Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
The sun was barely
up when Jamie signaled that they should break camp for another day.
This morning he seemed even more abrupt than usual. He carefully
avoided Lindsey and he spoke only when necessary as he went about
his chores. When he saw Ian helping Lindsey into her saddle, he
turned away so quickly he nearly jostled Douglas Gordon, who was
standing beside him.
The older man watched as Jamie pulled himself
into the saddle and set out at a fast clip. He did not know what
had transpired between Jamie MacDonald and his daughter last night,
but he had seen the fire in her eyes as she had exited the circle
of firelight.
Douglas smiled to himself. He had often
sampled his daughter’s temper through the years. She could lay a
man flat with but a few well-chosen words. Still, he wondered if
even Lindsey could get the better of Jamie MacDonald. The man had
fire enough for a dozen men. And his temper had been building for
many miles.
As he mounted, Douglas swallowed a chuckle.
He would have enjoyed seeing his daughter spar with the Heartless
MacDonald. Aye. He would have enjoyed it immensely. The two were
evenly matched. Still, there seemed something more than anger
between them. He had seen it several times in the way the lad
watched her when she talked and laughed with her brothers; in the
way she studied Jamie when she thought no one was looking.
Lindsey’s gaze followed Jamie’s mount as it disappeared into the
forest mist, her eyes narrowed in thought. There was a softness
around her mouth. Aye. There was indeed something more than anger
between them.
With a few sharp words, the old man sent
their company racing to catch up with the fast pace set by their
leader. In a weary gesture he pressed a hand to his back. He would
be grateful when they reached their goal. The years were beginning
to take their toll.
* * *
It was nearly dusk when their weary party
rode through the spotless streets of Edinburgh. Lindsey and her
brothers swiveled their heads, craning their necks to drink in all
the strange new sights and sounds. So many people and animals
crowded together on the streets. So many lovely buildings, towering
one above the other.
Vendors in wagons and carts clattered along
the wide, clean streets, on their way home from Lawnmarket. In
Market Cross the crowds were thinner, as men and women hurried home
to prepare their supper. The crowds were dressed somberly,
befitting the mood of the city since the advent of the austere
churchman, John Knox. Some said he held more power with the people
than the queen. It was no secret that Knox despised the woman who
wore the crown, branding her a harlot.
Their silent party rode past the grand houses
and gardens of Canongate. Towering above the rooftops of the great
stone houses were the towers and battlements of Holyroodhouse, the
stone fortress that was home to the queen.
Lindsey glanced at her youngest brother,
Neal. He fairly twitched with anticipation. As did Robbie, whose
face was wreathed with smiles. Murray looked stunned by the assault
of sound and color, Donald bemused by the sight of dozens of young
women in every manner of dress. Lindsey shared the emotions of all
her brothers. This world was so new and wonderful. And soon they
would be in the presence of the queen.
Jamie drew to a halt before a comfortable inn
and handed his reins to a waiting groom.
“It is too late this night to present
ourselves at Holyrood,” he said wearily. “I will secure rooms for
us here until the morrow.”
Lindsey felt a wave of regret. She had waited
so long. Another night would seem like an eternity.
Following the innkeeper, she watched as her
father and brothers were given a large suite of rooms on the second
floor. Across the hall a cluster of rooms was assigned to the men
who accompanied them. Lindsey’s feeling of regret deepened. Being
the only woman in their party, she would most probably be assigned
to an upper floor, sequestered from the others for her own
protection.
From his position beside her, Jamie swallowed
his smile. Lindsey’s every mood was easy to read. The lass’s
emotions were evident on her face. It was clear that she was
expecting nothing more than a cheerless room with a hard bed and a
pitcher of cold water.
Wearily Lindsey followed Jamie and the
innkeeper down a long hall and halted in front of another suite of
rooms. Once inside, her regret turned to pleasure. In the sleeping
chamber, the large feather bed was ringed by sheer curtains.
Through the balcony windows drifted the muted sounds of the city.
In the adjoining sitting chamber, an inviting chaise was drawn up
before a roaring fire, and set up before the fireplace was a tub of
steaming water. Beside the tub was a young maidservant waiting to
assist her guest.
“Is this acceptable, my lord?” the innkeeper
asked Jamie.
Jamie turned to Lindsey. “Does it meet with
your approval, my lady?”
“Oh. Aye.” Her smile grew as she realized
that Jamie had thoughtfully made these arrangements.
How could he know what it meant to her to
look her best for her first meeting with Queen Mary? Because of
Jamie’s kindness, she would have a chance to wash away the grime of
their long journey. And in the morning, rested and renewed, she
would finally be presented to the queen, wearing her finest
gown.
“When you have had a chance to refresh
yourself,” the innkeeper said, “there will be a meal awaiting you
below stairs, my lady.”
“Thank you.” Lindsey’s gaze moved beyond the
innkeeper to where Jamie stood watching her. “Thank you very much.
You are most kind.”
With a nod, Jamie turned and left, followed
by the innkeeper.
With a sigh of pleasure Lindsey gave herself
over to the servant, who assisted her in removing her clothes. She
sank into the perfumed water and luxuriated in the maid’s
ministrations.
An hour later, her hair freshly washed and
arranged, and wearing a neatly pressed gown from her trunk, she
entered a small dining alcove below stairs where her father and the
others awaited her.
A fire crackled in the fireplace. The men,
goblets in hand, seemed relaxed and cheerful to have their long
journey at an end.
Jamie, who stood beside the fireplace, was
deep in conversation with Douglas Gordon. The two glanced up as
Lindsey entered. Douglas excused himself and crossed the room to
take his daughter’s hand. Jamie remained at the fireplace, one hand
resting atop the mantel, the other holding a goblet. At the sight
that greeted him, his hand tightened around the stem.
Lindsey’s gown was emerald satin, with a
jeweled bodice that molded her firm young breasts, then fell in
soft folds to the tips of her kid slippers. A necklace of emeralds
and diamonds adorned her throat, the gleaming stones catching and
reflecting the light of the candles. At her lobes were matching
earrings. Her waist-length hair was held away from her face with
jeweled combs.
This was a far cry from the lass who fought
like a man and who rolled herself into a rough cloak to sleep along
the forest trails. This woman, Jamie knew, would put the wealthy,
titled women at court to shame. And the peacocks who surrounded the
queen would all fight for her attention.
He watched as Ian MacPherson pushed past her
brothers to catch Lindsey’s hand.
“My lady. You light this room with your
radiance.”
Lindsey smiled sweetly at his compliment. But
as he bowed over her hand, she gazed beyond him to where Jamie
stood alone. For one long moment their gazes met and held. He
inclined his head slightly. She felt her cheeks redden.
As she crossed the room on her father’s arm,
Jamie signaled to a serving wench, who brought him another goblet.
When Lindsey approached, he offered it.
“Ale, my lady?”
She flushed as their fingers brushed. Lifting
the goblet to her lips, she drank and felt the warmth slowly heat
her blood. Or was it the nearness of this man? She could no longer
be certain.
She had never seen him look so handsome. In
deference to the sophistication of the city, he had put away the
rough garb of the Highlander. His shirt and tunic were tailored to
fit his wide shoulders and narrow waist. Fine breeches molded his
hips and thighs, and his boots were of the softest leather. His
thick, shaggy hair had been shorn and he was clean shaven,
revealing fine, even teeth and a proud, rugged countenance that
held her gaze even when she wanted to turn away.
“Let us sup,” Murray grumbled. “For too long
I have been forced to eat venison and dried biscuits.” He placed a
hand on his stomach. “Tonight I desire my fill of ale and mutton,
and every manner of sweets.”
“Then you shall have it.” Jamie turned,
deferring to Douglas Gordon. “Will you lead the way, sir?”
The older man offered his arm to his daughter
and the others followed them to a table covered with fine linen and
china and aglow with candles.
Douglas sat at the head, with Lindsey at his
right. Ian MacPherson snared the seat beside Lindsey. Her brothers
and men of their clan scattered themselves around the table. Jamie
took the chair across from Lindsey, on Douglas Gordon’s left. As he
sat, he saw Ian lean close to whisper in Lindsey’s ear and berated
himself for the twinge of anger that caught him by surprise.
Jealousy? Aye. This time he could not deny the feeling. He would
not allow himself to dwell upon it. If the lady favored Ian
MacPherson, there was nothing to be done about it.
Jamie nodded to the innkeeper, who ordered
the servants to begin. Several serving wenches scurried into the
room, carrying steaming trays of food.
In no time the table and sideboard groaned
under the weight of trays of partridge, pheasant, mutton and whole
fish.
As they filled their plates Neal asked Jamie,
“Have you been to Edinburgh often, my lord?”
“Often enough to know that I much prefer life
in the Highlands.”
Donald’s head came up. “Father said you are