Kill or Be Kilt (5 page)

“It shouldn't take long for our trunks to be secured in the morn. Are you certain you don't want to travel to Apethorpe Hall with us? I'm sure Aunt Mary would love to see you again.”

Elizabeth stared at her sister with rounded eyes. “Have you been speaking with Laird Munro?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because he said something similar to me at the pond.”

“I have never doubted Laird Munro is a wise man,” said Ravenna under her breath, but loud enough for Elizabeth to hear.

“Pardon?”

Her sister wisely didn't respond. They entered Ravenna's bedchamber, and their mother's portrait hung above the mantel of the stone fireplace. Ruairi's plaid and Mary's blanket were resting on a chair in the sitting area, and the sight warmed Elizabeth's heart. She was reminded that the strong Highland laird had a softer side that he didn't want many people to know about.

“I have something for you,” said Ravenna.

Elizabeth approached the bed that had tall, carved corner posts and counterpanes of gold cloth. The color was the reason she'd almost missed the dress. A beautiful golden gown was adorned with a laced bodice and had long, tight sleeves, armbands, a ribbon waistband, and a wheel farthingale.

“The dress is lovely.”

“I was hoping you'd like it because we don't have time to buy you a new wardrobe.” Ravenna paused. “Well, don't just stand there. Try on the gown.”

Her sister didn't need to ask twice. Elizabeth removed her day dress, and Ravenna assisted her to don the garment. “You look beautiful. I wore the same gown when I attended court years ago. Come over here and see yourself in the looking glass.” Ravenna piled Elizabeth's hair on the top of her head. “You look elegant—beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Elizabeth turned from side to side. “I feel as though I'm a princess and belong at court. Perhaps I'll meet my prince.”

“I'm not sure the kind of man you desire will be found at court, but I do have a few other dresses that I'll give you to take along.” Ravenna let Elizabeth's tresses fall and smoothed Elizabeth's hair away from her shoulders.

“I know you don't want me to go to court, but thank you for understanding…and for the dresses.”

“You're quite welcome, but there is something else that I wish to discuss before you go.”

“You're not going to change my mind.”

“That's not my intention.” Ravenna sat on the bed and patted her hand on the feather mattress. “As my husband would say, ye and I need to have a wee chat.”

Elizabeth sat on the bed.

“When you arrive at court, please make certain you're accompanied by Ruairi, Fagan, or Laird Munro at all times. Never wander anywhere alone. Give me your word.”

“Ravenna…”

“Please hear me out. For instance, if a man asks you to walk with him in the gardens, especially at night, politely decline. You never want to place yourself in a situation that you cannot immediately walk away from. Men, especially men at court, will say anything to get a woman alone. Perhaps they only desire to steal a kiss, but sometimes they want far more from a woman than she's willing to give. Men should never take anything from a woman that is not offered, even a kiss. Do you understand?”

Elizabeth forced a demure smile to appease her protective sister.

“And there's something else.” Ravenna approached her trunk and lifted the lid. She pulled out a cloth and returned to the bed. Unfolding the material on the mattress, she uncovered a shiny dagger. She handed the blade to Elizabeth, hilt first.

“What is this?” When a puzzled look crossed her sister's face, Elizabeth added, “I know what this is, but why are you giving it to me?”

Ravenna slowly lifted her skirts and gestured down to her leg. A matching blade was strapped to her thigh. “Grace and I both carry a dagger, and now is the time for you to have one too.”

“I've seen you and Grace throwing blades at mock targets, but why do you both carry daggers underneath your skirts?”

“Father taught me how to defend myself years ago. He insisted that I carried a blade, especially if I was attending court. In turn, I taught Grace how to protect herself, and now she carries one too.”

“You do know that our sister's aim is terrible.”

“I didn't say she was perfect.” Ravenna stood and walked again in front of the looking glass. “Come over here for a moment.” When Elizabeth reached her sister, Ravenna pulled her dagger from under her skirts. “We leave on the morrow, and unfortunately, I don't have ample time to teach you. But let me show you something that may save your life.”

“If the men are my escort, why would I ever need to draw a blade?”

“Because if there is ever any trouble that cannot be avoided, the last any man would expect is for you to be hiding a weapon under your dress. But the
only
time you are to unsheathe that dagger is when your life is in peril. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. And when you pull out the blade, you do not hesitate. You aim for the heart.” Ravenna pointed her blade at Elizabeth's chest. “Here…”

“Ravenna, I am not going to stab anyone in the heart. I don't think I could.”

There was a flicker of awareness in Ravenna's eyes. “You'd be astonished what you can do when your life is threatened, but there is a quicker way to bring a man to his knees.”

“Other than stabbing him through the heart, you mean?” Elizabeth couldn't stay the sarcasm that escaped her mouth.

“Yes.”

“And what is that?”

“Grab him by the bollocks and don't let go.”

As Elizabeth walked down the hall from her bedchamber, she thought back to the conversation she'd had last eve with Ravenna. To say that her sister's words had troubled her wouldn't begin to describe the uncertainty Elizabeth felt. She was supposed to be a lady and didn't think many women of title wielded a dagger, let alone concealed one under their gown strapped to their thigh.

But she could be wrong.

Ravenna had shown Elizabeth how to fasten the blade so that she'd be able to secure it by herself at court, and her sister had done the task fluently. Perhaps times were changing, and women were becoming more self-sufficient, not needing a man to protect them. A male voice startled her from behind as she descended the stairs.

“Good morn, Lady Elizabeth.”

She stopped, glancing over her shoulder. “And the same to you, Laird Munro. Did you sleep well?”

“As well as can be expected.” When they reached the bottom of the stairs, he faced her. “Did ye have a chance to think about my words?” When she gave him a confused look, he added, “Will ye be traveling with your sisters to see your aunt this morn?”

She gave him a patient smile and tapped her fingers on his arm. “Not this day, Laird Munro. Not this day.” She stepped around him and walked into the great hall where everyone, except Ian, was seated to break their fast. “Good morn.”

“So it's true. You're not coming with us to see Aunt Mary,” said Kat.

Elizabeth pulled out her chair as Ian sat across from her. “Yes, I will be traveling with the men to court.” She didn't miss it when Ian stiffened at the table.

“Will I have to go to court, too? Not now, but I mean to say in a few years.”

“Katherine, you're only twelve. You will not be attending anytime soon,” said Ravenna in a clipped tone.

“Why would ye even think about going there, lass? I'm sure those English lads are nae as enjoyable as me,” said Torquil, poking Kat in the ribs with his elbow.

“All right, all right. I've heard enough talk about court. I think that's all I can bear,” said Ravenna. She turned to Ruairi. “Are you certain you're not willing to take all of them with you? Perhaps I can change your mind. Will you accept a bribe? You only need to name your price.”

He chuckled. “I'm nae that foolish, lass.”

“Ravenna told me she gave you a few of her gowns to take along,” said Grace. “I'm sure you'll look beautiful. Ruairi will more than likely have to keep all your suitors at bay—well, the unsavory sorts anyway.”

Elizabeth swallowed her oatmeal. “I'm not sure about that, but the dresses are beautiful.” She thought about bringing up the subject of the dagger but then decided against it. This was probably not the time or the place to discuss such matters, and besides, Ruairi and Fagan already knew what lay under their wives' skirts. But being that Kat was only twelve, Elizabeth was pretty certain she wasn't aware of their older sisters' peculiar dress habits.

“I do hope, Elizabeth, that ye did nae pack as much as my wife,” said Fagan. “We need another coachman just to carry her trunks.”

Grace playfully slapped her husband on the arm. “How can you speak such lies about me? You know perfectly well that we need another coachman just to carry the whisky for the men.”

Fagan shrugged. “There may be some truth to that.”

After everyone finished their meals, Elizabeth stood in the front hall holding her niece as the men brought heavy trunks down the stairs to pack onto the carriages for the journey to Aunt Mary's. When little Mary squealed with delight, Elizabeth glanced down. She couldn't believe how fast her niece was growing. In a few months, Mary would be taking her first steps.

“I'm hoping Fagan and I will have a child of our own soon—although, the man doesn't seem to be in any hurry to be a father. I think all the women under the Sutherland roof dissuade him. He doesn't want to tempt fate,” said Grace.

“Fagan loves you. I'm certain he'd love your child no matter what the gender.”

“I know you're right.”

“I haven't had the chance to thank you, Grace.”

A puzzled expression crossed her sister's face. “For what may I ask?”

“For helping me talk Ravenna into letting me attend court. I don't know why you did what you did for me, but I do appreciate your words.”

Grace led Elizabeth gently by the arm over to the far wall and then lowered her voice. “No one understands better than I do how you feel. I was fascinated when I first attended court, but I'm happier now with Fagan by my side. Ravenna and I had a chance to decide for ourselves which path we wanted to take. I want the same for you and Kat. Whatever you choose, England or Scotland, I will always support you. Don't forget that.”

Elizabeth smiled with sincerity. “Thank you.”

“If you would've given us notice, we could've had new gowns made for you. But you're going to look beautiful in Ravenna's dresses.” Grace glanced around and then spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “I know our sister spoke with you about the daggers.”

“Yes.”

“Promise me that you'll heed Ravenna's advice. Wear the blade at all times. The men will watch over you, but remember that you can't be placing yourself in situations that you cannot remove yourself from.”

“Ravenna said the same to me last night.”

“Our sister is wise. Be cautious, Elizabeth. I can't stress that enough.”

The way Ravenna and Grace kept telling her to be safe and not to be foolish made Elizabeth wonder if there was something more to their odd behavior, or if this was simply her sisters being too protective. Grace's voice broke her woolgathering.

“I'm sure you're going to have a grand time. I hope that you'll find a handsome suitor, one who sweeps you off your feet in a dance, and one who makes you forget all about Laird Munro.”

Elizabeth gasped. “I don't—”

“Your words do not fool me.” Grace leaned in close. “The man does not return your interest; therefore, he does not deserve your love. There are men who are far younger and much more pleasing to the eye than that hardened Scotsman. You'll discover that at court.”

Elizabeth stood in awe as her sister walked out the front door.

* * *

Ian breathed a sigh of relief when the last coach rode over the drawbridge with the Sutherland guards in tow. At least three women and a wee lass were no longer underfoot. But now the worst part of his trip to England was about to begin, and he wasn't looking forward to it in the least. Who the hell would want to travel to the English court and appear before the king? That had to be a fate worse than death. He also wasn't in favor of being among so many English. At least Ruairi and Fagan were along to share in the misery.

Fagan and Ian mounted their horses as they waited for Ruairi and Elizabeth. Hampton Court Palace was a day's ride from Scadbury Manor. Of course, they'd have to stay at court since the palace was too far to travel from the manor house. Ian gave pause, thinking perhaps he should've journeyed with the women and Torquil to see Aunt Mary too.

Elizabeth lingered by the front door of the house, and he hoped she was having second thoughts about coming along. But to his dismay, Ruairi escorted her to the waiting coach.

“Is everything all right?” asked Ruairi.

“Yes, I just wanted to be certain that I didn't forget anything.”

“Lass, this is the last time I'm going to ask ye.”

Elizabeth stepped around him. “For heaven's sake, yes, I'm certain that I want to go.” She climbed into the coach and closed the door in Ruairi's face.

“I donna think there's anything we can say or do to change her mind,” said Fagan, as Ruairi was approaching them.

Ruairi grabbed the reins of his mount. “We're wed to Walsinghams. Have ye ever been able to change their minds about anything?” When Fagan took a moment to think about his friend's words, Ruairi added, “I did nae think so.”

Ian laughed. “And that's why I'll ne'er be wed. I did warn both of ye besotted fools.”

They followed the carriage over the drawbridge and out the gates. To the right was the dirt path where he had walked the evening before with Elizabeth. He was amazed the lass had thought of him and wanted to show him more of her father's lands. Although it wasn't too difficult to see how much he missed his own lands, his home—Scotland. He felt as if he was caught in a nightmare and couldn't wake up. Then again, he always felt that way when he traveled to England.

“Was your wife able to pull her favor with the king and grant us an earlier audience? Mayhap he'll see us on the morrow, and we'll be able to take our leave with haste,” said Ian.

Aloofness showed in Ruairi's face. “Ye know verra well how the king enjoys watching the Highland lairds suffer. He'll keep us waiting for as long as possible, only to torture us. 'Tis his way of trying to get us to heel like dogs. Best ye get used to that now.”

“Damn.”

“Mayhap ye can take that opportunity to seek out a willing lass or two, Munro,” said Fagan. “Then again, it may take ye that long to find just one.”

“Bastard.”

Fagan chuckled. “Aye. Dinna fash. We brought plenty of whisky, and we'll be back in Scotland before ye know it.”

No sooner did Ian open his mouth to tell Fagan that he didn't believe a word he said when the coach stopped. Elizabeth opened the door and stepped down from the carriage.

“I need to search my trunk,” she called to them. “I think I forgot my silk slippers.”

What Ian wouldn't give to be home again.

* * *

The men certainly weren't pleased with her, but they were not that far from Scadbury Manor. They could have easily turned around if Elizabeth had forgotten the slippers that Ravenna had given her to match her gown. Fortunately, they did not need to return.

Ruairi and Fagan returned the trunk to the carriage and secured the bindings as Ian continued to scowl at her. The man could be irritated with her all he wanted. She'd be making her first appearance at court. Her clothes needed to be in perfect order, and she refused to be the one who tarnished the Walsingham family name. She wanted to make her sisters, uncle, and her mother and father proud.

It wasn't long before she once again sat in the coach and nestled into the seat. With the sound of hoofbeats and the gentle, rhythmic movement, she should've been able to fall asleep, but she couldn't. She was wide awake and eager to experience all that court had to offer.

The hours dragged, and one mile faded into the next. Being confined in the carriage was suffocating enough, especially when she had no one to talk with to pass the time. They'd stopped along the way to rest the horses, but every waking moment managed to feel eternal.

Elizabeth's mood turned buoyant when they finally arrived at London Bridge, roughly the middle between Scadbury Manor and Hampton Court Palace. At least they were getting closer. Large buildings sat on top almost the entire length of the magnificent structure. She stared in awe, resolving never to undervalue the skills of a mason.

When they reached the end of the bridge, a gasp escaped her, and her body stiffened in shock. She closed her eyes, trying to banish the image of the two heads impaled on long spikes as a warning to all those who conspired against the realm. She supposed there was a reason the end of the bridge was named Traitors' Gate.

Her fingers tensed on her lap, and her mind was consumed with doubts and fears. Although she was eager to attend court, she ought to remember that men and women of great power and influence would also be in attendance.

Ravenna and Grace were right.

Elizabeth needed to be careful, praying her head wouldn't be joining the other two on the road they'd just passed.

The sun was starting to set. They'd traveled the entire day, and the gates of the palace still weren't in sight. She gazed out of the carriage for the hundredth time, watching pieces of wood floating in the strong currents of the River Thames. Ironically, she could relate to the sight before her. She was being swept toward a future that was unclear and unknown.

When the coach abruptly stopped, she sat up. Ruairi, Fagan, and Ian rode to the front of the carriage, and a wave of apprehension swept through her. She was both thrilled and frightened.

Finally, she'd arrived at Hampton Court Palace.

After a few restless moments, the coach rolled forward. They continued through the first courtyard and stopped at the second inner gatehouse. The carriage door opened, and Elizabeth stepped down.

A large astronomical clock made for Henry VIII hung over the gatehouse. The piece showed the date, time of day, phases of the moon, and the water level at the London Bridge.

She gave herself a pinch because she couldn't believe she was standing on the grounds of royal history. King James was the son of Mary, Queen of Scots, and the great-grandson of Henry VIII, but now here she was, Lady Elizabeth Walsingham, attending court. She'd soon be walking through the same halls as kings and queens of past and present.

Ruairi, Fagan, and Ian were talking with two men as she approached, and Ruairi's voice was irritated. “I suppose we donna have a choice.” When he turned around, Fagan and Ian grabbed their mounts.

Uncertainty made Elizabeth's voice harsh and demanding. “What has happened?”

“I'm sorry, lass. There are one thousand people attending court, and the palace only has forty-four bedchambers. There is nae enough room for everyone. Ravenna was able to send word ahead, and even though there is a bedchamber readied for ye, there is nae room for all of us,” said Ruairi. “Lodging has been made for us in the city. We best make haste before darkness falls.”

When he started to lead his mount away, she called after him. “Where are you going?”

A puzzled look crossed his face. “I told ye.”

She closed the distance between them. “But aren't you going to see me to my chamber before you leave?”