X Marks the Scot (23 page)

Liadain traveled as far as she could, finally slowing her mount when she could no longer hold the darkness at bay. Regrettably, there was no moon to guide her and she would be forced to stop. At least Ciaran and his men would need to make camp as well. Besides, on the morrow she would need to spend all her energy on catching up with them.

She slipped from her horse and walked along the outer edge of the path until she found a small clearing. She tied off her mount on a sturdy tree. Fumbling through her sack, she grabbed a blanket and then flattened it upon the damp grass. She let out a long sigh as she settled down for what she knew would be a prolonged eve of restlessness.

Her makeshift bed was uncomfortable, but the hard ground did not bother her. To be truthful, she was more concerned with what her husband must be feeling. Was he outraged? Scared? Were his captors hurting him? She had to have faith that she and the men would arrive in time and this nightmare would abruptly come to an end.

Once King James read the papers written in Archie’s own hand, His Majesty would have no choice but to free her husband. She was a healer and did not wish death on anyone, but she sorely prayed that when the king found out the truth, he would take Dunnehl’s vile head. How could one man disrupt so many lives?

Liadain closed her eyes and a cool breeze brushed against her cheek. If she and MacGregor made it through this latest predicament and the rocky start of their marriage, they could survive anything as long as they were together.

He had never made any promises of love, but his kindness was all she had ever asked for. And when he called her “wife,” she felt truly at peace. Her heart swelled with something she could not quite place her finger on.

Hugging her arms to her chest, she closed her eyes if only for a moment.

In the dream, the crowd chanted as two guards escorted MacGregor to King James. His Majesty’s royal robes flowed behind him, billowing in the wind. The man stood with an air of regal grace and authority. The king gestured for MacGregor to kneel before him, and the guards forcefully threw her husband to his knees at His Majesty’s feet. Her husband’s open tunic displayed his broad chest as his hands were tied behind his back. His tawny hair was plaited into two war braids but disheveled. His breathing was labored. He knew he was going to die.

“I awarded you Castle Campbell. I gave you a wife. You attempted to kill me,” the king said, his voice deep.

A lady’s laugh wafted through the air, sounding foreign to Liadain’s ears. As she turned, she saw Lady Armstrong leaning against the stone wall with Lord Dunnehl pressed against her side. Dunnehl fingered Lady Armstrong’s tresses, and the evil woman brought up her hand to stay her giggles, clearly relishing the moment.

Liadain’s anger became a scalding fury.
“Mo chreach! Cha tugadh an donas an car asaibh!” The devil could not get the best of you!

“Healer,” called MacGregor in a troubled voice. “Donna have pity upon my soul. I couldnae bear it.” He lowered his head and waited.

What was he waiting for? The guard handed the king a sword—a very big broadsword. This could not be happening. She refused to believe it. Her husband was innocent. Where was Ciaran with the papers? Why was MacGregor as still as a statue? He should not accept this fate.

With one swift movement, King James raised the blade.

Liadain could only think to whisper the words, “Power of eye be yours. Power of the elements be yours. Power of my heart’s desire.”

A loud clattering noise jolted Liadain awake. She sat up, rubbed her eyes, and then froze. An enormous red stag stood no more than a few yards away, rubbing its massive antlers on a tree stump. At first glance, the animal must have had nearly sixteen very sharp points on the top of his head. The creature was an impressive sight.

The deer cast a quick glance at Liadain’s mount and then lowered its head, paying the horse no heed. She could not believe it was already morn. The sun started to peek through the trees and an early chill hung in the air. Slowly, she stood up and stepped from her blanket.

When a twig snapped behind her, the deer shot off into the forest. She approached her horse and opened her sack, replacing the blanket. When she turned around, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

The man stood very tall and brooding, his eyes flashing with outrage. “I am
verra
angry, Lady MacGregor.”

***

Declan was pulled to his feet and pushed to his mount. He was tired, hungry and, frankly, fed up. If one more man had an overwhelming need to pull him, kick him, or refer to him as a dog, the coolness he tried so carefully to display would quickly become a raging fire.

Hell. By the time Dunnehl folded his blasted tent, it would already be on the morrow. Declan wanted to make haste. The faster he could have his audience with King James, the better. His patience was wearing thin. He wanted to straighten out this whole bloody mess and get back to his life.

His wife had probably returned from Glenorchy by now, and he could only imagine what she must be thinking. The only saving grace was the fact that she was safe with Ciaran and Montgomery. Declan was not sure what he would have done, had Dunnehl attempted to harm her.

When his mount finally started to move, Declan needed all of his might to keep from screaming in frustration. At the rate they were traveling, the winter solstice would soon be upon them. A guard coughed beside him—the same man who had attempted to free Declan’s bindings last eve.

Curious if the man would converse with him, Declan spoke jestingly. “Does King James’s guard always travel with so much haste?”

The man kept his eyes forward, and for a moment Declan did not think the man would respond. “Only because we travel with Lord Dunnehl are we delayed.”

“Aye, it makes sense. The man cannae even wipe his own arse without assistance,” said Declan. The guard chuckled but covered it quickly with a cough. It did not come as a surprise—even Dunnehl’s own Englishmen could not stand him. “Do ye know why we travel to His Majesty?”

The guard’s expression was a mask of stone. “You tried to kill him,” he said blandly.

“Aye, so I have heard. At Parliament House. Did anyone see me there?” When the guard shrugged his shoulders, Declan added, “Do ye know how I tried to kill him?”

The man kept his eyes straight ahead and did not respond.

“What difference does it make if ye speak with me? I will be awarded an audience with the king and still be judged.”

“You shot him from atop one of the Parliament buildings with an arrow.” There was a distinct hardening of the guard’s eyes and his tongue was heavy with sarcasm. “No one could have made that shot but you. His Majesty lives. You failed.”

There was a heavy moment of silence.

“I donna suppose it would make any difference if I told ye I was innocent.”

The guard grunted. “That is what the guilty say.”

***

“Now, Montgomery,” said Liadain in a calming voice, nervously holding up her hand and backing away from him.

Montgomery closed the distance between them, his look menacing. “Donna
Montgomery
me.” He reached out and encircled her arm. “We are returning at once. This is nay game, Lady MacGregor. These are verra dangerous men. Ye saw what happened to Anna. That could have been ye. That could
still
be ye if ye continue down this path.”

Liadain shrugged off his hold and her eyes narrowed. “Donna speak to me like I am some daft female. I know the dangers,” she spat.

Realizing it was not in her best interest to infuriate the captain of her husband’s guard even further, she attempted a more subtle approach. “Montg…er, James, my husband will certainly value your loyalty to him, but I have to reach Ciaran. ’Tis of most importance that I do.”

“Lady MacGregor,” he said in a patronizing tone. “If I have to throw your wily arse over my shoulder again, I will do it. Donna tempt me. Now get on your mount. We are returning to Castle Campbell.”

She folded her arms over her chest in a defiant stance and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Now listen to me, ye Highland brute. I am the wife of the man ye serve. I am the sister of Archibald Campbell, seventh Earl of Argyll.”

He threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Ye think throwing titles at me will change my mind, lass?” he asked. “I donna care if ye are the bloody Queen of England.”

“Please, I cannae return without my husband.” Tears of frustration welled in her eyes.

“I told ye. Laird MacGregor and his brother will see to your husband. ’Tis nay place for a woman even if ye are Argyll’s sister.”

“Would ye please trust me in this?”

“Trust is earned,” he said sternly.

There was a heavy moment of silence.

Liadain let out a heavy sigh. “Ciaran has letters written in my brother’s hand. They should be enough to free my husband, but ’tis nay guarantee.” Reluctantly, she proceeded. “I have another paper that will secure my husband’s freedom.”

He raised a brow. “Then why didnae ye give it to Laird MacGregor before he took his leave?”

“Because it will destroy the life of another man and I am only willing to hand it over if all else fails.” She studied Montgomery intently and then placed her hand on his forearm. “What if this was Rosalia? Would ye let anyone stop ye?”

“’Tisnae the same and ye cannae pretend otherwise. This matter is completely different.”

A warning voice whispered in her head to tread carefully. “Then what if it were ye? Would Rosalia turn around because some burly Highlander stood in her way, or would she do anything within her grasp to free your name?”

His features clouded with uneasiness and he hesitated. “I donna like it.”

“I didnae ask ye to. Please. I love him. I cannae take such a risk with his life.”

For some reason, she was not as surprised by the revelation as she thought she would be. Ever since MacGregor had been taken, she had felt an extraordinary void that she could not explain. Her fear for him overrode all sense of reason. It did not matter what her husband felt or did not feel for her. But she knew one thing for certain. She wanted him back by her side where he belonged.

There was a long pause and Montgomery finally shook his head with uncertainty. “There will be rules.”

“I wouldnae have it any other way,” Liadain said hopefully.

“The first time ye donna listen—

She held up her hands in mock defense. “I will. I give ye my word.”

“Then give me your word ye willnae poison my food.”

She smiled sheepishly. “I give ye my word. Ye willnae regret this.”

Shaking his head, he sighed. “I already do. Mount up, Lady MacGregor.”

When Montgomery mumbled something under his breath about women, Liadain smiled. She knew at that moment he could be trusted—well, that and the fact that he did not kill her for tampering with his food.

They arrived at His Majesty’s estate only to find their liege had taken his leave for a bit of sport. Declan was disappointed his liege was not in attendance but also relieved, knowing that the king would eventually return. He was somewhat surprised that once he was delivered to His Majesty’s doorstep, Dunnehl did not linger to torture him by gloating. Perhaps the English peacock had fled back to Northumberland for the luxury of his own bed.

Declan sat in the bowels of the castle, waiting for his liege to return. After riding with the haughty Englishmen for so long, the silence of the dungeon was a welcome relief. If another man made reference to him being a Highland barbarian, Declan was ready to let his true Highland colors show.

Damn
English
peacocks.

He settled back and tapped his foot impatiently. It should not be too much longer now. While he sat questioning Dunnehl’s personal preferences, the heavy wooden door to his prison flew open.

“What the hell are ye doing here?” Declan asked, his voice unintentionally going up a notch.

Ciaran rolled his eyes. “Saving your arse once again.” Ciaran and Aiden walked through the door, and it banged and locked behind them. “We donna have much time, Brother. Ye owe your wife a great deal,” said Ciaran.

Declan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “My
wife
?”

“Listen to us verra carefully.”

***

Liadain was exhausted, miserable, and somewhat relieved that the end was in sight. After Montgomery sort of forgave her for tampering his oats, he actually turned into a formidable companion. He lit the fires every eve and even managed to catch a rabbit or two for the spit. She could only imagine what conditions her husband was forced to endure.

“Laird MacGregor is definitely ahead of us. He is more than likely already with His Majesty,” said Montgomery reassuringly.

“Aye, well, I am nae going to relax until I am certain. How much farther is it?”

He grunted. “Ye mean from the last time ye asked me?”

Thundering hooves stopped them in their tracks as King James’s banner rounded the bend from the opposite direction. Liadain and Montgomery were partially hidden along the path and conveniently out of the way when a group of men in hunting attire encircled the king and traveled into the estate. Trailing behind the party was a familiar face.

Liadain briefly hesitated, wanting to first contemplate her actions, but her emotions quickly won out. “Viscount Cranborne!” she shouted.

Robert turned his mount and approached. By his blank expression, she could not say whether or not he was surprised to see her.

“Lia…er, Lady MacGregor. What are you doing here?” He shifted in the saddle, his features clouding with uneasiness.

“Montgomery? Would ye please give us a moment?” Liadain asked. With a short nod of his head, her faithful companion pulled his mount a few yards away. “What are ye doing here, Robert?”

“I asked the same of you.”

“I am here for my husband. He has been falsely accused of an attempt on King James’s life. Mayhap ye have heard, but then again, I see ye have been hunting with the men. Ye are indeed a verra busy man,
Viscount
Cranborne.”

He promptly ignored her taunting. “I have heard. Please accept my apologies. If there is anything Elizabeth or I can do for you…”

“Anything ye can do for me? Surely ye donna think MacGregor guilty of such a ridiculous accusation?” she asked, her voice rising unintentionally.

“Liadain, why don’t we move inside? You have journeyed far.”

“I donna care how far I have traveled. I am going to clear my husband’s name. Surely ye understand and would do the same for your wife. I am curious if ye would help me,” she said with a mask of innocence.

“If there was anything I could do—

“If there was anything ye could do, ye would help me to clear MacGregor’s name,” she said abruptly.

“Of course.”

“Then tell me, Viscount Cranborne. Do ye know of a way we could prove his innocence? Set my husband free?” Liadain didn’t give him a chance to answer and then quickly added, “I must ask ye. Have ye any acquaintance with Lord Dunnehl, Catesby, Percy, or a man named Fawkes?”

His mount started to prance and Robert’s expression confirmed the truth of what she already knew.

“Why do you ask?” A subtle warning laced his voice. “Listen to me. You do not recognize the dangers of asking such questions.”

“Pray tell. I know
exactly
what I am doing. Ye see…I discovered that my brother, your dearest friend, kept notes of every meeting, every conversation, and every plot his devious mind devised. When I found the papers were in Archie’s own hand, I had to come here personally to deliver them to King James. Och, Archie was quite thorough. In fact, he even had a map of Parliament House that indicated the path a man would take to kill His Majesty.”

“Liadain…”

“But
Robert
, ye havenae even heard the best part,” she said. “Imagine my surprise when I found a document that implicates ye as well.”

Uncertainty crept into his expression and he replied in a low, tormented voice. “Before I journeyed to Spain, I met with those men. I knew Archie and Dunnehl were conspiring to remove King James from the throne. I will not deny my hand. But you have to believe me. That was before Spain—
before
I met Elizabeth. My wife and my son are my life, my reason for living. They mean everything to me. Please do not do this. I beg of you.”

There was a heavy moment of silence.

“And what of me? Ye would let the man I love hang for a crime he didnae commit to save your bloody arse.” When he did not respond, her blood boiled. “All these years I dreaded being Archie’s half sister. My brother was a cruel man, but he was also verra cunning. When ye live under the same roof with someone for so long, ye donna tend to realize the great deal of knowledge that has already been passed down to ye.” Her tone hardened. “Ye will listen to me verra carefully, Viscount Cranborne.”

After Liadain finished her cursing tirade, rancor sharpened her voice. “Ye will speak with the king. Ye will do everything in your power to free my husband. And if ye donna, I will take the paper with your name on it and personally hand-deliver it to His Majesty…and your
wife
. Ye will lose it all, Robert. Your precious title, your wealth, your wife, your son, and I will make certain ye lose your life.” Liadain spat out the words contemptuously.

Robert glowered at her and turned away.

***

Declan stood flanked by his brothers. For a moment he had a memory of Ciaran and Aiden soothing over tempers when he was caught sampling the wares of a merchant’s daughter. When he thought back, he remembered many of those times, more frequent than not. He always challenged, pushed the limit, and his brothers were always there to pull him out of his latest catastrophe. He could not help wondering whether there would ever be a time when his brothers realized enough was enough—when they would let him handle his own mistakes. He was thankful that Ciaran and Aiden’s revelation was not to be made on this particular day.

King James had summoned them for a private audience. As guards escorted them to His Majesty’s study, Declan could not slow his racing heart. He had thought the truth alone would set him free. But what if they could not convince the king of his innocence?

Aiden slapped Declan on the shoulder. “Everything will work out. Be truthful and try nae to be—well, ye.”

“Thank ye for the reassurance, Brother,” Declan said dryly.

“’Tis probably wise for ye both to remain silent and let me do the speaking,” said Ciaran in an authoritative tone.

As they entered the study with two armed guards, King James replaced a book on the shelf. “The MacGregors. You have come here to bargain for your brother’s life?”

They all bowed their heads. “Your Majesty.”

The king pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. Leaning back, their liege rubbed his brow. “Please, by all means be seated and enlighten me.”

Declan took his seat between Ciaran and Aiden. He could not help feeling like a scolded child. He bowed his head and remained silent. To be truthful, he was thankful Ciaran did the explaining because he did not know where to even begin.

“My liege, I can say with certainty that my brother did not shoot the arrow that struck ye. When my brother took his leave from court, he traveled directly to Glenorchy.” When His Majesty looked doubtful, Ciaran added, “I have something to prove my brother’s innocence.” Unfolding the papers, Ciaran placed them on the top of the table.

King James sat forward and folded his hands. “Well, go on. I am listening.”

“The sister of the Earl of Argyll, my brother’s wife, discovered a hidden study in the walls of Castle Campbell.”

“How convenient,” the king said dryly.

“The papers are written in the earl’s own hand. At first we found a detailed map of Parliament House.” Ciaran pushed the map in front of King James. “As ye can see, markings are upon the roof and all lead here to a spot marked ‘X,’” Ciaran said, tapping the page.

Ciaran replaced the map with the next piece of proof. “This next page has dates and times of meetings with Argyll at which the removal of someone of great power was discussed, including his demise at Parliament House.”

King James’s expression darkened with an unreadable emotion. “And all this was found in Argyll’s hidden study? And how is it that this information does not implicate your brother?” the king asked, his accusing gaze riveted on Declan.

Ciaran cleared his throat. “The last document uncovered has the names of the conspirators,” he said in a low, tormented voice. “Some of the men are familiar to me and some arenae.” He pushed the paper forward and the king reached out to take it.

“There is more than one?”

There was a heavy silence as His Majesty read the names of the men who plotted to seal his fate. Curses fell from their liege’s mouth and his anger became a scalding fury. “Fawkes? The man has already been hanged. He was caught guarding thirty-six barrels of gunpowder for the purpose of blowing Parliament straight to hell. The man would only admit that he acted alone. And Dunnehl…he wanted so desperately to escort my guard to Castle Campbell. Thinking back, he was also the man who planted the idea in my head that MacGregor…So if Argyll and Dunnehl conspired against the realm, who the hell took a shot at me? MacGregor, you are the only one skilled enough to land that shot.”

Declan shifted in his chair. “The only one that ye know of, Your Majesty. What of Graham? The tournament ended with the two of us,” he said the words tentatively as if testing the idea.

“He left for Spain. My men verified this.” King James regarded Declan quizzically for a moment. “If not you, then who took the shot?”

Declan needed to convince his liege of his virtue. It was never too late for the truth. “Your Majesty, ye awarded me Castle Campbell and a bonny wife. I donna hold anything against ye and have naught but respect.”

The king’s eyes narrowed. “If I remember correctly, you were not exactly thankful that I wed you to Argyll’s sister. In fact, you were furious. You had the motive and the means to want to kill me, MacGregor.”

“I understand how ye might think as much, Your Majesty, but to speak honestly, I have grown to care for my wife. In fact, I donna deserve her. She is too good for me and by far the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Ciaran glanced sideways in surprise.

Declan rubbed his brow. “If I may, Your Majesty, I have an idea.”

***

Liadain waited in the hall outside King James’s study with Montgomery. She could not stop herself from pacing. Once the pacing grew old, she stood and shifted from foot to foot. Her husband’s fate was being decided and she was not by his side. She needed to be in there. She could not bear the thought of what would have happened to MacGregor if her brother had not kept such detailed notes. She gave a silent prayer of thanks to Archie for being such a methodical tyrant.

The door opened and King James was flanked by two guards. She gave a low curtsy as he walked by without acknowledging her presence. She quickly stood and rushed to the study as four armed guards came out of nowhere from behind her, one of them pulling her firmly by the arm to the side. The men stormed in and escorted her bound husband out with Ciaran and Aiden in tow. A troubled expression crossed all of their features.

“MacGregor!”

“Healer, what are ye doing here?” Her husband’s last word was muffled as she shook off the guard and threw herself against his broad chest. Her arms encircled him and then her hands moved all over him. She needed to make sure he was unhurt.

“I donna think now is the time,” MacGregor said wryly.

“Husband, are ye injured? I have been plagued with worry.” Her eyes were bordered with tears.

“I am fine.”

She glanced down at his bindings and then at Ciaran. “Liadain, ye need to come with Aiden and me. Now,” Ciaran ordered.

“I am nae leaving my husband,” she said with firmness. Four brawny Highlanders stared back at her, along with four English guards. She lifted her chin and met their gaze straight on.

“Healer, look at me.” MacGregor’s voice was soft but alarming. “’Tis verra important that ye stay with Ciaran and Aiden. These men will take me to the dungeon. I have proof of my innocence, and on the morrow, I will take His Majesty’s men to get it. Now stay with Ciaran and Aiden.” He gestured to the guards that he was ready, and the men started to escort him away.

As she was about to speak of the papers, Ciaran reached out and grabbed her arm. “Liadain, ye will come with us.”

She hesitated, blinking with bafflement and totally bewildered at their odd behavior. Did they show King James the papers? Why was her husband still bound and being taken to the dungeon? What evidence did her husband have? She was so confused. When she glanced back at MacGregor, her dream came back to haunt her. She would not let it end this way without him knowing…

“Husband, I love ye!”