The Daring Heart (The Highland Heather and Hearts Scottish Romance Series) (4 page)

“Julian! ‘Tis been far too long!”

Rising to his feet, Julian turned to see Cameron’s wife, Kate, the Countess of Lennox entering the chamber, balancing a plump babe on her hip. The diminutive countess glowed. Her cheeks were rosy and her brown eyes sparkled with laughter.

As she drew closer, Julian could see the smooth curve of motherhood announcing she was expecting her third child. Bending low over her hand, he said with a humorous glint in his gray eyes, "My most beloved Countess of Lennox, 'tis your favorite onion-eyed varlet come to greet ye!"

"Will ye never forget my foolish words, my lord?" Kate laughed, her nose wrinkling in delight. "Ye know well that I thought ye a thief when I called ye that, nigh on three years ago!"

Pressing her hand dramatically against his heart, Julian grinned. "I shall never forget, my lady. I half fell in love with ye myself that night.”

“Ye’ve yet to know what love truly is, ye foolish lad!” Kate laughed again, peering up at her husband with a sly twinkle in her eyes. “But, well do I remember that night.”

As Cameron sent his wife a smoldering look, Julian glanced away.

In some ways, he couldn’t understand Cameron anymore. And as the little lassies ran about in circles, shouting with excitement, Julian winced outright.

Ach, he didn't have anything directly against bairns, but he did privately view them as a wee bit of a nuisance. Cameron had shared that opinion in the past, but it was quite obvious the man had gone a bit daft since meeting Kate. By all appearances, he not only didn't seem to mind the lassies hanging off his arms, he actually looked as if he enjoyed it.

Moving to tower over his wife, Cameron captured her hand in his long fingers and gave it a soft kiss. “I'll join ye soon, my sweeting."

“Then I’ll see that your chamber is readied, Julian,” Kate said, and ordering the chattering children to her side, bustled them out the door.

Once they had gone, Julian shook his head with a droll laugh. "Ach, Cameron, 'tis no wonder affairs of state have deteriorated of late," he observed wryly. "Another bairn? ‘Tis three in as many years as ye’ve been wed! If ye spent half as much time in court as ye do with your wee wife in bed, James would be sitting on the throne of not only Scotland but of England and France by now.”

Cameron tapped his fingers on the table, a touch amused. And then his face grew serious.

“Aye.” Julian sighed, reading his expression. “But ye won’t like what I’ve come to say.”

And he didn’t.

It didn’t take long for Julian to relate Albany’s latest treachery.

“Then England prepares for war and so must we,” Cameron said softly when Julian had finished. “I’ll send word to the clans to gather their men.”

“And I shall ride to Fotheringhay with the dawn,” Julian offered. “We must discover who is supporting his cause.”

“Aye.” Cameron nodded grimly.

A silence fell for a time, a silence Julian finally broke. “And how is the king? I
s Thomas Cochrane still the cat who manipulates the royal mouse? Or does James caress Hommil the Tailor and Torfifan the Fencing-Master once again?" Both lowborn men had been royal favorites in the past, before Thomas Cochrane had arrived.

Cameron shot Julian a dark glance.

Thomas Cochrane was a sore subject with the earl; he had nearly lost Kate over the man's schemes, which had seen the king’s loyal brother, Mar, accused of witchcraft and then murdered.

“Aye, ‘tis still Thomas alone who receives the fond kisses and favors of the king, and he is well-guarded,” Cameron finally answered with a sardonic twist of his lip. “My time for vengeance hasna yet come, Julian. I must wait still.”

“Mayhap not long,” Julian said with a yawn. Rising to his feet, he stretched before adding, “He's a rash, overbold fellow. He might well have made a fatal error with this unsavory black money plot.”

"Aye, the anger amongst the people has grown uncommonly strong, but dinna underestimate him,” Cameron warned softly. “Though I dare say justice will prevail in the end, Julian.”

“Aye, but it oft needs a helping hand,” he replied with a hollow laugh. “Very well then, I’ll be off to England with the sun.”

“Have a care, lad,” Cameron cautioned, escorting him to the door. “These are dangerous times.
Have a care.”

Chapter Three – The Hand of Fate

Liselle leaned out of the second-story cottage window, soaking in the warmth of the sun as the soft summer winds caressed her face.

There was more to the handsome young Lord Julian Gray than met the eye.

Of that, she was certain.

His charm, combined with an air of mystique and a smile of pure decadence, made him fascinatingly irresistible. And his shrewd, gray eyes reminded her of a hawk in search of prey
—
far from the drunken fool that Nicoletta claimed him to be. Her sister had sworn to her that he was a simpleton and a scandalous lord, intent only on securing his own pleasure.

Liselle smiled a secret smile. She might have agreed with Nicoletta if she hadn’t accidentally stumbled upon him one evening perched on the rooftop above the Scottish prince’s window. He crouched there, listening to the man’s pompous ranting for a time, before dropping lightly to the ground and disappearing into the darkness.

Intrigued, Liselle had begun to follow Julian, much to Nicoletta’s annoyance and Orazio’s concern.

Santo
Ciélo!
Liselle rolled her eyes. They trusted her so little!

Their response to her initiative had been to accuse her of
falling in love
and so they’d promptly assigned her cousin, Pascal, to watch and dictate her every move since.

Liselle had retaliated by evading her vigilant cousin, and it hadn’t been easy. Once free, she had slipped into Julian’s chamber at the inn, her goal being to find proof that the man was more than Nicoletta claimed.

Indeed! He could well be a potential adversary and mayhap someone to watch closely in Scotland!

Pure instinct and training had helped her to narrowly avoid the snare set by his window. Thus forewarned, she had tiptoed through his chamber with extreme caution.

And then she had seen him sleeping in his bed.

Her heart had pulsed in excitement as she’d crept closer to stare down at him in admiration. And she’d stared for far longer than was prudent, but only because his chest had been bare, exposing firm muscles in such a way that left her deliciously breathless. But then she had spied a bundle of parchment resting upon his saddlebag nearby. Reminded of her purpose, she’d just taken a step towards it when Nicoletta’s wail had drifted up from below.

Dedìa!
Her sister could be overbearing at times! And
f
or sure, it must have been that fool, that
bábio
Pascal, who’d betrayed her whereabouts.

As Nicoletta’s shrieking grew closer, accompanied by the pounding of feet up the stairs, Liselle had succumbed to the temptation of annoying her sister just a tiny bit more. In one fluid movement, she had slipped out of her gown and into the bed of the sleeping Lord Julian Gray.

But she hadn’t expected Orazio to be the one to burst through the door.

Nor had she expected Julian to be so warm, and even more handsome up close.

She smiled, reliving again the moment he’d discovered her next to him.

“Liselle!”

Liselle jumped, startled out of her pleasant memory.

Nicoletta’s voice was far too close. It was too late to escape. Turning, she spied her older sister charging up the steps, her red-velvet skirts firmly clutched in both hands.

“Do not even
think
of running from me!” Nicoletta warned, punctuating each word with an angry huff. “Lord Gray? Why Lord Gray? And just
what
have you done with him?”

“Òsti,
” Liselle scowled, tossing her hands up in the air. “I am not a child, Nicoletta!”

Nicoletta arrived out of breath, but still managed a snort of disgust. “
Ah sì,
and toying with a shameful buffoon proves that?”

Liselle lifted her chin, letting her hazel eyes flash, but remained silent. Crossing Nicoletta was always a dangerous proposition.

“Lord Gray is of the most scandalous ilk, Liselle!” Nicoletta continued passionately, wiping her brow and fanning her cheeks. “And you know my plans for him! He is the perfect dupe, and if the need were to arise, I could lay the blame of any action I must take at his feet! I just pray your foolish prank hasn’t ruined my designs, and that you haven’t ruined yourself as well!”

Liselle’s scowl faded slightly. Her sister’s complexion was sallow and her forehead beaded with sweat. “You look unwell, Nicoletta,” she observed with concern. “What ails you?”

“Àu!
Do not think to distract me!” Nicoletta replied sharply and then repeated for emphasis, “
Lord Gray is of the most scandalous ilk!
He is naught but a gambling drunkard—
un farabùto
!”

But Liselle was not so sure. Recalling the wide variety of snares and weapons the man had hidden in his chamber and bed, she knew there was more to him than just wagering, wine, and women.

She hesitated, smoothing invisible wrinkles in her skirts as she weighed the choices before her.

Nicoletta was clearly feeling indisposed. And Liselle knew right well that her older sister sought only to protect her. The bond of sisterly love was fiercely strong between them. It would be kinder to apologize, make peace, and let her rest rather than engage in a conversation that would likely end with Orazio negotiating yet another truce between them.

“Your hot-blooded nature will be your downfall!” Nicoletta was still speaking in furiously short, clipped tones. “And your lack of judgment is astounding! You are behaving quite rashly, and I’m having Orazio send you
straight
home!”

The single word of
home
wrested the choice of restraint from Liselle’s hands. All at once her anger ignited.
Home?
How dare they even
consider
sending her home! She was more than ready to practice the family craft. In fact, she was long past due for her first real assignment.

“You
are the rash one, Nicoletta!” The words burst vehemently forth from Liselle’s lips. “And your plan is flawed if you seek to use Lord Gray as any sort of dupe! He is
not
what you think. He would not stand by to take the blame for your—“

“Esumìmi! God help me!
” Nicoletta’s beautiful eyes blazed as she lifted an imploring hand to the heavens. “How could you fall for him so swiftly? You are blinded by foolish fancy! I had thought you wiser than this! Did all of those years of learning teach you
nothing
—”

“You
are the blind one!” Liselle interrupted heatedly. “Your distaste colors your reasoning! You see only the man he wishes you to see!”

“Can you even
hear
yourself speak?!” Nicoletta bristled in response. “Can you see what harm you have done? He was
perfèto! Perfèto
, I tell you! No one at court doubts his flawed, impetuous nature. It would have been easy to implicate him for anything I had to do.”

Liselle threw her hands up in exasperation once again and retorted, “Not so! He would have found a way to turn the blame back on to you, and you would have paid the heavy price. That is why I sought to discover his secret! I’ve been watching him—”

Placing both hands on her hips, Nicoletta cut her short with a snort of disdain and pinned her with a withering glance. “At least in that you speak the truth! Now that I think on it, you have done little more than watch him on every occasion. And his
secret
is nothing more than constant practice, Liselle, practice at bedding every maid he sees!”

“Then, is this jealousy?” Liselle’s eyes narrowed speculatively. “You seem to know so much about his character! Are you a jilted lover or—”

Nicoletta rewarded her with a sharp slap across the face. “That you would say that proves you are not thinking—”

“Basta!
Enough, Nicoletta!” Orazio’s deep baritone startled them both.

Liselle stepped back, cupping her palm over her stinging cheek, and then both sisters turned on him at once.

“She lacks prudence, Orazio! And—” Nicoletta began.

“And
she
lacks skill!” Liselle inserted quickly. “My talents overshadow hers by far! You know this to be true!”

“And you
both
lack discretion! I could hear you from the streets!” Orazio laughed, stepping in between them and shaking his head as he peered down at his sisters in amusement. But then observing Nicoletta, his astute brown eyes grew serious all at once. “You look ill, Nicoletta. What is it?”

“Santa pazienza
!” Nicoletta tiredly waved her hand at her younger sister. “This one will soon send me to my grave.”

Liselle rolled her eyes at the all too familiar words. “You are not
mama
, Nicoletta.”

“But now I understand her so well,” Nicoletta sighed heavily. “I see why she says that of you so often.” And then her knees suddenly buckled, and she would have fallen had not Orazio caught her by the shoulders.

“Rest,” he ordered, his distinguished features suffused with concern. “I will … handle Liselle.”

Liselle tensed. It never ended well for her whenever they decided she needed to be
handled
.

“Yes. I could rest,” Nicoletta whispered, closing her eyes for several long moments before lifting her dark lashes to glower at Orazio. “You will keep your word?”

At Orazio’s barely imperceptible nod of reply, Liselle’s heart sank further. It was true. They were sending her back to Venice.

“Very well then,” her older sister heaved a deep sigh. And then without another word or a backward glance, she left the room.

Liselle waited until Nicoletta was out of earshot before turning to Orazio and demanding in outright alarm, “What ails her? Is she ill?”

Nothing—even the threat of being sent home—was more important than her sister’s health and well-being.

Her brother arched a dark brow. “Have you ever known anything to daunt her,
sorèla cara
?”