The Magnificent Rogue (4 page)

“She instigated a plot to take my life,” she said quickly.

“But with Mary of Scotland dead and James suddenly removed as well, it would throw Scotland in turmoil. What a perfect opportunity for you to march across the border and restore order.” He added, “And gather Scotland up like a goose for the cooking.”

He
was
clever. If the circumstances had been the same fifteen years ago, she might have decided to do just as he supposed. “If that was what I wished to do. It is not. Though she has been a constant threat to me,
I have avoided executing Mary for years.” She cracked her fist down on the table. “I have
no
wish to see her die. She is a queen, and the lives of royalty should be sacrosanct. All monarchs walk a thin line between life and death. If I take her life, who is to say that tomorrow another king won’t deem I should also die? To put her to death is to put myself in danger.”

“Then you will disregard the order of execution drawn up by Parliament?”

She did not answer directly. “I do not wish to see her die.” She lifted her gaze to his face. “And if I wished to kill James, it would be in battle, not by assassination. So you are wrong on both counts. But you are correct that I do intend to use you for my own purpose.”

“And that purpose?”

“I intend to make a bridegroom of you.”

He stared at her, stunned, before he threw back his head and laughed uproariously. “Good God, are you proposing to me? The Virgin Queen who has refused half the royalty in Europe?” He swept her a low bow. “I accept. And when shall we wed, Your Majesty?”

“You know I did not mean myself,” she said, annoyed. “Your impudence is beyond belief.”

He clutched his breast. “Stabbed to the heart. And just when I thought happiness was to be mine.”

Another side of him was suddenly before her. For an instant his grimness had vanished, and his face was alight with wicked mischief. She struggled to suppress a smile. “Percy is right … you are a rogue. Since you’re so eager to wed, you will have no objection if I choose the bride.”

“I did not say that. Alas, I fear it’s you or no one for me.”

Her smile vanished. “And I fear, if you do not do as I tell you, that you will be without a henchman.”

The coldness returned to his expression at the threat. “I do not wed at England’s command.”

“Nor at Scotland’s, evidently. James has sent you three candidates for your inspection.”

“Because he wants a claim on Craighdhu and sees no other way to get it. He finds our trade routes with Ireland appealing.” He smiled crookedly. “As I’m sure you do also, Your Majesty.”

“I don’t care a whit for your Irish trade routes.”

He lifted a skeptical brow. “Then why are you trying to furnish me with a bride from your court?”

“She is not from my court. The girl lives in the Midlands. She is Mistress Kathryn Anne Kentyre. The child has reached her sixteenth year and is in good health, has been well schooled, and is not unattractive. She has no title, and, though of gentle birth, is not legitimate. You must take her away at once and never bring her back to England.” She went on briskly. “Naturally, there will be no dowry. You’re lucky to escape with your head still intact. The wedding will take place at once, and you will—”

“Where in the Midlands?” His gaze was fixed on her face, and she could almost see the wheels of thought turning.

“Sheffield,” she said reluctantly.

“One of Shrewsbury’s lands.” He was silent as he stared at her. She could almost see the moment when he made the connection. He gave a low whistle. “By God, it’s true.”

“I fear I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“She
did
have a child.”

She gazed at him without speaking.

“I may be a poor ignorant Scot, but even I’ve heard about Bess Shrewsbury’s charges.” He sat down on the cot and leaned back against the stone wall. “I assure you, everyone in Scotland found the scandal very interesting.”

“I did not give you permission to sit in my presence.”

He ignored the sharp injunction, his gaze searching
her face for any change of expression. “She’s Mary’s daughter?”

“Everyone knows that Mary has only one child, and he sits on the throne of Scotland.”

“Not according to Bess Shrewsbury. She claims her husband and Mary enjoyed the closeness of Mary’s captivity to the utmost. What was her story? That Mary bore him two children while he was holding the queen captive for you on his estate all those years?”

“Bess Shrewsbury is an ambitious, spiteful woman. I reprimanded her for spreading such rumors.”

“And neatly silenced her.”

“The earl of Shrewsbury gave himself selflessly to the task of keeping Mary comfortably imprisoned. He’s a loyal servant of the crown.”

“And Mary was a beautiful young woman and known to be selfish and headstrong … a lonely, passionate woman held captive away from the world. It’s only reasonable she would reach out to the only man within her reach. Was there just the daughter and not another issue?”

“I told you, Bess Shrewsbury was a liar.”

“So there was only one.…” His tone was musing. “But that was more than enough. You couldn’t let it be known, could you? There was already too much outcry about you keeping Mary prisoner. Since half of Scotland already looked upon Mary as a harlot, I’m sure you had no trouble convincing her to give up the child. But if the truth had come out, there was always the chance she might have claimed the earl had raped her, and that would have given her supporters in the north of England cause to join with France or Spain to overthrow you.”

“This is all supposition.”

He leaned forward. “Then let’s carry the supposition a little further. Suppose this child
is
Mary’s daughter. Suppose she
is
the illegitimate daughter of the queen of Scotland.”

“Mary is no longer queen. She abdicated in favor of her son.”

“But James has never been popular with the people. There are many nobles who would be pleased to find another Stuart to rally around. That wouldn’t please you, would it?”

God’s blood, he had a facile mind. She had known he would probably reach this conclusion, but not with such quickness. “Supposition again. You’re very good at it. However, the child is only sixteen, hardly a threat.”

“You were not a good deal older when you ascended to the throne, and they called you a young lioness.”

A rush of fierce satisfaction surged through her. “Yes, by Judas, they had to reckon with me. I sank my teeth into them and made them know a woman could—” She shrugged. “But I was extraordinary. Even if this is Mary’s daughter …” She trailed off, then added, “And I don’t say that she is. Do you think I’d fear a child unschooled in court intrigue?”

“Yet you fear something, or I would not be here.”

“I fear nothing.” He continued to stare skeptically at her, and finally she said, “
If
the child is who you say she is, she could be used as a pawn. It would be wise to remove her from English soil.”

“So you send her to Scotland where James would be eager to dispose of any claimant to the throne and rid you of the task.”

“No!” She tried to temper the harshness of her voice. “I send her to Craighdhu. You will wed her and take her to your island and keep her there.”

“Oh, I will?”

“There are already too many rumors in the air concerning the child. I’ve tried to keep her isolated, but if someone should discover—No, she must be taken away as soon as possible.”

“And why by me?”

“Because you’re the most suitable. Do you think I
chose you blindly? I’ve searched over three years for a solution to this problem. You’re not perfect, but you’ll have to do. You hate the Spanish, so you’ll not go running to Philip with the girl. You’re of noble blood and warrior stock. You have no bonds to anyone but your Highlanders and show no ambition to climb higher than you are in the world.”

“Because there is no place higher to climb than to be lord of Craighdhu.”

He meant it. The simple words were spoken with absolute sincerity and authority. She had seen rulers of nations who did not exude that air of power.

“Nonsense. But it suits me to have you believe that arrogant folderol. As long as you cling to that notion, you will not use the child to try to seize a crown.” She frowned. “But you must stop raiding Philip’s ships.”

“Indeed? But I may continue to raid yours?”

“I believed you when you said that you did that just to prick at James, but you must not indulge in such mischief again. I won’t have you killed on the seas when you should be at Craighdhu protecting the girl. You must keep her safe.”

“I could see how my death could be inconvenient to you,” he said ironically. “I regret to refuse you, but I have no desire to become embroiled in your plots, and certainly no desire to wed.”

“You must wed sometime.”

He shrugged. “When I do, it will be with someone who can bring something to Craighdhu besides bloodshed.”

“You’ve not shown any reluctance to shed blood in the past.”

“But it’s an oddity of mine that I prefer to choose when and where I fight.” He met her gaze. “And it won’t be in your cause, Your Majesty.”

“Nor in James’s, evidently. What will you fight for?”

“Craighdhu,” he said simply. “Only Craighdhu.”

“Good,” she said. It was the answer for which she had hoped. “Then if the girl is at Craighdhu, she will be secure.”

“Perhaps I’m not making myself clear. I will not wed the girl.”

“You
will
wed her.” She paused. “Or I will take your henchman out and hang him and then have his body dismembered into so many pieces, there will not be anything left to bury in your precious Craighdhu.”

He went still. “I’ve not heard that Your Majesty is in the habit of killing innocent men to enforce your will.”

“The girl is innocent too. I will
not
have her caught in a trap because of her birth. I thought her safe for a few more years at Sheffield, but now I cannot …” She stopped. “You must take her away at once. I will have your word on it.”

“You expect me to keep a vow forced on me?”

“You will keep it. Percy tells me a Highlander’s vow is sacred. You will give me your word to wed her and take her to Craighdhu.”

He was silent.

“Do not make me prove I mean what I say. I have no desire to kill your clansman. There is too much death in the air right now,” she added wearily.

He still did not speak, his gaze searching her expression for any sign of weakness. She showed him none.

He muttered a curse and then said between his teeth, “You have my vow.”

“That’s not enough. Give me the words.”

He said with icy precision, “I promise to wed the girl and take her to Craighdhu.”

Relief flowed through her. It was done. “Very sensible. You will be released at dawn and given back your purse and horses. You will go directly to Sheffield, where the girl resides in a cottage a few miles from the village. She’s cared for by the vicar and his good wife.
Sebastian Landfield is a godly man and has devoted the last thirteen years to her well-being. Percy will give you a letter I’ve written bidding the vicar give you custody of the girl. She will be no trouble. The vicar assures me she is presentable and has been raised to be a loyal Protestant and a meek, virtuous maiden.” She moved toward the door. “You’ve made a wise decision, my lord.”

“I didn’t make it, you did. I prefer to make my own choices.” He rose slowly to his feet. “And when I don’t, it makes me … annoyed.”

He was more than annoyed. He was in a cold rage, and she again felt that intriguing thrill of fear. She had all the weapons in this encounter, and yet she still experienced a moment of uncertainty and regret. There were so few interesting men in the world, and she would probably never see him again. It was a pity she was being forced to sacrifice him to the girl. “Someone must win in every battle.”

“You have not won yet, Your Majesty.”

“I have your word.”

A flicker of indefinable emotion crossed his face. “Yes, you have my word.”

“Then I have won.” Her lips thinned. “And upon my oath, if I hear of you mistreating her, I’ll send an armada of my own to Craighdhu to punish you.” She crossed the room and shouted, “Percy! Let me out of here. I’m done with him.”

“That’s not quite true, Your Majesty,” MacDarren said softly. “You’re not done with me yet.”

“What do you—” She glanced over her shoulder and saw in his expression not only anger but implacable resolution. MacDarren clearly had no intention of permitting her to walk away a complete victor. Perhaps she had been wrong, and she might indeed see him again. It was not a totally unpleasant thought.

She smiled at him. “Good evening, my lord.” As the door opened, she swept out of the cell.

•    •    •

“A bridegroom,” Gavin murmured. “What a felicitous thought. You staying close to the hearth while your meek young wife hovers over her loom sewing a fine—”

“I’m glad you find this so amusing,” Robert said grimly. “I should have let Her Majesty chop you to pieces.”

Gavin winced. “The idea is obscene. I choose not to dwell on it. Besides, it’s time you wed. I’ve grown weary of all this traveling about.”

“Then
you
wed and go sit by the fire.”

“But no one has arranged such a fine marriage for me.” He quickly changed the subject as Robert shot him a lethal glance. “We go direct to Sheffield?”

“The queen was most explicit. It appears she’s in a great hurry.”

“Why?”

Robert was silent a moment, thinking about it. “Mary. She’s going to let it happen.”

“You think she’s going to sign the order to execute Mary? But she’s been avoiding it for weeks.”

And Elizabeth had said twice to him that she did not want to execute Mary of Scotland, Robert remembered. Yet he was well aware that desire and necessity did not always go hand in hand. God knows, some of the decisions he was forced to make as chief of his clan were not to his liking. The urgency with which she had insisted that the removal of Mary’s daughter from England take place at once did not make sense unless she had decided to take that final, deadly step in her dealings with Mary. He said slowly, “I believe she will either sign the order or find a way to have Mary executed that will shift some of the blame from her own shoulders.”