The Beauty of the Mist (17 page)

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Authors: May McGoldrick

Tags: #Romance, #highlander, #jan coffey, #may mcgoldrick, #henry viii, #trilogy, #braveheart, #tudors

BOOK: The Beauty of the Mist
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Isabel acknowledged the nod from the Highlander with a serene smile.

“WHAT FOR?” she shouted, nearly upsetting the tray of food.

John glared at the woman. “Lady Isabel, notwithstanding what I just said, have you always been this pleasant, or has this wound to your shoulder simply added to your charm?”

Isabel ignored his remark. “Stop barking at me like some cur and answer my question.”

“I’m the one barking...?” John’s eyes narrowed on the woman’s face. “Why don’t you mind your own business and stop poking into other people’s affairs?”

“Affairs! You’ve chosen the right word, there!” Isabel huffed. “I’ll not change my ways simply because of the threats of some Scottish pirate.”

“Aye, you will,” John answered. “Maria is twenty three years old, for God’s sake. If the woman lived in Scotland, by now she’d be nursing her sixth bairn and managing not just her own affairs...er, business...but her husband’s and children’s, to boot. And if she were married to a laird, she’d be happily managing the business of everyone living in the villages, as well.”

“Wait a moment!” Isabel broke in. “Are you calling her
old
?”

“Nay, I am calling
you
a meddler!”

Isabel started, and then plunked her cup down hard on the tray. “Maria is my responsibility. I need to look after her.”

“A bairn needs looking after,” John argued. “A grown woman doesn’t.”

Isabel bit her tongue. As great as the temptation was, she couldn’t tell him the truth about Maria. That as a queen, as the emperor’s sister–regardless of her age and situation, Maria needed looking after. She was quite tempted to tell him how dangerous a game he was–unwittingly–playing.

“Isabel, you seem to be an intelligent, worldly woman...”

“Don’t humor me,” she snapped, cutting him short.

“Very well, I won’t,” John answered. “Isabel, you are a crafty, suspicious, shrew of a duenna...”

“That’s better.” Isabel straightened the blankets on her lap. Seeing his raised eyebrows, she nodded calmly. “You may continue.”

“Thank you. What I was trying to say–if you are done interrupting me–is that with all your worldly knowledge and all your great insight, you fail to see beyond the end of your own nose. Aye, you fail to understand Maria, at all.”

“And you do, I suppose!”

John raised a hand in a plea for silence. “Let me finish.”

“Very well. This should be very entertaining!”

“My coming here this morning, my desire to see your niece is as much for her sake as it is for mine. And don’t, for one moment, think I would come to
you
if I were looking for a mistress in Maria.” Seeing the tightening of her lips, John knew he at last had Isabel’s attention. “I’ve only known Maria for a few short days, but during this time I’ve been able to see a side of her that I think you have obviously failed to see after a lifetime of being with her.”

“I doubt that,” Isabel interjected.

“You would. Because you don’t want to see the truth.” John leaned down and rested his elbows on his knees. His eyes bore into Isabel’s. “Maria possesses both rare beauty and extraordinary intellect, but she retains the fears of a bairn. She seems afraid, uncertain, lost. She is clearly unprepared to face life. I am willing to wager, just from what I’ve seen, that Maria, rather than staying and overcoming obstacles that face her, always sees it safest to run away from them. After seeing you, Lady Isabel, after seeing your protectiveness of her, it is not too difficult to see that she has always been allowed to run from her problems. That is, those problems that you don’t resolve for her.”

“That’s not...”

“Let me finish,” John cut in. “Put yourself in her place. Treat her as you would want to be treated, if you were in her place, at her age, in her position. That’s all I am asking. Don’t forget a bairn never learns to walk until you let go of her hand.”

“But she could fall.”

“Aye, and then she gets up and learns to walk,” he answered.

“Some children cannot afford to fall.”

Isabel paused and fell silent for a moment. She herself had never been protected from life, as Maria had. But she herself was only an aging aunt of the Holy Roman Emperor.

“You’ve said enough,” she said quietly. “If this is not my business, it is even less yours.”

“Perhaps, m’lady,” John continued. “But there is more. Maria is unhappy. We have spoken, Isabel, and I believe she has never been truly happy. Ever.”

“She had a...good marriage,” Isabel argued weakly, knowing even as she spoke the words that Maria’s marriage had little to recommend itself in the areas of happiness or of love.

“I know that she was married. She told me that. And I know what kind of marriage it must have been, when after four years with the man, she carries in her heart no sense of loss for him? I know what kind of marriage that is, Isabel. It is the marriage that families arrange to better their own interests.”

“Did she tell you this?” Isabel asked, her shock evident in her face. No wonder Maria had spent a sleepless night.

John nodded. “She needs a friend, Isabel. And, for a few days, anyway, I would like to be that friend.”

Isabel stared at him for the longest time. He was going through a lot of work to convince her. A man of his rank and his looks might have picked a different approach, one that would have not involved dealing with Isabel.

“It is true, we don’t appear to be going anywhere in this fog, but why should you waste your time on Maria, Sir John?” she asked. “Unless you admit that you have other motives?”

“What ‘other motives’?” John asked calmly.

“You don’t fool me, young man. Things...” She waved her hand in the air. “Things that happen between a man and a woman. I haven’t reached this advanced age living behind the walls of a convent, I want you to know.”

“I’m certain that you haven’t, m’lady. But then I’ll be asking you why you’re treating Maria as if she should be living behind those very walls?”

Isabel stared, unable to answer his question.

“Lady Isabel, it’s clear that Maria relies on you. But for once, stay out of this and let Maria stand on her own two feet. I only hope to talk her into spending time with me. I’ll introduce her to those aboard who have some redeeming quality to them. As you say, this ship is going nowhere in these mists. What harm can it do, for the time we are on board, amongst strangers, to exchange a few friendly words?”

“She has a reputation,” Isabel interjected. “And it...well, it isn’t the exchange of words that I’m concerned about.”

As much as he hated to admit it, John knew exactly what she was talking about. “I’ll admit to you that I’m attracted to the lass, but I’ll also give you my word that while we are at sea, I’ll not whisk her away to my cabin, and I’ll not take her to my bed.”

His bluntness and his offer silenced Isabel at once. He had made the promise that she had wanted him to make. “Your word?”

“My word,” he repeated.

The elder woman contemplated his words. Looking at his face, she had no doubt of the sincerity of his vow. She had called Maria a fool the day before for falling victim to his words. And now she was doing the same thing. She was allowing herself to be charmed by him.

But he had a point. Maria was unhappy. She had always been unhappy. That sadness had been the reason why Isabel had made the trip from Castile. To come and save her, from herself and from her brother. Oh, let me burn in hell for it, Isabel swore under her breath. If this Highlander has the power to make Maria smile, and to make her happy, even for a few short days, then so be it. For Maria had always been living in a kind of darkness, she realized, never really allowed to feel the sun on her skin or even the rain on her face. What the future held in store was far too uncertain, but Isabel knew that the odds were overwhelming. Soon, Maria would take her place as queen, if not among the Scots, somewhere. This was, perhaps, her one opportunity.

“Aye, show her how to live.” Isabel nodded. “Show her the beauty of the mist!”

Chapter 10

 

The young woman curtsied before tucking the coin inside her apron and backing hurriedly out of the room.

As the door closed softly, Caroline vaulted easily off her bunk. Tossing the blanket of blond hair over one shoulder, she moved to the high table where she’d carelessly thrown the ring and gold chain a moment earlier. With great effort Caroline had avoided showing the serving lass how keen she was to learn whatever there was to learn about her adversary. After all, the prices would only go up if she showed much interest. And Caroline smiled smugly, thinking how cheaply she’d gotten away with this. The young sneak had believed Caroline’s little act completely. So far as the young woman knew, there was no value whatsoever in what she had stolen from Maria’s cabin, and Caroline had paid her accordingly.

Picking up the ornate ring and chain, Caroline brought the band close to the flickering lantern light. It was a wedding ring, that she could tell. The intricate engraving, so striking to the eye, was a coat of arms that Caroline had seen before, but could not immediately identify. Bringing the golden object closer to her eye, she couldn’t help but admire the rampant, crowned lion set against a ring of meticulously carved foliage and flowers. She stared again. The shield on the lion’s chest featured another symbol. She squinted her eyes. A double-headed eagle.

Many a family in Europe used these animals in their coat of arms, but this one was quite elegant. Wracking her brain, she tried to recall where she had seen this combination, but to no avail.

Well, it was a start, she thought, letting the ring dangle from the chain. Gathering the ring and chain up in both hands, Caroline smiled. She would find out more. She was only getting started.

 

“What do you mean, we have company?” Maria asked in shock, eyeing the new gown Isabel had somehow managed to change into. The deep maroon color of the fabric had brought some color to her aunt’s complexion. Isabel looked the best she had since being injured.

“There is a lovely dress for you, thanks to our hosts, sitting next to the chess-board. I recommend you change into it.” The older woman directed the young serving lass to get it. “I am tired of seeing you in that same thing, day after day. And if I were you, I would hurry. I need your help, and there is not much time left until our dinner company arrives.”

Maria watched in amazement as the servant jumped to her aunt’s commands. From her cabin, she had been surprised to hear her aunt ordering the young girl about, but, entering Isabel’s cabin, Maria had never expected to walk into commotion such as this. The room had been rearranged, and an extra table, laden with bread and fish and pastries, had been brought in and set up in one corner. The serving girl stood behind her, but Maria focused her attention on Isabel.

“You are a different woman than you were last night,” Maria said accusingly. “But as far as this dinner! Entertaining! Isabel, you don’t know anyone on this ship. How could you invite them to dinner?”

Maria waved her hand at the elegant dinner that awaited.

“This is not your...” Maria was about to say–your palace in Castile–but caught herself, remembering the presence of the other woman in the room. “You’re a guest! And not to mention, the wound in your shoulder is hardly healed enough to...”

“I don’t want to hear any more of this, young woman. Now be on your way. Go. Change. Make yourself attractive. I don’t want to do this alone.”

Maria stood her ground. “How did this thing ever get started, anyway? This has something to do with Sir John’s visit this morning, doesn’t it?”

“Were you listening at the keyhole, Maria?”

“There is no keyhole!” Maria shot back in denial. A light blush spread quickly to her cheeks as she thought of the serving girl listening to all of this. “You know I would never do such a thing.”

“You knew he was here, though.”

Maria nodded. “Of course. I made out his voice when he first came in, but I certainly didn’t eavesdrop on your argument!”

Isabel smiled. “So you heard us quarrel?”

Maria, blushing furiously, glared at her aunt. “Just answer my question, Isabel. Is this grand dinner tonight the result of your visit with Sir John?”

“Take her away,” Isabel ordered to the young servant, ignoring Maria. “Take her away and help her dress. And while you’re at it, see what you could do with her hair. Put some life into it, will you?”

Maria paused a moment longer, unwilling to surrender the field. Then, hearing the knock on the door, she watched in utter amazement as the door opened to her aunt’s command, and Christy marched in with two sailors carrying a number of additional platters of fruits and bottles of wine.

“Be on your way, Maria,” Isabel directed again.

Backing out of the bustling cabin, Maria turned and moved swiftly into the quiet of her own smaller room. The serving girl had already spread sets of underclothing and the dress on her small bunk.

“I can manage this myself,” Maria said gently to the young girl. “You will be of much greater use to my aunt than to me.”

As the woman politely curtsied and left, Maria remained where she stood, thinking over this new turn of events. She had been bound and determined not to see him again. And she hadn’t lied to Isabel in saying she hadn’t eavesdropped on their conversation today, though it had been difficult to ignore their raised voices.

It had been a long and trying night, last night. She had laid awake in her small bunk for hours, haunted by conflicting feelings of duty and freedom–and by other things, as well. With her eyes open to the flickering glow of the lantern, her mind’s eye had been on him. John Macpherson and his magical touch, his soothing words. Lying there, she could almost feel, all over again, the incredible passion of their encounter. Why was it that she had never known desire such as this. How could it be that she had never even known that such feelings could exist? A lifetime of discipline, of doing the correct thing, of controlling all emotions, had all been upended in a single moment. He had made her forget, and had made her feel. The chaotic tumult of emotions battered at her reason, but still a ragged line of defense remained. She could not allow herself to capitulate so completely. Her future was too uncertain. The plan for her future lay too close...to close to him.

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