Betrayed (37 page)

Reluctantly the Lord of the Isles obeyed the king, not wanting to be further publicly embarrassed, but he was furious over his brief imprisonment. When he arose from his knees, the king said, “Now, ye, Nairn, for so I promised ye several years back that ye would swear second after yer brother.”

Colin MacDonald stepped forward, a small smile upon his lips.

“I feared my lord would not swear,” Fiona said afterward. They were safely back in their own tent. She had her husband ensconced in a wooden barrel Roderick Dhu had confiscated for her. The barrel had been filled with hot water, and she was now scrubbing her husband's red-gold head with great vigor.

“Ouch! Go gentle, sweeting” he begged her, and then, “My brother does not consider his oath binding, for the king forced it from him. Had he not sworn, James Stewart would not have let him go.”

Secretly, Fiona agreed with her brother-in-law, but she would not say so aloud. “An oath sworn before God and witnesses is an oath to be kept,” she said severely. “What harm has been done? All yer brother must do is keep the peace. Can he not do that, Nairn?”

“His pride has been compromised, Fiona mine. He has been publicly shamed and made an example of in the king's hall. How can he forget that? It must be made right, or there are those among the clans who will believe he has become weak. Then he will not be able to keep the peace in the north for James Stewart.”

“And how does yer brother propose to salve his pride then, my lord?” she asked scathingly, dumping a bucket of warm water over his head.

Colin MacDonald shook his head free of the droplets. “I don't know yet, for he has not decided what he shall do.”

Fiona snorted with impatience and handed her husband the scrubbing cloth and some soap. “Wash yerself, and do a good job of it,” she cautioned him. “A week in the king's dungeon, and there is enough dirt on ye to grow cabbages, my lord.”

“I wish we were at home,” he said, “so we might bathe together.”

“’Tis not bathing together yer thinking about.” She laughed. ‘ Jesu, Colin MacDonald, ye have just escaped possible death, and do ye give God a prayer of thanks for it? No! Ye think of coupling with yer wife!”

“Aye,” he admitted, not in the least ashamed. “The whole time I was in the king's jail I didn't fight or fret, for I just kept thinking about yer pretty round little
titties, and how sweetly ye sheathe me when we join, Fiona mine.”

She laughed again. “Well,” she told him. “I canna say I am disappointed that ye thought of me, Nairn. I worried a great deal about ye, particularly when they would not let us see any of ye or even bring ye small comforts. Then when the king hanged James Campbell, those of us in the encampment were hard put not to be frightened.”

“Campbell deserved hanging,” Colin MacDonald said grimly.

“Well, I'm grateful the king did not hang ye.”

Nairn rose, pushed himself up and out of the barrel with his strong arms, and attempted to embrace her, but she scolded him, saying, “The living space is not private, and ’Tis the middle of the day. What if the children or the servants or, God help us, yer mam, were to come upon us? Behave yerself, Nairn. Now that I have ye safe there will be plenty of time for loving ye, but not here or now, my lord. Did ye sleep well in prison?”

“No,” he said, almost purring as she rubbed him dry.

“Then ye will need a good night's sleep, my lord, for unless ye have objection, I would depart for Nairns Craig as early tomorrow as we can go. And when we are home, Colly, ye will not regret controlling yer baser instincts for me now” She drew a clean shirt over his big body, her hand slipping beneath the fabric just a moment to caress his love rod. “If ’Tis hungry now, ‘twill be even hungrier in two days if I can wait.”

He chuckled. “Yer a brazen piece of goods, wife,” he told her, but he did not sound displeased with her at all.

Colin MacDonald had no sooner finished dressing
than Roderick Dhu ushered in a royal page. “The lad comes from the king” he said dourly.

“What is it, lad?” Nairn asked the boy.

“The king would speak in private with yer lady, sir,” the page told them. “I am to accompany her to the castle.”

“Why does he wish to speak with my wife?”

“Is this not the lady who spoke out so boldly in the king's hall the opening day of the parliament?” the page replied.

“I am,” Fiona admitted.

“Then ye are the lady the king wishes to speak with,” the page said firmly. Then he said confidentially, “I think he means to scold ye, lady. He was verra angry that day”

“Was he indeed, lad?” Fiona said, unable to help the small smile that touched her mouth. “He means me no harm, Colly,” she reassured her husband. “I think the lad is right. I will go with him and return soon, I promise.”

“Mistress!” Nelly came forward and handed her Johanna. “Take the bairn for safety's sake, my lady.” She slipped a sling of warm plaid about Fiona's neck and tucked the baby into it so that it lay cradled against Fiona's bosom. “Aye,” she said with a small chuckle. “That will do nicely. No man, even a king, can be harsh to a woman with a tiny bairn clinging to her.”

Fiona bit her lip, restraining her laughter, and when she had gone with the page, Nairn said to Nelly, “Yer as clever a lass as yer mistress is, Nelly. When do ye intend wedding poor Roderick?”

“When we return to Nairns Craig,” Nelly said calmly “’Tis time, I'm thinking, that we settled down properly, my lord.”

Roderick Dhu looked stunned at this revelation.
“Yer finally ready?” he asked, amazed, for Nelly had held him off forever, it seemed. “What has happened to change yer mind, Nelly lass?”

“I saw how easily a woman might lose the man she loves,” Nelly told him honestly. “And I do love ye, ye great, gangling gawk of a man.”

James Stewart looked at Fiona with a sharp eye. In her fine wool skirts and her creamy silk blouse, a length of plaid about her, she was the picture of a highland chieftain's wife.

“What have ye tucked into that shawl?” he demanded of her.

“My youngest daughter, Johanna, named for yer queen” she replied. “She was born a bit over four months ago. I could not leave her, my liege, when ye called me.”

“Ye managed to leave her the first day of the parliament” he said dryly. “Why is today different—or are ye attempting to gain my sympathy because of yer recent maternity, lady?”

“On the day ye so shamefully arrested the chieftains” Fiona replied blandly, “my maidservant looked after my bairns. Now she must watch over my husband's mother, who has been made unwell by all the excitement of the gathering, my liege.”

“How many bairns?”

“Three, so far. The eldest is a son, Alastair James. The second, a daughter, Mary,” Fiona responded. “Ye have two daughters, I am told.”

“Margaret and Isabella,” he answered. “I do not ask ye here, lady, to discuss our offspring. Ye have disappointed me, Fiona Hay. Why did ye return my coin?”

“I will not inform upon my husband, my liege,”
she said. “Nor will I betray his family. Ye have no right to ask it of me. Besides, I am not privy to the Lord of the Isles’ thoughts. Nairns Craig is on the opposite side of Scotland from Islay. As for my husband, he is loyal to his brother, it is true, but he is not an instigator of mischief. In all the time I have been with Nairn, I have been to Islay only once, and that immediately after I was taken. There is naught I can tell ye. Now, let me return to my husband. Ye have forced me to lie to him once more, for I shall have to tell him ye scolded me severely for my outburst in the hall last week. We have no other business, my liege.”

“I will release ye for now, Fiona MacDonald,” he told her, “but there may come a time when I need ye again. Ye canna refuse me. I am yer king and yer overlord, woman. Will ye break yer fealty to me?”

“As I am pledged to ye, my lord, so were ye pledged to me,” Fiona answered him fiercely. “When ye forced me into yer service three years ago, ye broke yer trust with me. As I was pledged to give ye service, ye were bound to protect me and my honor. I have served ye well, James Stewart, but ye have not kept yer part of the bargain between overlord and liege woman. I will promise ye this. I will not rebel against ye as my king, but neither will ye demand service of me again. Ye have not the right to do so any longer.” She inclined her head to him then and turned to go, but suddenly she stopped, swiveling her head about. “Be advised, my liege. The Lord of the Isles feels ye have shamed him publicly. He may seek to retaliate simply to balance the scales between ye. He will be a good ally after that, though, and ye can trust him, for his sense of honor and justice is a strong one.” With that, Fiona left.

He let her go. The truth was that she was no longer important to him. By challenging her he had closed the
book on them. Her warning he accepted as a pledge of her good faith, but he did not give it serious consideration. Certainly The MacDonald saw James Stewart's determination. Surely a week in the royal dungeon cooling his heels had reinforced the king's will. It was unlikely that The MacDonald would precipitate any foolish action against the king. No. James Stewart now had the highlands firmly under his control.

“What did he want?” Nairn asked her when she returned to their tent.

Fiona laughed. “It was as the lad said. He scolded me for my bold tongue, but I reminded him that highland women are outspoken, and then I sent my regards to my former mistress, the queen. I do not think he is pleased with me, Colly, but what have I really done but speak the truth? He knew it, and so he sent me on my way.”

Colin MacDonald drew his wife into his arms. “I never want to lose ye, Fiona mine,” he said. “Ye must not be so brazen and bold, sweeting.” His big hand caressed her dark head.

Fiona laughed again and, pulling away from him, looked into his face. “Telling me to not be brazen or bold is like asking the sun to not rise, please,” she teased him. “I am who I am, my lord, and verra unlikely to change, I fear. I think it is a good thing that ye love me for the way I am.” Then she drew his head down to hers and kissed him softly. “I have missed ye, Colly. I have missed ye verra,
verra
much.”

The smoky hint of passion in her voice was tempting. His grip about her tightened. His eyes narrowed as he contemplated her and the delights they were about to share. She smiled up seductively at him. It was an outrageous and blatant invitation.

Then Roderick Dhu's voice broke the spell. “The
lord is calling for ye to come to his pavilion immediately, my lord.”

“Dammit!” Fiona swore softly, and her husband laughed.

“I'll be back as quickly as I can, sweeting,” he told her, kissing the tip of her nose.

Fiona smiled, watching him go. She had managed to turn his thoughts from her visit to the king. Pray God she would never be put into such a position again. She wondered what Colin MacDonald would think if he ever learned that his abduction of her had been carefully orchestrated by James Stewart. And what would he do if he learned that Alastair was not his natural born son but the offspring of Angus Gordon? She was fortunate he was such a trusting man with a basically sweet nature. But he could be as determined and strong as she was, Fiona knew. She comforted herself with the knowledge that she was a good wife to him, and always had been. Moreover, she was finally willing to admit she was in love with her big highland husband. Meeting Hamish Stewart had been wonderful, yet frightening. What if Black Angus had been with the king? How could she have faced him? He would have despised her, and she could not have borne it. Angus would have believed the worst, as he had always been wont to do. At least Colin loved her for good or bad.

When Fiona awoke in the morning, Colin was already up and dressing. She stretched herself, enjoying the sensation as she did so.

“Yer awake,” he said. “It isn't quite dawn, but we should be under way as quickly as possible.”

“How late were ye?” she asked, wondering why he had not wakened her and made love to her as he had earlier intended.

“The chieftains had much talking to do,” he answered, but no more.

“Tell me that yer brother will not be foolish,” she begged.

“Alexander has been insulted by James Stewart. That insult must be redressed. Ye know that is the way of it, sweeting.”

Fiona climbed from their camp bed. “So yer brother, having sworn fealty to the king, breaks that fealty and strikes back at James Stewart. What, pray tell, do ye think the king will do, Colly? Do ye believe that he will let it go? Or will he strike back, too? And then it begins anew. The highlands aflame. Crops and cattle destroyed. Women, bairns, and old folk driven from their homes, hounded to their deaths. For what, my lord? Will this redress either your brother's pride or the equally vast pride of James Stewart? Why must we all suffer the conceit and arrogance of those who rule us?”

Putting his arms about her, he tried to comfort her. “Ye don't understand, Fiona mine,” he said gently

She pulled away from him, outraged.
“Don't understand?
Ye dare to accuse me of not understanding? I understand all too well, my lord. It is verra simple. Men would rather fight. Women would not. There is no more to it, Colin MacDonald. Only that!”

“Hurry and dress, sweeting,” he said, ignoring her logic, for it conflicted with his own, and he was certain he was right. “I want to get home to Nairns Craig as quickly as possible. There is much to do to get ready.” He cinched a wide leather belt about his waist.

“Get ready for what?”
she demanded.

Tipping her chin up, he brushed her lips lightly. “Don't be long,” he said with infuriating charm, and then he left her.

Fiona shook her head. What mischief were the
MacDonalds up to, and what would the cost to ordinary folk be? Pulling on her skirts and footwear, she called to Nelly to bring Johanna so she might nurse the bairn before they departed. What would be would be. Her main goal was to protect her children and Moire Rose from the chaos that would undoubtedly come.

She thought as they rode that day of how relatively peaceful her childhood had been despite just this sort of squabbling going on about her. She remembered that Black Angus had once told her Hay Tower and Brae escaped the general mayhem because of their relative isolation. Nairns Craig, while inaccessible to direct attack, was near enough to the town of Nairn, the seat of the head of the Rose family, and Cawdor Castle, which had once been home to an evil king called Macbeth, to not be overlooked in any factional fighting between the king's forces and the highlanders, should it come to that. She hoped whatever the Lord of the Isles was planning would not be so dreadful that the king would feel bound to retaliate by setting the highlands aflame. Especially with the autumn coming. She hoped the king would go to Islay to take his revenge should he need to, but she knew he wouldn't. Punishing the highlands would be easier than taking to sea to reach Islay.