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Authors: Without Honor

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Grant
shrugged. "The fool on watch wouldn't open the gate. That tale was the
best I could spin on short notice." He frowned. "We've trouble, Alex.
Your lass is in Scotland."

"What?"

Grant
held out one hand. A ruby earring nestled on his palm, one Alexander
recognized. "An English mercenary was nosing about Edinburgh today asking
for you. Naturally, the lads brought him in. We found this when we searched
him, but he'll say nothing to any save you. He looks the type to hold out so I
didn't waste time with persuasion."

"Let's
go then," Alexander said grimly.

Grant
caught his arm. "There's more. Murdoch's secretary sent me a copy of
this." He held out a note. "Murdoch's away, thank the saints. I had
your man steal the teal thing."

Alexander
frowned. "You know I only want copies. Stealing the real thing's the
fastest way—"

"When
you see it you'll understand," Grant interrupted.

Alexander
took the paper.
Jonet Douglas is in Scotland. She should be reaching
Edinburgh by the time you read this. Look for her traveling with a group of
York merchants.

The
note wasn't signed, but Alexander recognized the elegant hand. His eyes rose to
Grant's and he uttered one single descriptive syllable.

"Just
so," Grant agreed softly.

TWENTY-SIX

Patrick
of Smithfield was big and broad with hair the color of flame and a chin like
squared granite. Alexander approached the chair where he was tied. "I'm
Hepburn," he said bluntly. "You've a message for me, so I hear."

The
man looked him over. "So you're Alexander Hepburn. I've heard of
you."

"Most
men have. Now how the devil did you come by that earring and where is its owner
now?"

"Safe
enough. Untie me and get me out of this damned cellar and happen I'll tell
you."

Alexander
stepped close. "Tell me now or there won't be enough of you left to untie.
Understand?"

For
a moment the man simply stared, then he nodded. "The lass is safe enough.
Margaret Ross, she calls herself, though I didn't believe it for a minute. Said
she had to reach you with none the wiser. She's at an inn called the Three
Sisters with two of my best men on watch. I put her up respectable like, for
all she swore she wasn't no lady." The man grinned. "A bad liar, that
one."

Relief
swept Alexander. Jonet was safe. And by some miracle she'd fallen into decent
hands. "Aye, she is that," he agreed, feeling an almost painful
tension dissolving into a grin.

He
caught up his dagger, slitting the man's bonds. "I don't suppose I need
tell you to forget the lady and this little talk with me. If you don't, I'll
find you."

The
man stood. "I can keep a still tongue in my head, as can my men."

Alexander
nodded. "You'll have that ruby bauble back and I'll see you're repaid any
expense on the lady's behalf. Plus a little extra for any discomfort you've
been put to."

The
man shook his head. "I've no need to be paid twice for the same job. If
you'd be needin' good men, though, I can tell you of three who'd be yours for
the askin'."

"Would
one be you?"

"It
would."

"Then
consider yourself employed. The others as well if you vouch for them."
Alexander smiled. "Now, let's get out of this cellar. Like you, I've a
marked distaste for it. There'll be ale all around when we reach this inn of
yours."

***

Jonet
paced to the bed and back, then perched herself on the one rough chair the room
boasted. Patrick had settled her here, then gone off to find word of Alexander.
He'd been gone all afternoon and it was now well into the night. She didn't
think he'd abandoned her, but a dozen things could have gone wrong. And over
the last few hours she'd had the leisure to fear every one.

She
heard footsteps in the corridor, caught her breath as they stopped outside.
Then a knock. Two longs, two short. Patrick!

She
caught up her skirts and flew to the door, lifting the bolt to shove it wide.
And there was Alexander, filling the small hallway. For an instant she stood
transfixed. Then, "Alex!
Oh,
Alex,"
she choked,
flinging herself into his arms. "Thank God you're all right!"

Alexander
swung her up off the floor and stepped through the doorway. "I'm delighted
to see you of course, my love, but I prefer my reunions private."

He
turned and kicked the door shut, shifting an arm to let her slide against his
length to the floor. "And now that we've settled the problem of
privacy..."

His
arms tightened about her. His eyes held hers. "I want a proper kiss from
you, lass. And then, just possibly, I'll let you tell me why I shouldn't turn
you across my knee and give your backside a proper thrashing."

The
words were harsh, but the voice wasn't. Neither was the look in Alexander's
eyes. Jonet's heart soared. Impossible that this one man could hold all the
darkness at bay.

Standing
on tiptoe, she slid her arms around his neck and smiled. "I see you've
still a healthy interest in variety."

The
smile began in his eyes and spread to his sensual mouth. "That I do, lass.
But I've found no close friends to indulge me. Perhaps we can attend to that
later." And then his mouth lowered to hers for a kiss that began slow and
ended up hungry.

"Ah,
Jonet," he said at last, "what you've put me through these last two
hours." He caught her face with both hands and stared. "Why the devil
did you risk coming here and why were you surprised to find me all right?"

Jonet
took a deep breath. She'd been practicing all day how to tell him the truth,
but none of it seemed right. "Because Diana is scheming with the French to
see you dead," she blurted out. "And they're all in league with
Murdoch!"

Alexander's
expression didn't change. "I see. Can you tell me how you've reached that
interesting conclusion?"

She
hadn't expected him to take it so calmly. Haltingly she recounted what she'd
learned. "I'm sorry, Alex," she said at last. "I know you... you
liked Diana."

Alexander
studied her thoughtfully. "Jonet, you've risked a great deal to come here.
It's my fault you've been in danger. It's my fault you still are. But I promise
you Diana isn't working with the French."

"Oh,
Alex, didn't you listen?" she cried. "I know you trust her but she's
obviously betrayed you! One time at least, probably more! And now they're all
planning—"

Alexander
caught her shoulders. "Jonet, listen to me. Diana isn't working with the French.
I
know
she isn't working with the French."

"But
I heard the man. He spoke French!"

"I'm
sure he did." Alexander looked at her oddly. "And I'm telling you if
you overheard any secret conversation spoken by Diana Hampton, she damn well
meant for you to. Diana's better at this hellish game than I am."

"What?"

"Had
you been frequenting that arbor by chance on any regular basis?"

Jonet
frowned. "Usually in the late afternoon when I was sick to death of my
sewing."

"And
then you discovered that this party from York just happened to be heading here
the next day?"

Jonet
nodded.

Alexander's
face was grim. "Diana will have a great deal to answer for the next time I
see her. But it won't be for any connivance against me."

"But,
Alexander, there was a letter. A letter to Murdoch," Jonet explained
patiently. "I didn't see it but I heard them discussing it."

"Aye,
lass, there was a letter. I saw it and burned it near two hours ago. But it
wasn't about me. It informed Murdoch Douglas that you were in Edinburgh traveling
with a group of York merchants."

Jonet
stood very still. So the Douglases knew she was in Scotland. Well, it had been
worth it to warn Alex. "A letter about me?" she murmured. "But
how did you get it?"

"I
can't answer that. Just be thankful Murdoch never saw it."

"Oh."
Jonet took a deep breath, struggling to reshape her thinking. Her eyes rose to
his. And suddenly it was all very plain. "Diana sent me back here on
purpose, didn't she? On purpose to be taken."

"Aye,"
he murmured, drawing her into his arms. "And she'll answer to me for the
deed. But who I'll answer to for being such a fool as to leave you there—"

He
broke off. Jonet leaned into him, fighting the tears. She thought of the
grueling ride from the border, the uncomfortable night spent in the open with
rough men she neither knew nor trusted, all the miserable hours of fear and
suspense worrying about Alexander... about Thomas Douglas. And she thought of
Diana's words as well.

Alexander
and
I
are going to be married. It's high time you knew.

But
if she asked him now she would weep. "I'm tired, Alex," she
whispered. "I'm so tired of being a fool."

She
felt his fingers, soothing, quieting, beneath the hair at the nape of her neck.
Then they were gently unfastening the hooks of her gown. "You're no fool,
Jonet. You've just the misfortune to have fallen in with some individuals
wholly without honor. It's a way of life you weren't bred to, lass, and one I'd
not have you learn. And if that weren't the case, I'd—"

He
broke off again. She felt him draw in a deep breath. He slipped the dress from
her shoulders, bending to press his mouth against her throat. "I'm going
to put you to bed, now," he murmured, "and join you if you're
willing."

She
tried for a light tone. "And just why do you think I've ridden the better
part of two days?"

He
slid the shift from her shoulders, holding her against him, kissing her so
tenderly it brought back the ache to her throat. "I've not the remotest
notion why you should have bothered," he murmured, "nor what's best
to do on the morrow. I only know that for now I'll bless God's grace that
you're safe. And that you're here right now in my arms."

He
lifted her, extinguishing the candle and depositing her in bed. Then he removed
his clothing and joined her, drawing her into the curve of his body so that she
felt warm and safe for what seemed like the first time in ages.

Jonet
closed her eyes, reveling in the warmth and security of his arms around her, of
his knees tucked intimately against the curve of hers. And then she slept.

***

Alexander
rose early, dressing and slipping downstairs. The inn was just stirring and he
found Grant in the common room, nursing a pint of ale. "All quiet?"

"Aye."

Alexander
looked around. "Where's Patrick?"

"I
sent him to bed. I've got men fanned out in the streets so we'll have a bit of
warning if any come nosin' about."

Alexander
nodded and sat down, calling for an ale and a hearty tray of breakfast for two.

"How's
the lass?"

"Exhausted."

"You're
in a braggin' mood so I see."

Alexander
glanced up sharply. "Then you see ill. I meant just what I said. Jonet was
exhausted. She's been through a lot, thanks to me."

"Then
you're a twice disappointed man, I suspect." Grant took a long,
disapproving sip of his ale. "That was a cozy armful I dragged you from
last night. I've heard tell that much disappointment can sicken a man."

"That
cozy armful was one of the king's whores." Alexander frowned. "No,
that's wronging the lad. I suspect he has better taste. I should say the
illustrious Nan belongs to any man George Douglas tells her to bed. It just
happened to be me last night." He sipped his ale. "And what George
doesn't view in person, he hears in next morning's report. Or so the king
warned me."

"What
a pleasing group," Grant remarked. "Our James'll be bored silly in
London after an upbringing like that."

"Actually,
there's been a change in plan. The lad's not going to London."

A
large knothole graced the plank table. Grant concentrated on placing his
tankard in perfect alignment. "No? And why's that?"

"The
lad doesn't choose to. Said he's ready to be a king."

Grant
continued to toy with the tankard. "And what of the letter, Alex? What of
the truth?"

Alexander
took a long drink of ale. "Perhaps I'll find a way to get my hands on it
one day. I only know I couldn't get it like this. I don't think my father would
have wanted it that badly."

Grant
lifted his eyes. He was smiling one of his rare smiles. "I never knew your
father, lad, but I suspect he'd be a proud man just now."

Alexander
met his smile with a rueful look. "Actually he'd be telling me not to brag
till the job was done. And warning me not to be so eager I overlooked
something."

He
met Grant's eyes. "Edinburgh Castle is far too closely guarded. It'll have
to be when James rides out. The lad's mad for his hunting. Perhaps we can
arrange it so that the hare outwits the hounds for once."

Just
then a sleepy maid hurried up with the tray of food Alexander had ordered. He
dropped several coins on the table and rose. "Call Jem in here and you
catch some sleep. We'll need sharp wits these next few days."

"I
take it the work's to be soon then."

"As
soon as I see the way clear. Next week, perhaps, when Angus attends the justice
eyres." Alexander frowned and glanced at the tray. "Jonet can't go to
London now. I won't have her there to risk Wolsey's displeasure. Besides, if
things come off as I hope, there'll be no need for her to leave Scotland. And
if they don't

He
reached into his doublet and drew out a letter. "Send one of the men to
Durnam with this. It's a letter for Duncan Maxwell explaining some small part
of the situation. Bring him here. If anything unexpected happens, the lass'll
have a kinsman to stand by her at least."

He
sent Grant a long look. "And if I'm not here, see that they both get over
the border to Lyle."

"And
what of Lyle? What of Diana? Wolsey and his pack'll be none too pleased with
them."

Alexander's
frown deepened. "I know. That's the problem."

"And
Mure?"

Alexander
picked up the tray without looking up. "The trial's today. I doubt he'll
be a factor much longer."

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