The Intended (30 page)

No longer able to hold back, Malcolm’s mouth
seized hers, stealing her breath as his hard body backed her into
the horse’s side. With a moan deep in her throat, she slid her arms
around his neck and kissed him back, welcoming the thrusting rasp
of his tongue, glorying in the crush of his lips as he kissed her
harder, yielding with pleasure to the loving press of his hips.

Nothing can stop us now, she thought.

No one will ever come between us again, he
vowed.

And in the sky far above them, once again the
falcon circled, searching patiently for her prey.

“Catherine!” The suddenness of the earl of
Surrey’s voice startled the young woman, and she whirled to face
her elder cousin. “Have
you
any idea why my father would
make such a request? Why, in God’s name, should His Grace want
Jaime sent to court on such short notice? After all, he and Edward
are planning to return soon enough to Kenninghall. Why now,
Catherine? And why in such haste?”

Catherine shook her head as she pondered her
response, for she, too, wished to know the answer. She had been
quite careful in her private talk with the king. She had needed to
make certain that Edward and the duke would never guess the
identity of the Edward’s accuser. But now, hearing this news of
Jaime’s summons, Catherine wondered if the two had somehow found
her out. For a long moment she stared at the duke’s letter as it
dangled from Surrey’s hand. But how could they have learned
anything? She was certain that Henry would not betray her and ruin
her relationship with her own family. Or would he? she wondered.
Nay, she decided quickly. The king was still quite enamored of her,
and she planned to keep it that way.

But what purpose, Catherine mused, turning
her thoughts back to the letter, could be served in bringing her
Scottish cousin to Henry’s attention.

“Perhaps Edward is pining over his separation
from Jaime,” Mary suggested, drawing all eyes to where she sat with
a piece of needlework across her lap.

Catherine stifled her laughter with a
cough.

Mary nodded with conviction. “Perhaps His
Grace believes this is the best way to soothe Edward and Jaime’s
aching hearts. If you ask my opinion...”

“Which no one did ask,” Catherine put in
shortly.

Mary glanced in her direction, disconcerted
and blushing. But upon seeing the sudden awkwardness of her
position, Surrey stepped over to her, encouraging her to continue
as Catherine turned away. “You were saying, Mary?”

With a quick glance in Catherine’s direction,
the younger woman started again. “Well, it seems to me that having
Jaime summoned to court is, in many ways, a blessing for her. And
she has been so forbidding in her attitude since Edward left. I for
one have been praying for his speedy return and an end to her
misery.”

From her chair by a window, Frances looked up
from her own needlework and entered the discussion for the first
time, coming to Jaime’s defense. “I don’t think Jaime has been
visibly upset nor miserable. She has certainly been busier than any
one of us in seeing to what goes on in the palace. So if she seems
a bit distant, I should think she’s entitled. I am quite certain
she has a great deal on her mind.”

Mary shook her head and turned her gaze
downward. “I am not being critical, Lady Frances. I’ve just never
seen her so irritable before now, and I think it must be...” Mary
chanced a peek at the earl who was once again perusing the contents
of the duke’s letter. She continued, but this time in confidential
tones directed toward Frances. “Well, lovesick or just busy, I
don’t care for the way she is treating us.”

“Treating
us
?” Frances returned with a
kindly laugh. “Are you certain you are not imagining all this,
Mary?”

“I am not,” she returned petulantly. “Why,
just this morning—knowing that I would be greatly interested in
joining the men on their hunt—Jaime left our bedchamber without
awakening me or even leaving a message for me.” She stared
round-eyed at Frances. “She never so much as gave a thought to
extending Lord Surrey’s invitation to ride to any of the other
ladies.”

“There was no invitation for her to extend,”
Surrey put in bluntly, looking up from the letter.

Mary’s startled face blushed scarlet and then
subsided into a pout as she turned to Frances in embarrassment and
a touch of temper. “Is he saying that
you
were not invited,
either? That Jaime Macpherson is the only woman in Kenninghall
worthy of joining the men in their sport?”

Frances turned away from Mary, only to find
her husband’s smiling eyes looking directly into her own.

“Oh, my love!” Surrey interjected with a look
of feigned surprise. “I had little thought that you were interested
in riding...well, I just thought that after last ni...”

“That will do, Surrey!” Frances ordered,
fighting down the rising blush in her cheeks.

The earl tore his eyes away from his wife’s
glowing face and looked at Mary. “Cousin,” he said seriously.
“Malcolm and I, by chance, came across Jaime on our way to the
stables. The offer of her accompanying us was not one that we had
arranged earlier.”

“But still, my lord...”

“That is all there is to tell, Mary!”

Frances’s attention snapped to her husband’s
face. Surrey was not one to indulge in shows of temper—unlike
Edward, whose open displays of rage were second to none. But the
earl did have the uncanny ability—particularly when annoyed—to stop
a talker cold with just the slightest inclination of his head and
an even slighter change in his tone. Frances recognized the change
and looked steadily at him. Mary, on the receiving end of the
earl’s annoyance, sat a moment—her mouth opening and closing once
or twice—before quietly turning her attention back to the
needlework in her lap.

Catherine’s movement toward the windows drew
Frances’s gaze. The young woman was smiling, and seemed to be
enjoying the efficiency with which Surrey stopped Mary’s talk.
Frances watched the king’s intended as she moved away, now clearly
preoccupied with her own thoughts. Frances looked around and found
Surrey’s eyes once again upon her. At his silent command, she stood
up, and together they moved to the far end of the chamber.

“Jaime has to go,” he whispered. “I have no
choice but to send her at once.”

“Have you spoken with her about this,
yet?”

He shook his head. “The letter only arrived
since we’ve come back from riding. I’ve had no chance.”

Frances stared at the fine weave on her
husband’s doublet. “So you haven’t spoken to Malcolm yet,
either.”

“It is not his concern.”

“Is it not?” Frances asked softly, raising
her eyes to her husband’s penetrating gaze.

Surrey did not answer.

“Can I talk to Jaime first?” She threw a
covert glance in the direction of the two other women in the room.
“Before she hears of it from them.”

Gently, Surrey placed a hand on France’s
cheek. “You are trying to buy her time, my love. But she must go
when she is summoned.”

His wife leaned her face against the palm of
his hand. “You won’t force her to act against her will. This must
be her decision.”

“She is in England, my sweet. And she has
placed herself under my father’s care. It is a bit late for her to
have a change of heart, considering the reasons behind the duke’s
summons.” The look of doubt in Frances’s face told him that she
wasn’t convinced. “Just think back to when we first met. You must
have had as many reservations about marrying me as Jaime has
regarding Edward.”

“More! Without question!” Frances teased.

“I knew it!” He laughed. “But you see? The
human heart can
learn
to love. Now honestly, don’t you
agree?”

“Let me talk to her first.” Frances turned
her face and softly placed a kiss on his palm.

“As you wish, my love.”

“But, Surrey,” she said, smiling as she
looked into his face, “Edward is
nothing
like you.”

His eyes shone with his love for her, and
their gazes held for a long moment. Then, as Surrey smiled, he
remembered the letter in his hand.

“Frances, one thing more,” he said, holding
it out to her. “I’d like you to look at this. There is something
more in it that should help convince Jaime to go. Perhaps ‘tis the
reason for the summons, though I don’t...”

As Surrey’s words trailed off, Frances
reached out and took the parchment from his hands. Moving toward a
window, she quickly perused the duke’s letter. But before she had
gone halfway across the chamber, she turned and raised her eyes to
his.

Jaime started at his approach, questioning
him with a clear note of anxiety. “How did you get in?” Malcolm
backed her against the wall and stopped her question with a
kiss.

“Through the door,” he replied, drawing back
only a breath. Without hesitating, his lips descended upon the soft
curve of her cheek, the velvet skin of her neck.

Jaime placed her hands against his chest and
tried to push him away.

“Malcolm, you just go out the way you came!
Lady Frances is...” Her words were silenced once again by his mouth
closing over hers. It took a long moment before she was able to
free her lips and catch her breath. Jaime looked anxiously at the
direction of the door and, seeing it was now barred, turned and
unsuccessfully tried to push him toward the window. “I received a
message that Frances wishes to meet with me in here, and she is
bound to come in soon. You’ll have to go out by way of the
terrace.”

“In broad daylight, lass?” he crooned. “The
duke’s soldiers will surely cut me down...”

“We cannot allow her to find us here
together!” she interrupted, again trying to move his giant body
across the music room. But her effort was futile.

He wrapped an arm more tightly around her
waist and hugged her as he stole another kiss. “I’ve missed you,
Jaime.”

“We saw each other only an hour or so ago!”
She tried to step away, but his arms were like steel around
her.

“I couldn’t stay away.”

“You are a scoundrel, Malcolm MacLeod, but
you must give in to my wishes this time,” she whispered softly
against his face, and as she turned in his arms, the Highlander now
reluctantly gave in, releasing her and allowing her to lead him
across the chamber. “It would be a terrible end for you if Frances
found us together here. I know she must already be on her way. You
must go now, Malcolm!”

Jaime pushed open the diamond-paned window.
“Now go!” she commanded.

Malcolm leaned his head out and looked up and
down the stone terrace, golden in the afternoon sunlight. “Are you
certain I must go this way?” he asked, looking back at her.

She nodded. “Aye, and be quick about it!”

“But, Jaime. Someone is sure to see me
climbing the palace wall.”

“You should have thought of that when you
made your way down here, you great fool!” she scolded lightly. The
knock on the door, though, made her stiffen where she stood. She
hurriedly pushed him into the window frame. “Do whatever you need
to do, Malcolm, but don’t let Frances find you here.”

He placed a gentle hand against her face.
“Very well, my love. Just go and unbar the door—don’t worry about
me.”

Jaime placed a quick kiss on his outstretched
fingers as he slipped out the long window. Heading for the door,
she straightened her skirts and ran a quick hand through her hair.
Jaime lifted the bar and greeted the waiting woman standing in the
wide corridor.

“Ah, Jaime. I was unsure...well, I wasn’t
even sure if you had come back from the gardens yet.”

“I arrived back only a moment ago,” Jaime
responded, pulling the door open wide and encouraging Frances to
step into the room. “The servant whom you sent spoke of a matter of
some urgency for this meeting. Is there something wrong,
Frances?”

Frances walked straight to the middle of the
room. “I’ll tell you what I know, once...oh, I am so glad you are
already here.”

Jaime turned sharply in the direction of the
countess’s gaze. Seeing Malcolm seated at her music table brought
on a moment of confusion. His expression was blank, and he
certainly looked as if it were perfectly natural for him to be
there. He smiled at her innocently.

“Well, I can think of no reason to wait,”
Frances began. “Jaime, if you don’t mind...”

Jaime was staring dumbly, still not fully
recovered from her shock at finding him in the chamber. Suddenly
aware of the countess’s eyes upon her, she shook herself out of her
daze and pushed the heavy door shut. An unexpected dizziness swept
over her, and she leaned her back against the door. She put a
clammy hand to her forehead, and, as abruptly as it came, the
unsteadiness went. He knew Frances was expecting him to be here!
Her anger growing within her, Jaime gave him as withering a look as
she could muster. The rogue could have told her the truth and saved
her from all this unnecessary panic.

Frances was clearly in the mood to waste no
words. “Jaime, a messenger has arrived from court with a letter
from the duke. His Grace requires your presence at Nonsuch Palace,
at once.”

Jaime paled once again as she looked in
confusion at Frances. The other woman’s face betrayed no joy in
conveying this news.

“There is no reason given for this summons,”
Frances continued. “Other than the fact that it is extremely urgent
for you to leave immediately for court.”

“But why? What does this mean? It cannot be,
Lady Frances!” Jaime shook her head. She wouldn’t go, she thought
miserably. Feeling as though a steel rod had been plunged into her
heart, Jaime sought out Malcolm's face. The sudden anger in his
expression had furrowed his brow into a mass of dark creases. She
saw him stand from his chair and turn to the countess.