Authors: Jillian Hunter
Tags: #European Renaissance, #Highlands, #Princess, #Nautical
He had never guessed that this sort of caring was possible between two people. He had not dreamed he could impress such a woman without resorting to deception. How he wished now he had been honest with her from the start.
He desired this woman and her depth of caring with a gut-wrenching pain that made the wound in his shoulder feel like a wasp sting.
He pulled her against his chest and kissed her in full view of everyone in the hall. His powerful hands gripped her shoulders. Her head fell back. A gasp caught in her throat. Then she locked her arms around his neck and kissed him back with a
passion one would not exactly expect from a princess. Her soft mouth sought his. She all but backed him into the table. Blood roared in his head like a waterfall.
"
Princess,
"
he whispered against her mouth, grinning as he broke the kiss.
"
You are precious and most unpredictable. But this time you
will
stay here."
He set her away from him, casting a hard stare at the gigantic figure in the doorway.
"
Dainty, if you let anything happen to her, I will throw the flowers at your funeral.
"
"Be careful, Douglas,
"
Rowena said, her face a study in anxiety. "Come back to me."
"I intend to, Rowena.
"
"
You
'
re a stubborn man," she added.
He scowled at her to show his displeasure. She scowled back to hide her fear.
Baldwin brought him his sword. Then Douglas pivoted, Aidan falling into step like a shadow.
Jerome, still in shock from watching Douglas kiss his royal cousin, had slipped back against the table to let them pass. His elbow hit the goblet. The goblet rolled off the table between Douglas
'
s booted feet. With a fleeting frown of annoyance, Douglas reached down to retrieve it.
'You kissed the royal princess in public,
"
Jerome said.
"
Aren
'
t you even going to apologize?
"
"No," Douglas said, swinging around again.
"
I am not.
"
* * *
* *
H
ildegarde closed the heavy bedchamber door in Dainty
'
s face as the princess hurried past her. "What is it?
"
she whispered.
"
The man is driving me mad,
"
Rowena said.
"
I am a prisoner now. A true prisoner. The giant is my bodyguard.
"
Hildegarde looked around the room; she had spent days trying to uncover the secret passage she sensed had escaped her search. She was still afraid that Prince Randolph's adversaries had followed them into these Scottish wilds to kidnap Rowena.
"
There is still no word from Frederic?" Hildegarde asked.
"No.
"
Rowena bent to wrench off her kidskin slippers, hiding her worried expression from the woman
'
s scrutiny. "He
'
s probably on the way here with his army."
"
That man has never broken a promise in his life,
"
Hildegarde said softly. "Something must have happened. Someone has stopped him."
Rowena looked up, her blood suddenly cold. "Jerome, do you think? Could he have brought rebel soldiers with him and perhaps done harm to Frederic on his way back here?
"
Hildegarde shook her head. "Jerome was always a gentle boy. He doesn't have a head for plots. I cannot believe he would hurt anyone or betray you, Highness.
"
"
Nor can I,
"
Rowena said.
"
I—
"
She bolted to the window at the sound of horses
whickering in the courtyard below. Douglas was riding from the stable on a spirited black stallion that he controlled with the pressure of his powerful thighs. Someone had taught the pirate how to ride.
"God protect him,
"
she said in a whisper. "Bring him back whole."
His dark head lifted as if he had felt her blessing. Their gazes connected, and Rowena shivered as a frisson of fear and physical longing danced over her skin.
"
Where does he go?" Hildegarde asked over her shoulder.
"
To meet Neacail of Glengalda."
"
But he is not yet recovered,
"
Hildegarde exclaimed. "How does he plan to fight in such a weakened state?"
Rowena gripped the windowsill, her mouth pinched white. "I suppose that depends on whether he is the Earl of Dunmoral, or the Dragon of Darien at the time.
"
20
S
he was a p
rincess who had lived in a tur
reted palace and who rode beribboned ponies in a pasture, but her life had not been a fairy tale. Her mother had died of blood poisoning when Rowena was three, and the royal family had never recovered from losing the high-spirited woman who had been its heart and guiding hand.
Bereft of a mother's wisdom, Rowena
'
s sister Micheline had become a rebel. Rowena, a lonely child, had taken solace in nature, in archery and forbidden walks through the forest. She had spent most of her life trying to make her grieving father smile.
Prince Randolph barely knew his children existed. He fought petty wars as a distraction. His heart had never healed from losing his wife.
Rowena loved him anyway, but wished that for
once he would take responsibility for his own welfare. She saw nothing otherwise but a sad life of obligation before her, of battling little wars that would drain her land and spirit dry.
Here at Dunmoral she had finally found a world where she was allowed to live. To test her feminine powers. To follow her inner longings. To suffer heartache because the man she loved had misled her and she loved him anyway
Queen Mary or Elizabeth?
Mary-Elizabeth.
This isn
'
t the solar at all. It appears to be the chapel.
Of course 'tis the chapel. Silly me
…
The rasp of stone scraping against stone startled her. She swung around and saw Jerome emerge from a frayed tapestry that concealed a side panel behind the molded fireplace—the secret passage Hildegarde had missed. Her breath quickened, but she remained in control. A scream, she knew would bring Dainty charging into the room.
Her arrogant young cousin was dressed in a brown hunting tunic and wolfskin cape. Her gaze went to the silver-scrolled pistols in his belt. He looked like a child playing soldiers.
"
Rowena.
"
He did not sound like the young boy she remembered
who set rabbits free from hunts
men
'
s traps. "I eavesdropped in the kitchens. One of the servants found this at the abbey crossroads.
It belonged to Frederic, did it not?
"
Rowena stared down at the shorn length of cloth he showed her. It was the sash and gold medallion Frederic had carried with such pride against his heart. Flakes of dried blood darkened the metal. She swallowed, feeling a wave of lightheadedness wash over her.
"I
'
m going to look for him," Jerome said.
"
He might have fallen into a ravine, unable to send for aid. He is not a young man. Will you help me?"
Silence fell. Dainty stood guard outside her door. Hildegarde had ventured down to the kitchens to oversee supper preparations, afraid they would be poisoned if she did not supervise the making of the soup.
Hildegarde and Rowena had liked Jerome as a child. But time and ambition stood between the two cousins. Was it possible the rebels hoped to put Jerome on the throne as their puppet? Had he really traveled here to engage her help, or to make certain she did not return home? Her father
'
s warnings about trust echoed in her mind.
"You were always good at finding people in the forest," he said earnestly. "Animals and people.
"
It was true. Rowena possessed a gypsy
'
s sixth sense when it came to following trails. She knew intuitively when a path had been disturbed. She was patient and perceptive and in touch with her instincts. Yet the Highland hills were not the familiar woods of home. The very mist here vibrated with mystical secrets.
She made the choice to trust her cousin, as she had decided to trust Douglas.
"
Give me a moment to change."
He sighed in relief. "Hurry."
D
ouglas cantered across the inhospitable heath, clumps of turf flying in his wake. Cold air stung his face as he rode against the wind that came shrieking down from the mountains. It was still early afternoon, but eerie burgundy-gold clouds darkened the sky. A storm would break before twilight.
'
Twas the kind of day that made even a pirate pray.
Aidan remained behind him, standing look-out on a lonely crag. They had searched every stream, cave, and copse in a widening circle for a place where a band of outlaws could take refuge.
Once the storm struck, they would have to find shelter themselves.
Douglas slowed his horse. A buzzard circled a distant cairn. He motioned over his shoulder to Aidan. He saw him draw a pistol from his belt.
"Don't come with me," Douglas said as the man reined in beside him.
"
This is a good place for an ambush.
"
Aidan
'
s gaze lifted to the cairn in cool agreement. "Aye."
Douglas eased off his horse. He unstrapped his sword and secured it between two smooth oblong
stones. Behind him Aidan readied his pistol and crossbow and laid both across his lap.
The wind had quieted. Douglas walked through the cairn, dying stalks of brown heather brushing his legs. He carried his pistol in his right hand, a dirk in the other. His shoulder ached, but sheer determination enabled him to ignore this weakness.
He sensed Aidan raise his bow.
He started to climb the hill to the cairn. The buzzard melted away into the blackening sky. A predator would not hover above a party of armed men.
A dead man was another matter.
His stomach tightened as he turned the body over. The man
'
s velvet tunic had been slashed from throat to midriff. Blood from countless stab wounds had seeped through the cloth.
"Frederic,
"
he said with a sigh. He
'
d barely recognized the princess
'
s advisor, but the blue Hartzburg cross embroidered on the man's empty scabbard gave away his identity.
The attack had been brutal and clumsy. Wolves lying in wait, except that those animals did not maul for sport.
He pressed his thumb to the man
'
s throat without thinking. The faintest pulsebeat throbbed, a thread of life, so tenuous he could have missed it. Frederic's breathing was so shallow he could not hear it. Yet there was hope.
A shadow fell across the cairn. Douglas looked
up to see Aidan stan
ding over him with an enor
mous flat stone.
Aidan gave Frederic a sympathetic look, lowering the stone. "I will bury him if you ride ahead.
"
"
No. He still lives.
"
Douglas's voice sounded as hoarse as the cries of the ravens coming from the abandoned abbey beyond the hills. He was thinking of how he would explain this to Rowena.
He would be responsible if Frederic died. The elderly man wo
uld have been safe if Douglas ha
d thwarted Neacail
'
s violence in the first place.
"
I will take Frederic back to the castle before the storm breaks. Perhaps his injuries are not as grave as they seem. Bring me the extra plaid from your horse, Aidan, and with luck we will not concern ourselves with the grim business of digging a grave.
"
D
ainty was furious and afraid. He
'
d failed Douglas now twice in a row. How was he going to explain that a mere woman had tricked him? Why had he trusted her when she
'
d asked not to be disturbed in her room? The castle was a blasted honeycomb of secret passages.
"That idiot Baldwin was right,
"
he said to himself.
"
What does a pirate want with a damn princess anyway?
"
Hildegarde
'
s hysterical ranting echoed in his ears as he thundered across the drawbridge. He had raided the guardroom and armed himself with every weapon he could lay his huge hands
on. Dainty was determined to take on the Devil himself to save her.
"
My lady will be dead by the time you find her!
"
Hildegarde shrieked as she pitched a shovel at him from the gatehouse. "This land is full of wolves and wickedness. What if Jerome has carried her off while you dozed at her door? What if villains have slit her throat while I made soup?
"
Dainty drew a draught of damp air into his lungs. He doubted
'
twas Jerome, or wild animals that he and Rowena would have to worry about.
'
Twas the Dragon
'
s wrath when he discovered that his right arm had let him down again.
D
ouglas leaned across the table, his face as gray as granite.
"
Woman, if you do not cease that bawling, I will not be responsible for my actions. When did your lady leave?
"
Hildegarde moaned into her hands.
"
I don
'
t know. Jerome took her. She left me a note—they were looking for poor Frederic. What if the men who attacked him find her? Why did I let her come here? Why?"
Douglas backed away from the table, regretting the time he had already lost returning to the castle. He could not afford to ready more fresh horses and provisions for a long hunt.
The storm had broken, and raw fear raked his mind at the thought of Rowena wandering beyond his protection.