Heaven and the Heather (9 page)

“Oy, big lad,” he said. “Ye’ll find that Lord Campbell is more yer type.”

The sun brightened on the giant’s face. “I shall go, then, while the queen’s occupied with her escort.”

Niall slapped him on the meat of his arm. “Hurry before he gets away.”

Canard turned with no semblance of grace at all and left in great haste.

Spared from a fate he dared not muse on a second longer, Niall sighed relief and stole into the corridor.

“The queen is in the great hall,” Rory said as he followed him along the corridor well lit by stout candles in iron sconces. “Should ye no’ be trying to speak with her?”

“In good time. First I’m gonnae prove to one of her court that a MacGregor honors an agreement.” Niall glanced back at Her Majesty dancing and smiling at her escort, her gaze tied only to him. “I will see Her Majesty in due time…after her dance.”

“Oh, aye….” Rory said, confused.

Niall walked deeper into the palace than good sense told him to travel. But he had left his good sense at the garden wall with his claymore.

After endless steps and endless minutes of wrestling with himself that being here was pure folly and he should leave, Niall stopped before one of the many doors. It was ajar. A female’s voice, French, not Sabine’s, wafted into the corridor. He peered inside.

Niall took a deep breath and a step deeper into a world he never thought he would see. ’Twas a bloody dream he saw asleep on the bed in the dim chamber. Now, if only she would welcome him….

L
ord Campbell stood before Sabine, a nasty grin spread across his face. Slowly, he displayed his hands to her. His palms were coated in blood. The red was more vivid than the brightest realgar, a pigment so poisonous le maître told her to avoid it at any cost.

“Come forward, my darling.”

Lord Campbell’s voice clamped long icy fingers about her soul. Sabine floated to him, unable to control herself.

He thrust his hand at her. Methodically, with great care, Sabine lifted her damaged hand. It clenched a brush. She dipped it into the crimson in Lord Campbell’s palm.

“Show me your art, my darling,” he said.

Sabine turned and placed the brush heavy with pigment against a piece of parchment. The paint ran in rivulets, building upon each other, thickening. The metallic odor assaulted her. Sabine reeled backward, dropping the brush.

Her mouth opened in a silent scream. The parchment was finished. The blue eyes of the dead Highland fox she had painted stared back at her. She could not help him….

Sabine sat up with a start.

She gasped, unaware of where she was, terrified that she was still trapped in that nightmare. Her head throbbed, so she must be.

“
Chérie, chérie
. Your dream, was it bad?”

Sabine fell into the embrace of one of the attendants. “Oh, what has happened? Did Lord Campbell slaughter the Highland fox?”

“
Comment?
I do not understand this, Sabine.”

The attendant pulled away and took a plate from the small table beside the large bed. She offered Sabine a scrap of bread dipped in honey.

“Eat this. You need your strength. Lord Campbell wishes you to return to the masque in an hour.”

Sabine ate the bread, not because of Lord Campbell, never because of him, but because her belly was empty. The honey dripped down her tongue, nourishing her, reminding her of the sweet plum juice Niall had licked from her fingers. What had become of him?

She glanced about the chamber, her thoughts too much on Niall and his fate and her deep secret hope that she would see him again. Instead she saw a well-lit, strangely cheerful hearth, tapestries of dancing nymphs covering the walls, and heavy, dark furniture against the walls like brooding centurions. But a gaol was a gaol no matter how decorated. Niall was certain to be in the bowels of the royal gaol by now, he and that friend of his, awaiting some dire fate. Sabine quickly prayed to Saint Giles it was not true.

She swallowed the lump of bread, lifted another piece to her lips then paused. Her gaze fell upon the shadows by the chamber door. What was there? A Highland fox?

She turned back to her food, shaking away her imagination. Another thought occurred to her, one that made the bread go down smoother. Niall could be well away from this place after his ridiculous performance. Surely, he would not have shown his true face to Her Majesty. A Highland fox would not be that foolish, would he?

“Highland fox,” she whispered. “Absurd.”

“Aye, absurd, my thoughts exactly.”

Her falcon mask landed in her lap.

Sabine dropped the uneaten bit of bread to her lap as she sat up on the bed. She was face to face with the blue-eyed Highland fox. “How dare you invade this chamber! No man is allowed within!” Her harsh tone concealed her relief that he was not imprisoned or dead.

“Not even a Highland fox?”

Niall walked boldly and arrogantly over to her bedside. His companion, wearing the bear mask, followed.

“Begone!” the attendant cried. “Or I shall call the guards!”

“Take care of her, Rory. See that she doesnae leave,” Niall ordered.

Sabine watched in horror as the “bear” stalked over to the hapless attendant and pressed her into the tapestry-covered wall with his body.

“Do not harm her!” she shouted.

“Wheesht!” Niall said. “Rory’ll not hurt her, unless she tries to rally all the queen’s men against us.”

Sabine sat higher on the bed, tipped her chin up. “Leave.”

“I only came to honor our agreement.” He reached inside his doublet and produced her
sac
. “Ye fainted before I could give it to ye, before I could speak to the queen.”

“I never faint.” Sabine grabbed for her property. Niall held it beyond her reach. “I had drink on an empty belly. You delayed me from returning to the masque, so I had not the opportunity to dine before the
comèdie
I got you into the masque. I honored my word.”

“As I recall,
mademoiselle
, ye were wandering about in the garden, unescorted. You could have dined. Yet, ye were escaping from the masque or was it something else?”

“Nothing else, Highlander.”

“You are a
breugadair
,” he said moving closer still, retaining her property.

“
Comment?
” she asked.

“A liar,” he replied. “Ye dinnae wish to marry Campbell.” He shook her
sac
. The coins jingled. “Ye want to escape farther than the royal gardens, oh aye.” He shook the
sac
again. “
Very
far.”

Sabine stole a furtive glance at the other Highlander and the attendant. The burly Highlander held the attendant’s complete attention and both of her hands. Those two were oblivious to her conversation with Niall. What beasts these Highlanders were with their animal brutality and lack of decorum, taking advantage of hapless girls. She turned to look at Niall, who stared and grinned at her. She shuddered under his gaze. He knew the mettle of his woolly friend. Yet, would he press his advantage upon her as well? She should not ponder such matters because…

“By the order of my queen I must marry him,” she said, and glanced down at her hands. “I am a loyal servant.”

“Ye mean a loyal pawn, d’ye not?”

She stiffened. “I am no pawn.”

“Ye will marry Campbell and bridge Her Majesty’s power to the Highlands, or will it that by marrying Campbell ye’ll bridge him to the royal court.”

“How do you know these things?”

“I’ve lived in Scotland for all of my score and three years,” he replied. “Ye’ve lived here for what…three days?”

She looked away. He was right. She would never let him know, of course!

She deemed to return her gaze to him, heat grew behind her eyes. “You must go now after you return what is mine.”

Embarrassingly, her stomach rumbled.

Niall grinned and took up the bit of bread that she had dropped to her lap and raised it to her lips. “Ye’re a muckle peckish. Eat.”

For once he spoke with sense, at least she thought he did. Those Scottish words were so confusing.

She opened her mouth and allowed him to slide the bread onto her tongue. Let him serve her. The honey left a trail on her bottom lip and on Niall’s finger. She closed her lips, softly around it. Her tongue flickered over the honey on his finger until it was clean of it. How liberating to do something so absurd! It must be the wine gone to her head.

“Lovely,” Niall said sliding his finger over her lips. He swiped it through the honey on the plate. This sweetness he did not give to her, but kept for himself. “So, very lovely,” he said. Did he speak of her?

Sabine straightened and blinked. “Remove that mask. You look absurd.”

“Oh, aye? I thought I look quite dashing. Yer lover didnae even recognize me.”

“Lover? You speak a lie, Niall MacGregor. I do not love Campbell. I hardly know the man.”

He reached to the bedside table and took up a knob of beef from the trencher. He took a large bite of the meat. “Campbell seems to enjoy having you for a pet. But that is the way of the wealthy, marry someone ye dinnae know and suffer the rest of yer life in gilded glory.” She tried to snatch her
sac
from him. He immediately held it beyond her reach.

She huffed. “You are so very rude. And that is my supper that you seem to be so very much enjoying.”

Niall stopped chewing. “Was this yers?” He held the beef out to her.

“You know very well that it is mine.” She looked away catching a glimpse of the attendant and the Highland bear, now unmasked, sharing what appeared to be intimate conversation before the tapestry of dancing nymphs. The woman twirled a lock of her golden hair about her forefinger, and looked at the Highlander through her dark lashes, a coy smile on her lips. If the attendant heard her and Niall, they seemed unconcerned, oblivious. Sabine looked away. “How dare you call me Campbell’s pet.”

“You deny that he doesnae enjoy having ye beside him.”

“Campbell relishes his proximity to Her Majesty more.”

She could not help but look into the blue eyes of this Highland man, sitting so close to her.

Free me.

Sabine gasped. Had she said that aloud? Niall’s face showed no reaction. He took another bite of meat before setting it back on the plate.

“Why are you really here, away from your wild home?” she asked.

He swallowed. The sinew of his strong neck tightened. “‘Wild home’. Ye speak of the Highlands with a soft music in yer voice, as if they were far more agreeable to ye than this place. Do they entice ye a wee bit?”

“I have never been to these Highlands. How can they possibly agree with me, much less entice me?”

Niall leaned forward on the bed, the warmth of his breath touched her face. The scent of the meat on his breath drew her nearer to him than she would dare. Her belly rumbled again.

He reached around her, his knuckles brushing the side of her breast. She thought, or did she hope, he was going to hold her, but the next thing she knew he held the knob of beef before her astonished eyes.

“Eat, and I’ll tell ye why I’m here.”

“Perchance I do not wish to know.”

“If that were true,” he said. “Ye would have screamed for the guards.”

Sabine harumphed and took the meat from him. She was not going to let him feed her again. She bit into it. The juices exploded on her tongue, filling her mouth. She chewed and swallowed then took another bite, before realizing Niall was staring at her.

“And ye called
me
savage,” he said. “Ye eat with all of the delicacy of a wolf on fresh prey.”

“I eat because I’m hungry. I eat with ferocity because I’m angry,” she snapped.

“Why?”

“I want my
sac
. You waste time with me here, when you could go to the queen.”

“Aye, I will go to her, and I havenae been wasting my time with ye. I will honor our agreement. I wish ye to know this and more.”

Niall reached into the pouch at his belt and produced a folded piece of paper. He snapped it open and displayed it before her eyes.

She read the harsh edict set forth by the queen’s councilors before Her Majesty had set foot in Scotland.

“By fire and sword!” she gasped.

“Savage words, aye?” he said taking the paper away and tucking it into his pouch.

“
Oui
,” she breathed. “They are quite savage.”

“The name MacGregor is a blight upon the land through no fault of our own. More powerful clans have courted the monarchy against us. When Mary arrived I saw hope that, aye, she might agree that MacGregors have a right to live in peace without fear our land will be taken and our people killed as her Privy Council has decreed, as Campbell has enacted by murdering my father and brother. I have no doubt that I will be next, then the rest of my clan, one by one or more.”

“This is how you Highlanders live, in fear?” Sabine tried to understand.

“Not all of us. Some have the monarchy to protect them, like Campbell. He despises my clan because our lands share the same boundaries.”