“He had two blades,” Keenan said (15 page)

Keenan glanced at the statuesque Serena as they approached the makeshift throne where George sat expectantly. Elizabeth Darlington, the king’s latest mistress, sat in a high backed chair next to him. After his wife Catherine died years before, George swore that he would never marry another. He would only take mistresses from then on.

Serena dipped low into a formal curtsey displaying her cleavage before the monarch’s keen eye. Aye, Keenan thought dismally, he should be here, but he shouldn’t have brought Serena. It was too dangerous. It didn’t feel right. He bowed low.

“Your Majesty,” the page said formally to their right. “I present Keenan Maclean of Kylkern and his cousin Serena Mackay of York.”

“Rise, rise,” George said smiling like a cat about to indulge in fresh cream. He all but licked his puffed up royal lips. Keenan helped Serena rise and placed her hand on his arm. “Come forward, fair lady. I don’t believe we have met before.” Without looking at Keenan, “I’ve met your sword-throwing cousin, but didn’t know he had kin so fair.”

“Hello, Keenan,” Elizabeth said coyly from her seat. “We didn’t know you had relations in England.”

Keenan ignored the subtle invitation he read in Elizabeth’s voice. A chill of suspicion tore along Keenan’s muscles, the weight of his dirks ready to be unleashed. Something wasn’t as it seemed. Was Serena sensing anything apart from Elizabeth’s sexually explicit thoughts? Keenan had danced with Elizabeth at a party in London last year. It was before her entanglement with George and he had flirted with her, but nothing had come of it.

“Serena is a distant cousin on my mother’s side,” he said stiffly.

George rose and walked down the two steps. He took Serena’s other hand in his. “What a pleasure to have a new face at our little court.” He indicated the room. Serena had her gloves on, but Keenan knew she could still touch the king’s thoughts and emotions. Hell, Keenan could sense them.

Benjamin Frampton stepped out from a tall double door and nearly trotted to their side so as not to be left out of the introductions. He was a little man, full of overstuffed pride and self-glory. He blended well with the usual courtiers. Frampton’s sly eyes slid along Serena’s neckline. Keenan’s jaw began to ache.

Frampton turned to him. “So Keenan Maclean, what brings you onto English soil?”

Time to enact the plan. “I’ve come to bring news of foul play.”

“Eh?” Frampton said. George barely took his eyes off Serena to glance at Keenan.

“I regret to inform Yer Majesty that yer friend, Gerard Grant was murdered near Leeds a little over a fortnight ago.”

Silence. George tucked Serena’s hand into the crook of his arm. Had he touched her skin? Keenan wasn’t sure. Frampton was saying something again, probably important.

“What was that, Frampton?” Keenan said steering his mind back to the plan, the mission.

“I said, it’s a shame.” Frampton tsked loudly. “I heard a Romany man stabbed him for his money.”

“So ye’ve heard?”

“Yes, we had news several days ago,” King George said. “Terrible tragedy.”

Keenan caught sight of Thomas and Brodick near the door. When his gaze turned back to Serena, she looked flushed, almost dazed. Keenan watched as George’s hand ran up the side of her neck near her ear. Fury roiled up within Keenan, and he took a step toward them before reining himself in physically.
Think, think.
This was no battlefield where he could lay his enemy open with his blade. This was the court and the enemy was the King of England and nearly all of Britain.

“Miss Mackay and I also bring happy tidings of our own,” Keenan heard himself saying. George looked at him, one puffy eyebrow slightly raised in question. Good, his hand had lowered upon Keenan’s words. “Miss Mackay willna go by her maiden name much longer. We have wed in the Highland tradition by handfasting.”

Serena’s glassy eyes blinked several times as she stared back into his own.
Handfasting?

Keenan walked over and pulled her into his side as George casually disentangled himself from her. “Aye lass, that is what we call it,” he smiled and kissed her forehead before turning back to George and Frampton. “We will make it official with the kirk as soon as we return to Kylkern.”

Frampton laughed. “I thought you had sworn off the bonds of marriage Maclean. Something terribly romantic, about a dark curse or other.”

Keenan laughed back. “I suppose I was cursed until I found my dear cousin.”

Elizabeth sauntered over and placed her hand on George’s arm. “What happy news.”

Keenan felt Serena’s weight increase on his arm. He looked over and her pale face seemed to flicker shut a second before she slumped under the heavy weight of her gown.

“Good Lord, I think she’s fainting,” Elizabeth said.

Keenan picked up Serena as the twittering crowd drew closer. Frampton’s wife, Olivia rushed over issuing orders for a guest room to be readied. Keenan glimpsed Brodick and Thomas flanking them slightly behind. Through twists and turns and up stairs, Keenan only watched Serena’s face, her dark lashes against her milk white skin. She was perfectly chiseled from marble, so cold, so deathlike.

As they entered a room, Keenan laid Serena on a large bed surrounded by heavy curtains. Thomas moved quickly to the hearth to encourage a fire while Brodick shooed the servant out of the room.

“Lass,” Keenan whispered near Serena’s ear. “Lass, are ye in there?” Had she taken in too much venom surrounded by vipers? Had she peered into too much darkness and lost herself? “Brodick, get over here,” Keenan roared.

Brodick stepped up to the bed, his eyes worried.

“Think of the happiest time of yer life.”

“Like when I slaughtered that MacCallum from Inverness?”

“Aye, I mean nay,” Keenan said, his eyes still searching Serena’s face. “Something happy like that, but nothing bloody, only happy. Like when yer nephew was born and yer sister was happy and healthy.”

“Fine, aye, I’m thinking of it.”

“Now touch her skin.”

“Her skin?” he asked and ran his large hand over his beard.

“Aye, think the happy thought and touch her,” Keenan pulled off Serena’s glove so Brodick could take her hand. “And mind ye, if ye slip and start thinking evil or foul thoughts,” Keenan looked Brodick in the eye with deadly seriousness. “I think ye could kill her.”
And I will kill you.
He thought the words because they hummed through his body like his pulse. But he wouldn’t say them. He didn’t have to.

“Aye, happy thoughts.” Brodick swallowed hard, and then breathed slowly. A grin came across his face, and Keenan put Serena’s hand in his large paw.

Keenan bent back down to her ear. “Open up to Brodick’s happiness, Serena. Let it in.”

Serena’s eyes moved behind the delicate veil of her lids. Her lashes flickered against the creaminess of her skin as she opened her eyes. “That’s it lass,” Keenan said and motioned to Brodick to break contact.

“Did my thoughts wake her?” he asked curiously.

“Yes, they helped,” Serena said and tried to sit up.

Keenan pulled her into a sitting position and sat down. She leaned into him and looked up at Brodick. “What a beautiful little boy your sister has.”

Brodick smiled proudly. “He’s na’ so wee anymore. He’s going on ten now.”

“I will have to meet him when we return to Kylkern.”

“That ye will, I promise,” Brodick said, his smile genuine.

Keenan watched the intimate exchange and frowned. He had always considered it a strange advantage that Serena couldn’t read his thoughts and feelings. However, the same advantage also refused him a connection to her, a connection that every other man could form with her. Keenan’s hands balled into fists at his side.

“Brodick, see if we were followed,” Keenan indicated the door. “And send word that my wife is fine but needs to rest. I will return soon.”

“Yer wife?” Gavin asked, his bushy eyebrows raising over wide eyes.

“Dinna ye hear Keenan in the hall,” Brodick said walking to the door. “Clever too, to keep those royal English claws off her. Probably what knocked her out.” Brodick opened the heavy door and inclined his head to a guard a bit down the corridor.

Serena pushed upright against the soft tick of goose down. “Keenan,” she gasped her eyes wide. “I need to tell you.” She grabbed his fist with both her hands. The concern in the contact warmed through his gut. “King George, he knows that Gerard was a Jacobite. He knows that he stole the letter. Keenan, George hired the two I saw to kill Gerard.” She moved his hand back and forth in her excitement. Gavin came over to the bed. Serena looked between them both and squeezed Keenan’s hand. “He’s setting you up to fall into a trap so he can arrest you, Keenan.”

Keenan’s mind chewed on the information as he stroked her grip with his loose hand.

“Was it George’s treachery against us that made ye faint?” Gavin asked peering at her. It was the closest the man had ever allowed himself to be to Serena.

“Yes, and no,” Serena looked down and blushed. “When I tried to read the king. His thoughts were,” she hesitated, “carnal, so full of lust, I...I lost my concentration and all the other voices in the room began to flood me.” Serena wouldn’t look at them. “I heard so many things.” She glanced at Keenan. “Elizabeth Darlington may be on the king’s arm, but she’d rather be in your bed.”

Keenan thought he heard a spark of jealousy in her voice. “I danced with Elizabeth last year, nothing more.” Why did he need to defend his actions? “What about the two on the bridge? Did ye sense them in the room?”

Serena nodded. “Yes, I think they were there. I only had a glimpse of their thoughts, and they were tangled with the rest, but yes, I think they were there.”

“Did they recognize ye,” Keenan said softly.

She shook her head. “No. I only saw them that night through my mind, not my eyes. They’ve never seen me before.”

“So when the king was touching ye,” Gavin said, “he was imagining all sorts of perverted things with ye?”

Serena nodded.

“And with his mistress standing right behind him,” Gavin said.

“And when Keenan announced that we were handfasted,” Serena said and squeezed his hand tightly. “The king’s thoughts moved toward eliminating you, Keenan. That’s when I really understood his plan to trap you.”

Keenan nodded. His impulsive thrust to get the king’s hands off Serena had brought forth his dark plans. Spontaneous strategy sometimes worked in ones favor.

“Good thing ye said what ye said,” Gavin slapped Keenan’s shoulder. “So what do we do now?”

Keenan walked over toward the fire. His mind maneuvered through scenarios, rejecting and building plans.

Strategy.

He felt his blood hum with energy.

To outwit a king, and his council. He looked back to Serena. There were definite advantages to having a witch in the family. His forehead tensed. He turned to the two watching him. “I’ll announce to the king that Gerard was in fact a traitor and Jacobite. That I discovered his treachery but before I could bring charges against him, someone murdered him.”

“Not William,” Serena said.

“I will say there was speculation that others may have been involved, loyal to England. But until we find out more about the two ye saw on the bridge, I willna say more.”

Serena nodded.

“I think then I must name Lachlan an incompetent leader in his indecision about the Bonnie Prince,” Keenan said.

“Ye willna call him a Jacobite?” Gavin asked.

Keenan shook his head. “Better to show him indecisive which is weaker. I will claim support of George’s right to rule all of Britain and convince him that Lachlan’s army is mine to control. The rest of the plan will continue as before.”

Gavin nodded. “Best be convincing, Keenan.”

It wouldn’t be too difficult. Apart from Keenan hating George for his lustful desires for Serena, the man had better sense than what he’d witnessed in the untried Prince Charles. Keenan really didn’t support either when it came down to it. He supported peace for his clan and freedom to be Scottish. And he preferred to proclaim fidelity to a ruler whom he respected. Right now George, with all his pompous ways, was still the lesser of the two evils.

Brodick rapped on the door and walked in. “They await yer return with all the speculation ye would see at a cock fight.”

“The two of ye, stay with Serena. Make certain no one tries to take her anywhere. If they seize me, get her out of here.” He knew his words scared her, but she didn’t say anything. Very brave. Serena would make any highland warrior proud.

Keenan walked back and engulfed her icy hand in his hot one. “Thank ye, Serena, for unveiling the trap. I will endeavor to step around it.”

“You better,” her eyes sparked with mock irritation. “We have our own business to finish.”

He squeezed her hand and walked out the door.

Serena listened as his boots clipped down the corridor, fading into silence. Brodick and Gavin looked between each other and then both turned to her. She folded hands in her lap. The ordeal in the ballroom still weighed against her limbs along with the heaviness of the court dress. It was well over an hour before the official start to the king’s reception so she had time to rest. She smoothed the gown in the awkward silence and glanced at the two Macleans. They still stared at her.