The Beauty of the Mist (42 page)

Sir Thomas wanted her out of his life. He wanted things to go back to where it had been, before she came. But even as that thought crystallized in his mind, he knew it was too late. He had already lost his daughter. Looking blankly at the burning torch hanging on a wall, Sir Thomas felt old. Very old.

“Retire to your bedchamber, old man,” she taunted, backing away a step. “Go rest your weary body and be sure to pray for your soul.”

Sir Thomas stared at her. But now he could see through her. He saw the hollow shell of a person and nothing more.

He walked away, wishing her out of his life.

“Aye. And you may do as you please.”

“Jack Heart, I knew you’d come.” The young king leaped up from the writing table and crossed the chamber toward the Highlander.

John held up a hand and then glanced quickly into the hall. He wanted to make sure the steward wasn’t lurking on the steps. Then, pushing the door nearly closed, he turned to Kit and put his hands on the young king’s shoulders.

“We have very little time, your majesty. We have a large army gathering near Stirling, and they are waiting for you to arrive before moving. The plan is to take you out of the Palace tonight, disguised as one of us. They won’t know you’re missing until morning, and by then we’ll be half way to Stirling.”

“But the steward! He’ll be coming back soon. He’ll surely raise an alarm.”

John quietly removed a sharp dagger from the inside of his high boots and held it in his hand. “He will not be talking, sire.”

With a grim look on his face, the young king nodded and quickly went to the massive bed, pulling a bundle of worn clothing from beneath. Pulling them apart, he spread the garments on the bed. They looked like clothes someone had stripped from a stable boy.

“I found these in my chamber this morning when I came back from working the hawks. I don’t know who it left them, but I knew something was about to happen.”

“If you would put them on, sire, you’ll draw far less attention when the time comes to pass along the roads.”

Kit immediately started removing his clothes as John kept watch by the open door.

“They’ve at least doubled the number of soldiers around Falkland,” the King said, pulling on a ragged tunic. “Sir Thomas Maule and his...and his wife arrived yesterday with a company of a thousand men. But they told me you might arrive as early as next week to escort me to Edinburgh. Angus is surely thinking those loyal to me would once again use an army to try and free me. We are more clever than that! We’ll smash him this time, won’t we, Jack Heart?”

John smiled over his shoulder at the eager young man. Some of the nobles had questioned whether King James would agree to leave the Palace at all, considering the fact that his bride to be was already in Scotland...and a marriage was all it would take to test Angus’s promise. After all, they’d argued, the Lord Chancellor had given his word to the King to relinquish his power after the wedding. But now, seeing Kit’s unhesitating response to the plan to free him, John knew that he had argued correctly that the young king knew Angus to be a liar. What the Highlander didn’t know, was when exactly in the past weeks Kit had given up on the dubious hope the marriage offered.

“Aye, your majesty.
Your
time has come.”

Caroline Maule watched her husband’s back without emotion until it disappeared into their chamber. But the slamming of the door brought a sneering smile to her lips. She had hurt him more deeply than he’d shown.

At the sound of the footsteps coming down the stairs, she whirled, and, moving cautiously to the open door leading to the landing, she waited in the dimly lit corridor. There had been something odd about the man–the Queen’s messenger–something that was nagging at her. Watching the reflected light of the flaring torch grow brighter as the bearer descended, Caroline was sure she’d remember if she saw him again.

The sight of the solitary steward coming around the bend of the stairwell brought a frown to Caroline’s brow.

“Where is the other man?” she asked abruptly, stepping in front of the startled steward. “There were two of you up there.”

The man, taken aback with the abruptness of her interrogation, raised the torch, looking for Sir Thomas. But there was no one else on the landing. “The King told the messenger to wait. His majesty is writing a letter to his bride, and he wants the man to take it tonight.”

“Aren’t there other couriers available?” she barked, her temper seething quickly to the surface. After all that she’d told this foolish boy-king about his fraudulent bride ...and he still had to write her a letter. Foolish, foolish boy, she thought darkly. He deserved to be locked up for the rest of his life. “When we arrived, my husband specifically told you not to leave the King alone with any strangers. He’ll have your head on a pike if something happens to the King.”

“But King Jamie wanted something from the kitchen sent up, m’lady...for himself and the man...there was naught else for me to do.” The steward’s voice took on a pleading tone as he scrambled for more excuses. “He is just standing and waiting, m’lady. The man left his weapons down the steps...”

“Have you seen this man before?” Caroline interrupted. “Is he one of your normal couriers?”

The steward shook his head slowly. “Nay, m’lady. I’ve never seen this one before. But then again, it seems every time they send someone else...”

“Did he give you a name?” she interrupted again. “Or what clan he belongs to?”

The steward ran his hand nervously over his bristly chin for a moment before lifting his face brightly to the woman. “Aye, m’lady. Jack Heart. One of the one’s with him called him Jack Heart. Not a common name, I’d say, but as to his clan...”

Caroline face went white, but it was her hand clutching at his collar that made the man stare at her in terror.

“You fool,” she whispered hoarsely. “It is a plot to abduct the King. Jack Heart...Jack Heart...”

Caroline repeated his name again and again and shoved the wide-eyed steward away from her. “Run and get my husband. Tell him John Macpherson is here. Tell him he has come to steal the king from under his nose. Then raise the alarm.”

The steward bolted for their chamber as Caroline went quickly up the steps, a vicious smile on her lips.

“You are mine, John,” she murmured bitterly, drawing a small dagger from her belt. “This time I have
you
at my mercy.”

“The letters, John,” the young King called at the last moment as they readied themselves to step onto the landing. He pointed to the piling of the letters on his desk. “Get me those letters. I can’t leave them behind.”

John quickly moved to Kit’s desk and picked up the few folded parchments from the table. They all had to be Maria’s letters, he thought, seeing the seal. But before he could make it back to the door, where the King stood pulling on a filthy cap, John saw her shadow gliding across the landing.

She moved behind Kit before the Highlander could reach them.

“Not so fast, John,” she said in an peculiarly husky voice. He could see the small dagger she held to the side of the King’s neck. “Isn’t this far more pleasant than the last time we met.”

John glanced behind her at the landing, but there was no one there. His mind racing, he tried to decide if they could disarm her. But one look at the crazed look in her eye and the sharp blade beneath Kit’s jaw convinced him that the lad would be hurt if John rushed them. Kit wouldn’t have a chance. John needed to distract her somehow.

“You didn’t want me. You practically threw me out of your cabin, remember?” Her hand was shaking. “And that paragon of virtue, our future Queen...you were kissing the slut, I believe, on the threshold to your bedchamber.”

John saw no reaction on Kit’s face to her words, the young man’s face lacked all expression save the look of a man waiting for a chance to break free.

“Oh, his majesty knows all about it,” Caroline laughed, seeing the direction of John’s glance. “I’ve told him everything–and Angus, too. Don’t you think that everyone should know that our good Lord of the Navy couldn’t keep his hands off our precious queen. And our noble queen! Well, she just couldn’t stay away from your bed, now could she? Now throw down your dagger.”

John complied, gritting his teeth and fighting back the urge to lunge for her neck, shutting her mouth permanently.

“But this time, Jack Heart, she is not here to save your unfaithful neck. She is not going to appear suddenly out of the mist–as she did at her brother’s Palace– and swear lies for your honor’s sake.”

John felt his whole body tense at Caroline’s words.

“Aye,” Caroline continued, her voice dripping with bitter irony. “For
your
honor. She knew I would go to the Emperor. She knew I would have your head on a platter. Ha, you must outdone yourself in her bed, for the bitch to take such risks.”

John recalled once again Isabel’s letter. They were waiting for a ship, and then Maria had disappeared from Hart Haus. There was nothing to stop the two women from sailing on to Castile. She had only gone back to the Palace for him, to save his miserable life.

Chaos reigned momentarily in the Highlander’s brain. He was a fool. How could he have been so blind? He had maligned her, slandered her, acted such that he had put her in danger a dozen times. Pulling his scattered thoughts back together, he recalled the night of the welcoming feast in Antwerp. She had acted out of love, he’d acted out of hatred. The pain, the remembrance of her bright teary eyes looking at him when they’d parted at the Abbey of Holyrood now tore at the fibers of his heart.

“But I almost ruined you there, anyway,” she cried out angrily. “I secured an audience with the Emperor, but at the last moment she appeared, looking like some bewildered innocent and swore lies through her teeth.” She pushed the dagger closer to the king’s neck. “She can’t save you this time, John. She can’t. No one can.”

“Caroline!” John snapped, seeing the wild look in the woman’s face. She was ready to thrust the point of the blade into the king’s neck. “That’s not Maria beneath your dagger. That is not my neck beneath the blade. That is your King you hold–God’s anointed. Your fight is with me, not with him. There is no salvation for the murderer of a King. Let him go, Caroline.”

As Caroline shook her blonde hair back with a disgusted laugh, John saw Sir Thomas–his sword fully drawn–appear on the landing.

“The ever so loyal John Macpherson. I know he is the King, you fool. But this pathetic little boy is your King, not mine...”

Caroline Maule never took her eyes off John’s face as she pulled at the King’s hair, exposing his throat more clearly to the gleaming edge of her dagger.

“You have me now, Caroline. There is no way I can get out of here alive. What else do you want? Let him go.”

“That’s too easy, my love,” she cooed. “Your own death, painful as I’m sure it will be, is hardly enough. On the other hand, to watch someone you cherish so much die right before your eyes. To watch his royal blood drain away–with naught you can do to stop it–now that’s pain that you cannot bear. I know you all too well, Jack Heart.”

“You are mad, Caroline! You can’t just murder a King!” John took a step toward her. The sudden tensing of Kit’s body showed that her dagger had pierced his skin. John stopped, watching the thin rivulet of blood run down the King’s young neck. “You’ll be disgraced, Caroline. Publicly tortured and hung. Your head will grace the pike next to mine. This goes beyond hurting me. In killing the King, you are killing yourself, the future of Scotland!”

“Do you think any of this matters to me?”

The Highlander looked directly at Sir Thomas, who was now standing behind his wife. “Stop her.”

Caroline gave a quick glance behind her shoulder at her husband. John watched for his chance, but she never eased the pressure of the blade on the king’s throat.

“Ah, our aging hero has at last arrived. It certainly took you long enough. Where are the rest of our men?”

“The steward went after them.” Sir Thomas’s voice was deadly calm. “He is cornered here, Caroline. Release the king.”

“The man of wisdom speaks,” she laughed ironically. “But I am in charge here now, my dear husband. So shut your mouth and do as you are told. Go and make him kneel before us. Make him kneel before his King.”

“He is unarmed, Caroline,” the knight said quietly. “There is no reason for any further action until the others arrive. Now release the King, I said.”

“You coward,” she hissed, ignoring his last words. “You are afraid he’ll kill you.”

“That’s what you really want, isn’t it?” Sir Thomas said in disbelief.

“Perhaps it is.” She shrugged her shoulders and cackled wildly. “But you can’t have everything you want, can you. Well, I’m not unreasonable. I might settle for less.”

The young king now twisted in pain as Caroline’s blade dug deeper into the flesh of his neck. The Highlander could see how close she was to the lad’s vein. The next time her eyes flickered away from him, John decided, he was going after her.

“You are a Douglas, my dear husband. Contrary to what your treacherous daughter did to me, turning against me and warning the slut queen back in Antwerp, you’ve been forgiven of her sins.”

“Janet?” Sir Thomas asked confused.

“You fought at Flodden,” John called to the knight. “You were loyal to your King. Don’t allow clan loyalty destroy your honor. Your allegiance is to the King above all else.”

“Aye. Janet! That blind bat, your stupid, vicious creature you once called ‘daughter.’ If it wasn’t for her, John Macpherson would be dead by now. But I took care of her. I drove her away.”

“You drove Janet away?” Sir Thomas asked incredulously.

“Thomas,” John called. “Remember the blood, the lives we lost, to gain our freedom, our liberty? Can’t you see what Angus is doing to us? To Scotland? He has already called on the Emperor to move in. Don’t let this happen, Thomas.”

“He will die, John. This boy will die,” she announced. “And it won’t matter to Angus, or to anyone else, if he dies. Angus will be King. At last, a Douglas will be King.”

As if waking from a trance, Sir Thomas’s eyes cleared and he took a step toward his wife. “Stop, Caroline. You are mad. You cannot kill the King. Release him now!”