Maiden of Inverness (5 page)

“A message? But the king expects to
see
the Maiden. He said as much when we left the parliament at Saint Andrews.”

Never had Revas lied to his sovereign. Through Robert Bruce, Scotland would break the bonds of English dominion. The Maiden was an integral part of that plan.

Skirting the truth was his best choice. “Have Randolph tell him that the voyage has visited ill humors on my wife.”

Sutherland clucked his tongue. “ 'Tis partly true.”

And wholly unfortunate for Revas Macduff. “Send my regrets and invite the king to Auldcairn Castle for Midsummer's Eve.”

“Two months? 'Tis wise, Revas, for 'twill give you time to tame her.”

“Worry not, friend, for she'll better accept her circumstances on the morrow.”

But she didn't.

When Meridene emerged from the companionway, she gave Revas a cold stare, then sought solitude near the bow. He deserved her anger. He intended to combat it with kindness and reason. But now he was momentarily content to simply admire her.

She'd donned the warmest of the cloaks he'd provided, an ankle-length garment of miniver, fashioned with the tanned hides turned inside out. The hides had been worked to suppleness, then dyed a pale leaf green and further embellished with a border of interlocking cinquefoils, the device of the Maiden. The color complemented her forest-hued eyes, and the soft fur accentuated the delicacy of her skin.

She'd braided her glorious black hair and coiled it at the nape of her neck. When a gust of wind whipped around her, she drew up the hood of the cloak and continued to stare at the horizon. Standing just so, she looked like a queen ready to bless a fleet, rather than a wife eager to desert her vows.

Since pledging his troth to her, he'd dedicated every waking hour to unifying Scotland. In contrast, she'd made a vocation of loathing it. Even in her dreams, she cursed her homeland, and when the visions grew too horrid, she cried out in her sleep for help.

Last night she'd awakened him with her screams, but a bolted door had prevented him from comforting her. Soon he'd lie beside her, and when those dark dreams visited her, he'd hold her in his arms and face the demons with her. In their waking hours, he'd bind her to the Highlands again and teach her to love the people who awaited her return.

His heart ached for the young Maiden who'd been so mistreated that she hated her country. Revas prayed that he could make her feel safe, for he believed her hatred stemmed from that fear.

With a tenderness that was bittersweet, he admitted that he revered her, too, and overmuch, for he grew distressed to see her so unhappy at the thought of returning home. She had a right, he was certain, for her memories were painful and her experiences ghastly. His abduction must seem horrid to her in the extreme.

Life had been cruel to his beautiful Scottish princess, and while he could not undo the past, he could assure her future. At his side, she would prosper, and in return, she would ease his loneliness and help him achieve his destiny. She'd reign over the Highlands with the skill of the first Maiden, her namesake. Matching the prowess of that woman's mate promised a challenge that Revas welcomed. Oh, yes. They were in for a merry time, he thought with a smile.

When he'd looked his fill, he approached her. Taking her arm, he said, “Good day, my lady.”

She jerked out of his grasp. “Worry not that I contemplate jumping into the sea. I will not forfeit my life for Scotland.”

Resigned that he'd made no progress, Revas started again. “For what, then, will you risk your life?”

She turned her face to the wind, her eyes glittering like emeralds in the sun. “For the chance to return to England.”

“Achieving your destiny and returning to England are different sides of the same coin.”

Her delicate brows arched in confusion, and she tilted her head to the side. “You've become a Highland philosopher. How singular.”

The insult bounced off Revas like pebbles hurled at a battle shield. Reminding her of her duty had produced drastic results. He must guide her, steer her gently, then lead her where she truly wanted to go. “Nay. 'Tis only that I had not expected you to deprive yourself of volition. I expected more intelligence.”

On a half laugh, she scoffed. “You'll make a fine king of the Highlands. The people deserve a trickster like you.”

He grinned, but his mind was a tangle of doubts. He had truly thought flattery would draw her out. A foolish error on his part. “Does that mean you'll get me the sword?”

“No. But I relish seeing you delude yourself.”

Be patient, he told himself. She was justified in her anger, and he faced certain defeat in challenging her again. Tricking her was something else altogether. “I anticipate a much more rewarding association with you.”

She gave him a withering glare. “Then you have a perverse imagination.”

Sensing that she tiptoed close to his verbal trap, he threw out the bait. “Because I ask that you weigh your options?”

Peering over the side, she followed the progress of a family of seals. “Weigh my options? I cannot, for they were not of my choosing.”

“Options seldom are, else we'd never have the supreme joy of facing a quandary.”

She peered up at him, her interest seriously engaged. He'd forfeit his favorite retreat to Sheriff Brodie for a conversational reply from her.

“Do you embrace strife, Revas?”

Good-bye, hunting lodge, he thought, and said what was in his heart. “I'd rather embrace you.”

She blushed, and he held her gaze, even when she would have looked away. Come out and play, Meridene, he silently willed her.

“No.”

At least she hadn't said never. He must be making progress.

Ready to give back to her, he relaxed. “I've forgotten the question.”

The fur lining of her cape fluttered around her face, the snowy miniver a perfect foil for her jet eyelashes. She almost smiled. “You were trying without success to get me to weigh my options.”

He wanted to whoop with joy. He'd led her exactly where he wanted her to go. “Scotland is an option.”

She stiffened. “An unacceptable one.”

“How do you know? You haven't set foot in the Highlands in thirteen years.”

She touched her breastbone. “And I have thrived.”

She had, indeed. Now he intended to see her prosper. “Do you possess a mount, Meridene?”

Confusion lent an earthy aspect to her regal beauty. “Yes.”

“Did you select the horse yourself?”

“Of course.” She stared up at the lookout. “It did not fall out of the sky.”

“If I told you a fine mare was available for purchase, if I sang her praises and extolled her virtues, would you not be curious to judge for yourself? Or would you reject the beast out of hand?”

She faced him squarely. “If you recommended the beast, I would reject it out of hand.”

With regret, he admitted the small defeat. But he'd never been accused of cowardice. “Your mind is narrow.”

She huffed. “Your ploy is obvious.”

Suddenly enjoying himself again, he leaned against a water barrel. “Enlighten me, then, as to my ploy.”

“ 'Tis simple. Now that you've taken me captive, you will ignore the cruelty of your actions. You will take me to your home and wait me out. You think to woo me with your charm and enthrall me with your masculine appeal.”

He couldn't help saying, “So you think I am appealing?”

On a half laugh, she said, “I'm angry, Revas, not blind.”

He savored the compliment, for he instinctively knew she would not often praise him. Not until she fell in love with him. “Do you remember the last time we saw each other?”

“Certainly. You barged into my room and took me against my will.”

Tried patience nicked at his decorum. “Before that time.”

“Yes. I was eight years old and straining to keep from retching on the king of England.”

His heart went out to that valiant girl, but if he showed any weakness, the mature woman would take advantage. He must find a balance between both. “I understand. I expected the king to hang me before sunset.”

Her eyes drifted out of focus. “You did?”

“Aye. I even forgot to wear my shoes.”

Her expression softened. “My apologies. I didn't see—I hadn't—”

“Thought about what I was feeling that day?”

“No. I was too ill and beset with worry for myself.”

“Have you thought of it since?”

“Not in a very long time.”

She had, though, and he took that small gift to heart. “You pledged your troth to me. The people of Elginshire witnessed the ceremony.”

“They matter not. What of the people in England whom I call friends?”

“Invite them to visit us at our home.”

Stubbornness had her in its grip. “I do not wish to be your wife.”

“I do not wish to grow old, either,” he said reasonably. “But I cannot stop the clock of time.”

She gave him a quelling look that probably sent servants scurrying for cover. “Age cannot be annulled. Our marriage can.”

Dissolving the marriage was out of the question. “We were chosen for each other.”

She tugged at her gloves. “You want a legend, Revas.”

He couldn't resist laying a hand on her shoulder. “I want you, Meridene.”

Glancing at his fingers, she murmured, “You are eager to become a husband and father?”

The subject of children was a dangerous one and best generalized for now. “ 'Tis a man's duty to God.”

A knowing smile curled her lips. “But first you must take up the sword of Chapling.”

Chapling. It was an ancient term, perfectly chosen by the first Maiden of Inverness to symbolize the unity her marriage wrought. The sword had been her gift to her husband. The details of their blessed lives were chronicled in the Covenant. As always, the sentiment made Revas's chest grow tight. “Aye. I will take up the sword and uphold the legend—”

“Aha! I said as much. 'Tis not me you want, but a prophecy.”

That took the wind from his sails.

“Do not apologize,” she went on. “ 'Tis a meaningless symbol. What would prevent me from demanding the sword and giving it to you in exchange for passage back to England?”

His own ambition, Revas thought. He could rule the Highlands without the ceremonial sword in his scabbard and the Maiden at his side, but he'd have to conquer Clan Macgillivray first. He wanted unity through peace, and he could not achieve it without her. “I'll tell you what prevents you from demanding your birthright: fear and loathing of your father.”

Said plainly, his truthful comment had the desired effect: She dropped the facade of indifference. Earnestly she said, “You think you know so much, Revas.”

“About you, yes.”

“You would not settle for the sword.” She moved around the barrel and out of his reach. “You would seek to bind me to a land I abhor. You want children of me.”

She had artfully dodged the emotional perils and the very real danger that existed between father and daughter, a skill she'd had thirteen years to master. Only in her sleep did she become that frightened little girl. “ 'Tis cruel to deny a man children.”

Her interest engaged, she pressed on. “Truly, Revas. How badly do you want the sword?”

More than air to breathe,
his soul cried. But he guarded the thought. They were conversing civilly; it was a start. “How badly do you wish to return to England?”

Her force of will was palpable. “Enough to continue bartering with you until God stands as witness to this futile exchange.”

Formidable. There was that word again. The too apt description of her inner strength made him rethink his strategy. Were he to strike a bargain with her, he ran the risk of losing and having to honor it. “You plan to await the Second Coming.”

She set her jaw. “Yes, and the Third Coming.”

In the face of her implacable determination, he aborted his original plan. The irony of his predicament gripped him, and after years spent preparing to welcome her home, he must now compel. She had said the people were doomed to disappointment. A woefully poor description; they would be crushed, for he had gone to drastic measures to make a place for her in the hearts and lives of the people of Elginshire.

The brisk April wind fluttered her cloak, and the damp air made ringlets of the wisps of hair that framed her face. The climate suited her well.

“ 'Twould appear,” she trilled, “that we have, as you say, the supreme joy of facing our first quandary.”

He added witty to her list of attributes. “Have you everything you need?”

“How gracious of you to inquire after my needs. Before I answer, you should tell me how long you intend to keep me.”

He couldn't help but growl, “Leave off, Meridene.”