The Daring Heart (The Highland Heather and Hearts Scottish Romance Series) (24 page)

They had nearly reached the bridge when a
few of the villagers gathered to pelt Thomas with spoiled vegetables and small stones.

“No more Cochrane Plack!” they cried.

“Then, if I must be hanged, hang me with a silken cord from off my tent, as a man of my station deserves!” Thomas Cochrane screamed in a thin, wavering voice that betrayed his fear. “I canna perish like a common thief!”

“Ye deserve no better than a rope of the roughest kind!” Douglas roared in response, the vein on his temple pulsing.

“Aye!” another man cried. “I’ve a rope of horse hair for the likes of ye!”

“
Ye canna hang me as a thief!” Thomas wailed. “I’m untouchable! Ye canna do this!”

“There’s not a man who is untouchable!” Douglas cried, and the men about him roared in agreement.

“Save me!” Thomas screamed a high-pitched sound. And then his thin pale eyebrows arched in disbelief as a man stepped forward to place a rough noose about his neck.

Julian watched grimly. It was hard to watch, but it was justice. The man had murdered more than one innocent man and had ravaged the land for his own gain. Aye, it was fair payment for Mar’s death alone. Finally, the king’s youngest brother would see his murder avenged.

It was then that Julian heard Cameron’s quiet words for Thomas. "For the pain ye caused mine, and the harm ye've done to my country, I'll not be saving your worthless head, Thomas Cochrane. I warned ye. Aye, ‘tis justice for Mar and for the people of Scotland.”

He didn’t mention Kate’s suffering, but Julian knew it was ever-present in his mind.

And then the rope drew tight, and Thomas Cochrane’s scream ended abruptly as he was thrown over the bridge.

There was a moment of silence

“May God have mercy on your soul,” Cameron murmured. “For I cannot.”

And then a mighty roar rippled through the gathered clans. But as the sounds grew louder, an even deeper madness seized them as they began to chant, “Hang them all! All of the king’s favorites! Hang them all!”

At that, Cameron and Julian exchanged looks of alarm.

There was no controlling the men surging to where the king’s tent had been newly erected.

Julian and Cameron shoved their way forward but could only see glimpses of the king as he stood behind a fine wooden table laden with silver platters of delicacies. Beside him hovered Roger, the English musician, and Torfifan,
the fencing-master, clutching bottles of wine and half-eaten tarts.

“What is the meaning … of this…” The king’s voice started strong but ended in a nervous sputter. Even he could not fail to read the vengeance in the eyes of the men confronting him.

“Why do the royal Stewarts believe so fully that they are immune to danger?” Douglas asked incredulously, pushing his way to the forefront.

The crowd burst into laughter, drowning any words that might have been said in response.

The vein on Douglas’ temple throbbed yet again as he shouted, “Have ye not seen who is even now swinging from Lauder Bridge?”

The king went deadly white.

And then the men surged forward, grabbing Roger and Torfifan and pulling them from the tent, all the while ignoring Cameron’s direct orders to stand down. As the crowd swept back towards Lauder Bridge, the king found Cameron and desperately clawed his sleeve.

“Stop them, Cameron! We command ye to stop them!” the king begged.

But there was no one who could stop the madness that had seized them.

“I command ye!” the king was shouting, and then he abruptly fell silent as his gaze riveted upon Thomas Cochrane’s body still twitching in its death throes on the rope suspended from the bridge.

It was a gruesome sight. And in minutes,
Roger and
Torfifan had
joined the mason.

But as several more of the king’s favorites were bound and gagged, and ropes were being fitted over their necks, Cameron once again raised his voice, commanding the men to stop.

But still, his call went unheeded.

“Douglas is caught in a bloodlust,” Cameron said through thinned lips as he desperately pushed through the crowd in an attempt to reach the red-headed earl. “’Tis not the way it should be done! This madness must stop!”

Shoving the man in front of him aside, Julian unsheathed his dirk, and taking careful aim, launched it towards the red-headed earl.

As it grazed the man’s cheek, he
whirled angrily in their direction.

“There will be no more killing this day!” Cameron’s strong voice thundered.

And then Ewan appeared with Ruan MacLeod at his side, and giving a great cry, they raised their swords to beat them against their shields. And as every highlander followed suit, the rhythmic sound of metal clashing upon metal caught the attention of all, until finally it was the only sound that could be heard.

Then Ewan raised his arm, and the beating stopped.

Thanking him with a gracious nod, Cameron’s powerful voice rang out in the ensuing silence. “What great folly is this? Are we no better than the English? The time for killing cowards is done! Now is the time to defend our country. Make ready! We ride to Edinburgh at once!”

By his side, the king gasped and repeated, “Ride to Edinburgh? We’ve given no such orders!”

But Cameron’s face was impassive. Turning to his cousin, he replied, “Ye no longer have the right to give orders, James.”

The king blanched and then clutched his heart. "It was prophesied that the Lion of Scotland would be devoured by its own whelps!” he whispered through white lips. "Ye haven’t the right to subvert the divine right of kingship given by God himself! Ye didn't make us King!"

There was a pregnant pause. One in which every eye turned to Cameron as a slow, scathing smile formed on his lips.

"Aye, I didn’t make ye king, James!” he agreed in a lethal tone. “But I’ve kept ye king. Never forget that! For now, ye’ll be my prisoner, and we ride for Edinburgh afore ye and Albany drown our fair land in rivers of blood!”

Julian glanced up in surprise and voiced the question in everyone’s mind. “But the English?”

“Aye, I dinna fear the English. Gloucester dinna bring the resources to besiege the castle,”
Cameron stated calmly. “And after hearing the doings of this night, even Gloucester himself will believe that we want Albany as king. They’ll come running to Edinburgh with haste to put him on the throne. ‘Tis a far better trap then the one that I’d planned.”

“But we outnumber them now, aye?” Douglas pointed out. “Let’s take the fight to them and kill them all!”

Both Julian and Cameron looked upon him with raised brows.

It took the earl a moment to recall the reason for their response. “Ach, what I’ve done, I’ve only done for Scotland!” he swore, pounding his fist in his hand. “And now that Cochrane and his kind are dead and the king in our hand, I belong here, lad, ye know it!”

Cameron eyed him with disdain. “Then bring Albany to Edinburgh and bring him right quickly!” A
nd then raising his hand, he issued a crisp order, “Bind the king. He’ll walk to the village as penance for the neglect of his own country.”

The king balked.

But the gathered clans appeared pleased by this, and as Douglas grabbed a length of rope to tie the king’s hands, they roared in approval.

With the look of a hunted animal, the king fell into step behind them as they lead him into the darkness, through the dale and into the village of Channelkirk.

And as the villagers carrying torches lined the road to watch the bound king stumble past, a mule with a worn leather saddle was brought to carry him back to Edinburgh.

No one spoke as the king slowly mounted.

Chapter Thirteen – Lady Gray

Julian yawned and stretched, glad to be back in his chamber in Edinburgh Castle once again. With the king now a prisoner, the nobles were in an uproar. Not because they wished to free James. Nay, quite the opposite. Most were seeking his head on a pike.

Aye, Cameron had his hands full. ‘Twould be a miracle if he avoided a war between the angered clans calling for blood.

Yawning again, he wandered to the window.

‘Twas time to hunt down the MacLeans for any tidings of Liselle’s whereabouts. He’d spent far too much time worrying about the wee devil. And even though his mind calmly informed him that she was a highly skilled and trained assassin, his heart refused to listen.

A clatter of hooves sounded outside, breaking into his thoughts. Cocking a brow, he leaned out the window to see a messenger clad in the livery of the House of York, surrounded by Scottish royal guards.

Watching as the man was led away towards the royal apartments, Julian threw on his plaid and left his chamber.

Unable to find Ewan or his men for news of Liselle, he headed across the inner cobblestoned courtyard towards Cameron’s section of the royal apartments to sate his curiosity over the content of the Yorkist message.

The afternoon sun was overly warm, and the shutters of the windows along the passageway were thrown open wide to catch any hint of a cool breeze. Undoing a button of his collar, he ran up the steps two at a time and knocked with a quick rap on Cameron’s door.

It opened almost immediately.

A bright-eyed lassie with amber ringlets and apple cheeks peered up at him. “Come in, my lord!” the child invited with a curtsey.

Julian hesitated as the squealing sound of more children met his ears. He winced and moved back. Opening his mouth, he prepared to excuse himself, but alas, he was too late.

“Julian!” Kate’s cheerful voice ensnared him.

Coercing his grimace into a smile, Julian took a deep breath and stepped inside.

The chamber was filled with females, big and small. Most of them sat on cushioned chairs with sharp embroidery needles in one hand and fine bits of silk in the other.

It was most certainly not a place he desired to be.

But Kate gave him no opportunity to escape. She descended upon him at once, grabbing his hand and pulling him even deeper into the depths of the femininity surrounding him.

“Cameron will be here any moment,” she assured, wrinkling her nose into a smile. “Have a wee oatcake or a nip of wine to refresh yourself whilst ye wait, Julian!”

With that, she pushed him towards a long table holding an array of large silver bowls filled with pears, almonds, and oat cakes, alongside several bottles of fine Rhennish wine.

Absently selecting a pear, he took a large bite and turned to lean against the table, his mind set to identify the fastest route of escape. But the women were watching him. There was much fluttering of the lashes, many doe-eyed smiles, and plenty tilting of the heads as they strove to catch his attention. But he wasn’t interested.

Taking another bite from his pear, he’d just made up his mind to leave hastily by the side door when a familiar alto voice spoke by his elbow.

“How delightful to see you again, my lord!” Liselle’s husky voice said.

Julian choked.

Gasping for air, he gaped at Liselle in surprise, even as relief overwhelmed him to find her standing safely by his side.

Standing on her tiptoes, she pounded him helpfully upon the back.

And though he struggled to breathe, he couldn’t stop his gaze from roving over her. Never was there a more bonny lass! Clad in a silver gown embroidered with stars that shimmered like opals, her hair was braided and caught to the nape of her neck by a bejeweled net, dotted with silver beads.

She stood there, watching him. And as he finally caught a long, dragging breath, the corner of her lip lifted in a secretive smile.

“Ach, ye wee devil!” he half-choked, clearing his throat even as his cheeks creased into a wide grin.

Her presence at the Scottish court was not a good thing, so why couldn’t he stop smiling?
Mayhap it was her sultry looks, or her low, seductive voice. Or her lips.

Thinking of her kiss, he gave a low chuckle. “Aye, but ye are a wickedly sinful lass. But clearly, joining forces with wickedness has its place now and then.”

Her lashes dipped in amusement, and then she lifted her hand and in it was a goblet of wine. With a challenging gleam in her eye, she said, “Pray take some refreshment, my lord.”

He snorted.

But then she licked her bottom lip, and he was undone as a hot wave of desire washed over him. Had she just suggested another type of refreshment, or had he shaped her words to fit his own longing?

Aye, he was tempted to taste the wee imp’s lips then and there, even though he knew he should focus on such matters as discovering just how many weapons she had upon her and for whom they were destined. But, ‘twas fair impossible to think of anything more than the soft, seductive pull of her lips!

Plucking the wine glass from her hand, he set it down upon the table and raked her with a deliberate, smoldering gaze. And then unable to resist, he rumbled suggestively, “Ere the next time I leave ye, mayhap I should strip ye first, Lady Gray, to see what ye might be hiding, aye?”

Shocked gasps greeted his scandalous words. He wasn’t all that surprised. After all, he’d just spoken of stripping the lass naked, but then it was his turn to be shocked as the most unexpected and dreadful response circled through the chamber.

“Lady
Gray?”

“Lord Julian has
wed!
”

Julian’s eyes widened in alarm as every head turned upon him.

And then he glanced down at Liselle. She was staring at him with an expression in her eyes that strangely demotivated him to correct the misunderstanding.

And then
her low, throaty voice broke the silence.

“You have been sorely missed, my lord,” she said, selecting an almond cake and daintily nibbling at the edge. “The pain of parting your company was sharper than the edge of a finely honed blade.”

Julian’s eyes lit with humor at the reference to her escape. Aye, she was a sharp-witted minx. “’Twas your choice to leave that night, Lady Gray,” he replied with a half growl. “But ‘twas not the choice of my own gray mare!”