Chapter 10 #2
acquainted with the noble men and women at court.”
“Aye.”
A slow smile spread across Donald’s face.
“Could you, perhaps, point out one or two ladies who are not spoken
for?”
“Not spoken for?” Robbie scoffed. “Since when
has it mattered to you whether or not a female is betrothed, or
even wed?”
“Can I help it if women throw themselves at
my feet?” Donald shot back. “How many times have I tried to remind
them of their duties to their husbands? Alas, they seem to forget
even their solemn vows when in my presence.”
While the others groaned Ian MacPherson
leaned across the table and said in a low voice, “A man after my
own heart. Have no fear, lad. I will find you a willing wench.”
The exchange had not been lost on Douglas,
who glowered at his son.
Neal glanced at Jamie and spoke haltingly. “
’Tis not women I would care to meet, my lord. It is the queen’s
stable master.”
“And why is that?” Jamie asked.
The lad stared at the table linen, too shy to
explain.
“Neal has always loved tending the horses,”
Lindsey said.
“Ah. I noticed your skill during our journey
here. Yours is a natural gift with animals.”
At his unexpected compliment, Neal flushed
with pleasure.
“I know Lord Menzies very well,” Jamie
continued. “He takes great pride in his duties. It would be his
pleasure to show you around the stables, since you share his love
of horses. Perhaps he would even let you handle the queen’s
steed.”
“I could not,” Neal protested quickly. “But
it would be enough just to see Her Majesty’s horse.”
As Jamie continued to eat, he felt a growing
kinship with this gentle lad. Neal had handled himself well on the
journey, displaying skill with both sword and steed.
When they had finished the main courses, the
servants brought in trays of puddings, brandied tarts and heavy,
moist confections.
“I have died and gone to heaven,” Murray
said, polishing off a fourth sweet. “Tell me, Jamie, will the food
be even better in the queen’s own castle?”
“Some of Scotland’s finest cooks reside in
Holyroodhouse,” Jamie said with a smile. “If you crave sweets, you
will be more than satisfied.”
“I cannot wait.” Murray emptied his goblet.
“When I return to the Highlands I will be as plump as a
monarch.”
“Beware,” Donald cautioned, “lest some
Highland wench mistake you for a roasted pig and carve you up for
her feast.”
“That will be your fate, my lad, not mine.”
Murray and the others shared a laugh.
One serving wench circled the table, filling
goblets and tankards as quickly as they were emptied.
“More ale, my lady?” the servant asked.
“Nay. I have had sufficient.”
“More ale here,” Ian demanded
imperiously.
Lindsey watched as Ian held up his goblet.
Already his words were slurred and his eyes seemed unable to focus.
Beside him, her brother Murray followed suit. The two men murmured
together and laughed uproariously at each other’s jokes.
Lindsey swallowed her frown of disapproval.
It had indeed been a hard journey. They deserved to relax. Besides,
they would fall into their beds after dinner, and by morning would
wish they had not celebrated quite so fervently. Especially if the
queen took notice of their discomfort.
Lindsey noted that Jamie ate and drank very
little. Throughout most of the meal he kept his silence unless one
of her brothers questioned him directly. Most of the conversation
had been dominated by Ian, who regaled them with tales of journeys
to exotic places. From his boasts, it would seem that he had
traveled the length and breadth of Scotland. Throughout their
journey, he had managed to keep her brothers spellbound with his
tales. Lately, however, the lads seemed far less impressed by his
boastful words.
When Douglas pushed away from the table the
others followed.
“Will you stay and lift a tankard or two with
us, Father?” Murray called from across the room.
“Nay.” Douglas gave a wry smile. “I am more
than grateful for a chance to sleep in a bed this night. I intend
to be well rested before I meet with our queen.”
He noticed that the lads were far too excited
to go directly to their beds.
Douglas offered his arm to his daughter and
they followed Jamie from the room. They climbed the stairs and the
two men paused outside Lindsey’s door. She kissed her father’s
cheek and bid an awkward good-night to the man whose mere presence
made her pulse quicken. Jamie lifted her hand and brushed it with
his lips. A quick, intense jolt burned a trail of fire along her
arm and she prayed that her father and Jamie did not see her
trembling response.
“Rest well, Lindsey,” her father murmured.
“For tomorrow you shall have your fondest wish. An introduction to
the queen.”
“Aye, Father.” With a dreamy smile she
entered her room.
As she leaned against the closed door she
heard her father’s voice.
“You retire early, Jamie.”
Jamie’s voice was low, conspiratorial. “Nay.
I will change to less gentlemanly attire, and repair to a nearby
tavern where I might discern the mood of the people. Perhaps I will
hear something useful.”
Lindsey heard the note of regret in her
father’s tone. “Ah. If I were a younger lad I would be right there
beside you.”
As their footsteps faded, Lindsey felt a
sudden wave of jealousy. How unkind the fates that had made her a
woman. How wonderful it would be to experience the freedom men took
for granted. How grand to walk into a tavern and order a tankard of
ale. What bliss to listen to people who had seen the queen ride
through their streets like an ordinary citizen.
As she crossed the room a young servant rose
up from the chaise rubbing her sleepy eyes. Startled, Lindsey drew
back.
“I would help you undress, my lady,” the
tired maidservant said.
“Thank you.”
As the girl began to unbutton her gown, the
merest hint of a plan began to form in Lindsey’s mind. Never again
would she have this opportunity to visit Edinburgh. For the rest of
her life she would live a sheltered existence in the Highlands,
with only her memories of this happy time. Why should she not, just
this once, taste the freedom she so desired?
“Have you brothers?” Lindsey asked.
“Aye, my lady. Two.” The wench made a little
face. “Both younger than I. Mayhap you saw my brother Cedric. He is
the groom here at the inn. My little brother, Edmund, helps muck
the stalls.”
“Cedric.” Lindsey recalled the young lad who
had taken their horses. He was only slightly taller than she.
“Could you bring me a pair of his breeches and a shirt?”
“My lady?” The servant paused, her hand on
the buttons, and stared at Lindsey as if she had gone mad.
“I would pay you well.” Lindsey dug into her
pocket and produced a gold sovereign.
The coin was enough to feed the servant’s
family for a year. The lass considered for only a moment. “Aye, my
lady. When do you need these clothes?”
“Immediately.”
The girl blinked. “I will see to it.”
The maid hurried from the room and returned a
short time later with the items Lindsey had requested. In addition
to breeches and a shirt, she had a coarse tunic and a hat like
those worn by workers along the wharf.
Slipping into the clothes, Lindsey realized
the value of the tunic. Hanging loosely over her shirt, it managed
to hide most of her womanly curves. She struggled to pull her hair
into a knot. Even with the servant’s help, it was a difficult task
to conceal so much hair. But with the hood of the tunic pulled up
and the hat pulled low on her face, she was satisfied with the
results.
“Would you guess my gender?” she asked the
servant. “Nay, my lady. I would not have believed one as beautiful
as you could look like a common street lad.”
Hearing the door to Jamie’s room open,
Lindsey touched a finger to her lips.
Turning, she pressed the gold sovereign into
the servant’s hand. “You must not breathe a word of this.”
“Aye, my lady.” The girl’s fingers curled
around the treasure. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Lindsey listened until Jamie’s footsteps
faded. Then, opening her door a crack, she peered both ways before
starting out.
When she reached the lower floor she could
hear the sound of raucous laughter from the dining alcove. The
front door closed behind Jamie. Slipping quickly past the room
where the others still drank, she hurried out the front door and
slipped into the shadows. It was an easy matter to follow the tall
figure as he strode purposefully down the nearly deserted
street.
When Jamie paused at the door to a tavern
Lindsey crouched in the bushes, her heart pounding. A moment later
he stepped inside.
Lindsey approached the door of the tavern,
then paused with her hand on the door. She had never before been
inside such a place. She had no idea what to expect. Sudden fear
gripped her at the boldness of her deed. She had taken no time to
think this through.
What would happen to her if she were found
out? Could a woman go to Tolbooth Prison for such an impertinent
act? And even if she were not imprisoned, what would happen if
Jamie saw through her disguise? He would be furious. Worse, he
would drag her back to her father and brothers and force her to
admit her deceit. She would be humiliated.
An inner voice warned her to return to the
inn before her little charade was discovered.
As she stood there pondering her fate, a hand
came up behind her and shoved the door open.
“Come on, lad. Tarry not when there’s ale to
be had,” said a voice directly behind her.
As the door opened she was pressed into a
smoky room that reeked of ale and unwashed bodies. Clusters of men
sat at scarred wooden tables, talking and laughing among
themselves. More men gathered in a corner, where one in their party
was speaking in loud tones.
“. . . bastard. He told his manservant, who
told the groom, who passed it on to the scullery maid.”
There was a chorus of shocked
exclamations.
Lindsey’s eyes went wide as a man at a table
near hers pulled a tavern wench onto his lap and began fondling
her. Instead of slapping him, as Lindsey surely would have done,
the wench laughed and threw her arms around his neck.
“Here, now,” one of the men in the crowd
yelled. “If you want to do that, laddie, take her to her room.”
Amid a chorus of rough laughter, the girl
caught his hand and led him toward a door.
Lindsey’s mouth opened in astonishment. So
this was why men chose to drink in a place like this. It was not
merely the company of other men they sought. It was for the favors
of the tavern wenches, as well. She shook off a feeling of
revulsion.
“Ale, lad?” A buxom wench sidled up beside
Lindsey as she cringed in her seat in a shadowy corner of the
room.
“Aye.”
Lindsey’s gaze scanned the crowd until she
found Jamie. She studied his broad back as he stood to one side of
the room with a group of men. Within minutes they were talking and
laughing with him as if he was an old friend.
She gave in to the luxury of studying Jamie
MacDonald. Even in a room filled with men, he was a man set apart
from the others. It was true that he was taller than most, but that
alone did not distinguish him. Nor was it the fact that he was
clearly the most handsome man in the room. It was something
indefinable. Perhaps the way he carried himself. He seemed so
self-assured. Or perhaps it was the note of authority in his voice.
It was clear that he was a man accustomed to giving orders and
having them followed without question.
Lindsey tried to study the others in the
tavern. But her gaze was drawn once more to Jamie.
When the tavern wench returned with a
tankard, Lindsey paid her and watched as the woman made her way to
Jamie’s side. The wench whispered in his ear and he gave her an
easy smile before responding.
As he followed the tavern wench from the
room, Lindsey’s heart sank. Her hand tightened on the handle of the
tankard until she felt her nails bite into the flesh of her
palm.
How could she have been such a fool? She had
believed his lie, that he was coming here to get a sense of what
was happening in the queen’s castle. Damn the man. He had come here
to drink and bed a whore. And for that, he had not wanted to be
saddled with her brothers and the other men. He had thought to keep
them all ignorant of his true intentions.
Tears blurred her vision and she wiped them
savagely with the back of her hand. She would not cry over the
Heartless MacDonald. He was not worthy of her tears. A string of
oaths crept unbidden to her mind. She swallowed them back.
She glanced around, eager to be rid of this
place. Just behind her was a door. She hoped it would lead to fresh
air. Blindly she slammed down her tankard and stumbled from the
room.
Outside the door she found herself in a
darkened hallway leading to several rooms. At the far end was a
stairway leading to the upper floors of the tavern.
As she passed a closed door she heard a man’s
voice raised in anger. A woman’s shrill voice responded. She
hurried on.
But before she could slip past the next door,
Lindsey recognized Jamie’s voice and came to a sudden halt. Against
her better judgment Lindsey bent, pressing her ear to the door.
A woman’s voice, soft, muted, was saying,
“She cannot remain.”
Jamie’s words were muffled. “Tell her I am
arrived. She will no longer be alone in this.”
Lindsey heard the thread of near hysteria in
the woman’s tone. “Nay, my lord. It is too late. She bid me prepare
her for a journey this night. She will tarry no longer.”
“Take me to her.” Jamie’s voice rose.
“Now.”
Lindsey heard the scrape of a chair against
the floor and Jamie’s voice, stronger, as he added, “I will
persuade her of her folly.”
“Oh, my lord. If only you can.”
Thinking quickly, Lindsey ducked into a
darkened doorway as the door to the room was thrown open, spilling
light into the hall. Jamie strode past, accompanied by a woman
dressed in an elegant blue velvet traveling gown and ermine-lined
cloak.
As they passed, Lindsey slipped from the
shadows and followed at a discreet distance, driven by some inner
demon to follow. Though her heart lay heavy in her breast, she
could not tear herself away. She would see this mystery woman who
owned Jamie MacDonald’s heart.