Kill or Be Kilt (21 page)

Elizabeth gazed at the fallen man who still did not move. “Ian, is he all right?”

“Aye, the breath was probably knocked out of him. Give him a moment.”

Lord Dormer's opponent handed his lance to a groom and dismounted. He removed his helmet as he walked with haste to Lord Dormer's side. The man dropped his headgear and fell to his knees. He was shouting for assistance to remove Lord Dormer's armor, and then Elizabeth could've sworn she heard the man cry out.

As men gathered, encircling Lord Dormer, Elizabeth couldn't see anything. She glanced behind her at Lady Margery and Lady Gillian, and their expressions mirrored her own. Elizabeth felt Ian grasp her arm with the intent to lead her away from the unfolding scene.

“No. Please, Ian. I have to stay and find out if he's all right.”

He released his grip, but she took his hand and held it tightly. When a handful of men stepped back, Lord Dormer's armor had been removed. His clothing was soaked in blood. What frightened her more was that she could see a pool of blood from where she sat in the bleachers.

“I don't understand. I thought the lances had blunt tips. How could Lord Dormer be bleeding?”

No sooner did she ask the question when one of the grooms grabbed the lance that had unseated Lord Dormer. As men studied the tip, Lord Dormer's opponent shouted as the king's guard raced toward him.

“That is not my lance! Someone replaced mine with a pointed tip! It wasn't me!”

“Hang him! He's been killing members of the Privy Council!” shouted someone from the stands.

“Off with his head!” screamed a man from behind her.

Elizabeth sat in awe as the man was dragged away by the king's guard, and Lord Dormer's lifeless body was carried off the field.

Ian wanted to take Elizabeth far away from the bowels of court. Not only was he unsettled that she'd witnessed a man being killed in the light of day, but what irked him even more was that there was nothing he could do. Last evening Condell was an arse, and this morn, someone was murdered before her eyes. He couldn't shelter her. He couldn't erase what she'd seen. And he couldn't take her home.

As Ruairi, Fagan, Ian, and Elizabeth reached the entrance to the great hall, Laird Fraser walked toward them with an annoyed expression.

“I swear the king's only purpose is to torture the Highland lairds.”

“Fagan, would ye take Elizabeth inside?” asked Ian.

“Aye. Come now, lass.” Fagan wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and the men followed them into the great hall. Ian gestured the Fraser and Ruairi against the far wall.

“What do ye mean? Tell me ye had your audience,” said Ruairi.

“Och, aye. We met with the king…for less than five minutes. He asked us the same questions he always does about crops and rents, but he wanted to know how many men I had at my command. The MacKay thinks the king is considering a costly war with Spain.”

“There's been a peace treaty for years,” said Ian.

The Fraser's eyes darted around the hall, and then he leaned against the wall, lowering his voice. “'Tis nay secret the Crown is in debt. As ye can see for yourself—” He gestured with his hand. “The king spares nay expense. Since he dismissed parliament and has nay parliamentary subsidies, the entire realm has nay coin with which to bargain. It will nae be long before they donna have a pot to piss in.”

Before the Fraser continued, he glanced around the hall to make certain no one overheard. “There are whispers the king has been making futile attempts to negotiate policies with Spain. But Spain does nae want war. The country declared they would nae interfere with King James's rule in Ireland if he was willing to curtail English attacks in Spanish waters. But ye know the damn English, always wanting to take what is nae theirs. The Ross heard the king has resorted to selling earldoms to gather coin for his cause.”

“I can nae see how anything would become of it, even selling earldoms,” said Ruairi. “Ye can nae support a war with coin ye donna have.”

The Fraser shrugged. “Nevertheless, the king is nae alone with his thoughts. Och, aye. He dismantled parliament for nae agreeing with his views, but there are men who yet share his opinion like his damn Privy Council. But that problem may work itself out.”

“Sooner than ye may think. Did ye hear another man, a member of the council, was killed at the jousting tournament just now?” asked Ian.

The Fraser smiled. “As I said, the problem may yet work itself out.”

“Are ye traveling back to Scotland on the morrow?” asked Ruairi.

“Nay, we take our leave now. I donna want to spend one more waking moment in this hell with the English.”

“I can nae say that I blame ye,” said Ian.

“Ah, there's the Ross and the MacKay now.” The Fraser's eyes lit up. “I am going home.”

“
Turas math dhut
,” said Ian.
Have a good journey.

When the man walked away, Ian sighed. “I know the king's guard has been watching over members of the council, but I ne'er would've anticipated a jousting tournament ending in such disaster.”

“Every day I am thankful my wife did nae accompany us to court. I donna think I'd be able to stop her from investigating the murders and finding out the man responsible. At least we donna have to worry about Elizabeth being a spy for the Crown.”

* * *

“Who could have done such a horrible thing? Who could have replaced Lord Dormer's lance with a sharp tip?” asked Lady Gillian.

“Shhh…lower your voice, Gillian,” said Lady Margery.

Elizabeth glanced at Fagan sitting at the other end of the table waiting for Ian and Ruairi. If he'd heard Lady Gillian's question, he didn't acknowledge it.

“They seized the wrong man. Any fool can see that. Something is not right. Why would he kill Lord Dormer in front of a crowd with hundreds of eyes upon him?”

The way Lady Gillian asked the question Elizabeth didn't think she wanted an answer.

Lady Gillian's accusatory voice stabbed the air. “It had to have been one of the grooms. They were the only men who could've switched the lances. Margery and I were there early and didn't see anyone except the men in the competition and their grooms.”

“But what could a groom possibly gain by murdering a lord from the king's council?” asked Elizabeth. “I can't think of anything, can you?”

While Lady Gillian mulled over the question, Lady Margery said, “No one knows why men do what they do. Some will do anything to advance their position for political gain.” She paused, deep in thought. “At least Father has guards around him night and day. And we can be assured that he will
not
be participating in a jousting tournament.”

Elizabeth gave Lady Margery a compassionate smile. “I'm certain your father is very well protected. You don't have anything to worry about.” Elizabeth wished that was true. The only thing she knew for certain was the man responsible for killing members of the council must have also murdered her uncle.

“Let's think of something else. There's been enough darkness for today. Have you seen Mister Condell lately?” asked Lady Gillian.

Elizabeth tried to mask her uneasy expression. “No, I haven't.”

“I've heard he will not be performing as King Henry for the final performance in two days. More's the pity, if you ask me. He made a debonair king and was the perfect match for the role.”

“I haven't heard that,” said Lady Margery. “Did they say
why
?”

Elizabeth took a sip of mulled wine.

“I think he had an accident with his horse. His face was bruised and his nose was broken.”

Elizabeth choked on her drink, and Lady Gillian patted her on the back. “Are you all right, Lady Elizabeth?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“I suppose another actor will assume his role, but I don't think anyone will compare to the handsome Mister Condell. Lady Elizabeth, we'd love you to accompany us to the play as our guest,” said Lady Gillian. “I'm sure
Henry VIII
will not be the same without Mister Condell, but your company would be most welcome. To be honest, I can't imagine sitting with my father and listening to his tedious conversations with the council. I swear, sometimes they barely stop to breathe.”

“Yes, won't you join us, Lady Elizabeth? We'd love to have you. We're leaving court the day after the play and traveling home to the country. I'm afraid we won't have much longer together,” said Lady Margery.

Ian walked into the great hall with Ruairi, and Elizabeth stood, smoothing her skirts. “Pray excuse me.”

“Lady Elizabeth, are you sure you don't want to ask Laird Sutherland to join us?” asked Lady Gillian coyly.

“Gillian, he's wed,” said Lady Margery in a scolding tone.

“Yes, but that's never stopped me before.”

Elizabeth walked away before Lady Gillian thought of something else to ensnare Ruairi into her lair. Elizabeth took her seat beside Ruairi and across from Ian at the table.

“Was everything all right with Laird Fraser? He seemed distraught.”

Ruairi chuckled. “He was because he traveled all this way to court. When finally granted his audience, he met with the king for less than five minutes.” He lowered his voice. “The lairds all know the king does this. It happens every year. He tries to make us heel because he thinks we are barbarians.”

She tried to wipe the smile from her face. “Well, you all
are
a bit unruly.”

“Did I hear Grace?” asked Fagan, gazing around the hall. “Did ye hear anything, Munro?”

“Nay. I was too busy being unruly.” Ian glanced over Elizabeth's shoulder. “I almost did nae recognize Kinghorne without his mother.”

Something clicked in her mind. Lady Gillian and Lady Margery said they were at the tournament early. Elizabeth remembered the sisters mentioning they didn't see anyone except the men in the competition and their grooms. But Elizabeth realized that she had seen someone else.

Lord Kinghorne.

* * *

“Laird Munro, would you like to escort me for a walk in the garden?”

Ian finished what was left of his mulled wine and smiled. “Aye, I would.” He stood, and when he rounded the table, Ruairi grabbed his arm to stay him. A devilish look came into his friend's eyes.

“Good luck, Munro.”

As soon as they walked away, Elizabeth took his arm. “What was that about?”

“I'll tell ye in the garden.”

They walked through the halls and out into the fresh air. The scent of roses wafted in the wind as he ambled along the path with Elizabeth. When he reached down and removed his
sgian dubh
from his sock, Elizabeth's eyes widened.

“What are you doing with that?”

He stopped in front of a rosebush, and his eyes darted back and forth. “Ye keep watch.”

“Keep watch? For what may I ask?” He turned around and handed her two red roses. “Ian, although I appreciate the gesture, the gardeners will have your head if they find out you've cut the flowers from the palace grounds. Let's not forget your little attack on the rosebush when you beheaded the blooms at the other end of the gardens.”

He placed his
sgian dubh
back in his sock. “Then 'tis best if we donna get caught. Let's keep moving.”

As he walked through the gardens with Elizabeth, he wondered if she'd want him to bring her flowers once they were wed. At that moment, he realized he'd give her anything she asked.

“The Tullibardine sisters are worried for their father. You don't think Lord Dormer's killer was his opponent, do you?”

“Nay.”

“Lady Gillian thinks one of the grooms replaced the lance with a sharp point.”

“I donna think a groom would try such a feat.”

A curious expression crossed Elizabeth's face. “The sisters were at the tournament early and only saw the men in the competition and their grooms.”

Ian remained silent, not willing to offer encouragement.

Elizabeth stopped. “But I saw someone else near the grooms and lances at the tournament. The sisters did not.”

“Who?”

“Lord Kinghorne. He was with his mother.”

He gave her an appeasing smile. “Lass, Kinghorne is ne'er anywhere without his mother.”

“Yes, but what if he's using his frail mother as a cover to—”

“Kill the members of the council? Elizabeth…” Although Ian didn't say anything more, his face spoke.

“Well, when you say it like that, it does sound rather absurd.”

He took her by the elbow and led her to a bench. “I know ye're unsettled over what happened this morning so let me offer ye a distraction.”

“Here, Laird Munro? In the light of day? Even though I wouldn't mind repeating what happened between us, I think everyone in the garden would be quite surprised, unless that was your intention.”

Seeing the amusement in her eyes, he laughed. “That was nae exactly what I had in mind right now, but I have something to tell ye.”

“What is it?”

“I talked with Ruairi this morn and asked for your hand.”

She gasped. “You did?”

“Ye seem surprised.”

“I didn't think you'd ask so quickly.”

A shadow of alarm touched Ian's face. “Ye have nae changed your mind, have ye?”

She gave him a gentle smile. “Of course not. So what did my brother-in-law have to say?”

“He gave me his blessing but said the decision was yours. Nevertheless, I have a confession. Now that I've had a chance to think about it, I donna like the way, or where, I asked ye.”

He stood, and as he lowered himself on bended knee before her, she blurted out, “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I'm doing?” He grasped her hand and gazed into her eyes, refusing to falter. “Lady Elizabeth, I have been a fool. Ye saw something in me that I could nae see in myself. I have to warn ye. Loving me will nae be easy. I ask for your patience and understanding, but know that I'll ne'er again leave your side because I have been away from you for far too long. I am nae good with flowery words, but I offer ye all that I have. I give ye me, and ye'll have my love until I draw my verra last breath.”

He cleared his throat. “Elizabeth, would ye bestow upon me the greatest honor of becoming my wife?
Am pòs thu mi? Tha gràdh agam ort.
”

She sat forward on the bench, and her hand caressed his jaw. “Yes, Ian. I will marry you, and I love you too.” Elizabeth pulled him to his feet and gave him a raking gaze. “If you don't take me somewhere that I can kiss you, I'm going to have you in the middle of the garden.”

* * *

Ian pulled Elizabeth by the hand as they walked with hurried purpose through the garden. They stepped between two bushes and continued until they reached the garden wall. Ian's fingers took her arm with gentle authority and turned her to face him. His hand brushed the hair back from her neck as he studied her intently. His nearness was overpowering. At the base of her throat, a pulse beat and swelled as though her heart had risen from its usual place.

“Thank ye.”

“For what, may I ask?” she asked.

“Agreeing to be mine.”

She smiled. “I was always yours, Ian.”

He lowered his head, and the touch of his lips sent the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl. When he moved to plant a kiss in the hollow of her neck, she felt her knees weaken.

His lips recaptured hers, more demanding this time, and she shuddered. She pulled him close, running her fingers through his shoulder-length hair.