Chapter Twenty-Four
Gregory and his men were barely past the guards at the gate to Edinburgh when he remembered why he hated the place. Give him country air anytime over the smells, smoke and crowds of a city.
The guards weren’t too happy to share the location of Holyroodhouse. Gregory shook his head as they rode off. He was certain there were plenty of guards at the king’s residence to protect him.
“First we need to put our names in to speak with the king. Then we must find an inn where we can obtain a bedchamber so we can all clean up. It won’t be necessary for ye to be dressed formally since ye won’t be standing before king, but guarding my back while I stand before him.”
They rode a short way before stopping at a clean-looking inn. “Run inside and see if they have a room or two,” Gregory said to Luke.
The man was out within minutes, a big smile on his face. “Aye, he has two rooms and the smells coming from the kitchen are making my stomach verra happy.”
The men rode their horses to the stable behind the inn. Once they left instructions to the stable lads, Gregory grabbed his satchel and headed inside. Luke was right, the smells were wonderful.
A young lass of no more than ten years, most likely a daughter of the innkeeper, showed them upstairs to their rooms. “Lass, can ye arrange to send a message to the king’s residence?”
Her eyes grew wide. “The king?”
“Aye. If ye get it to Holyroodhouse fast, there will be a coin for ye.”
“I must ask my da.”
Gregory nodded. “Go ask him and also please request a bath be sent up while I write the note.”
She scurried away and Gregory looked around. “Based on what the woman at the inn told us, The Gunn and his group should have arrived only a few hours before us. I ken it is impossible to be granted an audience with His Majesty quickly, so I think we have time.”
“What sort of note will ye be sending?” John asked as he flopped down on the bed.
“Get off there with yer dirty clothes on,” Gregory said. “I am going to tell the king to expect to hear from The Gunn and The Sinclair and I wish to be granted an audience at the same time because what they will be discussing directly affects me.”
He started to remove his clothes when three men carried in a bathtub and buckets of water. Once they filled the tub about halfway, the young girl came back to the room.
“Aye sir, my da says I can take a note to the Holyroodhouse if ye give me another coin for him, too.” She smiled, which made Gregory smile back.
“Aye lass. Once ye return from the king’s residence I will give ye two coins. One for ye and one for yer da. Do ye have any parchment or other type of paper and a writing instrument I can use?”
She looked confused.
“Ask yer da. Or mam.”
She hurried away, the sound of her feet racing down the stairs.
“Ye can all take a break and sip on an ale downstairs while I enjoy my bath.” Gregory waved them off.
*
Megan paced the floor in the bedchamber she’d been given. It had been two days since they’d arrived at Edinburgh. She’d been allowed out of the room twice a day with two of The Gunn’s men to take a walk outside.
As much as she’d loved getting out of the room, she was always anxious to get back because of the crowds. The place smelled atrocious and people pushed and shoved to get where they were going.
And so many times she had to duck or else be doused with a bucket of God-knew-what from a window.
All she wanted right now was Gregory’s arms wrapped around her and a trip back to Castle Leod. She had grown to love the place and the people she’d met there. Beth was very helpful and kind.
The clan healer, Emma, had helped her learn much more in healing than she’d already known.
Her thoughts turned to the battle Emma had been having with the Gunn warrior who was trying to have her let him return to the battle, even though it appeared he had a broken leg, or two.
She smiled thinking that the warrior had no idea how determined Emma was when it came to her healing skills.
He might be a strong warrior, but Emma could certainly hold her own with the men.
Her thoughts drifted to The Gunn’s and Anthony’s drunken conversation she’d overheard when they stayed at the inn. She had always wondered why Robert had been slain in that minor skirmish. He’d been a strong and wonderful warrior who had fought numerous battles and rarely ever suffered an injury.
No matter how things turned out for her—and she prayed very hard every day that she would return to Castle Leod with Gregory—she fully intended to let the king know about Robert’s death.
A slight knock on the door drew her away from her thoughts. Without invitation, The Gunn opened the door and looked her up and down. “Ye will do. When ye are married to me, ye will burn all yer clothes and have new ones made that appeal to me.”
Megan drew herself up. “I will ne’er be married to ye.”
He strode across the room and leaned into her face. “Once we are married—and we will be married—ye will hold yer tongue or spend a great deal of time recovering.”
She shivered, praying once again that Gregory had seen Mrs. Bruce and received her necklace.
The Gunn grabbed her arm and practically dragged her from the room. “We are expected at Holyroodhouse to see the king. Ye will behave yerself or pay the price once we leave.” He put his hand to her back and pushed her.
Megan stumbled, but caught herself before she fell. The Gunn continued to drag her down the stairs and out of the inn. There was a carriage a few feet from the door with a very bored driver sitting at the top.
The Gunn shoved her into the carriage. Anthony was already inside and caught her before she hit the floor of the vehicle.
She sat across from him and smoothed out the garment they had provided her.
At least they’d gotten enough petticoats that once she put her arisaid on she felt covered.
Somehow they had managed to clean the garment, and she was thankful they did not make her wear the Gunn plaid to appear before the king.
Once they arrived and climbed out of the carriage, she suddenly felt extremely nervous. She looked up at the building and realized she could very well leave there annulled from Gregory and married to The Gunn.
She broke into a sweat and felt as though she would faint. Once more The Gunn grabbed her arm and moved her forward.
They were left waiting in a small room for over an hour. Finally, a courtier arrived and said the king would see them. Again Megan felt as though she would faint and her legs felt like water.
They arrived in front of King George II. If Megan had not been so terrified she would have given the king more notice. But to her he was the man who could destroy her life.
“What is this nonsense that is brought before me? Why can’t you Highlanders keep from fighting all the time? You take up my time to resolve issues you should settle yourselves.”
Sinclair bowed before the king and said, “I am sorry to take up yer time, Yer Majesty, but this is an issue that only ye can resolve.”
The king said nothing, but waved him on.
“My nephew, Robert Sinclair, Laird of Sinclair clan died unexpectedly in a minor battle. As is the law, his wife, Megan Sinclair came under my protection.”
The king didn’t comment only waved for him to continue.
“In order to keep my niece Megan Sinclair protected and cared for, I arranged a betrothal agreement between her and Laird Stephen Angus Gunn.”
“And why am I involved in this?” The king asked.
“Because apparently my nephew made an agreement with Gregory Mackenzie to marry his wife should he die.”
“And?” The king said.
“Gregory Mackenzie kidnapped my niece and stole her away.” He fumbled a bit and withdrew the fake message.
“I have here in my possession a letter Mackenzie wrote himself saying he only married the lass to fulfill a vow. He is more than happy to have Your Majesty annul the marriage so she is free to marry Laird Gunn.”
Even though Megan believed in her heart that Gregory never wrote that missive, her stomach twisted at hearing those words spoken out loud.
Her head jerked up as the door to the room opened with such force it slammed against the wall.
Fighting off two guards, Gregory stormed into the room.
Her heart leapt in her chest and she felt weak at the knees.
He came to an abrupt stop, took one look at Megan and held out his arms. “Come here, Wife.”
With a sob, she wrenched her arm from The Gunn and flew across the room and slammed into Gregory, wrapping her arms and legs around him so tightly it was a miracle the man could breathe. She looked up at him, smiling into his deep blue eyes with love and relief. “Ye came. Thank God.”
“I told ye I would no’ let ye go.” He grinned as he looked down at her, cupping her face in his large, warm hand. “Do ye no’ trust me, Wife?”