Stuart, Elizabeth (39 page)

Mure
reached for the liquor gratefully this time. "I suppose I should have
suspected something, but it never occurred to me that David might... might...
He was a Maxwell of Beryl, for Christ's sake! We've served our kings without a
hint of scandal as far back as the Bruce!"

"A
proud heritage," Alexander murmured.

Mure
didn't notice the sarcasm. "Aye."

He
sank onto the cushioned settle, sipped his brandy without looking up. "He
was a good lad, David. Lively and quick with a smile that won men for itself
alone. I always envied him that. His easy way, the love everyone had for
him."

Alexander
didn't comment.

"He
envied my status as firstborn, my title, my possession of Beryl. Everything was
a competition between us, though in a joking way so I thought. He rebuilt the
manor house on his estate. It wasn't as large of course, but it was every bit
as luxurious as Beryl. I often wondered where he got the funds."

"Now
we know," Alexander said softly.

"Aye.
Now we know."

Mure
pulled himself together with difficulty, stared at Alexander with a creditable
assumption of the old haughty poise. "Well, this is your moment, isn't it?
Your triumph? You Hepburns always take what I value the most."

It
was as close as either had come to speaking of Elizabeth. Alexander frowned.
"Have you thought what this could mean to Jonet?"

"My
ward is my affair. I'll thank you to keep her out of this."

"Jonet
is David's daughter, you fool. She's as much involved as you or I. Would
Worrell welcome the daughter of a traitor into his family, do you think? That
is the plan, isn't it? A match between the houses?"

Mure
didn't answer. He didn't have to.

Alexander
met his eyes with a cynical smile. "Take it from one who knows. There'd be
few of our prideful Scots families to welcome the lass. If misplaced pride were
gold, this beggar land would be reeking with riches. No, Jonet would be
ruined."

"Is
that your game then, Hepburn? You want the lass for a promise to keep your
mouth shut?"

Alexander
only stared at him.

"What
a sick, convoluted creature you are. At least Murdoch was honest in how he went
about this. Crude but honest. But you..." Mure was staring at him, eyes
blazing. "Take that letter and do your worst. Tell the whole world the
truth, I don't care! But you'll never lay a hand on Jonet. She's not for the
likes of you!"

"No,
she's not." Alexander glanced down at the paper. With an odd smile, he
crumpled it, dropping it at Mure's feet. "It's yours. Kindle a fire if you
like."

"What?"

The
look on Mure's face was almost worth it. "It's yours. Consider it a
wedding present for the lass... from the sick, convoluted creature that I
am." His eyes narrowed coldly. "Just remember when you face the world
with that damned proud Maxwell heritage of yours. I'm the creature you created,
Mure. Now take that damned paper and get out!"

For
a moment Robert Maxwell simply stared. Then he knelt and picked up the letter,
straightening slowly, a man expecting ambush. "What's the game, Hepburn.
You're not just going to let me walk out. Not you."

"Get
out," Alexander repeated softly. "Get out before I go back on that
promise to Mother and skewer you like you deserve. And take this bit of news to
court when you go. The countess of Lynton has agreed to be my wife. Perhaps
that will ease your fears for your precious ward."

Mure
stared at him wordlessly, then turned and headed for the door. On the threshold
he hesitated. "Does Elizabeth know? About the letter I mean."

Alexander
shook his head. "Not yet."

Mure
took a deep breath, clenched his fists once and then again helplessly.
"Tell her... tell her I'm sorry. Tell her... oh, God, I don't know!"
And then he whirled and strode through the door.

Alexander
swirled the liquor in his glass, took a deep drink. For a moment he'd held it
in his hand—just like the warrant. But he knew his father would have understood.

"You
let him go. Just like that?"

Alexander
looked up. "Aye, just like that."

Diana
moved into the room. "Alex, you're a fool. And for a woman. All for a
woman!"

Alexander
studied her. "You heard, didn't you?"

"Certainly.
I listened at the door. So would you in my place."

Alexander
smiled. "Aye. I suppose I would. But I don't need to tell you to keep this
to yourself."

She
sat down beside him, her skirts rustling softly. "In all the years I've
known you, you've wanted nothing more than to see your father cleared. To clear
your own name, for God's sake! Your name, your honor, it's meant so much to
you. Why in the hell did you throw it away?"

He
turned back to his contemplation of the glass. "Old habits die hard. Do
you really think after all this time that a Hepburn of Durnam would be
acceptable to these pompous Scots? Don't forget I'm half English. That I've
worked for the other side. That's a very damning thing in this country—at least
if anyone learns of it. All the letters in the world won't wash my sins
away."

He
smiled wryly. "Besides, I'm used to living like this, enjoying my
notoriety, if you will. Why change it at this late date?"

Diana
sent him a sad little smile. "You're a fool, Alex. A fool and a damned bad
liar. And I hope to heaven that child never learns just how much you love
her."

Alexander
raised his glass but Diana took it instead, draining the remaining liquor in
one swallow. She held it out. "Fill it up, Alexander. And I'd like to
suggest that we both get drunk now, my love. So drunk we neither of us give a
thought to the Maxwells."

Jonet
chose her gown with care. It was her most beautiful—her most beautiful, at
least, still allowing her to sit a horse. She smiled as Agnes fussed with the
petticoats, the underskirt, the detachable black velvet and pearl-encrusted
sleeves.

Such
finery didn't matter, of course. She'd never been happier than when she'd had
nothing more than a serving lad's breeches and shirt. But she would have been
less than female if she hadn't been thrilled when her trunks were returned from
Whitestone.

And
it was just in time. For today, she was going after Alexander. And with Diana
Hampton in Edinburgh she was going to need all the help she could get.

She
stood biting her lip as Agnes hooked and fastened her into the elaborate
bodice. She couldn't help but contrast this moment with that night she had
scrambled into her boy's clothing with Alexander a half dozen steps away.

She
stood remembering that time, remembering all the love and the laughter, the
pain they had shared. If Diana thought she was going to get Alexander, she had
another thing coming. The stakes were high now. Jonet had nothing to lose.
Alexander had announced to the court that he and the countess of Lynton were
going to be wed.

She
had been stunned when she'd heard the news—stunned, hurt, and angry by turns.
But now she was only determined. She and Alexander belonged together. She was
simply going to have to find a way to force him to admit it. And to force
Robert to accept the fact that it was.

She
frowned as she thought of her uncle. She had scarcely seen Robert since that
day of their argument. She couldn't help but think it had something to do with
that beating, couldn't help but fear Alexander had been involved.

"There,
Mistress. You be ready."

"Thank
you, Agnes. I'm sure Duncan will be along any time now for our ride."

"Aye,
and does he know it'll be short? Just down the way to Holyrood?" the girl
asked disapprovingly.

"No.
We'll stop by chance. I've not seen the gardens, you know."

Jonet's
eyes narrowed thoughtfully. The king had thrown open the palace. He'd be moving
there as soon as all danger from the Douglases was past. And Alexander was
there this morning with James. Agnes had ferreted out the information at cost
of a sharp tongue-lashing and some pearls ripped from an old-fashioned caul.

Footsteps
sounded outside. "Ready, lass?"

Jonet
drew a deep breath, a difficult task with the boned stays she wore. "Aye,
Duncan, I'm ready." And she sent up a special prayer that she was.

***

The
sky was a mass of clouds. The sun had peeked through at dawn but had long since
disappeared. Alexander inspected the sky. There would be rain before long.

He
moved away from the others, strolled casually toward the circular fishpond a
few paces from the benches where the king had paused. Behind him he heard
Diana's laugh ripple out in compliment to something James was saying. Then
Margaret chimed in. The queen had been surprisingly easy to placate, hadn't
asked many questions after her son's escape.

But
then Margaret was madly in love, so caught up in the handsome boy she had wed
she was scarcely to be seen outside her apartments. Many laughed openly at her
marriage to young Henry Stewart, but Alexander couldn't find it in himself to
blame the woman.

He
frowned and gazed into the pond, watching the lazy antics of the well-fed royal
fish. If only he had Jonet, he wouldn't give a damn for these court fools
either.

"They
do nothing but swim round and round, waiting to be snapped up for dinner. Not
unlike some people I've known,
n'est-ce pas?"

"True."
Alexander glanced up. "Good morning, d'Estaing."

"But
you... you're not like these fish," the ambassador murmured. "You
create your own boundaries, make your own rules. You are no one's dinner as
yet." The man cocked his head. "Still, one wonders in which pond you
will choose to swim."

Alexander
smiled. "Fishing, d'Estaing?"

"Perhaps.
That lovely creature you are to wed is English. English and of great lands,
great wealth. This makes your young king anxious, but the boy would deny you
nothing. It makes me anxious as well. I've had you against me, Monsieur
Hepburn, and I've had you with me."

He
smiled. "I will tell you bluntly this last is what I would choose. A man
willing to chance the fates, to sacrifice his own flesh... that is a man
determined to succeed. You came to me and I might have betrayed you. You could
easily be in my country now as food for the worms."

Alexander
shrugged. "I gambled that you were a man interested in the future more
than the past. I gambled and we both won. Perhaps we should leave it at
that."

"Perhaps."

Alexander
pitched a twig into the water, watched as a fish rose to nibble inquisitively.

The
Frenchman chuckled. "Like our friend Douglas, eh? He can't resist the
bait." He turned to Alexander. "And what is the bait that would tempt
you? What would keep you in Scotland? Only tell me. D'Estaing is the soul of
discretion, you know. Perhaps it could be arranged."

"I'm
not for sale," Alexander said. "Not anymore."

The
king called out a greeting. Alexander turned. And there was Jonet, floating
across the lawn toward him, a vision in black velvet and gold silk, shining
auburn hair and huge green eyes, eyes that would haunt him the rest of his
days. And despite all his training he couldn't drag his gaze away. This might
be the last time he saw the lass.

Jonet
curtsied to the King. Alexander watched as she made a pretense of being pleased
to see Diana. A smile came unbidden. Because of the tale he had told, Jonet and
Diana had been forced to meet as friends. He had feared the lass would betray
herself, had expected her to show the outrage she undoubtedly felt. But she had
masked her feelings with a smile, had accepted Diana's "fond" kiss
with the same honeyed malice the countess had shown. The lass had grown up.

"What
beautiful women this rough land breeds up. You should have sent her to France.
She would have been dazzling."

Alexander
studied Jonet, the modest décolletage of her gown, the tiny waist he could span
with his hands. The very sight of her made him ache, made him long to take her
in his arms. "I'd say she's dazzling enough," he said softly.

"True.
They tell me her uncle, the most worthy Mure, is besieged with offers. One
hears such odd tales of the man and his misfortunes. That strange beating I can
discover so little of, for instance." D'Estaing gave an artful French
pause. "He's no friend to you, I understand."

The
king was beckoning to them. Alexander kept his smile. "I've no doubt you
understand well, d'Estaing. But do your fishing in the pond. You'll have better
luck."

He
turned away from the Frenchman, headed across the grass toward the little group
by the benches. He missed Jonet. Sweet Lord, how he missed her! It was a new
experience and one he didn't like. He'd never missed a woman like this before,
knew it would be an emptiness impossible to fill.

"Ah,
Alexander, look who's here." Diana stepped forward and linked her arm
through his. "Jonet was just telling me that her trunks finally arrived.
Didn't I tell you she'd look grand when she was properly dressed for
court?"

Alexander
bit back a smile. "Aye, I'd no doubt." He could have said the lass
looked grand when she was properly undressed as well.

Jonet
met his eyes. He sucked in his breath, felt his heartbeat quicken, the heat in
his body begin to rise. Simply standing near the lass was impossible.
"Speaking of trunks, Diana, if his Grace will give us leave I'd best get
you home. You've a great deal of packing to do I imagine."

Diana
took the hint. "Yes, what a bore but I fear you're right, Alex." She
turned to Jonet. "You may not have heard, my dear, but Alex and I are
leaving Edinburgh in the morning. We shall miss you, of course. Perhaps you
might come and see us one day. I expect to be in Scotland a good deal in the
future."

Leaving...
Alexander was leaving.

Jonet
stared at Diana, murmured something appropriate when she would rather have
slapped that glittering smile into tatters. What could she do to keep Alexander
from walking away? If he left now, she might never see him again.

If
she did, it would be as Diana's husband.

Alexander
was talking to James, taking his leave of Margaret. There was no time to think.
"Lord Hepburn, if I might trouble you a moment. I need your advice."

Alexander
looked back. She forced a smile, stepped boldly forward and linked her arm
through his free one, cutting Diana off with a smile. "I'm sure Lady
Lynton won't mind if I borrow you a moment? I wanted to ask you something about
your mother. Since you're leaving tomorrow, this is like to be my only chance."

No
doubt she sounded like a fool. James and Margaret were staring at her. Duncan
looked angry, Diana suspicious.

And
Alexander looked distant. Distant and cold. For a moment she wondered if
Elizabeth had been wrong.

"Certainly,
Mistress. You may have as much of my time as you need."

As
much as she needed.
But
she
was fighting for a lifetime.

Thunder
rumbled in the distance. A cooling wind was stirring. Duncan stared pointedly
at the sky. "Speak to Hepburn later, Jonet, but for now we'd best be
getting back. I know you've no liking for storms."

Jonet
held her ground and Alexander's arm. Duncan couldn't force her away, not here
in front of James. "Actually I've lost my fear of them, Duncan." She
smiled at Alexander. "I've come to like them quite well, as a matter of
fact."

"I
believe we might get in a quick walk," Alexander announced abruptly.
"I'll have her back, Maxwell. Before the rain, I promise you. Come along
now, Mistress, I'll be happy to help if I can."

And
then they were walking away from the others. "Do you realize, lass, that
in less than a minute you may have ruined all I've worked at for almost a
fortnight?"

Jonet
smiled. "Afraid I'll damage your reputation?"

"Damn
it, Jonet, this isn't a joke! Your future depends on this court, on what these
people think of you."

She
sent him an amused glance. "Propriety? From you, Alex?"

"None
better. How easier to learn the value of a thing than to lose it?"

They
walked on in silence. The seconds were slipping away. There were a hundred
things Jonet might have said. Words of anger and hurt. Words of accusation and
betrayal. She chose the ones that mattered most. "I've missed you,"
she said. "I've had no one to laugh with."

Alexander
frowned, kept his eyes firmly on the path at their feet. "You're fast
becoming the belle of the court. Aren't you happy, lass?"

"Happy?"
She stopped and
stared up at him.

"For
God's sake, keep walking!" he hissed. "We're speaking of my mother,
you know. Though why you couldn't have come up with something more
plausible..."

"It
was the best I could do on short notice," she shot back. "I wasn't
expecting to hear you'd be slinking off tomorrow with the woman who tried to
have me murdered!"

Alexander's
frown deepened. "In all fairness, Jonet, Diana didn't have any idea what
Thomas was like."

"Don't
excuse Diana Hampton to me, Alex. Don't you dare! She knew full well what she
did."

Alexander
took a deep breath. "I'm not trying to excuse her, lass. We've had words.
I told her myself nothing can ever pardon that."

"And
yet you say you're going to marry her." Jonet met his eyes. In spite of
her efforts she knew the hurt showed. "Are you, Alex? Are you really going
to do it?"

"Aye."

The
finality in his voice frightened her. She didn't have time to sway him. Not
here, anyway.

They
walked on. The others became a blur, then disappeared entirely through a
planting of cherry trees. In a few moments they would reach the far end of the
quadrangle and turn back. And then Alexander would be gone.

Jonet
stopped abruptly and swung around. "You promised me once you wouldn't
leave without saying good-bye. Well, I'm holding you to it. I want my
good-bye." She stared up at him. "Alone, Alex... one last time."

He
glanced at her, then quickly away. "We've said our goodbyes, lass. Once at
Stepton, again at the inn. Another will do us no good."

"But
I didn't know it was good-bye," Jonet cried. "After what you said
that night at the inn, I thought—"

She
broke off, took a deep breath. "You said you'd belong to no one but me. I
believed you, Alex. I believed that you meant it. I still do!"

"I
did mean it, Jonet. At the time I hoped—"

This
time it was Alexander who broke off and looked away. "Never mind, lass.
This isn't to be. We've got to accept that."