany would likely be worse than anything she had ever known.

“I could pose as your assistant, Hetty, and help you look after Jamie.”

“And
I
could help ye look after Marsi, Hetty,” James said.

Henrietta looked dourly at Marsi. “Good lack, what was I thinking to tell ye that ye must
not
?” she muttered. “A body would think that after knowing ye for all of your seventeen years I’d ken better nor to challenge ye so.”

“Is anyone else to go?” Marsi asked. “Any of Jamie’s gentlemen?”

“Nay, for the King’s grace kens fine that some of them
be in Albany’s pay, and nae one save Albany kens which ones. We’ll leave before they arise, I expect.”

“Then there is naught to stop me,” Marsi said. “I must get some of my clothing, but then I’ll come back here.”

“Ye’ve nowt that be suitable for a maidservant to wear, my lady! Nor would ye fool anyone for long in such a menial guise, for ye were no born to it.”

But now that she had made up her mind, Marsi dismissed such objections without hesitation. “I can easily talk as a common maidservant would, Hetty, as you know gey well, having often scolded me for doing so. I shall say that I served Annabella and that she gave me some of her cast-off clothing. She did give it away, after all. Then I can say that since you and I hail from the same part of Scotland, when my position ended with her grace’s death, I offered to help you.”

“I can say that I know her well, too, Hetty, for I do,” Jamie said.

“Faith, but I can also say that I just want to go home,” Marsi said. “After all, wherever we go from here, we are likely to go north or east. If worse comes to worst, I can tell whoever escorts us to take me to my uncle Malcolm at Stobhall in Perth. He wants me to marry his second son, and I can tell you, Hetty, if the choice is between a toady of Albany’s and my dullard cousin Jack, I’d
prefer
Jack.”

Two hours earlier

Striding across the flagstone floor of the royal audience hall at Turnberry, the tall, broad-shouldered young knight filled the room with crackling energy even as he dropped
to a knee before its sole, elderly occupant and bowed his head.

“You sent for me, sire?”

“If you are the knight that other men call Hawk, I did, aye,” the King of Scots murmured, his raspy voice barely above a whisper. “I have sore need of you, lad.”

“I am Hawk,” Sir Ivor Mackintosh said, fighting to conceal his dismay at how much the King had aged since the only other time he had seen him, three years before. “How may I serve, your grace? Your messenger said it was gey urgent.”

“ ’Tis my Jamie,” muttered Robert III of Scotland, a king who had never sought or enjoyed his exalted position.

Ivor said gently, “Jamie, my liege, your younger son?”

A log shifted in the nearby fireplace, and sparks leaped before the King nodded and said, “Annabella… m-my Queen…” Pausing when his voice cracked, he added with tears welling in his pale blue eyes, “Annabella feared mightily for Jamie. Sithee, she had great fear of my brother, Albany. I canna believe he would harm a child, but ’tis better, I trow, to see the laddie safe than to weep for him if Annabella should prove to be right.”

“But what, exactly, are you asking of me, sire?”

“Albany sent a message a fortnight ago to say that he has business here that can nae longer wait upon the pleasure of those most concerned in it. He will be here tomorrow or Tuesday and he wants to take Jamie into his own custody. The Bishop of St. Andrews once told me that
he
can keep our laddie safe at St. Andrews Castle. You also ken Bishop Traill, he said, and St. Andrews as well.”

“I do, your grace. Had you a particular plan in mind?”

With a feeble gesture, the King said, “I want to ken nowt of any plans, for I am incapable of lying to my brother. Just get Jamie to St. Andrews.”

“I can be away in the morning if James can be ready by then,” Ivor said.

“You need only give the nursery mistress your orders when you arise,” the King said. “Henrietta already knows that Jamie may be traveling tomorrow.”

“Then, by your leave, sire, I will sleep, too,” Ivor said. “If you can tell me—”

“Aye, sure. My own man will show you to a room near the royal nursery.”

Bowing, Ivor bade the King goodnight and retired to bed only to awaken betimes when the lass in his dreams became real. However, afterward, thanks to years of knightly training and preparing for battle, he soon slept again and awoke only when the dawn’s gray light crept into the room.

His bruised hand reminded him of the lass, but he dressed nonetheless hastily. Then, deducing which door was that of the royal nursery, he rapped on it lightly.

Marsi opened the door, took one nervous look at the tall, well-formed, stern-looking man who stood at the threshold and quickly swept him a deep curtsy. Then, speaking over her shoulder as she rose again, she said, “Mistress Henrietta, methinks ’tis the gentleman ye’re expecting, though he do be earlier than ye said he’d come.”

“Do not chatter, lass, but come and assist his lordship to dress whilst I talk with the gentleman,” Hetty said sternly. “I am Henrietta Childs, Mistress of the Royal Nursery,
sir,” she added, and Marsi moved to obey her, glancing back as she did.

Without awaiting further invitation, the man stepped into the room and shut the door. “I believe you understand, mistress,” he said, “that we must be away as soon as possible and without any ado. His grace’s man awaits us near the sea gate.”

“The sea gate!” Marsi’s exclamation was out before she knew she would speak. Trying to conceal her dismay, she glanced at Jamie and saw that his eyes were wide with delight. Turning next to their visitor, she said, “But where do we go?”

The man looked at Hetty, who said sharply to Marsi, “Hold your tongue, lass. Ye ken fine that ye’ve nae call to put yourself forward so. I did say that I would have need of ye, but if ye cannot behave, we will leave ye right here.”

Quickly bowing her head, Marsi strove to look contrite, but James said in a tone just as stern as Hetty’s, “Marsi
must
come with us, for I want her. And if we are to go on a ship, I will
need
her, Hetty. Ye ken fine that boats always make ye sick.”

Eyeing their visitor again, Marsi saw that he was looking sterner than ever, but before Jamie had stopped speaking, the man’s gaze shifted to her. Feeling herself tense, she took a deep breath, but his expression had already turned thoughtful, and he said only that Hetty should hurry her charges along so they could all get going.

The man had forgotten all about
her
, Marsi decided, so he could have no suspicion that she was the girl who had fled from his bed the night before.

To be sure, she had put on a plain moss-green kirtle and a simple white apron. And, fearing that he might recognize her hair, she had covered it completely with a frilly white cap. Even so, and although she was relieved that he did not seem to recognize her, she felt an odd sense of disappointment, as if he
should
have.