Love Above All (23 page)

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Authors: Flora Speer

Tags: #romance, #romance historical, #romance action romance book series, #romance 1100s

BOOK: Love Above All
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“Then I am glad I arrived today.” Though
Quentin smiled and used a deceptively mild tone when speaking to
Ewan, an undercurrent of urgency that no intelligent man could have
missed lay beneath his polite manners. “I have vital news for King
Alexander. Ewan, will you kindly ask him if he will receive me and
my friends at once?”

“The women, too?” asked Ewan, regarding
Fionna and Janet as if they ought not to be there. “Ladies are
usually received by Queen Sybilla.”

“I must speak with the king,” Fionna said. “I
have something important to tell him.”

Quentin turned on her, his eyes blazing. She
met his ferocious glare with a deceptively innocent smile.

“Wait here,” Ewan said, and vanished into the
depths of the main entrance.

“What do you think you are doing?” Quentin
demanded of Fionna.

“I am only trying to help,” she answered in a
voice dripping with sweetness.

Quentin’s eyes narrowed, as if he distrusted
her statement. She told herself she couldn’t worry what Quentin
thought. Securing King Alexander’s protection for him was far more
important than his good opinion of her.

Behind Quentin’s shoulder, Royce grinned and
winked at her, as if to let her know she could count on him.

Ewan reappeared much more quickly than Fionna
expected.

“Ye’ll understand, ye canna all come into th’
house,” Ewan said. “‘Tis a busy place today, and a wee bit
confusin’, too. Laird Quentin, Laird Royce, and the ladies may
enter. Ah, weel, now, Cadwallon, me old friend, ye may as well come
indoors wi’ the ithers. Yes, and ye, too, Squire Braedon. But the
rest o’ yer men must remain outside.”

“In the rain?” asked Royce, raising his
eyebrows as he glanced around the mist-shrouded courtyard, where
there appeared to be no shelter from the damp weather.

“A wee bit o’ mist niver harmed a true
fightin’ man,” said Ewan.

Fionna was sure Royce’s sharp eyes had
noticed what she saw. A line of armed warriors had appeared,
possibly from a nearby barracks that was partly concealed from view
by the fog. The men were spreading out into a single line that
surrounded Royce’s troop. No threat was offered by the Scots, and
Royce’s well-trained men-at-arms sat stolidly on their horses,
awaiting an order from their lord before making a move. Royce
gestured to Sir William with one hand and the captain of his
men-at-arms calmly nodded his understanding of the signal.

Ewan ushered Quentin and his friends through
a dark entry, then led them into the great hall. As Ewan had
warned, the hall was in a state of bustling untidiness. Many of the
tapestries that usually lined the stone walls had been taken down,
and servants on ladders were removing the rest. Half a dozen
additional servants were shaking the dust from the tapestries
before folding them into large wooden chests. A group of
maidservants was packing silver trays, basins, and ewers into
sturdy baskets in preparation for the king’s departure, leaving
only the vessels that would be required for the evening meal.

On the dais at the far end of the hall an
area of calm surrounded the king, who stood alone beside the high
table, awaiting his unexpected guests. Alexander I, king of the
Scots, was tall and well-formed, with reddish hair and beard and a
piercing gaze.

“My lord.” Quentin came to a halt at the edge
of the dais. He bowed low, and so did the three men with him.
Fionna noticed that none of them went to one knee, as they would
have done before the king to whom they owed their fealty. Fionna
and Janet sank into the deep curtsies that were expected of
noblewomen everywhere.

“Delighted as I am to see you again, Lord
Quentin,” said King Alexander, “I feel certain you have not
returned to Edinburgh so quickly out of love for me. Why are you
here?”

“I’ll speak bluntly, and not waste your time
when you are so busy,” Quentin said. “My lord, I have with me two
noble ladies whose brothers are determined to kill one of them and
to force the other into an unwanted marriage to a brutal fellow. I
beg you to take them under your protection. Allow me to present to
you Lady Fionna of Dungalash, and her younger sister, Janet.”

“Dungalash, you say?” King Alexander rubbed
his chin as if thinking seriously.

Fionna guessed he was playing for time, while
he decided what response to make to Quentin’s request. And while he
decided, she would make her move.

“My lord,” she said, stepping forward a
little, “I have knowledge of my brothers’ activities along the
border that may be of use to you.”

“Have you?” King Alexander looked at her with
aroused interest.

“Fionna, be quiet!” Quentin ordered.

“No, no,” said the king. “Let her speak.
Murdoch of Dungalash has caused me trouble in the recent past.
Before I take myself off to the northern highlands to settle an
uprising there, I’d like to be sure I leave no festering problems
in the lowlands. Tell me, Lady Fionna, what have your brothers been
doing lately?”

“My lord, they have been hatching a
treasonous plot,” Fionna said. “When they realized I had overheard
them discussing their plans, they tied me up and threw me into
Liddel Water to silence me. If they knew how much I had overheard
over several days, I’m sure they’d have strangled me first, or
stabbed me, to make certain I was dead.”

“Are you claiming their scheme is serious
enough to warrant murdering their closest female kin?” the king
asked, looking surprised.

“It is,” Fionna answered.

“All of you – out!” the king called to his
servants. “Leave the hall until I tell you to return. Ewan, you
stay; I expect I’ll have need of you later, to carry out my orders,
and if you hear what Lady Fionna has to say, we can save time on
explanations.”

They waited until the menservants had climbed
down from the ladders and the maidservants had left off packing the
silver, and all of them were gone. Ewan shut the hall doors after
them.

“Now,” King Alexander said to Fionna, “tell
me everything you know of this plot.”

“Before I speak, my lord,” Fionna said, “I
will have your solemn promise to keep Quentin and his companions
secure from any harm my brothers may try to inflict on them.”

“Fionna, stop this at once!” Quentin
demanded. “I can protect myself and my friends.”

“Nevertheless,” said the king, “I owe
protection to any emissary who comes to me from another ruler. You
have my word, Lady Fionna.”

“Thank you, my lord. Also, I want your word
that you will not hold my sister at fault in the matter I am going
to reveal. Janet has spent the past ten years at Abercorn. Until
the last few days, she has lived in total ignorance of what our
brothers are planning.” By Janet’s own declaration that wasn’t
entirely true, but Fionna was hoping her sister would have the good
sense to keep quiet and not argue the point.

“In that case, Janet is absolved of blame,”
King Alexander declared. “What of you, Lady Fionna? I gather you
have known of this plot for some time. Why do you come forward
now?”

 

“I was waiting,” Fionna answered, “until I
discovered one final piece of the puzzle, so I could make sense of
the whole scheme before I fled Dungalash to try to reach Edinburgh
and warn you of it. But on that last afternoon, Gillemore caught me
listening outside the door. That’s when they decided to kill
me.”

“Which shall I hear first?” the king asked.
“The details of the plot, or the story of how Lord Quentin and
these other men became involved?”

“My lord,” Fionna said, “let me begin where
the treason starts. I am sure you know there are Scotsmen who
resent the way you have invited Normans into this country, and have
made them welcome and given them lands.”

“Those Normans are my friends,” King
Alexander stated coldly, his face growing hard at the implied
criticism.

“I do not question their loyalty to you,”
Fionna said. “But Norman customs are very different from Scottish
ways. My brothers are among the Scottish nobles who want the
Normans expelled. They believe if there is enough trouble along the
border with England, you will grow weary of dealing with constant
uprisings and send your Norman friends away.”

“They misjudge me, then,” the king said.

“Yes, they do,” Fionna agreed, “and they are
beginning to realize it. That is why they have resolved to cause a
violent incident that will most likely result in a war between
Scotland and England.”

“With the agreement that Quentin and I
recently concluded, Scotland and England ought to remain at peace
for a long time,” the king said.

“Not if King Henry’s personal ambassador, the
same man who negotiated that agreement, is murdered by Scots while
on his way back to England.”

Immediately, Fionna was aware of the tense
and absolute silence around her as Quentin and the others realized
the gravity of the claim she was making. She knew she had to
continue, to finish the story quickly, so Quentin and the king
would understand how she had been driven by fear for the two people
who were dearest to her in all the world.

“After my brothers threw me into the river,”
she said, “the current cast me up at the edge of the water, where
Lord Quentin and his friends found me. Quentin offered to take me
to England, where he was headed in some haste. As soon as he told
me his name, I knew he was the man my brothers intended to murder.
Because I owed my life to Quentin, I wanted him safely out of
Scotland and beyond harm, so I agreed to travel with him. Once we
were south of Carlisle, I left Quentin’s company and headed for
Abercorn, to try to get Janet out of that dreadful place before my
brothers did. Quentin came after me. Then Lord Royce found us.”

“You didn’t simply leave my company; you ran
away,” Quentin accused her. “Why didn’t you tell me all of this
long ago?”

“I was afraid for you,” she said. “Quentin,
you should have continued on to Wortham. If you had, you’d be
completely out of danger by now.”

When Fionna turned back to the king, she
realized he was no longer regarding her, or Quentin, either.
Alexander was looking directly at Royce, and the two men were
exchanging knowing smiles.

“You must admit, my lord, it is a fascinating
tale,” Royce murmured.

“I’m sure I haven’t heard all the details,”
the king said, “nor ever will. However, there are two questions I
want answered promptly, before I make any decision in this matter.
Why is Janet here in Edinburgh, and not still at Abercorn? And
what, Lady Fionna, is this threat of a forced marriage that you
mentioned?”

“Janet is here because Quentin and Lord Royce
and their friends helped me to rescue her,” Fionna responded.

“There’s another story I’m sure I’d enjoy
hearing,” said the king with a smile that quickly vanished into a
frown. “On the other hand, perhaps it’s better if I don’t hear it.
I have enough problems with the Church, without having to deal with
young women being removed from convents without the permission of
their male kin. Tell me about the forced marriage, instead.”

“Murdoch’s best friend is Colum of
Caithshiels,” Fionna said. “His family lands bordered
Dungalash.”

“I know that name,” the king said. “Colum
plotted against me two years ago, then fled to France when I
confiscated his lands.”

“You gave those lands to one of your Norman
friends,” Fionna added. “As a result of the confiscation, Colum
hates you with a bitter hatred. Recently, he came back to the
Scottish border. Together, he and Murdoch and Gillemore captured an
English spy, a knight named Desmond.”

“What!” Quentin exclaimed so fiercely that
Fionna turned to stare at him.

“Dear God!” muttered Cadwallon, his face
pale.

“The spy we could not locate,” King Alexander
said to Quentin, “the man we hadn’t heard from for months, whom we
decided was either dead, or safely returned to England.”

“Sir Desmond may be dead by now,” Fionna
said. “Colum, who is presently employed as a spy by the king of
France, took him to France in chains.”

“Of course,” said King Alexander, nodding his
comprehension. “My dear cousin and enemy, King Louis VI of France,
has his royal hand in the kettle. I should have known. But, Lady
Fionna, what has all of this to do with your sister?”

“Janet was to be Colum’s reward,” Fionna
said. “That’s why we had to remove her from Abercorn. Murdoch
planned to give his little sister to that brutal, perverted man.
The very sight of Colum makes my skin crawl. The thought of him
forcing Janet into his bed—” She stopped then, unable to
continue.

“Ewan,” King Alexander said, “find me two
good men who will enjoy a dangerous adventure. And order a boat
made ready to sail for France on the next tide.”

“Aye, my lord. I’ll gladly be one o’ the
men,” Ewan offered.

“No, not you. I want you at my side in the
highlands, where we face a greater problem.

“Not that this matter of a captured spy isn’t
important,” the king said to Quentin. “Since a band of Scotsmen
seized Sir Desmond, it is my duty to rescue him. With the help of
my agents in France, the men I’m sending will find him and return
him to King Henry. You may tell Henry he has my word on it.

“Thank you, my lord,” Quentin said.

“Now, in regard to your request that I offer
my protection to these two ladies,” King Alexander continued, “I
regret to say I cannot do so. It’s all I can do to provide adequate
security for my queen and her ladies. As you’ve heard, I am leaving
tomorrow to deal with a serious uprising in the highlands.
Therefore, when I depart from Edinburgh in the morning, you will
leave, too. I will provide a letter of safe-conduct that includes
all of your party, and I’ll send an armed escort with you, to see
you safely to Penrith, in Cumbria, which is far enough from
Dungalash that it’s likely Murdoch will give up his pursuit before
you reach it. Lady Fionna and her sister will go with you,” the
king finished with a quick look at Royce, who was grinning his
approval of the arrangements.

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