Chapter 21 #2
She pushed her plate aside. “I am not hungry.
I would leave now.”
The queen glanced from Lindsey’s proudly
tilted head to Jamie, whose expressionless features could have been
carved from stone.
Standing, Mary waited for her husband to
offer his arm. As the queen led the way from the room, Lindsey
placed her hand on her father’s arm. The others followed.
They left the castle and walked to the
water’s edge. Justin MacLeod stood beside the boat that would take
them across the loch. He bowed to the queen, who smiled before
turning to Douglas Gordon.
“God speed, old friend,” she said as he
kissed her hand.
Douglas pressed her small hand between both
of his. “Rest assured that I will succeed at the task you have
assigned me, Majesty.”
She turned to Murray, Donald, Robbie and
Neal. “You have been blessed with the finest of fathers. I could
wish no more for my own child.”
Each of them kissed her hand, filled with
pride at the praise heaped upon their father by their queen.
Lindsey curtsied, then stood before the queen
and lifted her chin. She had thought to plead with Mary to allow
her to stay. But she had dismissed such a thing as childish. She
would not beg. Nor would she show any emotion at leaving Jamie
MacDonald. If it killed her she would not let him see what this
cost her. “It was an honor to be with you in your time of need,
Majesty.”
“God go with you, Lindsey. You take the
gratitude of your queen with you.” She leaned close and murmured,
“As well as someone’s heart.”
Lindsey’s eyes widened and she turned for a
moment to glance at Jamie, who stood a few steps behind the queen.
His eyes were hooded, his face devoid of all expression.
She could not speak. The lump in her throat
threatened to choke her. Turning away, she felt blinded by the mist
that blurred her vision. She was grateful to the boatman, who
caught her hand and helped her clamber aboard.
Ian MacPherson bowed low before the queen. “I
will not fail you in my mission, Majesty.”
Jamie took a step forward. “What mission is
this, Majesty?”
“Ian has friends who are pledged to my
safety. He will ride with the Gordon to the Highlands and enlist
their aid.”
Jamie felt a sudden chill at her words. “I
had thought Ian was brought here to bear arms in your cause,
Majesty.”
“Aye. So he was. But if he can summon others,
he is more valuable to me in the Highlands than languishing here.
Especially since I am in your very capable hands. Do you not
agree?”
With every part of his being, Jamie sensed
that Ian MacPherson was an evil that should not be unleashed. But
he knew that it was his word against Ian’s. Despite the fact that
he had hoped to keep Ian under his watchful eye until this thing
was over, he held his silence.
With a feeling of helpless rage, Jamie
watched as Ian climbed aboard the vessel and took a seat beside
Lindsey. Within minutes they were being ferried across the loch to
where their horses had already been assembled.
As the wind whipped the figures in the boat,
Jamie saw Ian’s arm close around Lindsey’s shoulder to keep her
cloak from blowing.
Mary and Lord Darnley turned away and began
to make their way to the castle. But Jamie could not leave. Even
when the distant figures were no more than dark spots on the
horizon, he continued to stand by the water, his hands clenched,
his heart heavy.
* * *
Jamie and the queen returned from a ride
through the maze. Mary’s cheeks were a becoming shade of pink in
the warm afternoon sun. As Jamie helped her from the saddle, Justin
MacLeod leaped from his boat and came hurrying toward them.
“Majesty, two men desire an audience with
you.”
A look of alarm flew into the queen’s eyes.
Jamie’s hand went to the sword at his side. Both turned to gaze at
the figures on the far bank of the loch.
“No one knows I am here. Who are these
men?”
“One of them said to tell you that he is your
cousin, Lord Desmond Frazer, Majesty.”
“Describe this man.”
“He is tall, Majesty. Almost as tall as Lord
Jamie MacDonald. And his hair and beard are very white. His
voice—thunders, Majesty.” Justin felt his face grow hot and hoped
he had not offended the queen.
Mary threw back her head and laughed. “Aye.
You have just described Desmond perfectly. Fetch him to me at
once.”
Justin bowed humbly, then returned to his
boat. On shore, Jamie and the queen watched as the boat was ferried
to the far side, where the two men were helped aboard. The boat
then made its slow progress to the island.
Desmond, followed by a stocky, shaggy-haired
stranger, hurried to kneel before the queen.
“Majesty,” he said kissing her outstretched
hand, “forgive our tardiness, but it could not be helped.”
“Tardiness? I do not understand, Desmond,”
Mary said with a puzzled frown. “I was not expecting you.”
“Nay. But you were expecting my soldier.”
The queen’s frown grew as she turned to study
the man who stood behind her cousin. He wore the garb of a
Highlander, with saffron shirt and rough tunic. On his feet were
brogues. His legs were bare. The man’s arms and legs were corded
with muscles. The scars of hundreds of skirmishes marked his face,
his neck, his arms and legs. He was not a man against whom a sword
would be lightly lifted. In his eyes gleamed the fire of a
warrior.
“You make no sense, Desmond. Pray tell me the
name of this soldier I was expecting.”
Desmond, too, looked puzzled. “I thought you
would be angry with me, Majesty, for making you wait so long for
the services of my most trusted soldier. May I present Ian
MacPherson.”