The sun was barely up when Jamie signaled that they should break camp for another day. This morning he seemed even more abrupt than usual. He carefully avoided Lindsey and he spoke only when necessary as he went about his chores. When he saw Ian helping Lindsey into her saddle, he turned away so quickly he nearly jostled Douglas Gordon, who was standing beside him.
The older man watched as Jamie pulled himself into the saddle and set out at a fast clip. He did not know what had transpired between Jamie MacDonald and his daughter last night, but he had seen the fire in her eyes as she had exited the circle of firelight.
Douglas smiled to himself. He had often sampled his daughter’s temper through the years. She could lay a man flat with but a few well-chosen words. Still, he wondered if even Lindsey could get the better of Jamie MacDonald. The man had fire enough for a dozen men. And his temper had been building for many miles.
As he mounted, Douglas swallowed a chuckle. He would have enjoyed seeing his daughter spar with the Heartless MacDonald. Aye. He would have enjoyed it immensely. The two were evenly matched. Still, there seemed something more than anger between them. He had seen it several times in the way the lad watched her when she talked and laughed with her brothers; in the way she studied Jamie when she thought no one was looking. Lindsey’s gaze followed Jamie’s mount as it disappeared into the forest mist, her eyes narrowed in thought. There was a softness around her mouth. Aye. There was indeed something more than anger between them.
With a few sharp words, the old man sent their company racing to catch up with the fast pace set by their leader. In a weary gesture he pressed a hand to his back. He would be grateful when they reached their goal. The years were beginning to take their toll.
* * *
It was nearly dusk when their weary party rode through the spotless streets of Edinburgh. Lindsey and her brothers swiveled their heads, craning their necks to drink in all the strange new sights and sounds. So many people and animals crowded together on the streets. So many lovely buildings, towering one above the other.
Vendors in wagons and carts clattered along the wide, clean streets, on their way home from Lawnmarket. In Market Cross the crowds were thinner, as men and women hurried home to prepare their supper. The crowds were dressed somberly, befitting the mood of the city since the advent of the austere churchman, John Knox. Some said he held more power with the people than the queen. It was no secret that Knox despised the woman who wore the crown, branding her a harlot.
Their silent party rode past the grand houses and gardens of Canongate. Towering above the rooftops of the great stone houses were the towers and battlements of Holyroodhouse, the stone fortress that was home to the queen.
Lindsey glanced at her youngest brother, Neal. He fairly twitched with anticipation. As did Robbie, whose face was wreathed with smiles. Murray looked stunned by the assault of sound and color, Donald bemused by the sight of dozens of young women in every manner of dress. Lindsey shared the emotions of all her brothers. This world was so new and wonderful. And soon they would be in the presence of the queen.
Jamie drew to a halt before a comfortable inn and handed his reins to a waiting groom.
“It is too late this night to present ourselves at Holyrood,” he said wearily. “I will secure rooms for us here until the morrow.”
Lindsey felt a wave of regret. She had waited so long. Another night would seem like an eternity.
Following the innkeeper, she watched as her father and brothers were given a large suite of rooms on the second floor. Across the hall a cluster of rooms was assigned to the men who accompanied them. Lindsey’s feeling of regret deepened. Being the only woman in their party, she would most probably be assigned to an upper floor, sequestered from the others for her own protection.
From his position beside her, Jamie swallowed his smile. Lindsey’s every mood was easy to read. The lass’s emotions were evident on her face. It was clear that she was expecting nothing more than a cheerless room with a hard bed and a pitcher of cold water.
Wearily Lindsey followed Jamie and the innkeeper down a long hall and halted in front of another suite of rooms. Once inside, her regret turned to pleasure. In the sleeping chamber, the large feather bed was ringed by sheer curtains. Through the balcony windows drifted the muted sounds of the city. In the adjoining sitting chamber, an inviting chaise was drawn up before a roaring fire, and set up before the fireplace was a tub of steaming water. Beside the tub was a young maidservant waiting to assist her guest.
“Is this acceptable, my lord?” the innkeeper asked Jamie.
Jamie turned to Lindsey. “Does it meet with your approval, my lady?”
“Oh. Aye.” Her smile grew as she realized that Jamie had thoughtfully made these arrangements.
How could he know what it meant to her to look her best for her first meeting with Queen Mary? Because of Jamie’s kindness, she would have a chance to wash away the grime of their long journey. And in the morning, rested and renewed, she would finally be presented to the queen, wearing her finest gown.
“When you have had a chance to refresh yourself,” the innkeeper said, “there will be a meal awaiting you below stairs, my lady.”
“Thank you.” Lindsey’s gaze moved beyond the innkeeper to where Jamie stood watching her. “Thank you very much. You are most kind.”
With a nod, Jamie turned and left, followed by the innkeeper.
With a sigh of pleasure Lindsey gave herself over to the servant, who assisted her in removing her clothes. She sank into the perfumed water and luxuriated in the maid’s ministrations.
An hour later, her hair freshly washed and arranged, and wearing a neatly pressed gown from her trunk, she entered a small dining alcove below stairs where her father and the others awaited her.
A fire crackled in the fireplace. The men, goblets in hand, seemed relaxed and cheerful to have their long journey at an end.
Jamie, who stood beside the fireplace, was deep in conversation with Douglas Gordon. The two glanced up as Lindsey entered. Douglas excused himself and crossed the room to take his daughter’s hand. Jamie remained at the fireplace, one hand resting atop the mantel, the other holding a goblet. At the sight that greeted him, his hand tightened around the stem.
Lindsey’s gown was emerald satin, with a jeweled bodice that molded her firm young breasts, then fell in soft folds to the tips of her kid slippers. A necklace of emeralds and diamonds adorned her throat, the gleaming stones catching and reflecting the light of the candles. At her lobes were matching earrings. Her waist-length hair was held away from her face with jeweled combs.
This was a far cry from the lass who fought like a man and who rolled herself into a rough cloak to sleep along the forest trails. This woman, Jamie knew, would put the wealthy, titled women at court to shame. And the peacocks who surrounded the queen would all fight for her attention.
He watched as Ian MacPherson pushed past her brothers to catch Lindsey’s hand.
“My lady. You light this room with your radiance.”
Lindsey smiled sweetly at his compliment. But as he bowed over her hand, she gazed beyond him to where Jamie stood alone. For one long moment their gazes met and held. He inclined his head slightly. She felt her cheeks redden.
As she crossed the room on her father’s arm, Jamie signaled to a serving wench, who brought him another goblet. When Lindsey approached, he offered it.
“Ale, my lady?”
She flushed as their fingers brushed. Lifting the goblet to her lips, she drank and felt the warmth slowly heat her blood. Or was it the nearness of this man? She could no longer be certain.
She had never seen him look so handsome. In deference to the sophistication of the city, he had put away the rough garb of the Highlander. His shirt and tunic were tailored to fit his wide shoulders and narrow waist. Fine breeches molded his hips and thighs, and his boots were of the softest leather. His thick, shaggy hair had been shorn and he was clean shaven, revealing fine, even teeth and a proud, rugged countenance that held her gaze even when she wanted to turn away.
“Let us sup,” Murray grumbled. “For too long I have been forced to eat venison and dried biscuits.” He placed a hand on his stomach. “Tonight I desire my fill of ale and mutton, and every manner of sweets.”
“Then you shall have it.” Jamie turned, deferring to Douglas Gordon. “Will you lead the way, sir?”
The older man offered his arm to his daughter and the others followed them to a table covered with fine linen and china and aglow with candles.
Douglas sat at the head, with Lindsey at his right. Ian MacPherson snared the seat beside Lindsey. Her brothers and men of their clan scattered themselves around the table. Jamie took the chair across from Lindsey, on Douglas Gordon’s left. As he sat, he saw Ian lean close to whisper in Lindsey’s ear and berated himself for the twinge of anger that caught him by surprise. Jealousy? Aye. This time he could not deny the feeling. He would not allow himself to dwell upon it. If the lady favored Ian MacPherson, there was nothing to be done about it.
Jamie nodded to the innkeeper, who ordered the servants to begin. Several serving wenches scurried into the room, carrying steaming trays of food.
In no time the table and sideboard groaned under the weight of trays of partridge, pheasant, mutton and whole fish.
As they filled their plates Neal asked Jamie, “Have you been to Edinburgh often, my lord?”
“Often enough to know that I much prefer life in the Highlands.”
Donald’s head came up. “Father said you are acquainted with the noble men and women at court.”
“Aye.”
A slow smile spread across Donald’s face. “Could you, perhaps, point out one or two ladies who are not spoken for?”
“Not spoken for?” Robbie scoffed. “Since when has it mattered to you whether or not a female is betrothed, or even wed?”
“Can I help it if women throw themselves at my feet?” Donald shot back. “How many times have I tried to remind them of their duties to their husbands? Alas, they seem to forget even their solemn vows when in my presence.”
While the others groaned Ian MacPherson leaned across the table and said in a low voice, “A man after my own heart. Have no fear, lad. I will find you a willing wench.”
The exchange had not been lost on Douglas, who glowered at his son.
Neal glanced at Jamie and spoke haltingly. “ ’Tis not women I would care to meet, my lord. It is the queen’s stable master.”
“And why is that?” Jamie asked.
The lad stared at the table linen, too shy to explain.
“Neal has always loved tending the horses,” Lindsey said.
“Ah. I noticed your skill during our journey here. Yours is a natural gift with animals.”
At his unexpected compliment, Neal flushed with pleasure.
“I know Lord Menzies very well,” Jamie continued. “He takes great pride in his duties. It would be his pleasure to show you around the stables, since you share his love of horses. Perhaps he would even let you handle the queen’s steed.”
“I could not,” Neal protested quickly. “But it would be enough just to see Her Majesty’s horse.”
As Jamie continued to eat, he felt a growing kinship with this gentle lad. Neal had handled himself well on the journey, displaying skill with both sword and steed.
When they had finished the main courses, the servants brought in trays of puddings, brandied tarts and heavy, moist confections.
“I have died and gone to heaven,” Murray said, polishing off a fourth sweet. “Tell me, Jamie, will the food be even better in the queen’s own castle?”
“Some of Scotland’s finest cooks reside in Holyroodhouse,” Jamie said with a smile. “If you crave sweets, you will be more than satisfied.”
“I cannot wait.” Murray emptied his goblet. “When I return to the Highlands I will be as plump as a monarch.”
“Beware,” Donald cautioned, “lest some Highland wench mistake you for a roasted pig and carve you up for her feast.”
“That will be your fate, my lad, not mine.” Murray and the others shared a laugh.
One serving wench circled the table, filling goblets and tankards as quickly as they were emptied.
“More ale, my lady?” the servant asked.
“Nay. I have had sufficient.”
“More ale here,” Ian demanded imperiously.
Lindsey watched as Ian held up his goblet. Already his words were slurred and his eyes seemed unable to focus. Beside him, her brother Murray followed suit. The two men murmured together and laughed uproariously at each other’s jokes.
Lindsey swallowed her frown of disapproval. It had indeed been a hard journey. They deserved to relax. Besides, they would fall into their beds after dinner, and by morning would wish they had not celebrated quite so fervently. Especially if the queen took notice of their discomfort.
Lindsey noted that Jamie ate and drank very little. Throughout most of the meal he kept his silence unless one of her brothers questioned him directly. Most of the conversation had been dominated by Ian, who regaled them with tales of journeys to exotic places. From his boasts, it would seem that he had traveled the length and breadth of Scotland. Throughout their journey, he had managed to keep her brothers spellbound with his tales. Lately, however, the lads seemed far less impressed by his boastful words.
When Douglas pushed away from the table the others followed.
“Will you stay and lift a tankard or two with us, Father?” Murray called from across the room.
“Nay.” Douglas gave a wry smile. “I am more than grateful for a chance to sleep in a bed this night. I intend to be well rested before I meet with our queen.”
He noticed that the lads were far too excited to go directly to their beds.
Douglas offered his arm to his daughter and they followed Jamie from the room. They climbed the stairs and the two men paused outside Lindsey’s door. She kissed her father’s cheek and bid an awkward good-night to the man whose mere presence made her pulse quicken. Jamie lifted her hand and brushed it with his lips. A quick, intense jolt burned a trail of fire along her arm and she prayed that her father and Jamie did not see her trembling response.
“Rest well, Lindsey,” her father murmured. “For tomorrow you shall have your fondest wish. An introduction to the queen.”
“Aye, Father.” With a dreamy smile she entered her room.
As she leaned against the closed door she heard her father’s voice.
“You retire early, Jamie.”
Jamie’s voice was low, conspiratorial. “Nay. I will change to less gentlemanly attire, and repair to a nearby tavern where I might discern the mood of the people. Perhaps I will hear something useful.”
Lindsey heard the note of regret in her father’s tone. “Ah. If I were a younger lad I would be right there beside you.”
As their footsteps faded, Lindsey felt a sudden wave of jealousy. How unkind the fates that had made her a woman. How wonderful it would be to experience the freedom men took for granted. How grand to walk into a tavern and order a tankard of ale. What bliss to listen to people who had seen the queen ride through their streets like an ordinary citizen.
As she crossed the room a young servant rose up from the chaise rubbing her sleepy eyes. Startled, Lindsey drew back.
“I would help you undress, my lady,” the tired maidservant said.
“Thank you.”
As the girl began to unbutton her gown, the merest hint of a plan began to form in Lindsey’s mind. Never again would she have this opportunity to visit Edinburgh. For the rest of her life she would live a sheltered existence in the Highlands, with only her memories of this happy time. Why should she not, just this once, taste the freedom she so desired?
“Have you brothers?” Lindsey asked.
“Aye, my lady. Two.” The wench made a little face. “Both younger than I. Mayhap you saw my brother Cedric. He is the groom here at the inn. My little brother, Edmund, helps muck the stalls.”
“Cedric.” Lindsey recalled the young lad who had taken their horses. He was only slightly taller than she. “Could you bring me a pair of his breeches and a shirt?”
“My lady?” The servant paused, her hand on the buttons, and stared at Lindsey as if she had gone mad.
“I would pay you well.” Lindsey dug into her pocket and produced a gold sovereign.
The coin was enough to feed the servant’s family for a year. The lass considered for only a moment. “Aye, my lady. When do you need these clothes?”
“Immediately.”
The girl blinked. “I will see to it.”
The maid hurried from the room and returned a short time later with the items Lindsey had requested. In addition to breeches and a shirt, she had a coarse tunic and a hat like those worn by workers along the wharf.
Slipping into the clothes, Lindsey realized the value of the tunic. Hanging loosely over her shirt, it managed to hide most of her womanly curves. She struggled to pull her hair into a knot. Even with the servant’s help, it was a difficult task to conceal so much hair. But with the hood of the tunic pulled up and the hat pulled low on her face, she was satisfied with the results.
“Would you guess my gender?” she asked the servant. “Nay, my lady. I would not have believed one as beautiful as you could look like a common street lad.”
Hearing the door to Jamie’s room open, Lindsey touched a finger to her lips.
Turning, she pressed the gold sovereign into the servant’s hand. “You must not breathe a word of this.”
“Aye, my lady.” The girl’s fingers curled around the treasure. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Lindsey listened until Jamie’s footsteps faded. Then, opening her door a crack, she peered both ways before starting out.
When she reached the lower floor she could hear the sound of raucous laughter from the dining alcove. The front door closed behind Jamie. Slipping quickly past the room where the others still drank, she hurried out the front door and slipped into the shadows. It was an easy matter to follow the tall figure as he strode purposefully down the nearly deserted street.
When Jamie paused at the door to a tavern Lindsey crouched in the bushes, her heart pounding. A moment later he stepped inside.
Lindsey approached the door of the tavern, then paused with her hand on the door. She had never before been inside such a place. She had no idea what to expect. Sudden fear gripped her at the boldness of her deed. She had taken no time to think this through.
What would happen to her if she were found out? Could a woman go to Tolbooth Prison for such an impertinent act? And even if she were not imprisoned, what would happen if Jamie saw through her disguise? He would be furious. Worse, he would drag her back to her father and brothers and force her to admit her deceit. She would be humiliated.
An inner voice warned her to return to the inn before her little charade was discovered.
As she stood there pondering her fate, a hand came up behind her and shoved the door open.
“Come on, lad. Tarry not when there’s ale to be had,” said a voice directly behind her.
As the door opened she was pressed into a smoky room that reeked of ale and unwashed bodies. Clusters of men sat at scarred wooden tables, talking and laughing among themselves. More men gathered in a corner, where one in their party was speaking in loud tones.
“. . . bastard. He told his manservant, who told the groom, who passed it on to the scullery maid.”
There was a chorus of shocked exclamations.
Lindsey’s eyes went wide as a man at a table near hers pulled a tavern wench onto his lap and began fondling her. Instead of slapping him, as Lindsey surely would have done, the wench laughed and threw her arms around his neck.
“Here, now,” one of the men in the crowd yelled. “If you want to do that, laddie, take her to her room.”
Amid a chorus of rough laughter, the girl caught his hand and led him toward a door.
Lindsey’s mouth opened in astonishment. So this was why men chose to drink in a place like this. It was not merely the company of other men they sought. It was for the favors of the tavern wenches, as well. She shook off a feeling of revulsion.
“Ale, lad?” A buxom wench sidled up beside Lindsey as she cringed in her seat in a shadowy corner of the room.
“Aye.”
Lindsey’s gaze scanned the crowd until she found Jamie. She studied his broad back as he stood to one side of the room with a group of men. Within minutes they were talking and laughing with him as if he was an old friend.
She gave in to the luxury of studying Jamie MacDonald. Even in a room filled with men, he was a man set apart from the others. It was true that he was taller than most, but that alone did not distinguish him. Nor was it the fact that he was clearly the most handsome man in the room. It was something indefinable. Perhaps the way he carried himself. He seemed so self-assured. Or perhaps it was the note of authority in his voice. It was clear that he was a man accustomed to giving orders and having them followed without question.
Lindsey tried to study the others in the tavern. But her gaze was drawn once more to Jamie.
When the tavern wench returned with a tankard, Lindsey paid her and watched as the woman made her way to Jamie’s side. The wench whispered in his ear and he gave her an easy smile before responding.
As he followed the tavern wench from the room, Lindsey’s heart sank. Her hand tightened on the handle of the tankard until she felt her nails bite into the flesh of her palm.
How could she have been such a fool? She had believed his lie, that he was coming here to get a sense of what was happening in the queen’s castle. Damn the man. He had come here to drink and bed a whore. And for that, he had not wanted to be saddled with her brothers and the other men. He had thought to keep them all ignorant of his true intentions.
Tears blurred her vision and she wiped them savagely with the back of her hand. She would not cry over the Heartless MacDonald. He was not worthy of her tears. A string of oaths crept unbidden to her mind. She swallowed them back.
She glanced around, eager to be rid of this place. Just behind her was a door. She hoped it would lead to fresh air. Blindly she slammed down her tankard and stumbled from the room.
Outside the door she found herself in a darkened hallway leading to several rooms. At the far end was a stairway leading to the upper floors of the tavern.
As she passed a closed door she heard a man’s voice raised in anger. A woman’s shrill voice responded. She hurried on.
But before she could slip past the next door, Lindsey recognized Jamie’s voice and came to a sudden halt. Against her better judgment Lindsey bent, pressing her ear to the door.
A woman’s voice, soft, muted, was saying, “She cannot remain.”
Jamie’s words were muffled. “Tell her I am arrived. She will no longer be alone in this.”
Lindsey heard the thread of near hysteria in the woman’s tone. “Nay, my lord. It is too late. She bid me prepare her for a journey this night. She will tarry no longer.”
“Take me to her.” Jamie’s voice rose. “Now.”
Lindsey heard the scrape of a chair against the floor and Jamie’s voice, stronger, as he added, “I will persuade her of her folly.”
“Oh, my lord. If only you can.”
Thinking quickly, Lindsey ducked into a darkened doorway as the door to the room was thrown open, spilling light into the hall. Jamie strode past, accompanied by a woman dressed in an elegant blue velvet traveling gown and ermine-lined cloak.
As they passed, Lindsey slipped from the shadows and followed at a discreet distance, driven by some inner demon to follow. Though her heart lay heavy in her breast, she could not tear herself away. She would see this mystery woman who owned Jamie MacDonald’s heart.