Chapter 12

Chapter

Twelve

A thin sliver of

pale moon still hung in the sky as the gauzy pink of dawn began to

streak the horizon.

All night they had ridden without stop,

hardly daring to glance over their shoulders as they fled. On the

long night’s journey they had stayed far ahead of those who would

harm them, and had encountered no resistance.

Lindsey held herself stiffly in Jamie’s arms.

But as the horses moved along mile after endless mile of gentle,

rolling hillside, frosted by a silver, predawn mist, she gave in to

the overpowering need to sleep.

Jamie knew when sleep overtook her. Her face

lowered to his shoulder and her lips pressed against his throat.

Her hands grew slack and dropped listlessly to rest upon his

thighs.

To Jamie it was a most pleasant sensation,

and a smile touched the corner of his lips. She would be horrified

if she could see his reaction to her touch.

He longed to pause in their journey to let

her sleep without the jarring motion of their horse. He thought

about the suite of rooms he had secured for her at the inn. A tub

of warm water, a roaring fire and a feather bed awaited her. Alas,

the little firebrand was forced to endure another difficult

journey, a cold trail and a few moments of respite with her cheek

against his shoulder.

He felt the pressure of her breasts against

his chest and endured a tightening in his throat. To keep her warm,

he drew his cloak firmly around her and hunched his body over

hers.

They rode like that for several miles until

he felt her head come up sharply. She had suddenly been jolted

awake. He sat up straighter.

Embarrassed at her lapse, Lindsey again held

herself stiffly in his arms. If the queen, who was heavy with

child, could ride for hours without rest, she would allow herself

to do no less. But though she did not speak to him, she was

achingly aware of the man who held her in the circle of his arms.

The heat of his body still lingered in the folds of his cloak, and

she was grateful for its warmth.

The morning sun was just beginning to break

through the clouds when they halted by the banks of a wide loch.

Far across, in the middle, four islands converged. There, in the

center of the largest island, stood a dark imposing castle.

“Praise heaven. Lochleven at last,” the queen

breathed.

A man stepped from his concealment behind

some shrubbery that grew down to the water’s edge. Instantly Jamie

slid from his mount and drew his sword, placing himself between the

queen and the stranger.

“Hold, my lord,” the man shouted. “I am sent

by my lord William to see to your journey to his castle. I have

waited all night for your arrival.”

As Jamie continued to challenge him, the

stranger pointed to a boat hidden by foliage.

“It is a humble vessel, Majesty,” the man

said with lowered gaze, “but sturdy. ’Twill see you safely across

the loch.”

“Thank you.” The queen slid wearily from the

saddle. “What about our mounts?”

“I will tie them here and see to them later,”

the man explained.

Lindsey slid gratefully from the horse and

watched as the queen’s husband, who had journeyed with them all

night without uttering a single word, climbed from his mount and

took a seat in the boat.

Jamie assisted the queen into the boat, then

caught Lindsey’s hand and drew her down on a hard wooden seat

beside him. The boatman pushed them from shore with a long pole,

then bent to his oars.

The wind on the water was cold, and Lindsey

shivered despite the warmth of Jamie’s cloak.

She stared at the castle looming across the

icy water. How forbidding it seemed, with its dark stone and

scarred battlements.

“Your thoughts are gloomy, my lady,” Jamie

whispered. “But I do not think they are about Lochleven.”

“Mayhap I plot ways to thank you for this, my

lord.” Jamie swallowed back a smile. The lady had no idea how

beautiful she looked when fire blazed in her eyes.

“If you plot to swim the loch, know that the

waters are frigid, and the distance to shore is great.”

“It is a small price to pay to return to my

family. I fear for my father,” she murmured, praying the queen

would not overhear. “He will be heartsick when he awakens and

discovers that I am absent from the inn.”

“And what,” Jamie muttered, “will the rumors

be when it is discovered that I am also missing, along with Douglas

Gordon’s virginal daughter?”

Lindsey gave a little gasp and turned to meet

his dark gaze.

“Aye, my lady. Rumors will abound, especially

in a city like Edinburgh, where rumors and gossip are the very food

of its citizens.” His eyes narrowed. “It matters not what they say

about me. I have lived with such things my whole life. But I deeply

regret what this will do to your father when he sees such a cloud

upon his daughter’s reputation.”

Lindsey turned and stared at the rough waves

of the loch, her thoughts as dark as the water. She had to escape

this nightmare. And soon.

“Land ahead,” the boatman called out.

The queen turned to watch as the boat glided

silently toward the island. Lindsey studied the stiff spine of her

monarch and watched the proud lift of her head as they neared land.

Though Mary must be weary beyond belief, she could not forget for

even a moment that she was the queen, and must appear regal to all

her subjects.

As soon as the boat touched land Jamie leaped

to the shore and assisted the queen from the boat. The hooded man

climbed out and stared around as if in a daze. Jamie took Lindsey’s

hand and helped her onto dry land.

“I will ferry the horses one at a time,

Majesty,” the boatman said, “so that you might ride the grounds of

Lochleven if you desire.”

“That is most kind of you.” The queen drew

her cloak around her to ward off the chill from the water. “What is

your name?”

“Justin MacLeod, Majesty.”

“Thank you, Justin MacLeod. Your kindness

will not be forgotten.”

Moved by his queen’s gratitude, the man bowed

low until she and her party had turned away.

No one took any notice of the silvery shadow

that crawled from the loch and shook the water from its heavy coat

before disappearing into the mist.

* * *

The queen and her party strode through damp

marsh and tall grass until they reached a hilly mound. Walking

became easier as they made their way along a winding drive lined

with stately trees and formal gardens. In the distance, perched on

a ravine, were the crumbling remains of ancient monastic buildings.

A new chapel had been built along one side of the castle. Despite

the obvious attempts to beautify the ancient fortress, it retained

the wild, primitive look of a hunting lodge.

As they drew near, the massive doors were

thrown wide. Lindsey paused, expecting to see a staff of several

dozen spill through the open doorway to greet their royal guest.

Instead, a tiny, birdlike woman, wiping her hands on her apron,

bobbed her way down the stone steps. Behind her trailed a girl of

about ten and four, and a stooped little man in immaculately

tailored livery.

Queen Mary looked beyond them expectantly.

When no one else appeared, she turned to the woman, who

curtsied.

“Welcome to Lochleven, Majesty. My name is

Genevieve Macnab.” She made another curtsy, then went on in the

same breath, “This is my daughter, Sabina.” She caught the lass by

both shoulders and pushed her forward, causing the girl to stumble

as she made a clumsy bow. “She will be your personal maid, if she

pleases you.” Taking a deep breath, she caught the old man by the

hand and drew him to her side. “And this is my husband, Fergus. He

will be manservant, footman, stable master, coachman. Fergus can do

everything.”

The man made a sweeping bow. “Welcome to

Lochleven, Majesty.”

For a moment the queen was silent, and the

three shifted uncomfortably. Then a soft smile touched Mary’s

lips.

“Thank you, Master Macnab, Mistress Macnab.

Your daughter, Sabina, seems a fine, sturdy lass. I shall be most

grateful for her. assistance.”

The three beamed with pleasure.

Mary turned to include the others in her

party. “This is my husband, Lord Darnley.”

Lindsey was aware of the ice in the queen’s

tone and turned to study the hooded figure beside her. The man

barely glanced at the servants before striding up the steps.

Ignoring his impertinence, Mary said softly,

“This is my true and loyal friend, Jamie MacDonald.”

“My lord!” Fergus stepped forward and

extended his hand, his eyes wide with respect. “I have long heard

of your prowess in battle. Your name is legend. It is a rare

privilege to meet you at long last.”

“Thank you, Fergus.”

“And this,” the queen said, swallowing back a

sudden smile, “is the lady Lindsey Gordon.”

Lindsey saw the way the Macnab family studied

her, their gazes locked on her strange clothes.

It was Genevieve Macnab who composed herself

quickly enough to say, “Welcome, my lady.”

“Thank you, Mistress Macnab.”

“And now,” Mary said, lifting her skirts as

she began to ascend the steps, “I want nothing more than a

comfortable bed.”

“I have prepared a meal, Majesty.”

The queen’s pale skin seemed almost

translucent in the morning sunlight. Blue veins could be seen just

below the surface. She suddenly seemed as frail as a wee bairn.

“Not just now. I could not manage to eat a

thing, Mistress Macnab. If you will but show me to my

quarters.”

“Aye, Majesty.” With a worried frown, the

housekeeper and her daughter led the way up a wide, curving

staircase.

“We prepared a suite of rooms for you and

your husband, Majesty.” Mistress Macnab threw open double doors

leading to an elegantly appointed sitting chamber. Beyond that was

a large room with several desks and chairs, and beyond that a

second sitting chamber, with doors on either end leading to

matching sleeping chambers.

Everything, Lindsey noted, was scrubbed and

polished to a high shine.

The queen examined both sleeping chambers and

announced, “I will sleep here.” To the Housekeeper she added, “Lord

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