The Bedeviled Heart (The Highland Heather and Hearts Scottish Romance Series) (22 page)

Kate frowned. It made little difference. Cameron could never be hers.

Leaning forward, Lady Nicoletta placed a finger on Kate’s lips. “You have much to learn. Silence will be your friend until you understand the game. Be silent and watch.”

Perplexed, Kate sealed her lips and allowed the women to dry her hair and clothe her in a fine gray gown with pearls sewn in the bodice. As Lady Nicoletta brushed and arranged her hair, she began to dispense advice in a firm, imperious tone. “In court, there are rumors and truth. The truth is seldom heard. You must watch for it in fleeting looks and false laughter, in who speaks to whom—”

“And who beds whom!” Someone giggled.

“Ach,
she
knows that!” another hissed spitefully.

Kate felt her cheeks redden with shame.

“And you must never betray what you feel.” Lady Nicoletta searched her face with a raised brow.

Kate sighed and answered with heartfelt sincerity, “I’ll never be a creature of the court, my lady. I am a lowly fisherman’s daughter, and ‘tis far too late for me to learn such wily ways.”

Several of the ladies murmured soft sounds of sympathy, and even Mary suddenly fell silent.

With a knowing smile, Lady Nicoletta leaned close and whispered in her ear, “Some are born with the skill. Already, you have begun to melt their icy hearts. I pray you will remember me, my lady, for I may one day beseech a favor from you.”

Kate frowned in confusion.

“What secrets are ye sharing?” someone complained as Lady Nicoletta slipped her arm around Kate’s waist, and guiding her to the adjoining chamber, announced her to the princess.

Princess Anabella sat at the table, poring over a manuscript with her small dog upon her lap. She glanced up as Kate entered and absently began fingering the diamond brooch on the bodice of her jeweled satin gown. Her dangling gold earrings glittered in the candlelight.

“Your highness.” Kate sank so low that she lost her balance and slipped to her knees.

The princess burst into a startled laugh.

With her ears flaming red, Kate struggled to her feet. “Forgive me, your highness,” she said through dry lips, wanting nothing more than to cry. “I truly belong in the kitchens and not in your presence bedecked in such finery.”

Rising to her feet, the princess advanced, still holding her dog. “Ach, ye foolish lass.” The austere woman’s voice sounded mildly annoyed. “Ye have placed my beloved kinsman in the greatest danger. How could ye not know?”

“I thought he was a thief, your highness!” Kate whispered in her defense.

“A thief?” The princess paused mid-step. Frowning a moment, she scowled. “I have asked how ye failed in knowing your outburst would only place him in great danger! Why do ye speak of a thief?”

Kate swallowed, wishing herself anywhere but under the woman’s critical eye.

“Speak!” The woman ordered sharply.

In halting words with eyes averted, Kate recounted her first meeting and the resulting misunderstanding of Cameron’s identity. When she was finished, she cast a side length glance to discover, to her utter astonishment, that the woman’s lips held the hint of a smile.

“‘Tis an entertaining tale,” the gruff woman admitted, returning to her chair to lean back in it comfortably. “But ye are a fool if ye think to change a man’s heart.”

“Aye, your highness,” Kate agreed, keeping her gaze focused on the floor.

“And what would ye say, if I were to tell ye that Cameron will wed Lady Elsa by midsummer?” The princess looked directly at her.

Kate swallowed, striving to choose her words carefully. “I … would wish him well, your highness,” she finally said. Her heart felt heavy, and she closed her eyes tightly, refusing to shed tears.

“Ach!” The princess expelled an exasperated breath. “I am not as hard-hearted as I may seem, lass. I would ye could share your lives, for I can see ye truly love the man, but only tales have happy endings. A man of his position must wed as politics require. There is little room for love. Such is the ugliness of life.”

“Aye, your highness,” Kate whispered. “I willna stand in his way. I was on my way to Edinburgh when I received your message.” She clenched her hands to give herself strength. She absolutely would not weep and especially not in front of this woman.

“I am prepared to take ye into my household, to protect my kinsman,” Princess Anabella stated briskly. “But ye’ll see naught of him from this time forth. His time of dallying with ye is over. Others could use ye against him, and ‘tis too dangerous for us all should that happen. Do ye understand?”

Her words reminded Kate at once of Thomas’ warning. It seemed so long ago. Ach, but the man hadn’t been drunk. He’d sent a warning to Cameron and she had blithely tossed it away. She had been naïve! She had no business being involved in court affairs.

“What is it?” the princess asked, watching her face.

“I understand, your highness.” Kate licked her dry lips. She could never place Cameron in danger. She still loved him. She always would. “I’ll not bring harm upon him, I swear it.”

The princess nodded firmly, apparently pleased with her answer. “Each of the ladies who serve me comes from the finest of families in Scotland, France, and Italy, and each possesses talents that I find useful. Are ye skilled with the needle?”

She had no skill that a princess would find desirable, and by the sharp glint in the woman’s eye, it was obvious the princess knew it as well.

Were court games always so cruel, so humiliating?

With a twinge of anger, she curtsied again and replied honestly, “I fear I have no talent to offer ye, your highness. I am a fisherman’s daughter who has only her father left in this world, and I live to enjoy what beauty I may each day for I have seen it taken away in the blink of an eye.”

Princess Anabella’s gaze hardened. “’Tis a folly of the young, to believe there is beauty in the day. When ye have lost enough, ye’ll see there is no more beauty to be had.”

“Then I will remember what I have encountered thus far, your highness.” Kate murmured, thinking of the days she had spent sailing on the lochs with her sister, the laughter she had shared with her mother, and the glorious night with Cameron. Aye, she would live in memories, if she must.

“’
Tis your pure heart that is your talent, child.” Princess Anabella’s voice cut through her thoughts. “But few hearts are strong enough to resist power and greed. I shall be most curious to watch how ye fare at court.”

Unsure of the expected response, Kate curtsied again.

“Nicoletta!” The princess called, waving a dismissive hand. “Take her away.”

After showing her where she was to sleep and giving her a chest, several fine gowns, and a silver-handled brush, Lady Nicoletta permitted her to slip away to visit her father. But by the time Kate finally found him, he was snoring soundly in a soft, feather bed.

Kate stood quietly by his side, looking down upon him.

Clad in fine clothing and sleeping peacefully, her father already looked younger. Several flasks of water from St. Fillans stood on a nearby table, along with the remains of a roasted chicken and a goblet of wine. The chamber was small but finely furnished with even a rug and a silver candlestick.

A wave of emotion rose to engulf her. Her father looked so comfortable. She could never provide for him so. And then her anger evaporated. If being Cameron’s man afforded him the opportunity to be well, then how could she deny him the chance?

Glancing around the room, she knew she was viewing Cameron’s handiwork, and the tears she had refused to shed slid freely down her cheeks.

Why had she found Cameron only to lose him?

Why was fate so cruel?

Slowly, she backed out of the chamber and softly closed the door. Resting her head upon the door a moment, she wiped the tears from her cheeks and took a deep breath.

Returning to Princess Anabella’s chambers, she ignored her pallet spread next to the sleeping Lady Nicoletta and instead spent a sleepless night, sitting at the window and staring out into the darkness.

The princess did not call for her the following morning but instead set out for the daily feast with her dog and two other ladies in tow, leaving the remaining ladies-in-waiting to stay in her chambers.

Time crawled.

Kate moved about restlessly, listening to the women gossip as one played the lute, and the others labored over their needlework.

Kate suppressed a sigh.

This was hardly an existence.

Again, she felt like a caged canary, but she was less inclined to grumble this time, comforting herself with the fact that by remaining thus, she was helping to keep Cameron safe.

She wandered to the window, at first trying to resist all thoughts of the man, but it was nigh impossible. At last, she succumbed to the temptation and let herself relive their wondrously passionate night, only occasionally fretting over the possibility of a bairn.

A sudden knock sent them all in a flurry.

Nicoletta opened the door and stepped back as Thomas Cochrane strutted importantly into the chamber.

His eyes went straight to Kate.

With a falsely benevolent smile, he held out a small, silver dish. “I’ve come to welcome ye, Kate, and to gift ye with the finest honeyed-pears from the king’s own table.”

A soft cloud of appreciative “ahs!” circled through the gathered ladies. One of them squealed outright in delight.

Smoothing his trimmed, sleek beard, he extended his hand in invitation. “Walk with me a moment, will ye, Kate?”

Kate hesitated but knew she had little choice. She’d learned enough to know the man was the king’s favorite, though she failed to understand what the king saw in him. He was hardly appealing.

Ach, she was cornered, with no choice but to keep the man’s company.

“Allow me to fetch a mantle,” Lady Nicoletta inserted skillfully, drawing Kate to the side to throw a soft, velvet mantle over her shoulders and to murmur a warning. “Step carefully, Kate. There is danger here.”

She hadn’t needed to be told, but Kate nodded her thanks just the same.

Shuddering at his touch, she allowed Thomas to guide her from the royal apartments, out into the open air and down the winding stair to the king’s gardens below.

At the foot of the gravel pathway, she hesitated.

“There is no place denied me, Kate,” Thomas boasted, noting her reluctance. “The king denies me naught. In his eyes, we are equal.”

Kate blinked at his arrogance.

He extended his arm, but she pretended not to notice and stepped onto the path as the wind rippled through the fresh green grass and rustled the tender leaves of the trees lining the garden’s edge.

“We share much, Kate, and could be of great service to each other.” Thomas’ nasal voice took on an almost wheedling tone as he fell into step beside her.

So the man sought to beguile her? She resisted the temptation to laugh in his face, and instead forced her lips to flatter. “I fear ye are mistaken, my lord. I share little with a man of your esteemed position.”

“We both are baseborn.” He shrugged her comment aside. “And both hold the heart of a Stewart in the palm of our hands.”

Ach, but he sought to endanger Cameron! She would be no party to it. Lifting her chin, she replied in what she prayed was a disinterested voice, “Perhaps ye do, my lord, but my time is already done. His lordship already looks to others and will not see me. Surely, ye have heard of Lady Elsa?” She selfishly prayed the rumors were false, but either case suited her purposes if it insured Cameron’s safety.

Thomas eyed her in disbelief. He opened his mouth to speak when a light-hearted laugh startled them both.

Lord Julian Gray strolled their way, impeccably clad in the white shirt and plaid that he seemed to favor.

“Ach, my wee Kate.” He grinned, his gray eyes slowly raking her from head to toe. “’Tis your favorite onion-eyed varlet come begging for more of your pleasures.”

Before she could respond, he caught his strong arm about her waist, crushing her close and kissed her hungrily.

The kiss lacked passion.

His fingers dug into the small of her back in warning, but the sounds he made in his throat would have convinced any who watched that the throes of passion had all but consumed him.

Idly, she wondered where the man had gained such consummate skill in deception.