How to Handle a Highlander (Hot Highlanders) (24 page)

“It would have served me purposes as ye describe them to leave Moira wed to an impotent old man while I bred Sandra and then killed ye. There is the difficulty with yer lies, they do nae make any sense.”

“Achaius was nae impotent,” Bari insisted.

“He was,” Gahan declared. “He never consummated his union. If I were the arrogant, greedy man ye are painting me, I’d nae admit yer sister was a maiden when she came to me bed. I’d be looking to collect her widow’s portion from the Mathesons, but I am here to speak the truth. Unlike ye.”

“Ye…ye bastard!” Bari raged. “How dare ye touch me sister!”

“How dare ye bind her to an old man?” Gahan countered.

“Adultery is a grave sin.” The king’s voice was edged in authority. Moira felt her belly tighten as the air froze in her lungs. She and Gahan had broken a commandment. The circumstance did not matter.

“Yes it is, Yer Majesty,” Gahan agreed. “But an unconsummated marriage is nae a holy union. The sin I am guilty of is needing to wed the lass. Something I am eager to do.”

“Did Laird Matheson bed you?” the king asked her directly. The bluntness of the question made her cheeks burn.

Moira shook her head.

“I saw the soiled sheet,” Bari protested.

“An old man’s attempt to protect his pride,” Gahan said. “I’d prefer nae to speak of it. He is gone now, and there is naught to be gained by trampling his name.”

Sandra spoke up. “Perhaps Moira soiled the sheet to hide the fact that she is yer lover.”

Gahan surprised them by laughing. “Then why would I have taken ye to Saer MacLeod? Would it nae have made more sense to smother ye while no one knew ye were still among the living? I’d keep Moira and her widow’s thirds, for there would be no one to force me to tell the truth. Me actions do nae match the evil portrait ye are painting, Sandra Fraser.”

“No, they do not,” the king agreed. “You shall all stay until I can summon the Earl of Sutherland to account for these accusations.”

“He’ll tell ye more lies,” Bari insisted.

The king was growing impatient. “He is a noble of this realm and will not suffer being called a liar without proof. You are his vassal, Laird Fraser, and will mind your tongue, or I will have you shut away until I am ready to judge this matter.”

“I believe me father is already on his way,” Gahan said. “I sent a hawk yesterday, and me father is a loyal subject.”

“Good. You will all remain here at Court. Lady Matheson will be kept in my custody.”

“Yer Majesty—” Gahan protested.

“Save your breath,” he interrupted. “I am no longer the boy you fought beside at Sauchieburn. I see in your eyes the desire you have for her. As she is a new widow, it will breed discontent to have the pair of you seen together. Laird Matheson’s sons are both here and looking for any reason to discredit me. You are also both guilty of fornication at the least and adultery at worst. Lady Matheson will be taken into my personal apartments until this matter is decided.”

***

It was the horror she’d feared. Gahan was furious, rage flickering in his eyes. As much as she detested being parted from him, she wanted even less to see him destroy himself for her sake.

He drew in a stiff breath, fighting the urge to argue. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking immovable and imposing, the muscles in his jaw and neck cording due to his restraint, but he nodded.

The king gestured to the retainers behind him. They came around the raised platform and flanked her. For all the sense her actions made to her mind, her heart rebelled. It felt like she was being torn away from Gahan. She reached for him, unable to stop herself. Gahan caught her up in an embrace that threatened to crack her ribs.

She held him tight for a moment before forcing herself to push him away. It should have shamed her to have the king witness such a display of affection.

But she didn’t care.

Everyone dear to her watched her leave in the company of the king’s men. She felt Gahan watching her until she passed through a side entrance of the king’s receiving room. The passageway was meant for the king. The walls were plastered and painted. Even the ceiling was decorated with paintings of clouds and cherubs. But none of it pleased her. No, as she was escorted away by the king’s men, she very much feared she’d experienced the last perfect moments of her life.

Once again, Bari was making sure she served his interests no matter the cost.

***

Lord Home waited until the room was clear before appearing before the king.

“Very interesting.”

James looked at his mentor and head counselor. In many ways, he was more of a father than his own sire had ever been. “Do you think the Earl of Sutherland will appear?”

Lord Home thought for a moment before giving a single nod of his head. “The Sutherlands have been strong because of their close family ties. The earl seems to command such from his vassal lairds as well.”

“With the exception of Laird Fraser.”

“Aye, Yer Majesty,” Lord Home said. “Yet his sister is a conniving one. I’ve heard that from others. There are rumors she forged a letter in my name and has a seal.”

“That is a grave charge.”

“It is indeed,” Lord Home agreed. “I thought her dead, so I did not pursue the matter.”

“And now?” the king inquired.

“Now?” Lord Home smiled unpleasantly. “Now we shall give her enough rope to hang herself with or expose the others in this mess. They will all testify against one another. Only actions will prove who is telling the truth.”

“What is your plan?”

“It’s simple, really. Since you had the good sense to secure Lady Matheson, I believe she is the key.”

“Gahan Sutherland claims to love her.”

“An interesting claim, but his brother wed for affection as well. It might be a condition of the Highlands.” Lord Home pondered. “It will prove the key to solving this puzzle.”

“How so?” James questioned.

“We shall see who attempts to bribe their way to Lady Matheson, and then we shall know who is not as loyal to your will as they just so passionately claimed. That will be the guilty man.”

The king’s eyes widened. “Indeed, it will prove the matter.”

***

“This is hell,” Saer MacLeod declared when Gahan returned to the main hall. The new MacLeod laird looked completely ill at ease among the pomp and ceremony of the Court.

“Ye will nae find a den of worse cutthroats this side of the English border,” Kael Grant confirmed as he joined them. He offered Gahan his hand and clasped his wrist in greeting.

“The king took Moira into his private apartments.”

No one missed the deadly timbre in Gahan’s tone. They all wore dark frowns as the courtiers nearby looked on.

“What in the name of Christ?” Kael Grant suddenly exclaimed. He turned and strode toward a raven-haired woman. He spun her around, earning a cutting look from her before she recognized him.

“Ye are supposed to be with Cousin Ruth, Nareen.”

Nareen Grant had emerald green eyes that sparkled with rage. She lowered herself prettily then rose back up and turned her back on her brother. Her skirts swished as she made a rapid path toward the doorway.

Kael gave chase, and Gahan followed. Kael reached for her arm again, but she turned and sent him a cutting glance while pointing toward the gardens. They both followed her, and she did not stop until she was well away from the palace.

“Now, explain why ye are here,” Kael demanded.

“Because dear, sweet Cousin Ruth is a conniving bitch,” Nareen informed her sibling with a smile on her face in case anyone was watching from across the green. “Ye never checked up on me after banishing me to the lowlands, sweet Brother. I had to see to myself.”

“I would have known if she sent ye to Court,” Kael insisted.

“She didn’t. At least here, I have some protection,” Nareen whispered. “Ruth is a madam. She has several young charges and will let them be used for the right amount of gold. Laird Ross stopped in one night, and I begged him to let me serve his daughter as a personal attendant. It was the only way to escape before Ruth sold me.”

Kael Grant was enraged, his face turning red. “I will choke the life out of that bitch. She was to instruct ye on the running of a large estate.”

Nareen laughed. “I do nae regret it, nae even now, Brother. Ye men are too arrogant by far. Ye look on women as naught but things to be used for yer amusement. It does nae matter a bit. I am clever enough to see to meself.”

“Ye should nae have had to,” Kael declared in a hollow tone. “I never thought me own kin would prove to be untrustworthy.”

“Trusting others, even kin, always makes ye vulnerable.”

For a moment, Nareen’s green eyes glistened with unshed tears. The fear and horror she’d faced was there, but she masked it quickly when she realized Saer and Gahan had also followed them. She looked at Gahan and smiled, the curving of her lips transforming her face into a radiant vision of beauty.

“I hear ye declared yer love for Moira Fraser before the king.”

Surprise registered on all their faces, earning a soft, delicate laugh from her. “Naught is secret for long here at Court. The king has had her taken to the pink room. If ye have coin for bribing, I can sneak ye in there tonight.”

Gahan stiffened. “Do nae toy with me, lass.”

Nareen offered him a confident look. “Ye may have almost anything ye wish here for the right price. Attending Court is costly, and there are many who would let ye see the woman ye love for a few pieces of gold. They care only that ye leave her where the king has put her. No one will help ye free her.”

“The truth will.” Gahan didn’t care for the way Nareen received his comment. There was a look of sympathy in her emerald eyes, one that looked very much like experience.

He opened his purse and pressed several gold pieces into her hand. “Ye have me gratitude.”

Kael caught his shoulder. “Are ye sure that is wise?”

“The king did nae say I could nae see her.”

And wise or not, the separation was eating a hole in him.

***

The room she was shown to was a grand one.

Moira stood still for a long time, staring at her surroundings. The wood floor was polished and smooth, the varnish gleaming. The hearth had a pile of thick logs next to it, and a brass screen to keep sparks from jumping out onto the wooden floor. Several large windows let in the afternoon sunlight. She counted twenty-four panes of glass in each window, held together with iron to form each window frame. She reached out to trace one of the iron pieces, smiling at how smooth it was. Instead of shutters, there were thick draperies to cover the windows at night. There was enough fabric for several dresses. The expense defied her sense of logic. To spend so much coin on something that was only pretty offended her sense of duty to her clan. A castle was built for the protection of everyone.

Only a palace had such things.

There was a table near the hearth covered by a thick, colorful tapestry. Silver candleholders stood ready for sunset, set with beeswax candles. Two large chairs with seat cushions waited, but she turned to look at the bed next. Its canopy was huge. Long lengths of scarlet velvet ran down each of the four poles at its corners. At night they would be closed to keep the bed warm. The velvet was finer than any dress she had ever worn. She touched it gently, marveling at its silky softness. Like a baby’s cheek.

Yet she discovered herself disenchanted with it all. They were naught but things, and they offered her no comfort. She craved the man who had so boldly declared he loved her. She would cherish that moment forever.

Moira turned in a circle but still felt misplaced. Tears irritated her eyes and she blinked them away, because she was no child and would not weep. Besides, weeping meant abandoning hope. She wouldn’t do that, not until there was no longer even the possibility that she might see Gahan again.

The king had not appeared unjust. Yet she still rebelled against his having so much power. She reminded herself that God had put him on the throne. At least the Church would tell her that. Everyone was in their position due to divine intervention.

Was that why she’d woken up a maiden after her wedding?

At least it was cause for hope, a small notion that allowed her to believe heaven wanted her to be happy.

Her kin certainly didn’t.

***

Saer MacLeod stepped into Gahan’s path when Kael moved off with his sister.

“Are ye sure ye can trust that lass?” he asked solemnly. “She has anger trapped inside her.”

“Aye, but she was always a trustworthy woman.”

“She feels betrayed,” Saer observed. “That can change a person.”

“I have no choice,” Gahan replied. “I’ll nae let Moira spend the night without me protection. Bari and his sister are accomplished assassins.”

“They are black-hearted,” Saer agreed. But he was more concerned with Nareen Grant. She was a handsome woman. Her emerald eyes were captivating, and she moved like she enjoyed her body.

That idea made his blood stir.

As laird, he would have to wed, and there had already been a few offers sent his way. But his time on the isles had given him a taste for females who enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh without pretense. Just thinking about a proper bride left him cold.

Nareen Grant was not proper.

She was inventive and a survivor. Kael was furious and rightly so, for a brother was expected to protect his female siblings. Yet Saer discovered himself pleased to see that Nareen had withstood the test.

Aye, he was a survivor, but so was she. Maybe there was a woman in the Highlands he could want enough to wed.

***

Someone knocked on the door. Moira had time only to turn around before the royal retainers standing outside pushed the doors inward.

Two large men carried a silver tub between them. The back of it was higher than the foot, making it look like a slipper. A line of boys followed, each of them wearing a yoke with buckets of water attached to each end. Two older maids lowered themselves before directing the men on how to set up the tub.

“The king has told us to make ye welcome, Lady Matheson, and to see to yer comfort,” one of the maids said.