Highland Hearts 03 - Crimson Heart (16 page)

The lads smothered their laughter. “Bess won’t hurt ye, milady. She just thought ye were a fly is all.”

Elena rubbed her hands together. “To warm them,” she explained, making the gathering crowd chuckle. Searc waited for a time to ease the letter into the trough. The pigs continued to chew but jogged away from him with a few snorts and flapping ears. The chickens also fluttered and flapped toward the far side of the pen. Even contained, his dark magic warned animals away. Elena glanced at him as she bent to grab the cow’s teats.

Everyone was watching her. He would push the letter down into the trough.
Right n—

A ball of gray fluff sprang around the corner of the pen by the cows and apparently decided Searc was the devil himself. The cat leapt, claws out, landing directly on Bess’s sloped back. The cow sent out a shrill cry, snorting and shaking its bulk while the cat hissed. Elena screamed as the cow yanked to the side, pulling her underneath.

Searc dropped the letter into the trough and jumped over the fence in with the two cows, the two frantic lads, Elena and the bristling cat. Anyone who was not already present ran to the fence. A guard jumped in to help but Searc reached the mass of chaos first, shoving the wild-eyed cow out of the way.

“Are ye hurt?” Searc hauled Elena out from under the low hanging belly.

She shook her head and groaned, looking down at her muddied skirts.

The cat was yowling and the cow still crying and shifting, trying to dislodge the puss. The guard grabbed the cat by the tail and yanked. “Fiendish beast!” The man looked to throw the thrashing feline to several barking dogs who were adding to the commotion outside the pen.

Searc caught the guards arm. “Let it go,” he ordered, his stare intent on the man’s angry eyes. Panic and pain sprung from the cat and Searc forced the guard’s arm lower so the cat’s paws could touch ground. It hissed and twisted, but still the guard held tightly to its tail. “I said,” Searc began and let some of his simmering fury show in the deadly narrowing of his eyes, “let the puss go.”

The guard dropped the cat and yanked away from Searc. “Bloody hell! Did ye see his eyes?”

Searc stood still, not even breathing, and felt the brush of Elena’s skirts as she moved in front of him, blocking him from the onlookers.

“Pish.” She turned to him and grabbed his hands in hers. She moved her head as if examining his eyes. “A trick of the sun,” she called back over her shoulder as if chiding the man for his hysterics. She leaned in then, completely on her toes and pulled his head down for a kiss.

Searc kept still, struggling to erect the containment around his magic. The fury that had erupted at the abuse of the cat, dissolved under the softness of Elena’s lips. As the kiss continued for more than a casual peck, he heard a couple chuckles. Elena released him, her cheeks flushed. He watched the crisp edge of her teeth rest on her lower lip as she blinked, and Searc fought to re-bottle the lust he’d subdued in the stable.

With a small exhale Elena whirled around and leaned back into him. Searc caught sight of the guard who’d threatened to hurl the cat. The man shrugged and grumbled but strode off.

“Now, is there a gentleman to help a lady back over the fence?” Elena asked. The entire line of bloody male spectators took a step closer, but Searc scooped Elena up.

“Yer husband is more than able to attend thee.” Searc swept her over and lowered her on the other side, climbing after her to take her arm. “We should see to yer gown, wife.” He whisked her away, glancing back at the pens. The pigs returned to the slop trough as he and Elena strolled down the pebbled garden walk. The gray cat followed them.

“Ye have a way with distraction, lass. How did ye ever manage the cat?”

Elena laughed softly at his joke and glanced up at him. He almost choked. With her cheeks flushed, her hair tugged loose and a spark of mischief in her eyes she looked like she had just been tupped—tupped and damn happy about it. Her smile was warm and honest and made the beat of his heart feel lighter, more open to breath.

“I have a penchant for disaster,” she quipped. She shook her head. “You saved that cat.” She eyed the feline as it ducked off into the barn.”

“I champion the small and weak.” He smiled at her indignant pout as if he spoke of her. “I won’t abandon an animal.” His smile faded.

“Were you able to…?”

Searc gave a quick nod. “It is in the trough. Hopefully the pigs are hungry.”

He felt her hand tighten on his arm and he placed his own large paw over it. Perhaps they should have continued to look for a flame. Elena was intent on destroying the letter and he would help her. It certainly pointed to secrets she would like kept. He understood secrets. He’d lived with them his whole life. Why then did her not trusting him with her own secrets tighten his gut?

…

Searc entered their room cautiously but everything seemed as they left it. Elena walked across to peer out the tall window. “This palace is not fortified.” She shook her head. “A killer could gain access easily. I hope Linlithgow feels more secure.”

She took her turn washing her hands in the basin and then presented her back for him to unfasten, as if he truly were her husband. “And once again I am covered in mud.”

He concentrated on the small fastenings down the gentle slope of her spine. Lord help him. He’d barely calmed since the stables and now he was undressing her in a room with a soft bed in his periphery. “Linlithgow may be safer, but ye may not like being prepared for a wedding ye do not desire.” His words sounded somber. The heavy, blue material parted, revealing the thin white linen of her shift, and he smothered a groan.

She said nothing. When he stepped back, she turned, her hand holding the open gown to her chest. “I won’t take up more of your time than necessary, Searc,” she said. Her features were stiff. “As soon as possible we will annul the vows. Your Father Daughtry can see to it when we reach the Highlands, can’t he?”

“Aye,” Searc nodded but the word felt heavy. Finishing what they had started before would complicate an annulment. She must know that. Perhaps she had changed her mind. “It may be…difficult for us to play our parts at the wedding,” he said. Bloody impossible to play the part of an indifferent newly wedded groom if she kept walking around half undressed.

“’Tis but another role.” She shrugged and the gown slipped off one slender shoulder. The silk of her skin shone like a beacon. She sat on the edge of the bed, holding her dirty gown before her. Even in mud, she was beautiful. Her eyes were so green, like the thick, dark pines of home.

He cleared his throat. “Ye have had to play many roles? That must make ye weary.”

The air seemed to press out of her on a silent exhale, condensing her, making her appear smaller. She looked…sad.

“Everyone plays a part,” she said softly. “To survive in this world, one must play the game.” Her lips were open as if poised to say more, but then she shut them. “I will have to wear my plain day dress until this can be repaired. It was worth it to get rid of the letter, though.”

She stood to let the blue gown pool around her feet. Her stays tightened her already small waist, letting the farthingale slope away to hold out the heavy over skirts. She stepped out of the soiled gown and lifted the green day dress gently over her head to fall about the supports. Her slender arms poked through, and with a jiggle the dress fell into place. She pulled the sleeves up quickly. Once again she presented her back. “Please.”

His fingers moved to the fabric-covered buttons that would hold the dress together over her body. “We have games in the Highlands,” he said casually. “Games of strength, children’s games too. They teach and test survival skills. Even though the battles ye have fought are of a different sort, I’d say yer survival depended on skills too.” She didn’t answer though her shoulders stood rigid before him. “Who taught ye how to play different parts, Elena?”

“Thomas,” she whispered and he heard the hitch in her voice. Such a small word, yet the catch and the emotion that accompanied it told much more.

“Yer father?”

She hesitated, then nodded and moved away from him. Even if he hadn’t been able to sense the tensing in her frame, the hesitation meant more. And most daughters didn’t call their fathers by name.
Damn
.
She’s lying to me.

“Ye miss him.” Searc studied her as she moved to a polished mirror to check her reflection.

“Yes.”

“How did he die?”

Elena’s finger froze where she’d tucked a curl back under the French hood she’d straightened. Her gaze met his in the reflection. “He didn’t play the game well enough.”

Searc’s gut tightened at the sadness in her tone. He moved to stand behind her, rested his hands on her shoulders, and turned her around. Her chin was strong, yet her eyes glittered with unshed tears. He yearned to banish them, to pull back the joy he’d seen as they’d teased crossing the bailey just a short time ago. What could he possibly do to help her when she wouldn’t name her demons?

“Elena,” he said, capturing her chin in his fingers. “Tell me what ye are running from. I can’t help ye if I don’t know what harasses ye.”

They stood looking at one another for a long moment. One tear broke the dam of her lower lid and slid onto her cheek. She shook her head, making him drop his hold on her chin. She wiped the tear and gave him a forced smile. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Her beautiful features were stiff. Only the gentle blink of her lashes brought life to the sculpture before him. On an exhale she answered. “The first rule of the game…is not to tell anyone at what you are playing.”

He stared at her, his mouth opening though he didn’t know what to say. “Elena—”

She put her finger against his lips and suddenly stepped closer to him, throwing him off guard. “I’ve made a decision.” He waited, partly because all he could think of was that in one quick move, he’d have her dainty little finger in his mouth.

“Right now,” she continued and stared straight in his eyes, “My blood is neither hot nor racing.” She met his gaze evenly. “I would like very much for you to ruin me.”

Searc’s breath stuck somewhere between chivalrous refusal and adamant acceptance. She removed her finger so he could speak though that required breath. Her eyes were so wide and she blinked as if his hesitancy hurt. Did she think he didn’t want to take her right there on the bed behind them? The slight wince of pain tightening those pink lips were too much for him.

As she turned her face away, Searc grabbed her up in a hold so honestly brutal, he worried at first that he’d hurt her. But Elena wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his face down as he tilted her face up. Fire raced through his body even faster than in the stable. Already primed, each muscle and his very blood filled with life and intensity. His fingers ran through the silk of her hair, holding her head in the perfect tilt to fit his kiss. Hot and searing, their breaths mingled as they tasted and reveled in the feel of each other. More than a kiss, it was a ravishment on both sides, thirsty and desperate for the taste of one another.

Searc molded her against him, cupping her hips through the skirts. A small moan escaped her, and he lifted her in a swoop up into his arms without breaking apart. “Och, lass, I want ye,” he murmured against her warm mouth.

The bed was only three steps away. He set her on it, disentangling her arms from his neck.

“Searc?”

“I’ll lock the door, lass,” he managed to say and turned.

A woman’s high-pitched scream cut through the thick oak. Searc’s heat turned instantly to lethal power as magic flooded his gut. He unsheathed his sword as a second scream penetrated from the other side.

To His Majesty, Henry II, King of France

I continue to support Marie de Guise, queen regent of Scotland, here in Edinburgh. I fear that Lord Arran works in secret with the English and plots Marie’s murder. There have been two attempts on her life in the last two months. Her wine was poisoned and her mount was tampered with. I agree with her desire to keep her daughter safely within your household. We move to Linlithgow Castle for a time for safety and comfort. I will continue to advise you regarding the queen regent’s plans. In answer to your previous letter, no, she does not seem open to remarriage.

Most sincere wishes for happiness,

Henri Cleutin,
Ambassadeur Français
en Ecosse

Elena jumped to the floor while Searc drew his sword. The song of metal sliding free added to his lethal look, changing Searc instantly from lover to warrior. He stalked, like a large predator, toward the door. It was unlocked already and with obvious strength he yanked it open, his sword poised. Someone in the hall squeaked.

Elena stepped quickly to see around Searc’s mountainous frame. A short, roundish woman stood in the hall, a hand at her mouth, eyes round with fright. She pointed downward.

In a quick gesture, Searc re-sheathed his weapon. He bent forward to retrieve whatever was on the floor and turned.

“’Twould seem I’m being thanked for saving the puss.”

Elena jumped as a flash of gray fur ran around Searc’s legs and into the room. She stared at the dead mouse hanging from Searc’s fingers, her gaze moving to the cat inspecting her from the hearth.

“It brought you a dead mouse?” Elena laid her hand on the maid’s back to usher her in.

“A share of his bounty.” Searc disposed of the rodent in the privy that sat behind a curtain in the corner.

“
Je suis
désolé
,” the woman apologized in French. “
Les petites
beasties, they frighten me.”

Elena smiled and held one cool hand against her own flushed cheek, hoping the maid wouldn’t notice her severe blush. “Were you looking for one of us?”

Searc bent to stroke the cat as it curled around his well-muscled calves.

“
Oui,
madam
,” the woman said. “I have been sent to pack your belongings to journey to Linlithgow Castle and to tell you that the queen regent requests your company to discuss wedding plans. I am Madeline.”

“Where is Hannah?” Elena’s heart jumped into her throat.

“She has left the palace,” Madeline supplied. “I am to see to your needs now.” She executed a little dip of a curtsey, head bowed.

“She left? Did anyone see her leave? Was she by herself? Why did she go?”

Elena’s head began to throb. Could Hannah have been taken? Because she knew who asked her to plant the letter?

Searc came to stand with Elena which seemed to make the maid nervous. Or perhaps it was the rapid line of questioning being thrown at her like dirks at a target.

“I didn’t see her go,
non
, but another lady of the queen regent’s ladies said that Hannah needed to go home to her family. Perhaps someone is ill. She asked to leave and the regent had Lord Cleutin pay her wages.”

“Do ye know where Hannah’s family home is?” Searc’s hand stroked the small of Elena’s back. “Is it close?”

Madeline shrugged as she looked between them. “I will ask
aux autres filles
, the others.”

Elena sat on the edge of the bed, not sure what to do. They were to go to Linlithgow the next day. There wasn’t time to thoroughly investigate. What could she do? Hannah could already be dead, sliced up and down her body with evil designs like the others.

Only the sound of the cat purring infiltrated the silence. Madeline waited.

“My wife has a gown to be repaired,” Searc switched topics. “She fell in the mud earlier.”

“
Oui, monsieur
. I will see it done.” Madeline bobbed her head and retrieved the gown. “Shall I let the queen regent know that you will be joining her soon?” She looked at Elena. When Elena nodded, numbly, Madeline smiled and turned to quit the room with the gown. When the door shut with a minor click, Elena rested her face in her hands, all ardor chilled away by the fear for the young maid. She should have sought Hannah out right away. There just hadn’t been time.

“She may very well have really gone home, Elena.” Searc bent to look in her eyes. “Whoever passed her the letter may have frightened her so much that she decided to leave.” Elena exhaled long. He guided her to sit on the bed.

“I can feel worry and fear rolling off ye,” he said softly. “I won’t let anything happen to ye.”

“I know. And I’m sorry we keep…stopping.”

“Elena.” He trailed off the sound of her name like a caress. His fingers moved forward and touched her cheek. Elena flinched when the cat jumped up on the bed to squeeze between them, the soft fur brushing the back of her wrist. Searc withdrew his hand and an ache squeezed her heart.

“Ye need to make sure, Elena.” His voice sounded like a gentle rumble of summer thunder. “There is no going back for a lass.”

“I know how it works,” she rebuked though her voice sounded too breathy to hold much bite.

He stood. “’Tis a good thing to know the physical consequences, but I’m talking about more than that.”

She stared up at him. Was he teasing her? There was mischief in his eyes. “More?”

“Aye.” He walked over to the hearth, and the cat followed. She watched his firm, warrior-like stance. The muscles in his back stretched his linen shirt tight as he inspected the spent ashes. “There’s more for a lass when she comes to ruin.” He gave her a cocky grin. “Ye see, once ye’re with me, yer heart will never be free. And what will ye do then?”

Elena grinned at his attempt to lighten her worry. She stood as they were once again summoned. “Perhaps it will be I to ruin you.”

She took his arm as there was no more time to verbally fence. Marie de Guise seemed to crave their company. Well, there was a wedding to plan. Her wedding. She felt her heart tremble once again and ignored it.

…

Searc sat Dearg on the narrow trail through the last of the scattered cottages on the outskirts of Edinburgh. Elena rode snug up before him on his mount as the rest of Marie of Guise’s horses carried her trunks and furniture. Elena’s skirts bunched up and pressed into his groin. He tried to ignore the rocking gait and aroma of flowers that seemed to infuse the air around her. He’d slept in the stables with Dearg last night, half to give the lass time to come to her senses and half to come to his own. If Elena wanted an annulment after their forced wedding, they shouldn’t consummate the arrangement. If he took her virtue, they’d be forced to lie to the priest back home.

Father Daughtry would sponsor the annulment, but Elena would never be able to make an honorable match after that. She said she wanted to be ruined, but how could a lass still so young wish to be alone. He frowned. Nay, she wouldn’t be alone, not being so bonny. Men wouldn’t care about her status, not with her beauty and spirit.
Och!
The thought of her with another man…Eric or Gavin or Cedric. His back teeth ground down upon the others.

Elena shifted to point at a bird, and Searc swallowed hard as she rubbed along his parted legs. She looked at him. “You are frowning fiercely,” she pointed out.

“I am a fierce, grumpy Highlander.” At least he used to be before Elena’s quips and teasing had him grinning like a merry lad.

She searched his expression, and turned back to face the front. He could admit he wanted to lay her down on his plaid in the ferns and devour her, but he wouldn’t persuade her to ruin. She’d have to arrive there all on her own, though it just might kill him in the process.

They rode in a line of two with Henri and Marie at the front on their fringe-bedecked mounts. A scout galloped ahead to make sure the roads were clear. The sun had made an appearance though clouds rolled across from the west. Searc caught splashes of a gray beast weaving between the trees, following them at a distance. Never to be left behind, Cheò knew to stay well away from the soldiers.

Father Renard road slightly ahead of Searc on his own horse. And the English ambassador, Lord Randolph, rode before him.

Searc frowned at the straight back of young Lord Randolph. The Englishman had stared through the morning at Elena. Even though the lass seemed unaffected, something tugged at Searc’s senses. He didn’t trust the man; he was English and reeked of hidden strategy. Searc breathed deeply.

“Is something wrong?” Elena asked. “Besides the obvious.” She glanced up into the trees.

“There is always danger when one rides with royalty through disgruntled countryside.” He kept his mouth close to her ear.

“I didn’t know the Scots disliked Marie de Guise,” Elena whispered.

“Some support her and her daughter for their royal lineage but some only because she is not English. Then there are others who wish an English alliance. They’ve been promised lands and arms against their rivals. It is best to stay alert.”

Lord Randolph slowed his horse, letting Father Renard move ahead of him. As the priest approached Marie from behind, her mare snorted and tried to pick up the pace. Perhaps the horse disliked the thick smell of incense that seemed to engulf the priest.

Lord Randolph moved back next to Searc, pulling his attention. The man had a pointy beard and close cropped hair. Very English and very annoying. He ignored Searc, looking only at Elena.

“Do you enjoy riding, Lady Elena?” Lord Randolph asked.

“I am not vastly experienced, though I do enjoy it.”

“I would think an English gentlewoman like yourself would be quite schooled in horsemanship. Didn’t your father take you riding as a girl?”

Elena stiffened though she kept a calm tone. “My father did not visit me much at Grimsthorpe Castle, Lord Randolph. With my responsibilities I rarely had time to indulge in learning to ride well.”

“And what precisely were those responsibilities?” He held his horse tightly, keeping it close to Elena.

“Why are ye asking?” Searc spoke from behind her.

Lord Randolph gave a small shake of his head. “Just interested in the lady. Conversation makes the journey seem shorter, though I’d hardly think a Scot from the west would understand.” His eyes turned to Searc. “It is my experience that Highlanders grunt more than they talk.”

“There is not much use for talking when we are sinking our swords into those who trespass on our lands,” Searc answered with a casual tilt to his head. The sudden ruddiness in the ambassador’s cheeks indicated he was bright enough to know Searc meant English trespassers.

They rode along in stiff silence until Randolph turned back to Elena, a composed smile on his face. “You lived with Lady Suffolk then, at Grimsthorpe? I understand she has fled the continent now that Queen Mary is seeking out Protestants.”

“Yes, and yes,” Elena said simply.

A hint of a frown marked the man’s face but he persisted. “I must admit, milady, you have me quite curious. You seem to have the fine breeding of a gentlewoman in the way you speak and carry yourself, though the regent says you were a mere servant in Lady Suffolk’s home. Who exactly were your father and mother?”

“William Wyatt was my father and I was told that my mother’s name was Mary. More than that, I do not know, milord.”

“Are you certain you—”

“She has answered ye,” Searc interrupted. “Do not—”

Randolph waved his hand as if batting a gnat and cut in. “Ordinary curiosity,” he countered and stared hard at Elena. “It is just that you have the look of greatness about you, milady. Red in your locks, intelligent eyes, aristocratic nose.” He stopped and squinted. “Have you had the honor of meeting Princess Elizabeth?”

Elena hesitated only a fraction. “As a child, I saw her once when my father took me to London for a festival. She rode by the stands.”

Randolph smiled broadly and shook his head as if perplexed. “The two of you could be…sisters.”

“Hardly, milord.”

“Though I must say,” he lowered his voice, “that you acquired a much comelier visage. A slightly darker tone to your red hair.” Randolph looked front toward the regent and Henri. “I would keep a close watch on your wife, Highlander. Lady Elena could be very valuable indeed.” Without waiting for a reply he kicked his mount and trotted to catch up to the front of the line.

“Horrible man,” Elena seethed. “Talk about me like I’m some prize mare to be guarded for the coins it could bring.” Rightful indignation on the outside, but with her squeezed against him, Searc could feel the fear roiling within her. It was amazing she could control her outward emotions so well.

Searc wrapped one arm in front of her waist, holding her securely between his legs. “Elena.” She turned in her seat, her narrow waist sliding through his loosened hold. Unease glistened in her eyes. It transformed her face into one of a beautiful tragic heroine, hardening his resolve. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. “Whoever ye are, whatever is chasing ye, it doesn’t matter, lass. As long as I am breathing, I will keep ye safe.” He meant every word. “I swear it.”