Authors: Julie Garwood
“Bridgid, when the king comes inside, don't lie to him. If he asks your name, tell him the truth.”
“But then Alford will know I'm not your sister.”
“You cannot lie to the king of England.”
Bridgid stopped arguing and agreed to do as Gillian asked. “It's bad timing that John decided to visit his friend now. Why do you suppose your king is here?”
“I know why,” Gillian answered. “I sent for him.”
T
he day of reckoning had finally arrived. John, king of the realm, didn't walk into the hall; he strutted. At least twenty soldiers, all in shiny new garb, marched in behind him in pairs, then fanned out, forming a circular cocoon from one side of the entrance to the other. The walls were quickly lined with heavily armed soldiers who had but one intentâto make certain their king remained safe.
Gillian and Bridgid made a formal curtsy to one knee, bowed their heads, and waited for the king to grant them permission to stand.
Bridgid peeked. Curious to get a good look at the man she had been taught was the devil incarnate, she was a little surprised he didn't have horns growing out of his head. John was quite ordinary looking, actually, with dark, wavy hair in need of a trim and a thick, wiry, brown beard speckled with gray. His size was ordinary too, and she guessed that the top of his head wouldn't even reach the shoulders of Ramsey or Brodick or Iain.
The three barons genuflected to their king, and after John had granted them permission to rise, Alford crooned, “What a wonderful surprise, my lord.”
“Yes, indeed,” John replied. “What mischief have you gotten yourself into now, Alford,” he drawled, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“No mischief,” Alford assured him. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, my lord?”
“I haven't come to see you,” John said, impatient as he turned his back on Alford and strode purposefully across the hall.
Gillian and Bridgid were suddenly staring at a pair of shiny boots.
“Stand,” John commanded.
The ladies did as he ordered. Bridgid looked the king right in his eyes, but then she noticed that Gillian's head was bowed and so she hastened to imitate her.
“Which one of you fair ladies is Gillian?”
“I am Lady Gillian, my lord,” she answered.
Alford came running. “May I ask, my lord. What business do you have with my ward?”
“Your ward, Alford? Did I give her to you then?”
Gillian slowly raised her gaze, and the king was so startled by the intensity of her green eyes and her exquisite features he drew a sharp breath. He spoke his thought aloud. “She is magnificent. Why hasn't she been brought to my court?”
“I didn't think you would want the daughter of a murderer in your court,” Alford said. “As you know, I firmly believe that Gillian's father was involved in the plot to kill Arianna and steal the treasure, and I felt that you would have been constantly reminded of the tragedy every time you saw Gillian. That is why I didn't bring her to court, my lord. I didn't think you should have to bear such pain.”
John's eyes narrowed. “Yes, of course. You have been a very thoughtful friend, Alford.”
The baron inclined his head and then remarked, “Gillian has been living in the north of England with her Uncle Morgan . . . Baron Chapman. And she has only just returned to Dunhanshire. I'll send her upstairs so you won't have to look upon her any longer.”
“You'll do no such thing. Go and sit with Hugh and Edwin while I have a word in private with these two ladies.”
Alford didn't dare argue. He gave Gillian a threatening glance before hurrying to join his friends. Too agitated to sit, he stood with Hugh and Edwin and strained to overhear the king's conversation.
John ignored the barons as he once again addressed Gillian. “Where is it?” he demanded urgently, and before she could respond, he asked, “Do you have Arianna's treasure with you?”
“No, my lord, but I think I know where it's hidden.”
“You think?” he repeated in a near shout. “You aren't certain? If I have made this journey on a whim, I assure you I will be displeased.”
His face was turning red, and she hurried to explain before he completely lost his temper and went into one of his famous rages.
“I didn't have time to look for myself, but I'm certain it's here . . . at Dunhanshire. Just a short walk away,” she assured him.
Her explanation calmed him. “If the treasure is recovered, you do realize that it will prove without a doubt that your father was involved in the murder of Arianna?”
She knew she shouldn't argue with the king, but she couldn't stop herself from defending her father. “I was told . . . and I believe . . . that my father was an honorable man, and honorable men do not kill innocent women.”
“I, too, believed your father was a loyal subject and a good man,” John said, “ . . . until he betrayed me.”
“I cannot believe that he did betray you,” she whispered. “My mother had only just passed away, and my father was mourning her at home . . . here, my lord, at Dunhanshire.”
“I know he wasn't in court when Arianna died, but Alford is convinced that he was in league with another. Aye, the man who killed Arianna passed the treasure to your father. If the treasure is here, it proves Alford's theory is correct.”
“I don't know what to say to convince you that my father was innocent,” she said.
“Soon we may have proof that he was a blackheart. If you had kept silent about the treasure's whereabouts, I never would have known for certain that your father betrayed me. Why, then, did you send for me?”
“Alford imprisoned my Uncle Morgan and told me that he would kill him if I didn't go to the Highlands and find my sister. Alford believed she had the box, and I was ordered to bring her and the treasure back to him.”
John glanced at Bridgid but otherwise continued to ignore her as he defended his baron's actions. “Alford's zeal in helping me with my search for Arianna's treasure has not dimmed over the years, and I cannot fault him for going to such extremes. Besides, it appears the end might justify the means.” Smiling as though he were a father explaining his precocious son's behavior, he added, “But he has his faults, and one is greed. I'm sure he wanted you to bring the treasure to him so that he could give it to me and collect the reward. I would do the same thing, and so, apparently, would you.”
“My lord, I don't want a reward. Truly I don't.”
“Then what do you want?”
“My Uncle Morgan is one of your faithful barons, and I ask that you protect him.”
“That is all you want?”
“Yes, my lord.”
The king's disposition shifted as quick as a bolt of lightning, and he was suddenly charming and solicitous. Though she had heard about his radical changes of mood, she was still caught off guard.
“I have just spoken at length with Morgan,” he announced.
Gillian's voice shook when she asked, “He is well, my lord?”
“He's old and tired and making outrageous accusations, but he is well. You'll see him soon.”
Tears clouded her vision. “Thank you, my lord,” she whispered. “I know you are anxious to see if the treasure is here, but if I may, I would ask . . .”
“Yes, my dear?”
“If I'm wrong and the box isn't here, please don't take your displeasure out on my Uncle Morgan. He had nothing to do with this. I alone am responsible.”
“And I should therefore turn my wrath on you?”
“Yes, my lord.”
John sighed. “I have waited over fifteen years for the return of the treasure, and I find that anticipation increases my joy and my sadness. I don't want to hurry,” he explained. “For the possible disappointment will be very painful for me. As for Morgan,” he continued. “I assure you that even if the treasure isn't here, your uncle will still have my protection, and so shall you. Do you think me an ogre? I will not hold you responsible for your father's crimes.”
Though she knew that at this moment he was sincere,
she also knew how swiftly he could change his mind. She didn't dare put her faith in his promise.
“You are very kind, my lord,” she whispered.
“I can upon occasion be kind,” he arrogantly agreed. “Now answer a question for me.”
“Yes, my lord?”
“Are you married to the giant barbarian with the long golden hair named Laird Buchanan?”
Gillian swayed. “I am his wife, my lord,” she stammered. “He is here . . . you have seen him?”
“Aye, I've seen him,” he drawled. “And he is indeed here, with two other lairds and an army at their side. The Highlanders surround Dunhanshire.”
Bridgid's deep indrawn breath drew the king's attention. “I've been ignoring you far too long, my dear. Forgive me my poor manners and tell me, who are you?”
“She is my dearest friend,” Gillian said. “Her name is Bridgid KirkConnell.”
Bridgid smiled at the king, and within a heartbeat he was smiling back. “Ah, you are the lady the Laird Sinclair has come for.”
“I do belong to his clan, my lord,” she whispered, nervous to have the king's undivided attention. “And I am one of his many loyal followers, but he wouldn't come all this way just for me.”
The king laughed. “From the way he was ranting at me, I believe you're mistaken. I must admit the Highlanders are an impressive and intimidating lot, to be sure. When I saw them, I considered returning to London to get additional troops, and I was certainly urged to do just that by my guard,” he added. “But then the three lairds separated from their men and rode hard to intercept me. It seems they had only just found out that the two of you were inside, and
they were . . . highly agitated. I commanded them to stay outside the walls, and I will tell you that I was most unhappy when Laird Maitland dared to argue with me. When I told him that you had sent for me, and that I would not allow any harm to come to you, they grudgingly agreed to wait. Why did you come all this way, Bridgid?”
She looked at Gillian, hoping she would explain.
“Baron Alford believes Bridgid is my sister.”
“But she isn't,” the king said.
“No, my lord, she isn't.”
“We lied to Baron Alford,” Bridgid blurted. “But Gillian told me I mustn't lie to you, my lord.”
The king seemed amused by Bridgid's honesty. “And she was right,” he said before turning to Gillian again. “And what of your sister?”
Gillian bowed her head. “She is forever lost to us, my lord.”
John nodded, accepting what she said as fact. Alford interrupted the conversation then by offering the king refreshments.
“I'll dine with you when I return.”
“Return, my lord?” Alford asked.
“Yes,” John answered. “Lady Gillian is going to show me where she believes Arianna's treasure is hidden. We will not know for certain that it's here until we look for ourselves.”
Alford took a step toward his commander and motioned for him to come to him.
John smiled at Gillian. “Shall we go then?” he asked as he stepped back and graciously offered his arm to her.
Her hand trembled when she placed it on the king's arm. Noticing her distress, John put his hand on top of hers, gave it an affectionate pat, and commanded that she cease being afraid of him.
“You are a loyal subject, are you not?”
“Yes, my lord, I am.”
“Then, as I said before, you have nothing to fear from me. Do you know, Gillian, that you remind me of her?”
“Your Arianna, my lord?”
His face dropped, and he became melancholy. “Aye, she was my Arianna, and though your eyes are not the same color as hers, they are as beautiful. I loved her, you know, as I have never loved any other woman. She was . . . perfection. I often wonder what course my life would have taken had she lived. She brought out the good in me, and when I was with her, I wanted to be . . . different.” He sounded like a very young boy now in the throes of his first love.
The king suddenly pulled away from her and turned to Alford, for he'd only just noticed his friend was in deep discussion with one of his soldiers. John lashed out, berating the baron for his rudeness, reminding him that when he was in the room, it was the law of England that he, and only he, be the center of attention.
Having just been duly chastised, Alford bowed his head while he gave John his apology.
“What were you discussing with your soldier?” John demanded. “It must have been important for you to be so impertinent.”
“Horace is one of your most loyal soldiers, and I was telling him that I would ask you if you would allow him and three other worthy men the honor of escorting you and Gillian.”
With a negligible shrug, John granted permission. “We won't be gone long,” he said, and then he commanded his soldiers, “All of you stay here. No one leaves this hall until I return. Bridgid, my dear, will you please wait here?”