CHAPTER 4 #3
Hurt welled in her chest. She held her fist to her mouth as she fought back the bitter tears.
Just like her husband, her brothers—the men who were supposed to love and protect her—did not deem her worthy of even the smallest sacrifice or consideration.
She rarely got angry, but she felt it simmer and spark beneath the painful disappointment.
After this, she would be a fool to expect them to give up any advantage for the sake of her happiness. She could have no doubt now that her brothers would ignore her objections and do their best to force her to make a marriage alliance for them.
She could not let that happen.
“I’ll tell my father,” Lizzie said. “He’ll make Archie do the right thing.”
Greysteel was close to Archie and George and undoubtedly knew of this already, but Margaret did not have the heart to tell Lizzie that. Better to let her keep her faith in her father a little longer.
“’Tis too late,” Margaret said, regaining control over her emotions. “Archie has already made his deal with William.”
Lizzie kicked the side of the bed. “’Tis not fair!”
Margaret could not even recall when she had expected life to be fair.
A few hours later, Margaret looked at herself in the looking glass and tugged at the bodice of her gown while the maids did the finishing touches to her hair. The silvery blue silk gown George had the seamstresses make specially for the feast tonight was magnificent, if a bit daring.
“I’ve never seen anyone look more beautiful,” one of the maids said.
“’Tis the gown, to be sure,” Margaret said with a smile.
For once, she was glad to be dressed in a dazzling gown that showed her best features to advantage. She needed all the confidence she could garner tonight.
“Thank you for helping me dress,” Margaret told the maids, and dismissed them.
She could not delay going down to the hall much longer. Lizzie had grown impatient and gone to wait for her downstairs some time ago. When she heard a knock on the door, she knew George had come to prod her.
“Aren’t ye ready yet?” he said as he opened the door, then he came to an abrupt halt and gave her a broad grin. “I knew that gown would be perfect. You’ll outshine every other lady at the feast.”
Margaret was in no mood to be flattered by her brother.
“How could you invite William here?” she asked. “How could you forgive him after what he did to me?”
“He’s necessary to our plans,” George said in a quiet voice, and shifted his gaze to the side. “But we should have warned you.”
“Aye, you should have,” she said. “How am I supposed to face him in front of the entire court and all the guests at this feast?”
As soon as she entered the hall, the room would be abuzz with her humiliation.
“I’m sure you’ll handle it with grace and calm,” George said. “You always do.”
With grace and calm? As she always did? Anger roiled under her skin. Her brothers were so certain that she would suffer this slap in the face, this last hurtful betrayal, quietly and without causing them the least inconvenience.
Tonight, she would teach them a lesson.
“Let’s go, then,” she said, and took George’s arm.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Lizzie was waiting just inside the stairwell and watching the people in the hall.
“One of your ribbons has come loose,” Margaret said as she reached for a bow in Lizzie’s hair. “George, you go ahead. I need just a moment to fix this.”
As soon as he left them, Margaret took both of Lizzie’s hands in hers. She felt uneasy involving her younger cousin, but Lizzie was her only ally at the palace.
“I need your help,” she whispered.
“Of course,” Lizzie said. “I’ll do anything.”
“I’m afraid it might be a bit dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” Lizzie’s eyes lit up. “What is it ye plan to do?”
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Finn returned to the abbey that evening at the appointed hour.
Hidden by darkness, he followed the wall that encircled the grounds until he reached the back gate behind the abbey’s kitchen gardens.
He found a monk’s habit hidden behind the bush next to the gate, tossed it over his clothes, and tied the rope belt.
Holding his breath, he leaned his shoulder against the gate, then smiled as it creaked open.
Until this moment, he had not been sure the monk’s courage would hold and he’d leave the gate unlocked.
After pulling the hood low over his face, Finn quickly crossed the garden and entered the abbey church through the side door the monk had shown him earlier.
Keeping to the shadows beyond the reach of the church’s burning candles, he moved on silent feet along the wall until he reached the opposite side of the church and the decorative arched doorway that was the king’s entrance from the palace.
He ducked through the arch and ran up the steps that the king would walk down to enter the church. The stairway was black save for a flickering candle at the top, where he found the monk waiting for him in front of a heavy oak door reinforced with iron.
“Thank you for your help,” Finn said in a hushed voice as he pulled the habit off and gave it to the monk. Beneath it, he wore his best tunic and breeches. When the monk made no move to unlock the door, he said, “Ye do have a key to it?”
“Nay,” the monk said. “The lock is on the palace side of the door, and it’s only opened when the royals come into the church to pray.”
Finn waited, hoping the monk did not bring him here for nothing.
“With the queen’s hurried departure and custody of our young king changing hands, however, all is in confusion,” the monk said. “No one seems to be responsible for locking the door.”
“Then luck is on my side,” Finn said.
“I doubt that verra much,” the monk said before he snuffed out his candle and slipped away into the darkness.