Kill or Be Kilt (17 page)

He brushed his thumb against her cheek, and she leaned her head against his hand. “Mayhap ye will give me the honor of a dance this eve.”

“But you don't dance. I believe your exact words were ‘not even under the threat of death.'”

“Aye, but I ne'er had the chance to have ye as my partner.”

* * *

Elizabeth waited for Mister Condell at the gatehouse as she'd promised. The intermittent drizzle of rain was heavy enough to spoil outside activities. As Ian leaned against the wall with his arms folded over his chest, she knew this was the last place he'd rather be, especially with Mister Condell.

“Would you look at that?” she asked. Ian walked over to her, and she gestured to the ceiling of the gatehouse.

“What am I looking at, lass?”

She grabbed his arm to turn him around and pointed with her finger. “There. Do you see it? Anne Boleyn's falcon badge is fashioned on a diamond-shaped carving. The letter of her name is entwined with King Henry's in lovers' knots. Can you see the ‘A' for Anne and the ‘H' for Henry?”

“Aye. I see it now.”

“King Henry loved Anne, adored her even. I've heard the apartments that he'd built for her were very close to his private chambers. At one point in time, they couldn't bear to be separated from each other. I cannot understand how one moment two people can be so madly in love and then hating each other the next. It's rather sad.”

“Lass, she was infamous for playing dangerous games at court and caught the attention of the king. Her fall from grace was inevitable.”

“Perhaps, but that doesn't make their tale any less exciting.”

“I couldn't agree more, Lady Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth turned, and Mister Condell greeted her with a smile. “Mister Condell, it's a pleasure to see you again.”

He gave her a slight bow. “Lady Elizabeth.” He briefly tipped his head to Ian. “Laird Munro.”

“Condell.”

“The guard is coming to unlock the doors for us. Shall we proceed?”

When he extended his arm, Elizabeth hesitated, remembering Ruairi's words. Although she understood his concern about Mister Condell, she didn't want to be rude to the man. She placed her hand on his arm and turned to Ian. “Laird Munro, are you ready?”

He didn't look at her but glared at Mister Condell. “Aye.” The way Ian answered her question made her think that he was ready all right—to do something to Mister Condell.

They made their way to the apartments as a guard unlocked the door. Mister Condell gestured Elizabeth and Ian inside.

“We are not permitted to touch anything, but you can look wherever you'd like.”

Elizabeth couldn't believe she was standing in the same place where Anne Boleyn had lived. She wondered how many times King Henry had crossed that threshold to see his beloved—well, until the wind changed direction and he had her beheaded.

As she walked through Anne Boleyn's apartments, she noted the two sitting areas and a large stone fireplace, and again, the letters “A” and “H” carved into the mantel. She could only imagine the lavishness of these rooms during King Henry's reign.

“This area has not been touched for years,” said Mister Condell. As if on cue, Ian let out a loud sneeze.

“Sutherland told me that I could find ye here,” said Laird Fraser, walking into the room. He made no attempt to mask the look of disgust that crossed his face. “I did nae think the damn guard was ever going to let me pass. God's teeth! Ye'd think I was a vagrant trying to steal the precious wares. I've come to share good news. The MacLeod was granted his audience. It will nae be long now before we all are called before the king.”

“Would you like to see the other rooms?” asked Mister Condell.

“Yes. That would be lovely.” Elizabeth glanced at Ian, and he gave her an easy smile.

“Ye donna have to wait for me while I speak with the Fraser.” He drew his attention to Mister Condell, and his expression darkened like a summer storm. As if the man's presence wasn't daunting enough, Ian placed his hand on the hilt of his sword in subtle warning. “The rooms are nae that large. I can come if I'm called.”

Elizabeth coughed. “Yes, well, let's hope it doesn't come to that, shall we?”

She followed Mister Condell into another small sitting area, and the room opened into a bedchamber. Although the bed was covered in dust, the coverlet had hundreds of botanically accurate embroidered flowers. How fitting the petals were used to symbolize the love between Henry and Anne.

“I can't thank you enough for showing me these apartments, especially since not many men and women are granted access to such history.”

Mister Condell gave her a roguish grin. “I cannot lie about my intentions, my lady. I'd show you anything you'd like to see just to have a chance to be with you again.”

“Mister Condell, although I appreciate your words of kindness, I don't think it wise to accept more of your generosity.”

He closed what little distance was left between them and lifted her chin with his fingers. As she stared at his handsome face, she felt nothing. Her heart belonged to only one man. She pulled away, giving Mister Condell an uneasy smile. Heaven help her. If she called for Ian, there would be a murder in Anne Boleyn's bedchamber.

“Lady Elizabeth, I'm willing to give you far more than words of kindness or my generosity. I give you me—my heart, my soul, and my love.”

She cleared her throat. “Mister Condell, I—”

“Will. My name is Will. Please call me by my given name.”

“Mister Condell, I cannot—”

Elizabeth's words were smothered by his lips in Anne Boleyn's chamber. His grip tightened, and she couldn't move. She could barely breathe to call out to Ian. When she finally managed to push him away, ready to give him a firm scolding, he glanced at the bedchamber door with a wicked smile.

Ian…

Elizabeth stood within Mister Condell's embrace knowing she'd never forget the expression on Ian's face as long as she lived and breathed. Her first feeling was fear for Mister Condell because Ian could've easily torn the man apart. She was shaking with trepidation but soon realized her assumptions were incorrect. That was not anger she saw in Ian's eyes—it was anguish.

She had opened her mouth to speak when Ian silenced her with his dark, angry expression. He whipped around, and his broad back thundered away.

Mister Condell chuckled. “That's one way to rid ourselves of your chaperone.”

“Your kiss was not welcome.”

A mischievous look came into his eyes. “Your body did not deny me.”

“You held me so tightly that I couldn't even breathe, let alone deny you anything,” she said vehemently.

“My apologies, Lady Elizabeth, but I must say that I'm quite taken aback by your words.” He stepped around her. “This is a first for me. I've never known any woman to deter my favors.”

“I'm sure not many women have,” she said dryly, turning to face him. “Mister Condell, I enjoy talking with you about the history of King Henry, and I thoroughly loved the play, but there is nothing between us.”

“And why is that, I wonder? We both love history. You're beautiful and intelligent. Very rarely does a man find both qualities in a woman.”

“I'm afraid my heart belongs to another. It always has.”

There was a heavy silence.

“Then he is a very lucky man, my lady.” He gave her a slight bow. “Again, please accept my apologies. Let me make it up to you.”

“I assure you. That's not necessary.”

An apologetic look crossed his face. “Oh, but it is, my lady. In three days, I'll be giving my last performance as King Henry for the season before returning to Spain. There will even be a few surprises in the final act. Rumors are circulating there will be cannon fire. I'm sworn to secrecy, but you'll have to come and see for yourself.”

“Mister Condell, I—”

“And
I
will only accept ‘yes' as your answer. I've enjoyed your company, Lady Elizabeth. I do not want to part on unfavorable terms. Let me make amends.” He gave her an easy smile. “I cannot return to Spain knowing I've tried to take something that was not offered. Come to the play and enjoy yourself one last time. That's the least I can do for my abhorrent behavior.”

Part of this situation was her fault, and she felt guilty. Elizabeth blamed herself for not deterring his affections all along, which encouraged him to pursue her. As a result, the man had stolen a kiss. The way he was staring at her made her realize he wasn't going to relent until she accepted his peace offering. Besides, she could bring Ian along, and she needed to make haste to find him now.

“Very well.”

His eyes lit up. “I will reserve the same seats for you, my lady.”

She spun on her heel and walked with hurried purpose through the apartments. Even though she was leaving years of history behind, she didn't even take a second glance around. The past didn't matter. Henry and Anne's love had died, but there wasn't anything in the world that would stand in the way of the love she had for Ian. Nothing was more important than the present.

As soon as she made her way out the door, Elizabeth stopped dead in her tracks. The only man waiting was the guard.

“Have you seen Laird Munro?”

“The Highlander took his leave from the castle.”

Her eyes widened. “What do you mean he took his leave? How do you know?”

The guard gestured behind her into the apartments. “I saw him leave the gates through the window.”

Elizabeth wondered if poor Anne had felt the same way about Henry when the king turned his back on her.

* * *

Ian dismounted on a grassy knoll by the River Thames. At least the drizzle had stopped. He tied off his mount and stood at the water's edge, needing to be alone with his unpleasant thoughts. Although Elizabeth had spoken words of love, it didn't take her long before she threw herself into the arms of the bonny Condell.

How he'd wanted to believe with every fiber of his being that she was different from the rest of the lasses who avoided him like the plague. But now? His misery was like a steel weight. Why would he have ever taken the advice of Ruairi and Fagan?

He closed his eyes, his heart aching with pain. A flash of loneliness stabbed at him, and torment was eating him from the inside. He took deep breaths until he was strong enough to lift his head. The flowing river didn't even calm him. When thundering hoofbeats approached from behind, he didn't bother to turn around.

“What the hell do ye think ye're doing?
A bheil thu ceart gu leòr?
”
Are you all right?

“Can ye nae even let a man brood alone in peace?”

Fagan tethered his mount. “I saw ye ride out the gates like the hounds of hell—or the bloody English—were nipping at your heels. Ruairi found Elizabeth alone, and I rode after ye. What happened?”

“I caught Elizabeth in the arms of Condell.”

Fagan let out a heavy sigh and briefly closed his eyes. “Munro, the lass loves ye. There's probably a logical reason why ye thought ye saw what ye did.”

“Och, aye, but I donna think there's any excuse the lass could give for her lips being locked with that bastard's the moment I turn my back!”

“They kissed?” Fagan paused, a puzzled expression crossing his face. “I can nae say for certain what happened, but I know well enough to recognize that Elizabeth did nae play a part in this. She loves
ye
, ye daft fool. Condell probably kissed
her
. Did she nae tell ye that? What did she say?”

“I donna know. I did nae ask her.”

Fagan's tongue was heavy with sarcasm. “Munro, God knows ye are dangerous on the battlefield, but naught compares to ye being in love.”

“
Na dean sin.
”
Don't do that.
“I am in nay mood to hear any more of your riddles.”

“Then let me make my words clear. Ye're being an arse.” When Ian's eyes darkened, Fagan took a step back. “I told Ruairi when he was being daft with Ravenna, and now I'm telling ye that ye're being an idiot with Elizabeth. Why are ye so quick to judge something ye know naught about? Get on your damn horse, ride back to court, and talk to the lass to find out what happened. Ye're going to look even more the fool when she tells ye Condell's actions were nae welcome. And let's nae mention the fact that ye took your leave. Ye left the lass in the arms of the actor believing the worst. Ye had nay faith or trust in Elizabeth. And because of your lack of self-assurance, ye turned your back on a man who was taking advantage of the woman ye love. What if Condell would've had his way with her?”

Fagan shook his head in disgust, and his voice was raised. “I pity ye, Munro. Because ye think nay lass would want ye because of your looks, that foolishness has blinded ye. Let me say this in a way ye'll understand. 'Tis nae your face, ye arse…'tis ye. Ye're losing the lass without even knowing it. I hope to hell 'tis nae too late to fix what ye've done. To be truthful, I donna know if Elizabeth will be so forgiving this time.”

Ian stood motionless, and his body stiffened in shock. He was so wrapped up with seeing Elizabeth share a kiss with Condell, the thought had never crossed his mind she didn't desire to be in the man's arms in the first place. His face burned with the memory, realizing it was possible that he'd misunderstood the entire situation.

He stormed over to the tree and rammed his fist into the trunk. “
A mhic an Diabhail
!
”
Son of the Devil!
Ian didn't attempt to mask his fit of rage. Fagan had seen him before at his worst. “She is ne'er going to forgive me. 'Twas bad enough that I've lied. I took my leave when I should've protected her! What the hell is wrong with me?”

Fagan walked to Ian's side, pulling a piece of material out of his sporran. “Ye're a man.” He handed Ian the cloth. “Wipe the blood from your hand and come back to court. I have nay doubt ye've fired Elizabeth's ire something fierce. Fortunately for ye, I'm wed to Grace. I know how to prepare for battle, and ye've got a long one ahead of ye, my friend. This will be nay easy feat. If ye donna fix this the proper way, ye will lose her forever.”

“Then what the hell are we waiting for?”

* * *

When Ruairi had found Elizabeth wandering the halls of court alone, she wasn't surprised the first question he'd asked her was if something had befallen Laird Munro. Ruairi would discover that Ian had abandoned her sooner or later, but she wasn't about to tell him what happened in the first place to make his best friend leave. After all, Ruairi was a brawny Highlander who carried a large broadsword. And she believed Mister Condell should live to see another day. She wouldn't have him meet his maker over a kiss—although men have been killed for less.

“And ye're nae certain why Munro took his leave from the castle?” asked Ruairi for the hundredth time.

“No.” She knew perfectly well why Ian had left because her vision was still gloomily colored with the memory. She was seething with mounting rage, and the safest place for the man right now was out of her sight.

“Lady Elizabeth…”

When Elizabeth turned, the Tullibardine sisters greeted her with a smile. “Lady Margery and Lady Gillian, I don't believe you've met my brother-in-law. Pray allow me to introduce to you Laird Sutherland.”

Lady Gillian—or it could've been Lady Margery—gave Ruairi a raking gaze from head to toe. “It's our pleasure to meet you, Laird Sutherland. I can see what they say is definitely true then.”

“And what is that, my lady?” asked Ruairi.

Lady Gillian slapped her hands together in a giddy gesture. “Oh, I just adore your accent.” She nudged her sister in the arm. “Don't you love his voice, Margery? It's very becoming.” Lady Gillian gave Ruairi a wicked smile. “Highland men are so much…
larger
than most of our English men.”

“Lady Gillian and Lady Margery, would you ladies like to join me in the great hall? I didn't get a chance to eat the noon meal,” said Elizabeth, trying to remove her brother-in-law from the clutches of the Tullibardine sisters.

“Laird Sutherland, will you join us?” asked Lady Gillian, her expression hopeful. “We'd love to have you.”

“Nay. Thank ye, but I'm waiting for my captain. I'm sure ye'll be in pleasant company with Lady Elizabeth.”

Lady Gillian rubbed her fingers on Ruairi's arm, and he stilled at the gesture. The way the woman behaved, Elizabeth wouldn't have been surprised if Lady Gillian tried to lift his kilt in the middle of the hall.

“I'm sorry to hear you won't be joining us.” Lady Gillian gave Ruairi another frank and admiring look before she walked away with her sister. As Elizabeth turned, Ruairi grabbed her arm to stay her.

“Thank ye for that.”

“I'll find you after the meal.”

“Lass, be careful with them, especially the one who speaks like Grace.”

Elizabeth was flanked at the table in the great hall with a Tullibardine sister on each side. As soon as she reached for a piece of bread, Lady Gillian cleared her throat.

“You're a lucky woman to have such a handsome brother-in-law, or I should say, your sister is a lucky woman to have Laird Sutherland as her husband.”

“I'm certain my sister feels the same way,” said Elizabeth.

“Don't mind Gillian,” said Lady Margery. “She'll try to bed any man with a handsome visage, Scot or not.”

Elizabeth choked on her bread and washed it down with a sip of mulled wine.

“You're just jealous you're not as beautiful as me, Margery.”

Elizabeth gazed from left to right. “You do realize you are twins and look exactly the same.”

“That doesn't stop my sister from thinking she has all the looks in the family,” said Lady Margery.

Elizabeth thought it best to change the subject before the sisters started to feud in the middle of the great hall. “I went to the theatre yesterday to see the play.”

Lady Gillian leaned toward Elizabeth and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “And how was the handsome Mister Condell?”

“He played a very convincing King Henry.” Not wanting to talk about Mister Condell for obvious reasons, she added, “I also met Mistress Alexander while I was there. She's the woman who made the men in the play look like women. She did wonders with Queen Katherine. Don't you agree? I never would have known the queen was a man.”

Lady Gillian laughed. “Yes. The queen did look like a woman, and rightfully so.”

“The last performance is in three days. There are rumors that the actors have some surprises in store for the audience too, perhaps even cannon fire,” said Elizabeth.

“A cannon…in the theatre?” asked Lady Margery. “Do you think that's true, Lady Elizabeth? How would they even manage such a daunting task without hitting the walls of the theatre or the people within it?”

“I'm not certain.”

“We're going to attend the play with our father. He's joining some members of the Privy Council for the final performance,” said Lady Gillian. “I find the second time I watch the actors that I catch everything I missed the first time. You should come, Lady Elizabeth. It's sure to be an exciting evening.”

“I'm looking forward to returning home,” said Lady Margery. “I think I've had enough excitement for a while.” She lowered her voice and spoke in Elizabeth's ear. “At least there haven't been any more deaths. I've been very unsettled staying here in the palace and have been making certain our door is latched every night. But I don't know if that's even enough to keep us secure. We're under the same roof as the king's guard, yet men are killed in the light of day in places like the gardens. I wonder if anyone is truly safe.”