The Bedeviled Heart (The Highland Heather and Hearts Scottish Romance Series) (21 page)

In a moment, Cameron was at his side.

“I knew it would be ye, Cameron.” Mar greeted him quietly, almost sadly as he stiffly dismounted. Facing the chill wind sweeping down from the highlands, he pointed to the River Forth winding below them. “Do ye recall the summers we spent as children, sailing the river, fancying to be the Knights of the Round Table? We swore then to uphold honor and duty above all else.”

“Aye,” Cameron agreed softly, alighting from his charger to join the prince.

“It seems my brothers have forgotten,” Mar murmured, shaking his head as if he were bewildered. “I would we were back in times gone by, when as lads we stole the royal hounds from the kennels and falcons in the mews to hunt stags in the forest and hawk on the moors.”

“Aye.” Cameron expelled a heavy breath. “But those days seem gone forever, Mar. Now, I fear we tread upon paths once deemed impossible.”

“Meaning?” Mar asked, training his eyes on the desolate expanse of moor rising before him.

“I fear Thomas and his power over the king,” Cameron answered truthfully. “I fear both ye and Albany are in great danger. He’s all but convinced his majesty that his brothers are the whelps of whom Andrews speaks. He seeks to turn James against ye both.”

Mar did not reply. He stood silent, staring unseeing over the gathering gloom as the weather turned foul and rain began to fall. Finally, he spoke. “I do not fear my own brother, Cameron. He was born a poet, not a warrior. His heart is true, both Albany and I know it.”

“Aye, I do not doubt your brother’s heart.” Cameron wiped the rain from his face. “But I fear the trouble that Thomas is stirring. He may bring about events where the king has no choice but to obey the laws of treason.”

“Treason?” Mar shrugged. “I’ve done naught to bring about that concern.”

“Thomas will not need the truth,” Cameron warned. “’Tis best ye stay out of his sight, at least until June has past. Perhaps ye should visit France?”

For a moment, it seemed as if Mar entertained the suggestion, but then he gave a short laugh. “Thomas is ridiculously fond of finery, do ye not think?”

Cameron arched a brow.

“What do I have to fear from a mason intent only on gathering gold trinkets?” The young prince pointed ahead in the gloom. “Do ye see the stag, Cameron?”

Turning slowly, Cameron caught sight of a stag a short distance away, watching them from beneath the shelter of a lone tree. Mar clapped his hands and it started, bounding away.

“I’m that stag, dear cousin. Have ye ever witnessed a mason slay a stag with a brick? Thomas is no match for me.” With a soft chuckle, Mar mounted his horse and pointed back towards Stirling Castle. “I’ve lost my taste for riding in this foul weather. Shall we end this night with wine and fair maids?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. With a cry, he spurred his horse back down the hill, charging across the moors to the castle rising in the distance.

Cameron heaved a sigh and slowly mounted his charger, murmuring, “And so the folly begins. I would I had none of what is to come.”

Chapter Nine - The Princess

Kate entered Maura’s cottage, expecting to see her father but finding two messengers in his stead, one dressed in the livery of the Earl of Lennox and the other wearing the crest of the Royal Stewarts emblazoned upon his tunic.

“Princess Anabella summons ye at once to her chambers,” the princess’ man announced formally.

The other man stepped forward. “The most esteemed John Ferguson has joined the household of Cameron Malcolm Stewart, the Earl of Lennox, and kindly requests your company at the castle forthwith.”

Kate stared at the second man in utter shock. “Joined … the earl’s household?” she gasped.

But the men did not repeat their messages. Anxious to return to the castle, they spun on their heels and exited the cottage, leaving her to return on her own.

Astonished, Kate sank down on the straw pallet.

What had her father done?

Outside the cottage, darkness gathered and the wind rose, driving the rain against the shutters. She did not know how long she sat there, dumbfounded, staring at the cobwebs on the ceiling and listening to the beating rain.

She didn’t permit herself to think of Cameron.

It hurt too much to know that she would never again caress his face or trace her fingers along the dash of his chin.

Aye, she was furious with the man. Or she was desperately trying to be.

Then she stomped her foot.

Ach, if she were honest, her anger had already faded but it had been replaced by a hurt too deep to bear.

It was simply too painful to see him again, and her father knew that. His gentle, understanding words had proven he truly understood.

They had made plans that very day to move to Edinburgh forthwith. And she had gone to the almshouse to see if any traveling that way might provide her father with transportation.

So why had her own father betrayed her?

Picking up the empty flask that had contained the water from St. Fillans, she idly twirled it in her fingers, but then it reminded her of Cameron and his dark, passionate eyes.

She dashed it to the hearth, hoping to be angry once again, but experienced only a deep pang of sorrow.

How could her father join the earl’s household?

He was
her
father, not Cameron’s!

She might fail in finding her anger for Cameron, but she could summon it for her father. Aye, she’d make her way back to Stirling Castle and have a word with the earl’s new man, the new one named John Ferguson, and she’d remind him that his loyalty lay with his devoted daughter, the one who had struggled to bring him back from the brink of death these past long months.

Irritably, she threw her worn plaid over her head and stepped out into the darkness, squeezing her eyes shut against the fierce sheets of stinging rain.

She had scarcely taken a dozen steps when hooves thundered behind her, and she found herself swept upon the back of a massive chestnut charger and encircled by an arm of steel. Before she could respond, Cameron’s deep voice rang in her ear.

“Allow me to escort ye to Stirling Castle, lass.”

At once, her heart fluttered, and a lump rose in her throat. She couldn’t have replied, even if she had desired to, the relentless wind and rain rendered conversation impossible.

The ride proved a bittersweet one.

Though his touch reminded her that he wasn’t hers to keep, wounding her heart even more, she closed her eyes and leaned against him anyway, vowing to cherish each moment as the horse struggled up Castle Hill battling the wind and rain.

Aye, she would burn every second of this into her memory forever, to keep her company in the long, lonely nights ahead.

All too quickly, the horse trotted through the gates, across the courtyard and to the stables. As the stable lads sprang to open the doors wide, a warm, welcoming light greeted her along with the comforting smell of hay and horse.

It was only after Cameron swung her down from the back of his massive beast that Kate allowed herself to glance up into his dark, passionate eyes.

It was a mistake.

At once, she wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms. Bitterly, she grimaced and whispered, “
I liked ye better as an outlaw.”

“Well, now ye must deal with me as your dreaded lover!” Cameron’s dark eyes narrowed in a thunderous expression. His gaze turned suddenly hot and intense.

Aye, she was defenseless against the sensual power of the man. He didn’t even have to speak. His mere presence alone melted her resolve to flee. She couldn’t let him make her stay, there was no future for her in his life. She knew that too well.

Averting her eyes, she turned her head, but he reached out and lightly traced the line of her jaw before moving his thumb to smooth her frown away.

“I love ye, Kate,” he confessed, his voice soft and husky.

She sent him a wounded look. To speak those words now was entirely unfair. “Much evil is done in the name of love,” she said, her voice shaking with emotion.

He pulled her close, holding her head against his shoulder, and she could feel his hot breath upon her neck. “I’ve never loved afore, and I’ll never love any again as I love ye. Julian was right. It is already too late. Mayhap we should—”

She pushed him away, afraid of what she might do should he continue his sweet words. “Well, ye clearly loved enough to father three bairns,” she interrupted, seizing upon the first thought. It was a jealous one, but the subject of bairns had been uppermost in her mind the entire day, ever since her father had brought the possibility to her attention.

A startled look crossed his face, but he answered readily enough. “The wee lassies ye speak of are not mine, Kate. I’ve given them my name, but the king is their father, and ‘twas an arrangement that suited us both at the time.” He tilted her chin up with an elegant finger and then planted a reverent kiss on her forehead. “I’ve never bedded a lass afore ye, and I’ll never bed another.”

Kate blinked in surprise as a healthy blush dusted her cheeks. It took her several, long moments before she managed to tear her eyes away from his. “’Tis impossible to believe,” she said finally. “The tales of your exploits are well known and spoken of even in the alehouses.”

“Aye, well, wagging tongues aren’t necessarily the best sources for truth,” Cameron observed drolly. “’Twas ye who proved to be the thief, lass, for ye quite stole my heart.”

Tears threatened. “Dinna say such sweet words to me,” Kate whispered hoarsely. “I’ll have none of them!” She couldn’t let herself. It would only hurt more, and the pain was already unbearable.

He drew a long breath and then murmured, “The princess is expecting ye, Kate. Stay with her until I’ve sorted this matter. I’ll not have ye suffer for my sake. There are those here that would use ye cruelly to reach me. And I cannot bear that.”

The words jolted her back into the harsh reality she now lived. Stepping away, she curtsied and whispered, “Aye, my lord.”

She could tell that he regretted the words the moment he heard her response, but she suddenly wanted to be gone. This path could only end in heartache. She could not knowingly let her emotions guide her into folly. Ignoring his pleas to stay, she gathered her plaid close and fled the stables.

She would see Princess Anabella first. She could not yet face her father. Within three words, he would hear the pain in her voice and offer sympathy that would be her undoing.

She had no time for tears.

Frowning at herself furiously, she slapped her cheeks and ran through the cold rain to the royal apartments. The guards let her through and pointed the way. In moments, she stood dripping at the door of Princess Anabella’s chambers, cringing under the critical gaze of her ladies-in-waiting.

“Ach, ye canna see her highness in such a state!” one gasped in shock.

“How can the princess speak with a ragamuffin?” Another pursed her lips, her fine nostrils flaring.

“Then fetch her one of your gowns, Mary.” A dark-haired, sultry-eyed woman with wide, pouting lips and an arresting presence stepped through the others. “I am Lady Nicoletta di Franco, and I am most honored to make your acquaintance, Kate.”

Kate sank into a deep curtsey, but the woman caught her elbow.

“No, you shall not bow to any in this room,” Lady Nicoletta ordered in a husky tone and smiled, a secret sort of smile, as the other women gasped, affronted. Turning to them, she raised an amused brow. “Have a care! You are fools if you cannot see that soon you will bow before
her
. Bring her your finest gown, Mary, and give wings to your feet!”

“Then ye be the fool, Nicoletta!” The one called Mary rolled her eyes spitefully. “’Twas only this evening the earl himself swore to wed Lady Elsa. ‘Tis the talk on everyone’s lips!”

The words cut Kate’s heart like a knife, and she suddenly could not breathe.

“And you, Mary, can never see further than an inch afore your nose,” Lady Nicoletta responded coolly. “You would do well to understand the hearts of those you watch. Mark my words, the earl will make this one countess or turn monk the remainder of his days. Have I ever been wrong?”

Apparently, she hadn’t because the women of the chamber fell silent and Mary cleared her throat. “Shall I bring the gray gown with the pearls or do ye think the blue satin would suit her better?”

Kate was grateful the women had moved away. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Of course, she knew she could never wed the man, but had he already promised himself to Lady Elsa? She wanted to run away and weep, but Lady Nicoletta gave her no opportunity.

“Do not listen to rumors, Kate,” the woman advised softly. “And do not doubt your earl.”