Highland Surrender (37 page)

Regret twisted his expression. “I cannot undo what we did to you, Fiona. That die is cast. And I would see Simon’s way clear of this if I could, but the plan of the Highland chiefs is doomed to fail and only suffering will come from it. Perhaps if I am the bearer of this news, the king will see fit to offer clemency. If not, then better Simon and I be sacrificed than all of Scotland put to war.”

Fiona pressed her fingers to her temples, but nothing could stop the clamoring inside her head. This was too much. Simon had followed his father’s path of vengeance, like any loyal son. Now it seemed John was similarly swayed by this knowledge of his Campbell bloodline.

She could not resist the question. “If Cedric had never told you he was your father, would you be taking that letter to Archibald Douglas instead of bringing it here?”

He held her gaze, and she saw the sadness in his eyes.

“Do not ask.”

“It could have meant a dire end for me, you know. It may still. For both of us.” Her breath hitched at the thought of Myles turning away from her.

John came quickly to her side. “You had no part in this. I will swear to that upon my life.”

She thought of all her childish behavior on the journey here from Sinclair Hall and Myles’s enduring patience. It seemed she must put him to the test once more, with a flaw of such magnitude his love might not withstand it. How proud she had been to be a Sinclair. Now she felt only shame.

“You say they will be a week or more?” John interrupted her thoughts.

She nodded.

He rubbed a hand across his jaw. “I cannot wait that long. I must reach the king before he sets sail.”

“You think to simply ride up to the gates of the palace and demand an audience? He will not see you.”

“I have no other choice.”

“I can get him in,” said a feminine voice.

Both Fiona and her brother jumped and turned toward the sound. The tent flap slid to the side and in stepped Vivienne.

“You’re right,” she added. “Tent walls offer little privacy.”

CHAPTER 38

“F
IONA,
I
CANNOT
sit idle waiting for your husband and the earl to return. I must leave at once for Linlithgow.”

Her brother paced around his tiny room at the inn where he’d taken lodging. She and Vivienne had joined him there after leaving the gypsy’s tent.

“But it’s possible we could miss them in the crossing. There is more than one route between Linlithgow and here.” Vivienne sat upon the bed in a garnet-colored dress, the deep, rich hue a contrast to the dim shades of the chamber.

“We?” John’s brows rose. “There is no
we
, my lady. I make this journey alone.”

Vivienne rose elegantly from the bed. “Nonsense. You cannot gain entrance without me. You need me.”

John’s jaw clenched. “Your offer is most gracious, but I can think of few things I need less on this journey than a woman. You’ll only slow me down and cause me worry.”

Vivienne smiled, and Fiona knew she would not be dissuaded.

“I can travel by horse just as a man would,” Vivienne said. “You’ll waste more time loitering by the palace gate if the king
will not see you. And if you make a fuss, the guards will clap you in irons and tote you to the stocks, but I can get you inside the walls in an instant.”

John’s eyes narrowed. “The stocks will be the least of my problems if I arrive too late to stop the king from setting sail. Truly, my lady, I appreciate your offer, but I must go forth on this quest without your assistance.”

The three of them had been arguing for nearly an hour, talking round each other and stewing over what to do, of how they might prevent this battle and still save Simon from the noose. John’s mistrust of Vivienne was palpable. And logical, considering she’d damned herself by admitting to eavesdropping on their conversation in the tent.

“Vivienne is right, John,” Fiona said. “It does no good to rush if you cannot get in, but perhaps I should go with you and beg an audience. The king was most gracious to me during his visit.”

Vivienne rolled her eyes. “Fiona, forgive me, but you are naive. The king may very well think you were a part of this plot all along. I, however, will testify I heard your brother reveal his tale to you.” A smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “And certainly, I’d be more adept than either of you at finding my way into the king’s chamber.”

Vivienne had little shame and few morals, advantageous traits for one undergoing such an excursion.

Fiona smiled in spite of her unease and looked to her brother. “She is right again. I see no point in beleaguering this issue further, John. We must go with you.”

“I do not like it. This is my cross to bear, not yours,” John said. “And I would not have the king and the earl think I hide behind the skirts of women.”

Fiona’s smiled broadened. “The king once hid behind a woman’s skirt himself, only he was wearing it at the time. We might remind him of that, if necessary.”

Against all of John’s arguments, they set out the next morning with ten Campbell men-at-arms, each one chosen by Vivienne for his valor and discretion.

John eyed each one with caution. “She seems highly unpredictable,” he whispered to Fiona, staring at Vivienne from the back of his horse.

Fiona adjusted the reins of her gray mare and followed his gaze. “Do not underestimate her. She is amazingly resourceful. We are lucky to have her on our side.”

“But
is
she on our side? Are you certain?”

“She is a loyal Campbell, John, but now so are we, remember? So, yes, I am certain. Unless you have some other purpose which you have not confessed?”

The idea sent a chill through her, but her brother’s expression gave her ease.

“You know everything. No more secrets. I cannot bear the weight of them. I only wish I could see clear some way to keep Simon from this mess.”

Fiona nodded and dashed away a tear. Their brother was boastful and impetuous, and never one to give her ease. Yet she’d not betray him or sacrifice him if there were any other way to serve their cause.

They rode hard for six days, sleeping only a few hours each night. Fiona managed well enough, pushing through exhaustion and the occasional nausea in her eagerness to see her husband. The child seemed to tolerate the journey as well, and she was grateful for that. Yet always present in her thoughts was her concern that the message they carried would make Myles turn away from her. If he thought she’d known of this all along, what might his reaction be? Still, it was a risk she must take. The future of the country rested on the success or failure of this endeavor.

At last, they reached Linlithgow. The palace sat in a hollow on the edge of an indigo loch surrounded by fruit trees. Though the sunshine bode of good tidings, fear pressed tight against Fiona’s chest. She prayed, as she had each day of their travels, they’d be welcomed by the king and commended for their haste. Most of all, she prayed John’s new loyalty would be rewarded with mercy for both him and Simon.

They rode through the cobbled streets of the village, past spice shops and vintners, milliners and silversmiths, until they reached the palace gates. As expected, guards halted their progression.

“Leave this to me,” Vivienne murmured to Fiona and John before nudging her horse forward. “Greetings, I am Lady Vivienne Ramsey. This is Lady Fiona Campbell and her brother. We bid an audience with the king at once, on a matter of the utmost importance.”

One guard stepped forward, patently unimpressed. “The king is seeing no callers today, my lady. Please return again another time.”

Her horse pranced sideways, as if annoyed by their dismissal. “The king will want to see us. We possess information most imperative to his future travels. Please send a messenger to him at once and tell him we are here.”

He looked away from her. “No callers today, my lady, by the king’s command.”

Vivienne looked down her nose. “Tell him we are here. That is by my command.”

Fiona squirmed in her saddle. How imperious Vivienne sounded! Still, the guard hardly blinked, and Fiona began to fear their failure.

“I obey the king, my lady. Be on your way.”

“What is your name, boy?”

The guard’s chin lifted. “Seamus Mackenzie, my lady.”

She leaned low over her horse’s neck so that her face was very near his. “Well, Seamus Mackenzie, I hope you crave infamy, for your name will be synonymous with a blunder of the greatest magnitude if you do not let us pass.”

Fiona exchanged a wary glance with her brother. Vivienne had warned John not to make a fuss, but this had all the makings of one. Still, when John opened his mouth to speak, Fiona gave a discreet shake of her head.

The guard’s lips pressed thin. He turned his head to glare at her a moment, then gestured to another guard. “Show these three into the courtyard, then take their message to the king’s chamberlain. He can decide what to do. Your men must remain outside the gate.” He spoke this last bit to Vivienne and tilted his solid chin in the direction of the Campbell men-at-arms.

Vivienne sat up, her smile demure. “Thank you.”

They dismounted and walked together under the gate into a courtyard crowded with people. Women in elaborate gowns of silk and satin, and men dressed in equal finery, and even grander accoutrements. Stares came their way, some discreet but others blatant in their perusal. Vivienne held her head high, and Fiona tried to mimic that confidence, though she was quaking inside. John’s brow showed a sheen of perspiration.

The guard instructed them to wait next to a large stone fountain intricately carved with ogres, dragons, mermaids, and unicorns, and wait they did. It was a full thirty minutes before he came back.

“My ladies, my lord, the king commands you come at once and join him in his chamber. Come this way.”

Vivienne’s smile to Fiona was triumphant as she smoothed the front of her dress.

The guard led them through the great hall, past an enormous three-sectioned fireplace, and down a maze of corridors, until at
last they came to a set of wide wooden doors. More sentries were posted there, and their guide murmured something into the ear of one. He nodded and pounded his staff against the floor twice, announcing them.

The doors swung open, and Fiona peered into the opulent room. She saw the king sitting at the head of a long table with a dozen other men gathered around him. She spotted Cedric and Tavish and Robert. Then joy burst free inside her heart, for there stood Myles, anticipation and curiosity painted on his face.

His smile broke wide when he saw her, but he glanced at the king.

James nodded. “Go greet your wife, man.”

Fiona bit back a cry of gladness as Myles strode to her side and pulled her tight against him. Relief seeped into her tired limbs. She clung fast, saying nothing. Once he knew the purpose of their mission, he might be angry, but for this moment at least, he was happy to see her.

The king and the others moved closer, and Vivienne pressed past Fiona to charm them with her smile, greeting several by name and maneuvering the group back toward the head of the table.

Fiona was grateful for Vivi’s intervention and hugged her husband for another full moment until he leaned back to cup her face in his hands. His eyes were keen with questions. “What are you doing here?”

She paused, wanting to weep at the import of what she must share, but she blinked those useless tears away and harnessed all her courage. She looked to John. “You must recall my brother.”

Myles glanced his way, and his expression grew wary. He loosened his grip on Fiona and offered a slight bow of his head.

“Of course. ’Tis a pleasure. Although these are most peculiar circumstances.”

John bowed low. “They are, indeed.”

Cedric joined them then, coming to stand next to John, eyeing him with both caution and vulnerability. Fiona could not help but look from one to the other, searching for resemblance. She could see it now, in the curve of their jaws and the tilt of the nose. Subtle, but there to anyone who might wonder.

“My lord,” John said stiffly, bowing to the earl.

“John, I am most pleased to see you.”

John’s shoulders relaxed the most miniscule amount, and Fiona blinked back another tear. How odd this moment must be for them, yet there was no time to wonder over it.

She grasped her husband’s arm. “Myles, my brother brings news which the king must hear at once. We need a private audience.”

“What is this about, Fiona?”

“I cannot say until the others are gone. Please, Myles. It is most imperative the king be informed with all due haste.”

He searched her face. “I will ask.”

She watched, along with John and Cedric, as Myles left her side and went to speak quietly with the king. John and Cedric exchanged another wary glance with each other.

James seemed more interested in Vivienne’s backside than whatever Myles might impart. Still, he waved a hand and drew the attention of them all.

“Gentlemen, leave us.”

Soon Fiona and Vivienne were left with the king, Cedric, Myles, and John. Fiona’s nausea seemed determined to return, though undoubtedly more from nerves and fatigue than from the child she carried. Still, the walls of the chamber wavered before her eyes, and she moved to grip the edge of the table. Myles returned to her side and pulled her arm through his.