Chapter Two

Nathaniel watched Cat read the letter, her sunset-hued curls cascading before her as she bent over the missive.

Wild, her very countenance held a sense of freedom, like the wild horses he’d seen run along a shore when he’d once visited Spain on business for his father. Nothing locked Cat Campbell down. With her parents deceased, only her young sister kept her at Finlarig Castle, where she possessed enough knowledge of healing and battle to become a teacher herself. And it was this freedom, this passion for living on her own terms, that had snared his attention from the moment he’d spoken with her upon arrival at Finlarig. She was like no one he’d ever met.

She looked up, and his breath caught as she stared into his eyes. He knew hers to be the blue-green color that often accompanied the brilliant red hue of her hair, but the dimness of the winter sun made them seem darker. “Ye want me to go to Whitehall Palace,” she said. The very tip of her tongue came out from between her lips as if her mouth had gone dry. “In England. The English court in London.” Since her gaze hadn’t left him, he answered for his sister.

“With me,” he said, unsure if that would make the plan more appealing to her since she avoided him. Although, hadn’t he been doing the same?

“With ye?” she asked, her voice softer. He gave a single nod even though she must have read the suggestion in the queen’s letter.

Scarlet came forward to squeeze her arm. “It sounds like the queen is desperate for help. As much as Grey would like you to remain to care for Evelyn, you have the most knowledge to help the king. You are also my strongest, most lethal Rose, Cat. I have no doubt you can take care of yourself.”

“If she does not want to go, I will not force her,” Grey said, though Nathaniel doubted anyone could force Cat Campbell to do anything she didn’t want to do.

“I will be fine, Grey,” Evelyn said to her husband. “The baby is not due for two months, and Jacqueline seems to know quite a bit about healing. She has been working with Cat since she came to the school.”

“And Izzy will certainly continue to stay with us,” Scarlet said. “So there is no need to worry about your sister.”

Cat’s gaze slid past Nathaniel toward the wall, as if she were working out all the details in her mind. “I have no court costumes or manners,” she said.

Evelyn came forward. “I will write a letter introducing you to Jane Pickney, our exceedingly competent housekeeper at Hollings Estate.” She smiled encouragingly. “She practically raised the three of us and will round up a team of seamstresses when you arrive to update some of our court gowns. She will also equip you with…” Evelyn hesitated. “Well, help you prepare for attending court. Although Queen Catherine will likely let everyone know that you are an invited guest of hers and therefore above reproach. But it does not hurt to be somewhat prepared.”

“Prepared?” Cat replied, her voice numb.

The woman needed to know what she was getting into, and Nathaniel had never seen her turn away from danger. His sisters were being too kind. Cat needed to see the task as the challenge it was. “Court is a pit of vipers,” he said.

“Nathaniel,” Evelyn warned, her tone terse, but he continued over her.

“Only the bravest Scot would traipse into the very heart of England.” He shrugged as Cat’s gaze searched his face. “The queen needs a trained Rose who cares not what the snobbish elite might think, but who parades in front of them with the queen to show them how the king must be treated to improve. Someone who could also discover poison if it has been given to him.” He held her gaze. “Cat.” He let her name roll slowly from his mouth. Had he ever called her name while within arm’s reach? He cleared his throat. “Can you think of anyone else to go but you?”

Dirt smudged one of her cheeks, blending against the multitude of brown freckles that covered every inch of her exposed skin. They were like stars in a clear night sky. Did they extend underneath her clothing?

She breathed, her breasts rising up with a full inhale. He watched her lips pinch together, their pinkness still speckled like her skin. “Nay,” she said. “I am the only Rose to go.”

As if her words were magic to break those in the room from an enchanted spell, they all began to rush around while he and Cat stood still.

“I will tell Izzy,” Alana said, running off, followed by the pack of wolfhounds that accompanied her everywhere.

“You can use the satchel I brought from Hollings,” Scarlet said and stepped in to give her a quick hug before striding toward the stairs.

Evelyn looked at Grey. “She is going. I will be fine. And you now must go find her a horse to ride.” He cursed under his breath and strode toward the entryway. Evelyn smiled at Cat. “I will gather some basic medicinal herbs and ask Molly to put together a hamper of food for the start of your trip. You will have to acquire provisions along the way, for which Nathaniel will pay. Jane Pitney will see you completely outfitted before you travel on to London.”

Cat’s face turned side to side, watching people disperse, until finally her gaze settled back on Nathaniel as the only remaining source of information. “We are leaving now?”

He gave a nod.

“But I haven’t even had roast boar.”

“It will take us over a week to travel to Hollings Estate in Lincoln,” Nathaniel said. “Several days to see you equipped for court and then another four to five days to ride to London. If the king became ill over a week ago, we need to get there as fast as possible.”

She let out a huff of breath and planted hands on her hips. “Well, I am at least using the privy first and washing my hands.” Turning away, she glanced at him over her shoulder. “I also need to collect my sgian dubh, daggers, and more arrows.”

Nathaniel watched her walk, the form-fitting leather trousers accenting the perfect heart-shaped curves of her arse. He should look away, but the natural sway in her stride was like a charmer’s spell. She rounded the corner, and he ran one hand down his face. His lips twitched upward into a grin. The woman didn’t demand to change, or inspect her satchels, or dither over what hat to wear on the journey. Cat Campbell was the strangest, wildest, most unpredictable woman he’d ever known.

…

Bloody sarding hell.

She was going to England. And not just England but to the royal palace in London.

Cat rummaged in her bag where it sat on the table in the great hall. Her knuckles brushed against her two extra blades, sheathed and accessible, and she clutched one. Just the familiar feel of the leather-wrapped handles calmed her nerves. Straightening, she adjusted her leather jacket and pulled the satchel closed.

“You should wear another layer,” Evelyn said, walking in from the back hall that led to the kitchens. She handed Cat a thick cape. “To keep the wind off you at night. And Molly packed enough food and drink for the next few days.”

Cat took the cape. “Thank ye,” she murmured as they walked through the entryway and out the front doors.

Evelyn’s hand stopped her at the top of the steps into the bailey. “No, thank you, Cat,” she said, meeting her gaze. “It must feel like you are riding into the lion’s den.” Cat didn’t say anything, and Evelyn smiled as if the gesture could hide the worry on her face. “But my brother will get you safely there and back, I promise you. And Jane will make sure you know what to expect at court. Remember though, ladies fight with words at court, not blades. Behave with cold decorum.”

“I need to talk to Izzy,” Cat said, glancing around. She must explain to her sister that she would only be gone for a month, that she would never abandon her.

“Of course. We would not send you off without a farewell.”

Cat glanced outward, easily finding the tall figure of Nathaniel where he stood by two horses, one was his large bay horse and the other was a tall black horse. Good God! Was she expected to ride it?

Evelyn and she stepped together across the bailey. “So…” Cat started, her voice low. “How exactly does one ride a horse?”

Evelyn’s slipper caught, and she hesitated. “You… You have never ridden a horse?” she asked in her aristocratic voice. Shock mixed with a bit of pity and elitism.

Irritation kicked up inside Cat. “Even though Sassenachs, born on an estate in England, are raised in the saddle, we country lasses were raised trying to find food. We hadn’t the riches for horses.”

“Certainly,” Evelyn responded quickly, her cheeks growing red. “I meant no offense.”

“Perhaps ye should add horse riding to your Highland Roses School curriculum,” Cat suggested. She stared hard at Evelyn. “Starting right now.” The words came soft but insistent. Everything had happened so quickly that Cat hadn’t had time to worry about how she would get to London, and now she’d be riding a beast next to Nathaniel Worthington, likely the best horseman she’d ever witnessed.

“Yes, yes, of course,” Evelyn said, seeming to shake off her embarrassment. She lowered her voice. “Have you ever sat upon a horse?”

“For a score of minutes on the way to save Scarlet, Jacqueline, and the queen a month ago. Only then.”

Evelyn nodded, releasing a breath. “We will tell Nathaniel. He is an excellent rider and will—”

“Nay,” Cat said, catching her arm. “Do not tell him,” she said through clenched teeth. If his sister had been shocked by her ignorance, what would he think of her? “He will ride slower then, and we must get to London quickly. I am strong and will hold on.”

Evelyn opened her mouth but then closed it. “He is likely to figure it out, but alright. Come meet this fleet mare. Her name is Stella, which means star.”

Cat walked closer to the magnificent animal. The horse was completely black, including her tail and mane. The only color on her sleek coat was a white blaze on her nose, which did indeed look like a star. Her dark eyes seemed to judge Cat, sizing up the woman who would be clinging to her back for dear life for the next fortnight. “Is she…hard to control?” she whispered to Evelyn.

Evelyn squeezed her hand. “There is a wildness in her, but she is kind at heart. I brought her from England with me, and she rode swift and smooth. I think the two of you will learn to understand each other quite well. Just try not to be afraid of her. They can sense fear.”

Tremors of dread tried to spread up Cat’s body, but she breathed past them. “Of course, I am not afraid,” she said, a sneer masking the slight quake in her voice. The horse raised one hoof and scratched the ground before her, her large shining eyes still on Cat. Hell, there’d be no fooling the beast. Nonetheless, she would attempt to fool Nathaniel, for she wouldn’t put up with pity from him.

“Let her smell your hand,” Evelyn whispered, and Cat lifted her palm toward the horse’s mouth. Didn’t they have large teeth? It could judge her poorly and bite off her fingers. She tried to steady her hand, but it shook.

Warm breath touched Cat’s bare fingers, Stella’s nostrils flaring. “Then gently, slowly press your open palm to her nose,” Evelyn said. Cat followed her instructions, and the horse let her touch her.

Swallowing down some of the initial worry of having to mount such a large creature, Cat leaned in slightly. “Ye and I can ride gently together. No wildness. Agreed?” The horse’s ears flicked as if she sought to decipher her words. She reached higher and slid her palm down the mare’s warm nose.

“We should go,” Nathaniel said behind her. “Get some distance before we stop for the night.” She continued to stroke Stella, not wanting to turn to the man who made her heart pound even harder.

Evelyn waved Izzy and Scarlet over. “You will stop at some of the inns and cabins that we used on our way south last time?” Evelyn asked Nathaniel.

“Yes, but I have gear for sleeping out, too.”

Cat hugged Scarlet and then pulled Izzy to her. “Keep with Evelyn and Scarlet,” she said and knelt before her young sister. She caught Izzy’s face in her hands. “I am not leaving ye,” she whispered. “I will return, probably two fortnights or a bit longer.”

There was a slight sheen to Izzy’s eyes, but she nodded. Something might happen to you. Izzy used her fingers to make signs, her way of communicating since she had stopped speaking two years ago when their mother died. Cat had hoped that words would come again soon since Izzy had screamed in warning a month ago during the queen’s rescue. But so far, she remained silent.

“Only God could keep me from ye,” Cat replied.

God kept Da from returning, and God took Ma.

The familiar tension made Cat’s head ache, and she shook it slowly. “Da was always leaving, warring with someone.” She released a small huff. “And God did not take Ma. I am nothing like Ma.”

Farewell hugs hurt the heart, making her chest squeeze and pressure threaten tears behind her eyes, so she avoided them. But she couldn’t walk away from her little sister without a proper goodbye. Just in case. Cat pulled Izzy into another hug for long seconds until her younger sister dropped her arms, ready to let go.

Izzy pointed to Stella. You are going to ride a horse? she signed.

Rolling her eyes heavenward, Cat nodded. A tentative smile curved Izzy’s lips, and her brows rose high. Cat took a big breath. “I can do it.”

Spreading her hands wide, Izzy stretched her arms up and out. “Aye, I know it is large,” Cat said and snorted. “But when have I ever taken the easy way?”

Izzy made gripping motions with her hands, telling her to hold on tight. “I will,” she answered, hugging her little sister once more. “And I will be home as soon as I can.”

She turned toward the horses where Evelyn stood talking to Nathaniel. His hair curled out slightly around his ears. He wore a brimmed leather hat without decoration for travel. A gray cloak sat about his shoulders, and he wore the same trousers and tall boots that he’d worn when he found her that morning.

Evelyn bent toward him, whispering. Was she telling him that Cat was inept, an ignorant country girl too poor to ever ride a horse? Cat gave Izzy a confident smile and strode toward them.

Evelyn’s gloved hand flipped around in the air as she spoke rapidly. Cat approached from behind, and Nathaniel’s gaze rose to meet her. “Do not let her kill her,” Evelyn said.

Was she worried the horse would kill her? Cat’s mouth dropped open.

“Do not let Jane kill Cat or Cat kill Jane?” Nathaniel asked, a grin turning up his lips as he stared over his sister.

“Neither of them,” Evelyn said, turning to follow Nathaniel’s gaze to Cat. She plastered on another full smile. “Farewells said?” she asked.

Cat’s brows furrowed. “Aye.” The word came out short. So, Jane Pitney could be difficult. But even the warrior queen, Boudica, herself, running at Cat with her spear, wasn’t as frightening as the horse assessing her from the side. She took a deep breath and gazed at Evelyn. “In case…if something were to happen to me, ye must take care of Izzy.”

“I will not let anything happen to you,” Nathaniel said, his face growing dark with a frown.

Cat ignored him. “Promise me, ye will never leave her. That ye will love her like a daughter if I do not return.”

“Again,” Nathaniel said, “I will not let anything—”

“Things happen,” she said, turning toward him with narrowed eyes. “People fall and hit their heads.” She lowered her voice. “They catch an illness or musket fire, and they never return.” She turned back to Evelyn. “I would have your promise.”

“Of course,” Evelyn said, squeezing Cat’s hands. “Izzy is one of our students, but she has become much more. Grey and I will keep and love her like one of our own children if anything terrible was to happen.”

Cat nodded. “Thank ye.” She inhaled deeply. “Let us ride.” She turned and…damnation, the horse was watching her.

Evelyn walked with her to Stella. “Left foot in the stirrup and swing your right leg over,” she said softly. “Keep your heels down in the stirrups and try to rise up slightly with each step to save your bum when the horse trots. Hold the reins with a light touch. Pull back on them when you need Stella to slow down or stop. Press in with your heels when you want her to go faster or click your tongue to start her off.”

“Save my bum?” Cat asked, imitating Evelyn’s English accent as she ran her hand down the horse’s sleek neck.

“You use different muscles when riding. You are bound to be sore for the first few days.”

“Lovely,” Cat murmured.

“Climb up by grabbing high on the saddle,” Evelyn said and moved around to the front of Stella, talking softly to the horse as if calming her, too. As much as Evelyn’s Sassenach accent and manners irritated Cat, her tone and cadence were soothing. Hopefully it was the same to the beast.

She grabbed hold of the saddle and raised her knee to step into the stirrup but couldn’t quite reach it. “Here,” came a voice beside her. Nathaniel’s deep timber sent lightning through her. “Set your…left foot in my hand, and I will help you up.”

A flush of heat suffused Cat’s face and neck, and she planted her right foot back on the ground. If she had managed to reach the stirrup and raised up, she would have seated the horse backwards for everyone in the bailey to witness. Looking down at his intertwined fingers, Cat stepped her left foot into Nathaniel’s hands. With no effort, he lifted her, and she straightened upward, circling her leg over the horse to seat herself. Och. Must the beast be so bloody tall? She was used to climbing in trees, which were much taller, but a tree couldn’t buck her off or swing its massive head around to bite her leg.

Her fingers wrapped around the saddle horn, and she looked out over the horse’s head. Stella’s ears flicked, and Cat forced herself to breathe. I am strong. I am capable. She repeated the words that Scarlet had taught all the Highland Rose ladies to say to give them strength and courage. Scarlet called them affirmations. Whatever they were, they were Cat’s only weapons against the wild thumping of her heart that was starting to make her lips tingle.

Nathaniel remained next to her leg. He clasped her short boot and pushed her heel down. “Just checking your stirrups,” he said, stepping around to the other side. “Keep your heels low to steady you.” He picked up the leather reins to hand to her, and she realized she was still clutching the pommel of the saddle.

“Aye, thank ye,” she murmured. He had to know she was a novice now.

“Cat,” Nathaniel said, and she slowly met his gaze, but there were no questions or signs of amusement on his face. “We will journey safely. You can relax a bit.”

She nodded stiffly, raising her shoulders to her ears to rotate backward. “I am relaxed.”

He smiled, the brim of his hat blocking the midday sun from his eyes. They were kind eyes. Blue. She remembered staring into them when he was feverish from gunshot, when she hadn’t left his side for days. Did he remember that?

His palm touched her calf in the leather trousers. The warmth of his hand made her muscles tighten, and she breathed deeply to slow her heartbeat when he walked away. Leaning forward, she patted Stella’s long, black neck. “Ye are a beauty,” she said. Stella’s ears flicked. The mare snorted and shifted her weight, making Cat cling tightly with her thighs. Aye, this was a different exercise from running.

Ahead, Nathaniel swung easily up and into the saddle on Gaspar, his bay with the shining brown coat. Even in winter, these horses didn’t grow shaggy like the ponies that roamed the hillsides. He raised his hand, a signal perhaps, and clicked to make Gaspar start forward. Stella waited.

Evelyn tapped a finger against her mouth and nodded. Cat cleared her throat, opened her lips and clicked. Stella stepped forward quickly as if to catch up to Gaspar, pushing Cat back in the saddle before she straightened.

“Godspeed,” Alana called, followed by several others yelling the same. Izzy waved and ran alongside Stella until they rode under the raised portcullis. As Nathaniel and Gaspar picked up speed into a slow run, Cat let Stella do the same. The jarring reminded her of Evelyn’s advice, and she tried to lift up with each hitch. For several steps, she failed miserably, the saddle slamming into the crux of her legs with the wrong cadence. She adjusted, rising in time with the horse’s gait. Better. She needed practice and would surely get plenty on the journey.

She followed Nathaniel down the road, past Kirstin’s cottage, where she waved, past Craig’s smithy where his apprentice, Eagan, pumped the billows, and finally down the road past her family’s old cottage. Her gaze slid to the roof where the thatching sank down over the pocked walls and the windows stared blankly out like vacant eyes. She didn’t like to look at it. It reminded her of the sadness that had always permeated it and how even more had descended like a plague when her father had been killed. Her mother was never the same and had followed him to the grave within three years, leaving Cat and her young sister alone.

Cat’s attention snapped back as Stella shook her mane. Maybe she was ready to run. After all, the horse had traveled this route before, where Cat had never gone more than a couple leagues from Killin her entire life. The idea of visiting other villages, towns, and London was both exciting and worrisome. “Lord keep me,” she prayed softly.

Nathaniel glanced at her over his shoulder. “You do not strike me as a woman who prefers to ride behind a man.”

“Ye know the way,” she called but pressed gently into Stella’s sides. With a surge of speed, the mare found a smooth rhythm, bringing her up quickly next to Gaspar. When the horse slowed back to a trot, she was jounced again until she started to rise and fall with her steps.

“How do you like Stella?” Nathaniel asked.

“She is beautiful and seems like she wants to run.”

He chuckled. “’Twas why I thought she would be perfect for you.” He looked ahead. “When we break from these trees, there are some flatter spaces. We can let our mounts stretch and fly a bit.”

Cat wasn’t sure if she was ready for flying, but Nathaniel’s calm smile made it seem like all would be well. “Ye know Stella then.”

“I helped birth her down at Hollings,” he said. “Her parents are quite noble. Her father being the fastest stallion outside Spain.” He looked toward Stella’s face. “I thought she was getting bored cooped up at Finlarig, and Evie agreed that the journey will benefit her.”

They rode for several long minutes before Nathaniel pointed ahead where a clearing signaled a flat meadow that would likely be covered with bowing cornflowers in the spring. Now snow covered it.

“Not too fast,” Nathaniel called. “’Tis slippery.” Gaspar leaped forward as Nathaniel leaned toward his neck. “And hold on.”

Stella whinnied, working against the bit in her mouth. “Very well,” Cat said on an exhale. “But it is up to ye to keep us safe,” she whispered. Gently she pressed her heels into the horse’s flanks and leaned forward. Stella leaped, her head high as she yanked the bit. Quickly, Cat let up on the reins, giving the horse more freedom. The mare shot forward, her legs stretching out as if they could eat away the miles under her. She leaned low over her neck, one hand on the reins while the other clutched the pommel. Her thighs gripped around the horse’s middle while they flew, her hair streaming out behind her. How could she ever have felt like she was flying before while running with her own human feet?

“Bloody hell,” she yelled, her eyes wide. She laughed, the wind catching her hair, the crisp chill of winter filling her inhales. Holding tightly, she tried to enjoy the roll of the horse’s gait, the smoothness of it despite the terrain. Stella caught up quickly to Gaspar, riding alongside him as if he were a guide, which was perfectly fine with Cat. The more the horse did on her own, the less she had to worry about.

For several hours, they rode along wooded roads and then across frosted moors, climbing hills and walking down into winter-bare valleys, though mostly they stayed to the main road. The sun began to set, making the stark trees look like black skeletons against the sky. A wooden signpost denoted the edge of a town ahead.

“We will take shelter in Stirling tonight,” Nathaniel said. “I know an inn.”

All Cat could do was nod. They’d been riding all day, and she was exhausted. So much so that if Stella decided to throw her now, she’d have very little energy to keep her seat.

Breaking off the pebbled road, Cat followed Nathaniel onto a cobblestone street where merchants were covering their wagons at the end of the day. Several looked up at them as they passed. Perhaps they hadn’t seen a lass in trousers before, though she had wrapped the wool cloak around herself and pulled the hood up to keep the warmth in and her wild locks contained.

Small, stone cottages lined the narrow streets, some of them two and three stories tall. She’d never seen a city before, and her nose wrinkled as the smell of sewage assailed her. Yet people laughed and walked along, chatting and pushing their carts. Perhaps they didn’t know how sweet the countryside smelled, the press of humanity being all they knew.

Their horses’ hooves clopped along the stone, sounding hollow in the aging twilight. Nathaniel led them around a corner to a building with several horses tied out front. A sign showing a bed hung high above the door. “There is at least one bed open for the sign to still be hanging,” Nathaniel said and gracefully dismounted to tie the reins around a post. He stretched his broad shoulders and back. “I will secure it inside.” He seemed to wait.

“Go on,” she said. “I will…be along.” As soon as she figured out how to get off the horse. Her body ached, her legs quite numb from gripping all day. She watched him walk into the lit common room, the sound of rough laughter rolling out.

Glancing around, she saw no one of interest and leaned forward to swing her leg over. She stifled a groan. Sliding along Stella’s side, Cat tried to propel herself outward, jumping down to the cobblestone.

Her legs completely abandoned her, and she yelped as her backside slammed onto the wet cobblestone.