The Magnificent Rogue Page 10

  “Bad judgment,” Gavin murmured.

  “I had reached only my tenth year,” she said in her defense. “I was angry, and I knew they deserved it, but I couldn’t let them die. It would have been a sin, and I would have been like my mother.” She added defiantly, “But I’m not sorry I did it. I’d do it again.”

  Robert smiled. “I believe I’m beginning to realize why Sebastian found you so ‘unsettling.’ ”

  “It’s easy to condemn me now. You weren’t there.”

  “We’re not blaming you, Kate,” Gavin soothed gently. “Except for your lack of foresight.”

  “You’re hardly the one to talk,” Robert said. “I remember how squeamish you were at your first blooding.”

  “But I’m sure you weren’t squeamish at yours,” Kate challenged.

  “Death is never pleasant, nor is it to be taken lightly.” His lips tightened grimly. “But some people deserve to die. I’ve been wondering what punishment Sebastian invoked on a child of ten to push you to those lengths.”

  “I’m sure you wouldn’t consider the punishment deserving of such an action on my part.”

  “No? Why don’t you tell me and let me judge?”

  “I don’t like to be judged any more than you do,” she said.

  “And you don’t like to talk about your ‘uneventful’ life with Sebastian. What did you do to deserve punishment?”

  She tried to shrug carelessly. “He caught me looking in Master Brelam’s window one evening.”

  “Master Brelam?”

  “He was the baker. His cottage was on the outskirts of the village.”

  “And why were you peering into his window?”

  “Why do you think? Because I liked to do it.” She bit her lower lip before bursting out, “It was a long time ago. None of it matters now. Why are you asking me these questions?”

  “I have a curious nature.”

  Gavin said with a frown, “She’s right. It’s none of our concern, Robert.”

  “Perhaps not.” Robert smiled sardonically. “But I want to know. If she didn’t want to answer questions, she shouldn’t have told us about burning down the house. What was so fascinating about this baker’s cottage?”

  “Nothing.” She saw him lift his brows and said, “They were … they laughed a lot. It was pleasant to see them. He was a young man, and his wife was scarcely older than I am now. I’d go to the cottage at supper-time and watch them prepare their meal. They had a little boy who crawled around the kitchen, getting in their way.…” She shouldn’t have mentioned that night. Over the years she had tried to block out the desperate hunger that had driven the child she had been to that window. Yet now the memory came back to her as if it had been yesterday. The cheerfully blazing fire in the hearth, the young man with fine, straight hair and a broad smile, and his wife who looked at him with confidence, not fear. “I’d never seen … I didn’t know it could be like that. I didn’t do any harm. I just wanted to see them.”

  “And what did Sebastian do when he caught you?”

  “He dragged me into the house and made me apologize to them and admit my sin.” She swallowed. “I was so ashamed.”

  “What sin?”

  “Avarice. He said I lusted after what they had.”

  “And did you?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. She had wanted to drink in the love, the trust, and that wondrous lack of fear. She had wanted to fill herself with it, secrete it away to comfort her in Sebastian’s cold, barren house. “I couldn’t stop crying. They were very kind. They told Sebastian that it was natural for children to be curious. He wouldn’t listen to them. He knew me. He knew why I was there.” She drew a deep, shaky breath. “He took me back to his cottage and beat me until I couldn’t stand, and all the while he did it, he told me over and over that what I’d seen in that house would never be for me. I’d never have a home or people who would care for me. I wasn’t worthy. I must reject all thoughts of such a life and resign myself to the knowledge that my destiny would always be with him.”

  “Christ,” Gavin uttered.

  Robert said nothing, staring impassively at her.

  The impulse that had led her to confide in him had been a mistake. The memory of that hideous night was terribly hurtful, and she already felt too vulnerable and exposed when she was with him. She looked away from him and said, “We stayed at the inn until Sebastian received a sum from the lady to rebuild the cottage. It was while we were there I got to know Carolyn.”

  “And then he built in stone,” Robert said. “Did he suspect you did it deliberately?”

  “I told him I did it.”

  “Another mistake. I imagine your punishment was even more severe.”

  “That didn’t matter,” she whispered. “For the first time I didn’t feel helpless. I had done something.”

  “You certainly did,” Robert said dryly. His gaze went to the manor house in the distance. “Let’s hope Angus doesn’t raise your ire.”

  “You know it’s not the same,” she said. “I would never do anything like that to any but an enemy.”

  “Then we’re lucky Angus is a stranger. He’s very fond of his fine brick house.”

  “He has a right to be. It’s very handsome.”

  “Fat,” Gavin corrected with a grin as he spurred ahead. “But he’s a good man, so we forgive him, don’t we, Robert? I’ll see you at the stables. I want to see what new horseflesh Angus has plucked from the English.” He glanced slyly over his shoulder at Kate. “And I promise not to tell Angus the danger encroaching on his horizon.”

  Kate watched him gallop away, the rosy rays of the setting sun shimmering in his red hair as he bent over his horse’s neck, urging him to go faster.

  “But will you forgive our Angus his transgressions?” She turned to see Robert smiling crookedly at her. “How distressing. Another outlaw for you to weigh in the balance.”

  “You’re not being fair. I’ve never judged you. I just want to understand. I’m far from perfect, and I’ve been judged too often myself to judge others.” She frowned. “I think you wish to hurt me.”

  “Now why should I wish to do that?”

  “I don’t know.” She could never tell what was on his mind, she thought with exasperation. All she knew was that he was always watching her, and for the past three days she had been growing more and more tense. She would turn her head with a smile on her lips from something Gavin had said and find MacDarren’s gaze fixed on her face with that deep intensity that made her so uneasy.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” His gaze went again to the manor house in the distance. “Just don’t fight me.”

  The first time I have you, I’d prefer it be on clean sheets.

  His words came to her so quickly, she knew she had been deliberately keeping herself from remembering them.

  “Aye.” His gaze was back on her face, reading every nuance of her expression. “You knew it was coming. I couldn’t have made myself clearer. Angus has no use for women in his life, but he has two able-bodied male servants who keep his house tidy and clean, and he can give us what we need.”

  Clean sheets. She tried to block out the image of him naked and aroused, eyes shimmering down at her. She drew a shaky breath and with an effort made her tone acid tart. “Speak for yourself. I certainly don’t need it.”

  “You will.” He smiled. “I have no liking for reluctant women. I’ll take care that you need it as much as I do.”

  “Gavin says it’s important we do not have a child. Would you take such a risk for mere lust’s sake?”

  “Lust is never ‘mere,’ and there is a certain precaution I can take.”

  He had an answer for everything, and since she knew nothing of this blasted magical “precaution” she could not argue with him. She kicked her horse into a trot and rode on ahead.

  Gavin came riding back to them when they were within a few hundred yards of the stable. “Robert!” He waved a hand back at the stable yard that was teeming with me
n and horses. “Angus is about to set out to go reiving. He wants us to go with him. What do you think?”

  “I thought you’d had enough of blood and glory,” Robert said dryly.

  “There won’t be that much blood, and it will take only a few hours. They’re just going to raid the earl of Cavendish’s stable of a few choice mares Angus says will be much happier in Scotland. The English have no appreciation for fine horseflesh.” Gavin’s eyes twinkled. “Of course, if you don’t wish to go, I’m sure Angus will understand. I’ve explained you’ve just wed and now have a tendency to curl up by the fire like a tame pussycat.”

  “How kind of you.”

  Gavin waved his hand. “What’s a henchman for, if not to smooth the way for you? Do we go?”

  “I’ll consider it.” He glanced at Kate and gestured to a small, square-shouldered man in the center of the group of riders in the stable yard. “Come along and be introduced to my kinsman.”

  “You’re related to him also?” Her gaze went to the man he had indicated. Angus Gordon had shaggy, graying red hair and rough-hewn features, and he bore no resemblance to Robert. “I thought he was Gavin’s kinsman.”

  “And Gavin is my kinsman.” He shrugged. “It is all the same. We are all bound together.”

  A wistful pang rippled through her at his words. What must it be like to be bound together in that fashion, to ride into a place and know you belonged there? Well, she would know that feeling someday. She would have her own house, a place to come home to. But there was more here than just a house, she realized suddenly. These people belonged together by right of blood and oath. They were family. She had never thought further than owning a house, but would that house be a home without people who cared about it as much as she did?

  “Ah, Robert, lad. I hear you’ve been keeping busy,” Angus Gordon boomed as they approached. “Tell me, is marriage to a puling Englishwoman as much diversion as plucking gold from the Spanish?”

  “It has its moments of hazard.” Robert gestured to Kate. “My wife, Kate. Since she has a kind heart, she will excuse your lack of courtesy, Angus.”

  “I’m sure she’s already found you less gentle than those weaklings with whom she grew up.” He looked with cold appraisal at Kate. “Fine eyes, decent breasts, but her hips are too narrow for good breeding.”

  Kate felt as if she were a sheep at a town market, and in her present agitated state she was in no mood to be treated as livestock She always hated being made to feel her own helplessness, and she would not overlook this particular discourtesy. She rode her horse into the circle of horsemen until she was squarely in front of Angus. She ran her gaze with deliberate disparagement over his short, stocky frame, then said sweetly to Robert, “I can see why he wishes you to accompany him, my lord. A man so small and puny must need all the protection he can procure.”

  Gavin’s snort was quickly muffled.

  “Protection!” An expression of outrage appeared on Angus’s face. “I need no—” He stopped, then he threw back his head and laughed uproariously. “Good for you, lass.” He turned to Robert. “Are you sure she’s not a Scot?”

  “English,” Robert said. “And a tired English at that. Will you give us hospitality for the night?”

  “When have I ever turned you away?” Angus asked. “Even when Jamie was less than pleased with you. Have you had any more trouble with his man Malcolm?”

  “No, but then I haven’t been home in over a year. I’m sure Malcolm will furnish me with sufficient distraction once I’m at Craighdhu. And I have to warn you,” Robert added, “James is still exceedingly annoyed with me.”

  “I’ll still find room for you and this English.” Angus grinned. “But to soothe my conscience, I’ll have to take at least three more mares from Cavendish than I planned. I wouldn’t want anyone to think I’d turned into a Sassenach lover.” His expression turned grim. “The English have grown too confident when they think they can kill a Scottish monarch and get away with no retribution. You’ve heard about Mary?”

  Robert went still. “Mary?”

  “They beheaded her four days ago at Fotheringhay.” Angus shrugged. “You know I was never one of her supporters, but I don’t like the idea of those damn English killing any Scot.”

  Shock, followed immediately by a wave of sickness, washed over Kate. Mary, Queen of Scots, was dead. Her mother was dead. “You’re sure?” Kate whispered. “How … did she die?”

  Angus looked at her curiously. “Are you all right, lass? You look a bit pale.”

  “How did she die?” she repeated.

  “I told you, the block.”

  “No, that’s not … what I mean.” She lifted a hand to her trembling lips. “Did she die … well?”

  “Better than she lived,” Angus said. “Aye, I heard she died bold and brave like a true queen. The messenger said she wore a bright scarlet petticoat and a golden-haired wig, and was as comely as when she was a lass. The wig fell off when the executioner beheaded her.” His gaze narrowed on her face. “It seems to have come as a great shock to you. Did your people support Mary’s claim to the throne?”

  She didn’t answer. A bright scarlet petticoat …

  Robert said quickly, “Kate’s parents are dead, and I’m sure her guardian had no kind feelings for Mary Stuart.” He turned to Kate. “Isn’t that right, Kate?”

  She nodded numbly.

  “And it’s no wonder she appears stunned. Your rough tongue is enough to turn anyone’s stomach.”

  The suspicion in Angus’s face was replaced by ruefulness. “I thought she was stronger than most English. I didn’t mean to sicken you, lass.”

  “She’ll be fine once she has rested.” Robert turned to Gavin. “Take her to the house. I’m to have the same chamber, Angus?”

  Angus nodded, his gaze still on Kate.

  Gavin dismounted and threw the reins of his horse to a young boy. “We’re not going reiving tonight?” he asked Robert, disappointed, as he lifted Kate from the saddle. “It would make a fine tale once we get back to Craighdhu.”

  “We need an early start tomorrow.” Robert got off his horse and turned back to Angus. “Do you have time before you visit Cavendish to show me your new acquisitions?”

  Angus’s attention instantly left Kate, and a smile broke over his face as he slipped from the saddle. “I’ll make time. I want to show you what you’re missing by living on that barren island with no access to good horseflesh. Though you could always amuse yourself by snatching a few of Malcolm’s prime stock.” He laughed in amusement at the thought and clapped Robert on the shoulder. “Come along, and I’ll show you one of the prettiest mares you’ve ever seen.”

  • • •

  Kate watched from the window as Angus Gordon and his men rode out of the stable yard and then turned south and thundered toward the border.

  There’s a storm coming.

  She had not understood when Robert had said those words, but this was what he meant. He had known her mother was going to die. He had known when he had taken her from Sebastian that Queen Elizabeth was going to behead her mother.

  “Are you well?”

  She turned to see Robert standing in the doorway. “Of course.” She unclenched her hands and forced a smile. “I don’t know why I was upset. It was very foolish of me. I don’t even remember seeing her. She never came to visit me, never wrote me a letter. After she gave me up, it was as if I never existed.”

  “Hearing anyone has been beheaded is never a pleasant experience. It’s not surprising you’re upset.”

  “I’m not so squeamish. I always knew it might happen. Sebastian told me someday Elizabeth would grow tired of my mother’s sinfulness.”

  His lips thinned. “Why the devil did you ask Angus to describe her death?”

  “All my life I’ve heard what a sinful life she led. I had to know that it didn’t end that way, that she had some worth. Courage is a virtue too.” She folded her arms across her chest to keep them from trembling. “It�
��s growing chill, isn’t it?”

  “No, but I’ll build up the fire.” He knelt and threw on another log and stoked the flames. “I’ve told the servants they could go to their quarters. They’re more friends than servants to Angus, and I didn’t want them gossiping to him about how upset you are.”

  “I’m sorry to be so much trouble.”

  “No trouble. I’ve asked Gavin to see what he can find in the kitchen and bring your supper up here.”

  “Thank you. You’re very kind.”

  He rose to his feet and replaced the poker. “Good God, you must be upset to make that bad a mistake in judgment.”

  “You can be kind. You’re kind to Gavin. Sometimes you remind me of a fierce falcon, spreading your wings over him, keeping him from all harm. It must make him feel very safe.” A weary smile touched her lips. “But I forgot, he belongs to Craighdhu. That makes him the exception, doesn’t it?”

  “Aye.” He stood looking at her, frowning. “I don’t like this.”

  She didn’t know what he meant and was too numb to care. As she moved toward the hearth, her gaze fell on the bed, and his words on the hill came back to her. She said dully, “Clean sheets.”

  “By the Saints,” he exploded. “I’m not so desperate for a woman I’d take one who is capable of no more feeling than a puppet.”

  “No?” It did not seem to matter. She sat down in the high-backed chair by the hearth and stared into the dancing flames.

  “You’re to eat your supper when Gavin brings it. Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  “And then you’re to go to bed and forget all this.”

  Forget death and loneliness and the woman who died in her scarlet petticoat four days ago. “I shall be quite all right.”

  She was vaguely aware he was standing there staring at her. Then he muttered a curse and slammed the door.

  She leaned her head back against the chair. The flames shimmered scarlet in the gathering darkness, as bold and brilliant as a scarlet petticoat.…

  Robert looked down at the untouched food on the tray. “You should have made her eat.”

  “She wasn’t hungry. She said she was going to bed.” Gavin crossed the hall and vanished into the kitchen. He came out a moment later carrying a bottle of whiskey. “Look what I found. I’m sure Angus won’t mind. We can always tell him we only wanted to toast his success against the English. What was the real reason we didn’t go with him?”