“Majesty. Look.”
Lord Desmond Frazer pointed. Beside him, the queen stared in astonishment at the sight of hundreds of Highlanders gathering on the far bank of the loch.
Within the hour, Jamie MacDonald and the Gordons had been ferried across and stood before their queen.
“We are here, Majesty, to return you, in triumph, to Holyroodhouse,” Jamie announced, bowing low over her hand.
“Oh, Jamie, my friend. You are as good as your word.”
“As are the Gordons, Majesty. It was Douglas Gordon who summoned the lairds.”
“And it was Jamie’s eloquent words that persuaded them to leave their homes and follow him,” Douglas said.
“Then my gratitude to both of you,” Mary said. “I rejoiced when your messenger arrived, assuring me that all were safe. My husband,” she said, glancing at Lord Darnley who stood meekly beside her, “has revealed the names of all the lairds who plotted against me. Already many have fled the country. The rest, including Ruthven, lie dead.”
Jamie felt relieved that the men who had attacked Brice Campbell were finally punished for their crimes.
“And now with your army,” Mary continued with a note of happiness, “our success is assured.”
With pride Neal led the queen’s horse from the stable and assisted her into the saddle.
“Where is your sister?” Mary asked as she accepted his hand.
“Jamie sent her home, Majesty. Along with Murray and Donald, who were wounded by the highwaymen.”
“I would wager she did not go willingly.”
“Nay, Majesty. There were words between them.”
The queen glanced at Jamie. That would explain his haggard appearance. Love, she thought with a sigh, was never easy.
“We ride to Edinburgh,” she called in a loud, clear voice. The men cheered.
“But first, my friends, there is a most important stop we must make along the way. Jamie, I would send a rider ahead with a message.”
“Aye, Majesty.” He summoned a rider from among the Highlanders, and waited while the queen prepared several long missives.”
As she handed over the scrolls, Jamie saw the light in her eyes, and suddenly knew. The queen would stop first at Kinloch House. And see for herself if Brice Campbell, the Highland Barbarian, had survived.
* * *
As their horses’ hooves ate up the miles, Jamie’s thoughts grew pensive. It seemed so long since he had been home. And when he had left, Brice had been hovering near death.
Throughout this long adventure he had adamantly refused to allow himself to think the worst. Brice was a strong man who had been wounded many times before. Always he had regained his strength. But this time, the wounds had been brutal. And Brice was no longer the young, carefree lad he had once been. Nor, Jamie thought gloomily, was he. Strange how one adventure could change a man’s life forever. He felt so much older and more battered than when he had left Kinloch on that bitter morning. But no wiser.
As they topped a rise, Jamie caught sight of Kinloch House in the distance. As always, his heartbeat quickened at the view. He felt as he had that first time he had seen it as a terrified orphan, carried in the arms of a rough Highlander. The magnificent structure sprawled between two towering peaks.
Their hoofbeats thundered as hundreds of Highlanders assembled in the courtyard of Kinloch House. The doors were thrown wide and those assembled inside spilled forth to greet their monarch.
Jamie stood at attention on one side of Mary, with Douglas on the other. They watched as Meredith, Brice’s beautiful wife, curtsied before the queen and presented her bairns.
“Tell me of Brice,” Mary said softly, gripping Jamie’s arm for support as she waited for words.
Meredith’s eyes filled with tears, and for a moment Jamie felt his heart stop. Then he realized that hers were tears of joy.
“He lives, Majesty. And already he is well enough to make us all miserable with his demands.”
The queen pressed a hand to her heart and felt her own eyes fill. “Praise heaven. I would see him.”
“At once, Majesty. But first, my sisters wait to greet you.”
Mary patiently greeted Brenna and her English husband, Morgan Grey, and the youngest sister, Megan, and her Irish husband, Kieran O’Mara, and dutifully placed her hand upon all their bairns’ heads. Then, her patience wearing thin, Mary insisted upon being taken to see her beloved barbarian.
As they climbed the stairs, Jamie thought about all the battles that had been waged within these walls. And all the love and laughter this old fortress had witnessed. Now another generation of bairns laughed and cried and played through the rooms.
They entered Brice’s chambers and Jamie watched as across the room, Brice was helped to his feet by two of his men. He made a gallant bow before the queen rushed forward and fell into his outstretched arms. And for the first time that Jamie could recall, his queen burst into tears.
“There now,” Brice murmured. “Am I such an old weak man that you must weep for my wounds? Has Meredith not told you that I am healing nicely?”
“Aye,” she cried through her tears. “It is my condition. I find I cry easily these days.”
“Ah.” Brice drew her close for another embrace. Over her head he winked at Jamie. “All women seem to cry more easily when they are with child. I well remember Meredith’s tears before our last bairn was born.”
“It is a comfort to know that I am not—the only one to behave in such a strange fashion.” Mary wiped her tears and forced a smile to her lips. Sniffling she asked, “Are you well enough to sup with me before I leave for Edinburgh?”
“I would not miss it. Meredith has planned a grand banquet.” He gave her a mysterious smile. “We received your message. All is in readiness.”
Her smile brightened. “Then I will refresh myself from the rigors of our journey and prepare for the feast.”
Mary followed Meredith from the room, leaving Jamie alone with Brice.
For a moment the two stared at each other in silence. Then Jamie strode across the room and caught Brice in a warm embrace.
“You are truly well?”
“Aye. The wounds heal. Slowly. But they heal.” Brice studied the haggard features and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I knew you would succeed,” he muttered.
“Did you? That was more than I knew. I merely did as you suggested.”
“From the queen’s missive, you did much more than that. She considers you her champion.”
Jamie hung his head at Brice’s scrutiny.
“And there are rumors of—misadventures, as well,” Brice said thoughtfully.
Jamie’s head came up sharply. “What have you heard?”
“Only that you had the misfortune to meet a Highland lass with a temper to match your own.”
Jamie swallowed and remained silent. But his pain was evident to the man who had raised him.
“Go and refresh yourself,” Brice said. “And then return and lift a tankard with me. I would hear everything.”
“Aye.” Brushing a hand wearily across his eyes, Jamie made his way to his old chambers and sank down gratefully on the bed. There had been no rest for him in many days. He was too weary to even remove his sword and scabbard. And yet he could not seem to summon sleep. His thoughts were tormented by his last view of Lindsey, riding defiantly out of his life and vowing never to forgive him.
* * *
Jamie, looking splendid in black breeches and tunic, descended the stairs. He could hear the hum of conversation in the great hall. When he entered, he was astounded to see the great number of guests who had been invited to sup with their queen. Besides the hundreds of Highlanders who had ridden with him, there were all the Campbells and their families, and the dignitaries from the surrounding towns and villages, who were so rarely privileged to bask in the presence of their monarch.
As he made his way through the crush of people, Murray Gordon caught his arm and pulled him aside. Standing with him were his three brothers, who greeted Jamie warmly.
“So,” Jamie said, “you are healed. When did you arrive?”
“Only this morrow. We left as soon as the queen’s missive arrived.”
We. Jamie longed to ask about Lindsey, but his pride prevented him from doing so. Besides, he warned himself, the lass was too furious with him to ever forgive him.
“I would say this now,” Murray began, “before the ale flows too freely, getting in the way of my tongue.”
The others chuckled.
“What is it?” Jamie tensed.
“I resented you when you invaded our home.” Murray flushed but forced himself to go on. “And I resented the way you behaved like a mule in the presence of my sister.”
“Mule?”
Murray held up his hand and said, “Aye. A mule. But then, Lindsey is not the easiest of lasses. Now I would apologize for my unkind thoughts and at times my rude behavior toward you.” He offered his hand. “If ever I find myself in battle with a dozen men against me, I would have you at my side, Jamie MacDonald. You are truly the finest warrior in Scotland.”
Jamie stared at his hand in amazement, wondering what had brought this on. Then he smiled and accepted his handshake.
The others patted him on the back and offered their hands.
“Come, now,” Murray said. “I was told to see that you sat with the queen at the table of honor. Her husband, ’tis said, is indisposed.”
The four escorted Jamie through the throng until they reached the head table, where they were greeted warmly by the queen and by Meredith and Brice. But when Brice moved aside, Jamie was astonished to see standing behind him, a vision in emerald satin.
“Lindsey.” Jamie breathed her name as he strode forward, then halted abruptly. “How did you come to be here, my lady?”
Lindsey struggled to hide the tumultuous emotions she was experiencing at the nearness of him. The rogue still had the ability to make her pulse race and her blood heat. “The queen commanded it. Else I would still be in banishment at my father’s fortress.”
Banishment. Jamie’s heart fell at her choice of words. She was making it as plain as possible that she was not here of her own free will.
Both of them were unaware that Mary was watching them with great interest.
“Jamie,” Mary said imperiously, “you and Lindsey will sit to my right. Brice and Meredith will sit on my left side.”
All bowed and took their places when the queen was seated.
Mary’s confessor, Bishop Edmund Grant, led a prayer of thanksgiving, which went on endlessly, as he praised the queen, the Highlanders and all loyal to the throne. At last dozens of servants, recruited from nearby villages, helped serve the feast.
The meal was a festive affair, with silver trays of whole roasted boar, partridge and pheasant, mutton and venison. There were baskets filled with breads and trays of puddings, tarts and pastries of every kind. Tankards and goblets were filled with ale and hot mulled wine.
There were toasts to the queen’s beauty, and to her wisdom, and to her unborn child. And there were toasts to the men who had left their homes to see to the queen’s safety, and toasts to the men who led them.
Through it all, Jamie and Lindsey sat silent and awkward in each other’s presence.
This was not, Jamie brooded, the reunion he had planned. He detested the prying eyes, the knowing looks that passed among many in their company. Worst of all, he was aware of the tension in the lass beside him.
For Lindsey, the hours seated beside Jamie were the longest she had ever spent. She was achingly aware of the muscled thigh that brushed hers, of the callused fingers that closed around the stem of his goblet.
When the banquet was finished, they retired to a great hall, made festive with fires blazing on the hearth and a velvet throne on a raised platform.
When all had assembled the queen took her seat upon the throne and announced, “I command Jamie MacDonald to come forward.”
Bewildered, Jamie made his way to the throne and bowed before the queen.
Robbie stepped forward and recited stirring verses about Jamie MacDonald, and his loyalty to his beloved queen. When he had finished, many in the crowd were openly weeping.
At a signal, Brice handed the queen his jeweled sword. “Kneel,” Mary whispered.
Jamie knelt.
The crowd fell silent.
In loud, clear tones the queen intoned, “James Devin MacDonald, I pronounce you the Queen’s Champion and Sir Knight. Along with your title, I award to you the lands that stretch from Callender in Perthshire to the land from Sterling to the Clyde, and I appoint you laird of all the MacDonald clans in Glengarry, who have long been without a leader.” She touched each of his shoulders with the blade of the sword, then said, “Arise, Sir James Devin MacDonald, and accept the acknowledgement of a grateful queen and her people.”
Stunned beyond belief, Jamie stood and felt the queen’s hand upon his arm. When he turned, the crowd burst into cheering. For long minutes he acknowledged their applause. Then he turned to where Lindsey had been standing with her father and brothers. How proud he was to share this with her.
His heart fell. Her place was empty.
As soon as he could do so without undue notice, he slipped away from the festivities.
* * *
The night air was cool, the darkened courtyard deserted. It was the perfect place for Lindsey to hide the tears that spilled from her eyes. She was overcome with emotion.
Sir James Devin MacDonald. Jamie was now a man of title and privilege. A legend among her people. And a legend would never be satisfied with a mere Highland lass.
She had always been a foolish dreamer. But now she must face reality, no matter how painful.
She had seen how easily Jamie slipped on the mantle of authority. Now he would become part of the queen’s court in Edinburgh, where beautiful women would vie for his affection.
It mattered not, she consoled herself. He was a cold man. Cold and cruel. Look how easily he had banished her. And though they had been apart all these long days, he had greeted her as though she were a stranger. Aye. He would have no difficulty walking away from her again. Her mother had been right all those years ago. The tears started afresh, and she was helpless to stop them.
* * *
Jamie was grateful for the bite in the air. He wanted nothing more than to walk off his frustration and to think without interruption. As he walked, his hands balled into fists at his sides.
This day had been the culmination of every warrior’s dream. Knighthood. The leadership of a clan. A castle of his own and lands enough for generations of MacDonalds to work and rule. And yet it was all empty.
The lass who owned his heart had made it plain that she would never forgive him for sending her away.
He cursed the fates that had brought them together. His life before Lindsey had been uncomplicated. Now life had lost its flavor. He would be well rid of this place. He needed a new challenge.
With an angry oath he rounded the corner, then stopped in mid-stride. A lone figure, wrapped in a hooded cloak, stood alone staring at the towering peaks in the distance.
She whirled at the sound of approaching footsteps, and he felt his heart stop.
Lindsey swallowed, brushing away the incriminating tears that clung to her lashes.
“Well, my lord.” She stiffened her spine as he approached. “Your legend has grown. You must feel very proud. Even my brothers boast to all who will listen that they fought beside the Heartless MacDonald.”
He flinched, hating the name. “I do not know what I feel. It has all happened too quickly.”
“When you return to Edinburgh, you will be acclaimed a hero. You will surely have your choice of celebrations to attend, my lord.” Not to mention, she thought dismally, his choice of women.
“I will not tarry in Edinburgh. Mary now has enough soldiers to assure her safety, thanks to your father’s efforts.”
“You will journey to your new castle then?”
Jamie glanced away, unable to look at her. The sight of her beauty caused his heart to lodge in his throat. With his gaze fastened on the moon he said, “It is expected of a new laird. I will have to inspect my lands and get to know my people.”
“You will want Wolf to accompany you to your new home.”
“Wolf lives?” He turned to her with a look of astonishment. By the gods, she had wrought a miracle, and all because of her persistence.
“I thought my brothers would have told you. Wolf awaits you in my chambers.”
“Your chambers? You have turned him into a pet, my lady?”
Lindsey bristled, feeling her temper return. “I did not force him. It was his choice. He is very content to walk by my side, to eat from my hand and to sleep beside my bed.”
She had just described heaven. Jamie knew of another who would be content with that, but he kept his silence and turned away.
Slowly she turned to study his proud profile. “Mayhap he tired of the battle and yearns for a life of ease.”
His voice roughened. “It is what all warriors yearn for. But they fool themselves. The battles never end.”
He drew his cloak around him and began to turn away.
“Aye. Especially if the warrior is the Heartless MacDonald, who stirs battles wherever he goes.”
Jamie turned on her, his eyes blazing. “I have told you how I hate that name. Why do you persist in trying to goad me, my lady?”
Lindsey drew herself up to her full height and faced him. “The name suits you. I cannot forget that you coldly sent me away. You ordered me around as though I were a servant. You shamed me in front of my family.”
His eyes darkened. Without thinking he caught her roughly by the arms. “Shamed you? God in heaven, I wanted to spare you any further pain. I sent you away because I could not risk having you harmed. Why can you not accept that?”
Too late, he remembered the jolt that always accompanied the mere touch of her. He felt it now, swift and jarring. His fingers tightened, drawing her near.
“I will not stand here and allow you to shout at me.” She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grasp and dragged her roughly to him
“Damn you, woman. Why must you always fight me?”
Lindsey struggled to push free of his arms. “I will not be bullied by—”
“I had forgotten. There is only one way to stop your curses.” His lips covered hers in a kiss, cutting off her protest.
Each of them reacted as though they had been struck by lightning. Fire raced through them, heating their blood.
“God in heaven.” Jamie lifted his head and framed her face with his hands, staring deeply into her eyes. “You may think me a bully and a...”
“Son of a viper,” she added, watching his lips draw closer.
“Aye.” Perhaps, he mused, he could perform a miracle himself, if he but persisted. “Will you at least admit that you missed me?” He brushed his lips over hers, feeling a wild pulsing deep inside.
She could go on being kissed like this all night. She had never forgotten the fire, or the needs that surfaced each time he kissed her. “Aye, I did miss your kisses. Though at times you are an overbearing brute. I missed the fighting.” She parted her lips. “And the making up.”
With his lips a fraction above hers he muttered, “Admit that you love me, Lindsey.”
She swallowed, anxious for his kiss. With a little sigh she muttered, “Only if you say the words first.”
He brushed his lips lightly over hers and felt the flames begin to lick along his spine. The miracle was within his grasp. “I love you, Lindsey Gordon. With all my heart.”
She moaned and drew him close. “And I love you, Jamie MacDonald.”
With a laugh he lifted his head. He dared not kiss her again. Not yet. He knew that this time, once the floodgates were opened, there would be no stopping the outpouring of passion he felt for her.
Suddenly grasping her hand, he began to run toward the castle, forcing her to race by his side to keep up.
“Stop. Whatever are you doing?”
“You will see.”
When they reached the great room, he hauled her along beside him as he searched among the guests until he came to Douglas Gordon.
“I would have a word with you,” Jamie said, interrupting Douglas and Brice as they talked with the queen. Everyone looked up in surprise of his brusque behavior.
“Aye. What is it?” Douglas asked.
“I seek your permission to wed your daughter.”
Douglas turned a startled gaze on his daughter and saw, despite her breathlessness and disheveled appearance, the dazed expression of love in her eyes. “Aye, Jamie. I have long known how the two of you felt. You know I approve. But why must we discuss this here, now?”
“Because the bishop is her to speak the words. And the queen is here to give witness. And if truth be told,” he added with a smile, “I do not wish to give your daughter time to change her mind, my lord.”
Brice threw back his head and roared with delight. “Spoken like a true strategist, Jamie lad.”
Mary clapped her hands in delight. “A wedding tonight? Aye, I approve. In fact, it is as I had hoped when I arranged that the two of you be thrown together. You know how I love romantic entanglements.” She turned to the bishop. “What say you, Excellency? Will you waive the banns and see the lad wed to his true love?”
Pursing his lips, the bishop thought a moment, then nodded gravely. “If you so command, Majesty, I will see to it.”
“A gown,” the queen said, turning to Meredith and her sisters. “Lindsey must be wed in a gown fit for such a grand occasion.”
Amid much whispering and giggling, Meredith, Brenna and Megan hauled Lindsey away to their chambers.
At Brice’s command, the servants began preparing the chapel for a wedding. Wine flowed, and the guests began eagerly awaiting the surprising ending to the queen’s feast.
Jamie, for the moment, had been forgotten. He slipped from the great hall. Like a caged panther he paced the upper hall, waiting for a glimpse of his bride-to-be. Surely going into battle was easier than this.
What were the women telling Lindsey? Perhaps they were advising her against the match. Would they fill her head with stories of the dangers of marriage to a warrior, or the terrors of bearing his children?
When the sisters finally slipped from Lindsey’s chambers, their faces were unreadable. They kissed Jamie’s cheek, then went below stairs to join the others in the chapel awaiting the arrival of the happy couple.
Staring at the closed door to Lindsey’s chambers, Jamie could bear the waiting no longer. With a quick tap he entered. For a moment he paused just inside the doorway. Lindsey turned from the looking glass, and he caught his breath at the sight of her.
She wore a gown of dazzling white shot with silver threads. At her throat was a necklace of diamonds that burned with the light of a thousand candles. Her hair was worn loose, tumbling in a cascade of curls down her back, and entwined with ivy and wildflowers.
On her face was a look so filled with love he felt his heart stop.
“Oh, my lady,” he said, taking a tentative step toward her: “You are so beautiful, words fail me.”
“And you, my handsome warrior, make my hands tremble.”
He caught her hands in both of his and drew her close. “I love you, Lindsey Gordon. More than my own life.”
“And I love you, Jamie MacDonald. For now, for all time.”
He lifted her hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to each palm. And then he gathered her into his arms and brought his lips to her temple. The fire started, low and deep, and slowly built until they were consumed by it.
“I cannot wait. You must kiss me.”
“I will not be ordered around like a servant,” she muttered against his lips.
His words were warm with unspoken laughter. “Aye, my love. I will learn not to shout orders like a—bully.” The flames burned higher, until they were a raging inferno.
“Will we stay together even in battle?”
“We will ride together, and love together. But as to battle, who knows what the fates have in store for us, love.”
“But—”
His lips closed over hers, silencing her protest. As he lingered over her lips his fingers found the buttons of her gown, and he slipped it from her shoulders.
“Jamie. What are you doing? The queen awaits us below stairs.”
“Aye,” he murmured against her lips. “We will simply have to keep the queen waiting a little longer, love.”
They dropped to their knees, still clinging fiercely to each other.
And as she drew him to her, Lindsey was filled with so much love she feared her heart would explode. At long last, her noble warrior had come to claim her for his bride. But this was not some childish dream. As his lips and fingertips moved over her, she knew that this was better than any dream. The love they shared was true. And if she lived a hundred lifetimes, she would never tire of the brave, noble warrior who had won her heart.
With a sigh she gave herself up to the miracle of love.