Kill or Be Kilt (4 page)

“I thought I heard someone out here. Ye did nae get into too much trouble, did ye?”

“If you consider trouble as sleeping in my father's chair in the study, then yes, I'm afraid that I've been badly behaved.”

His smile brought an immediate softening to his features. “Everyone knows that I got ye into your cups this eve. Your sisters would've had my head if something had befallen ye. At least ye're here and did nae wake up in a strange place like the barn.”

She regarded him with a speculative gaze. “Speaking from experience, Laird Munro?”

“Och, aye. Although I've ended up in more dire situations than a barn, I'm afraid.
Oidhche mhath
, Lady Elizabeth.”

“Good night, Laird Munro.”

She continued down the hall to her chamber and gently closed the door behind her. For a moment, she glanced around her room and then donned her nightrail, climbed into bed, and blew out the candle.

A loud sigh escaped her. She couldn't believe how wonderful she felt laying in her own bed. If she were being honest with herself, she'd have to say that she was at ease being home again under the same roof where her father and mother had raised her. Although it was difficult, she remembered a time when there were no tartans, no men in kilts, no brawny Highland lairds, and no Scotland. Life was so much simpler then.

Elizabeth had spent weeks thinking about her future, realizing perhaps it was time to go back to the place where her life had begun. She closed her eyes, needing to rest, because on the morrow, her sisters weren't going to like what she had to say.

* * *

At least some of Ian's worries were over because the women would not be underfoot. The lasses were taking their leave to Apethorpe Hall for at least a fortnight, and he would be traveling with the men to court. The sooner he paid homage to his liege, the faster he'd be back on Munro lands—free of the English.

He descended the stairs to break his fast, wondering how Walsingham had managed to live in this manor house with a wife and four daughters. Although Ian had never met the man, he held a great degree of respect for him. Any man who could survive in close quarters with five lasses under the same roof was a brave soul. When he entered the great hall, Kat, Torquil, Fagan, and Grace sat quietly at the table. The smell of oatmeal invaded Ian's senses, and he pulled out a chair.

“
Madainn mhath
,” said Fagan.
Good morning.

“Aye.” Ian had just placed his arse in the seat when Grace spoke.

“I know you were only trying to help Elizabeth last night, but—”

“Grace…” Fagan warned.

Ian scowled. “'Tis too early in the morn to hear the cackling hens.” When Grace huffed, he looked at Fagan and shrugged. “Ye need to rein in your woman.”

“Now you listen to me you big—”

“What did you do for Elizabeth?” asked Kat.

Torquil tapped Kat on the hand. “This does nae concern ye. Break your fast.”

“I heard my name. Is everything all right?” Elizabeth pulled out a chair across from Ian and beside Grace.

“How are you feeling this morning? I was worried about you,” said Grace, placing her hand on Elizabeth's shoulder.

“I'm fine.” Elizabeth waved her sister off. “If you're talking about finding me in father's study, it was nothing. Are Ruairi and Ravenna with Mary this morn?”

“Yes. We'll need to start packing soon. Ravenna wants to leave for Apethorpe Hall on the morrow after we break our fast,” said Grace.

“I'm not coming with you.”

Ian raised his eyes from his oatmeal and studied Elizabeth. Perhaps he should pick up his meal and run while he still had a chance to eat in peace. Fagan's wife had a venomous tongue on a good day. He hoped to hell Elizabeth knew what she was getting herself into.

“What do you mean you're not coming with us?”

“I'm going to court. Father and Uncle Walter made certain you and Ravenna both had the privilege. Now it's my turn. I'm eighteen. You can't deny me that. I've lived in Scotland for the past three years. I've done as you've asked. Ruairi will be my chaperone. I've had the entire journey to England to think about it.”

Fagan leaned his arm on the table. “Elizabeth, court is nay place for a lady. There are dangers that—”

“And that's why I'll have you along to protect me.” Elizabeth met Grace's eyes without flinching. “You and Ravenna chose to live in Scotland, but I'm not sure living in the Scottish Highlands or on Sutherland lands for the rest of my days should be my fate. While we're in England, I want to mingle with peers of the realm. Perhaps I'll even find a suitor. How can you deny me a chance when you met Lord Casterbrook at court? If anyone would understand, I thought it would be you.”

Ian exchanged a knowing look with Fagan. Casterbrook was dead, but Elizabeth knew nothing of her family's history or their secrets of spy craft. What the lass was asking was nothing more than a foolish endeavor. He reminded himself that she was only eighteen and didn't know any better. But Fagan was right. Court was no place for Elizabeth. He'd tried to tell her that before.

As Ian waited for Grace to put an end to her sister's madness, he dropped his spoon onto the table when he heard Grace's surprising words.

“I don't necessarily agree, but yes, you should go to court.”

Elizabeth wasn't proud to admit it, but she'd taken the coward's way out and successfully avoided her family, lingering in the parlor for a few hours. When she grew tired of that, she ambled along the paths in the gardens. Of course, she'd counted on Grace telling Ravenna about the little declaration she'd made at the morning meal, but Elizabeth wasn't ready to confront both her sisters so soon. She'd learned long ago that Ravenna and Grace were easier to address each individually.

But now, Elizabeth was trapped.

She sat behind the closed doors of her father's study, but this time she wasn't sleeping in his chair and didn't have Ian's “water of life” to dull her senses. To her dismay, she was facing Ravenna and was flanked by Grace. When the feeling that she was a small girl getting scolded in her father's study washed over her, she reminded herself that she was no longer a child. She was a woman, and she had every right to speak her mind to her sisters, who also never minded their own tongues.

Ravenna leaned back in the chair behind the desk and picked an imaginary piece of lint from her purple day dress. But when she cast Elizabeth the kind of smile that was surely to be the calm before the raging storm, Elizabeth knew better than to think she was safe from her sister's wrath. Ravenna always had a way of showing her disapproval without even speaking a single word.

“I know why I'm here. Can you stop delaying the inevitable and say what you need to say?”

“This decision was rather sudden. Wouldn't you agree?” asked Ravenna.

“I've thought about it the entire journey home.”

“Court can be a very dangerous place for a girl who knows nothing about it.”

“And that's why I'll have your husband along as my chaperone.”

Grace cleared her throat. “Fagan and Laird Munro will also be accompanying her, Ravenna. Fagan would never let anything happen to our sister because he knows he'd have to deal with me. Furthermore, you've seen Laird Munro. The beastly man would frighten away anyone who'd even think about causing her harm, not that she'd be hurt with so many people in attendance. Why would you deny Elizabeth a chance to go to court, especially with Ruairi as her chaperone?”

Ravenna's eyes flashed a gentle but firm warning. “You know why.”

Elizabeth studied her sisters back and forth. “Are you two ever going to tell me the truth about what happened with Daniel? I know you're withholding something. You can tell me. I'm not a child anymore.”

“She's not, Ravenna. Elizabeth and Kat have been living in the Highlands. When you wed Ruairi, the girls didn't have a choice but to come to Scotland. Granted, I wed Fagan and made my decision, but I still had an option to stay in England or to reside in Scotland. Don't you think Elizabeth should be given the same opportunity? What if her future husband is here in England? I know our parents would've been delighted if one of their daughters married a peer of the realm, as they'd intended for all of us to do.”

Elizabeth touched her sister's arm. “Grace, thank you, but I'm capable of speaking for myself.” She turned to Ravenna. “You've done so much for us, and I appreciate all that you've sacrificed to keep our family together. You've been more of a mother to Kat and me since our parents died all those years ago. But now you have Ruairi, Mary, and a family of your own.”

Ravenna leaned forward. “You are my family.”

“I know, Sister, but I'm not sure that I want to remain on Scottish soil for the rest of my days.”

“Is that what this is about? Ruairi and I have no intention of arranging a marriage for you now. When you're ready, I'll—”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No, this isn't about arranging a marriage for me at all. Please don't misunderstand me. I love Scotland, but I love England too. I miss our old home and want to be around girls my own age for a change. I know my decision to go to court was rather abrupt, but I'm tired of seeing bloody tartans everywhere. If you haven't noticed, that's why I've been wearing our English dress. Now that we're back in England, I want to attend the theatre and do everything that I've not been able to do in Scotland.”

When a laugh escaped Grace, Elizabeth's temper flared. She should've known the luck she'd had with her sister had run out.

“And what do you find so comical?” asked Ravenna.

Grace smiled from ear to ear. “I have more in common with Elizabeth than I'd thought.”

Ravenna sighed and squeezed her fingers over the bridge of her nose. “God help me.”

* * *

“What did ye say?” Ian ran his hand through his hair and then pulled out his flask and took a swig. He kept his drink on Walsingham's desk, needing to keep it in plain sight for easy reach, or to beat Ruairi over the head.

“Ye heard me.”

“Why the hell would ye agree to take her to court?”

Ruairi shrugged. “The women and Torquil will take their leave to Apethorpe Hall for a fortnight, and in the meantime, there is nay reason why we can nae escort Elizabeth. We have to attend, and she wants to come along. Ye donna have to do anything. The lass will be in my charge. Besides, ye should be grateful 'tis Elizabeth and nae Grace who will be accompanying us.”

“I know that I should be offended,” said Fagan. “But I suppose ye both know my wife well enough to say those words.” He paused. “I did try to deter Elizabeth, but—”

“Ye did nae try hard enough. The English court is nay place for a lass, especially one as young as Elizabeth,” said Ian.

Fagan slapped Ian on the shoulder with an expression of pained tolerance. “Mayhap ye have nae taken notice, Munro, but Elizabeth is eighteen now. Most lasses are wed at her age.”

“And most lasses donna have family who are…er, were spies for the Crown.”

Ruairi took a swig from Ian's flask. “Howbeit Elizabeth is part of the English aristocracy. 'Tis her birthright to experience such madness for herself. More to the point, nay one would dare come near her with ye standing by her side, Munro.”

Ian wagged his finger at Ruairi. “Wait a moment. I heard ye with my own ears. I donna have to do a damn thing, and I'm holding ye to that.” He grabbed the flask back and then pointed it at Ruairi. “And I hope ye brought more
uisge beatha
with ye because we're going to need it. I will nae drink that watery piss at court that these English let pass for ale. I require a man's drink.”

Ruairi chuckled. “We had to journey from the Highlands to London with four English women and a wee lassie. I brought more than enough. And Elizabeth will nae be any trouble. We'll only need to keep the wolves at bay.”

“So says the man who let an English spy into his home.”

“Ye know Ravenna has retired from service,” said Fagan.

“So says the man whose wife brought mercenaries onto our lands.”

Ruairi held up his hands in defense. “Need I remind ye that Mildmay and my wife, being in favor with the king, are the reason ye did nae have to attend court for years?”

“Aye, but I'm here now.”

Fagan scowled. “Ye're in a foul mood, Ian. How long has it been since ye've tupped a woman, eh? Mayhap a courtly harlot is what ye need to improve your miserable demeanor.”

“Bastard.”

“Aye.”

Needing to find air that his friends did not breathe, Ian made his way out into the garden with his flask in hand. He sat on a bench and was brooding beside a rosebush when Elizabeth stumbled upon him from the garden path.

“Laird Munro, I didn't see you there. Where are Ruairi and Fagan?” When she noticed the displeased expression on his face, she added, “Oh, I'm afraid I've seen that look before. Are my sisters driving you mad, or Ruairi and Fagan?”

He chuckled and took a swig. “How verra observant of ye, lass.”

She approached him and gestured to the bench. “May I?”

“Aye.”

“Do you want to tell me what's troubling you?” When he took too long to respond, she spoke again, changing the subject. “What do you think of our Scadbury Manor? I know our home is much smaller than your own.”

“Ye have a fine home and should be proud, Lady Elizabeth. And donna mind my foul mood. I find myself brooding every time I cross the English border.” He also could have added “Sutherland border,” but knew it was best to keep that thought silent.

She returned a smile. “Come now, Laird Munro. Do you truly find our company so dreadful?” When he didn't respond to another one of her questions, she stood. “I'd like to show you something.”

All he wanted to do was stay on the bench with his drink to accompany him, but at the last moment, he reluctantly agreed to follow Elizabeth through the garden. They continued over the drawbridge and turned right onto a dirt path in the woods. “Where are we going, lass?”

“Do ye always question everything?” When she spoke the words in a Scottish accent, he laughed.

“Ye best keep to your King's English, Lady Elizabeth.”

“Was I that terrible?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Aye.”

As they followed the trail through the trees, the forest closed in around them. Ian rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, knowing better than to lower his guard. His eyes darted back and forth through the thicket as Elizabeth slowed her pace beside him. He couldn't stay the nagging feeling that someone or something was watching them from the shadows of the trees. His instincts were usually right, especially when the little hairs were sticking up on the back of his neck.

A shrill scream pierced the air.

* * *

A fallow deer jumped onto the path, and Ian withdrew his sword.

Elizabeth covered her mouth, but it was too late. When she spotted the animal, a laugh escaped her. “Are you still hungry, Laird Munro? I could always ask the cook to prepare more food for you.”

He sheathed his weapon. “Your screams did nae help matters. Ye may think ye're comical, lass, but let me assure ye that ye're nae.”

“The deer startled me. Please accept my apologies.” She turned her head away to hide her smile.

They walked into a clearing and followed the dirt path up a hill. When they reached the top, she gestured to the view before her. “Isn't it beautiful? This was what I wanted to show you.”

The open lands that encircled the pond were covered with grasses and other soft, green plants. As a hawk glided fluidly through the air, she stole a glance at Ian. He stood tall, unwavering, and his expression remained impassive.

“I know the water is nothing in comparison to your Scottish lochs, but I thought you'd enjoy the view nevertheless.”

He finally graced her with a smile. “Thank ye, Lady Elizabeth. Your thoughtfulness means a great deal to me. Did ye come here as a child? I mean to say, before ye came to Scotland.”

“Yes, I often came here with my sisters and have many fond memories of this very spot. Not that you'd be interested, but wildflowers grow in the valley below during the late summer solstice. We used to pick them for my mother's table.”

“Why did ye come all this way and nae pick the blooms from your mother's own garden?”

“I think my mother enjoyed when my sisters and I were away from the house at times. She would ask us to do tasks around my father's lands, often coming up with ideas to keep us occupied so we wouldn't be causing mischief, especially Grace and Ravenna.” Elizabeth gave him a knowing look. “But I'm not certain her efforts worked because one of us was usually in trouble.”

There was a heavy silence.

“Would nae ye rather travel with your sisters to pay your respects to your aunt on the morrow? I'm certain she'd want to visit with ye after Mildmay… 'Tis nae too late to change your mind.” As if he was guarding a secret, his expression was closed.

“Why, Laird Munro? Do you want me to change my mind?”

He shrugged, casually resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. “I know ye are nae going to favor court, lass. Men and women are there for a purpose. They seek the king's favor and will nae think twice about stabbing anyone in the back to get it.”

She leaned toward him and spoke in a low tone, as if she was telling him a secret of her own. “Truth be told, I'm not worried. What could possibly go wrong? I'll have three Highland warriors there to protect me from the vultures and to see that no one stabs me in the back. Besides, I'm not going to seek His Majesty's favor.” She met his eyes and smiled. “I'm going to dance.”

He chuckled.

“Do you dance, Laird Munro?”

“Nae even under the threat of death. We'd better return before darkness falls.”

As Elizabeth walked back to the manor house with Ian by her side, she felt as though she was in a wonderful dream and didn't want to wake up. Her eyes wandered from his handsome face down his massive frame. She'd spent endless nights picturing times like these in her mind. That's another reason why she wanted to attend court. She needed to move forward with her life and couldn't keep dwelling on something that could never be.

They continued silently on the dirt path. No sooner did they cross the drawbridge when Ravenna approached.

“Elizabeth, may I speak with you for a moment?”

“Yes, of course. Pray excuse me, Laird Munro.”

“Aye.”

They had taken a few steps away from Ian when Ravenna asked, “Where did you go with Laird Munro?” Her sister had a curious expression on her face.

“He was brooding in the garden so I decided to take him to the pond. He doesn't favor being in England, as if we didn't know that already. But I thought seeing the water might remind him of his home.”

“Laird Munro is a grown man. You do not have to entertain him. He may not favor being in England, but he has to perform many duties as a Scottish laird that I'm sure he doesn't like to do.”

Elizabeth changed the subject, not wanting to hear another one of her sister's lectures. “What did you want to speak with me about?” When they entered the house and climbed the steps to the bedchambers, Elizabeth felt slight relief that she wasn't being escorted to her father's study to face another inquisition.