Chapter 4

D o those men ken who I am?" James asked as Ivor moved a pawn forward.

"The captain does; the others do not."

"Would an ordinary lad ask one o' them tae let him sit beside him as he rows, tae see how he does it?"

"He might ask, but I'd wager that the man he asked would tell him that he'd be in the way," Ivor said. "You may ask the captain

about that, though. Just mind how you speak and don't be giving him or his men any orders."

"I speak as I speak," James said, moving a pawn and then pulling it back.

"Aye, well, I've often regretted my speech but never my silence," Ivor said.

James eyed him thoughtfully. " That is Publius Syrus," he said.

Although Ivor was rapidly growing accustomed to the boy's adultlike conversation, the comment astonished him. "How do you

know that?"

James shrugged. "His grace, my father, told me. They do educate me, ye ken. I have learned most of the Roman maxims. As ye,

yourself, have said, I may be King one day. I wouldna want anyone tae think they had a dafty on the throne."

"I don't believe that anyone will think that about you," Ivor said dryly.

"I dinna think it either. But I dinna like pretending that I'm no m'self."

"I don't recall offering you a choice about that," Ivor said. "Your royal sire put me in command of this venture. That means

you must do as I bid you."

Pushing his lady forward to meet Ivor's pawn, James said without looking up, "I ken that fine. And I ken fine what ye said

ye'd do if I fail tae do as ye say. But I think ye ought tae address me as ‘sir' when we're privy with each other."

Exerting patience, Ivor said, "I disagree. We should behave in private as we do when others are about, because as Publius

Syrus also said, ‘Practice is the best of all instructors.' In other words, you, Mistress Henrietta, and Marsi will play your

roles better if you continually practice them."

"Aye, perhaps."

"Your king is in peril, lad."

James examined the board. "Ye're going tae win!"

"I think so, aye."

"But my father always lets me win. He warns me of my peril, but he also leaves me a way out if I can find it. I dinna think ye've done that."

"Nay, lad, and I won't do that. 'Tis better for you to learn to win on your own. This has been a fast game, so we can replay

it, and I will teach you some tactics and strategy to avoid the trap I set. That way, you will learn. Sithee, winning will

mean more to you if you do it on your own than if people let you win because you are a child or, later, because you are powerful and they want to win favor."

"Well, I dinna want tae play anymore now." Scowling, James stood up.

"Sit down, control your temper, and finish the game," Ivor said. "In any event, you must not leave here looking like that.

You will draw too much attention."

"This game is over," James said, catching the near edge of the board and tilting it to dump the pieces onto the table. Some

rolled to the floor.

As Ivor stood up and reached for him, the door opened and the lass entered.

Seeing them, she exclaimed, "Don't you dare put your hands on him!"

Marsi's gaze caught Jamie's. Noting his consternation and evident remorse, she knew that she had made a serious error.

Hawk still gripped Jamie by an arm and looked furious.

But he was not looking at Jamie. He was looking at her.

Hastily, she said, "I… I beg your pardon, sir. I do recall that ye said—"

"Be silent," he retorted. "What the devil do you mean by walking in here without warning as you just did? I told you to stay—"

She opened her mouth, remembered about interrupting, and shut it again.

"You do show some wisdom, at least," he said, clearly having followed her thinking. "What are you doing out of that cabin?"

"Hetty told me to leave, and Captain Wolf said to come here. He said ye'd told him that ye'd liefer other ships not see females aboard this one. So I came."

"Dinna be wroth with Marsi, sir," Jamie said quietly and as calmly as if Hawk were not still gripping his upper arm. "I'm

the one who was in the wrong, and I do apologize tae ye. I hope ye'll no wreak your vexation wi' me on Marsi."

Marsi held her breath as Hawk looked down into Jamie's sober face and said, "I accept your apology, James. But this is the

last time I will warn you. If I see any more of that behavior, you will not sit comfortably afterward. Do I make myself clear?"

"Completely, sir, aye," Jamie said.

"Then you may go and ask the captain your question about rowing. After," Hawk added sternly, "you have put away the chessmen

and the board."

Nodding, the boy hastily collected the pieces, including those that had fallen to the floor. After setting them in a wall

pocket with the board, he looked quizzically at Marsi, but Hawk said, "She will stay here. I want to talk to her."

Grimacing sympathetically, Jamie went out and shut the door behind him.

Marsi realized that she was holding her breath again and that she had likely given herself away by leaping to Jamie's defense.

She could not recall what, exactly, she had said or how she had said it.

"Why did Mistress Henrietta tell you to leave?" Hawk asked.

"She said I was fidgeting her. When I told her I didna ken what to do to make her more comfortable, she said she'd be more comfortable if I'd just go away. I—" She did not want to tell him any more. She could see that her words were having

no effect on the state of his temper.

"Tell me something, lass. How long have you served as the nursery maid?"

Faith, what demon was stirring him now?

Touching her ring, she said, "Why d'ye ask that, sir?"

"Never mind why. Just answer me."

"N-not long," she said, fearing that he would ask more pointed questions about her duties. For all she knew, he could list

them better than she could.

"I thought as much," he said. "Any maid who had served long in a nursery would know how to look after someone in such straits

as Mistress Henrietta's. Moreover, any experienced nursery maid would know better than to tell the captain of a ship to take

a pail to a sick passenger. So, how did you come to serve in the royal nursery? I should think that his grace, not to mention

Mistress Henrietta and James, would want someone more competent."

Irritation stirred within her that anyone, but especially Hawk, might think she was incompetent. But she tamped it down, knowing

that the most foolhardy thing she could do would be to let him stir her temper again.

"I… I expect that I must seem incompetent tae ye, sir. But, in troth, I do learn gey quick, and Mistress Henrietta does ken that fine."

Her brain was working at its normal pace now, and she remembered that she had decided to tell the truth when she could. "See

you, sir, I did serve the Queen afore she died and we three did all come from Perthshire. 'Tis why I call Mistress Henrietta

"Hetty," because her grace did. But I ken that I should not. Nor call Jamie that, either. He did say I should, after ye told

us that we must act as ordinary folks do, but…"

She fell silent, aware that she might have already said too much.

"I see," he said, still regarding her in that uncomfortable, measuring way.

She felt then as if she ought to say more. But she did not know what to say.

In any event, she was finding it harder to speak with any semblance of a dialect to Hawk. She found lying to him almost physically

painful, even by omission. Also, she still wanted to challenge him, to tell him that he had no right, royal commission or

none, to lay hands on any member of the royal family.

"How long did you serve the Queen?" he asked abruptly.

That question, too, caught her off her guard, and an unexpected surge of grief threw her off balance even more before she

said, "Un-until she died."

"As I recall, she was sick for several months beforehand. And she died at Scone Abbey. Surely, you did not attend her there."

"But I did, aye," she said. "T-to my s-sorrow, I did."

Her grief threatened to overcome her. Tears welled in her eyes, but she fought them back, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

"I thought that all of her ladies were noblewomen," he said.

She could hear Hetty's voice in the back of her mind, shrieking at her to tell him the truth. But logic said that if she did,

he would send her back to Turnberry.

She knew they had traveled up the Firth of Clyde, and there was no other way out of the firth. The ship would be turning back

from wherever it put them ashore.

Captain Wolf would therefore surely agree to take her back with him and would hand her over to whoever met them at the cavern jetty. The next thing she knew, Albany would have

her in his clutches and she would find herself married in a blink to the ancient and odious Lord Redmyre.

Desperately, she said, "Queen Annabella liked me, sir. She said I made her laugh, and so I did. I did other things for her and for her ladies, too. So they took me with

them when she went to Perth last summer to see her son, Davy, whilst he was staying there. Then she fell ill, and they moved

her to Scone Abbey so the monks could care for her. We stayed there until…" The rest of what she had meant to say caught in

her throat. She could not go on.

Oblivious to her emotions, he said, "Tell me then why you did not just sit quietly whilst Mistress Henrietta rested. Surely,

you might have managed to do that, as you must have done if you sat with the Queen whilst she was sick."

"I told you, just my being there fidgeted Hetty, and she told me to go away. And when I went outside, I told Captain Wolf what you had said about doing so. He said that I should come

here and should fear no danger from any man on his ship."

"Did he say that, in troth?" he said softly.

A prickle of alarm shot up her spine at the look in his eyes. But she met it boldly and said, "Aye, he did."

"He was wrong, and if you ever speak to me again as you did when you first came in here, I will show you just how wrong he

was. You are in my charge, lass. If you do not want to suffer the same consequences that James will face if he speaks so to

me, you would do better never to spit words at me as you did then."

"Would I?" The challenge leaped unbidden to her tongue.

"Aye, and you would likewise be wiser to obey me and not go anywhere on this ship alone," he said.

"Even here, with you, who are charged with my safety?" she murmured.

His gaze locked with hers. "Especially here, alone, with me."

Her lips parted, and an image leaped to her mind of herself in his bed and him touching her, lifting her shift, stroking her

bare thigh. Nervously, but with a delicious sense of daring, she continued to look into his eyes, silently.

Faith, but she was flirting with him! She could feel the strength of the attraction between them as easily as she could sense

his anger.

He caught her by the shoulders, muttering, "If you want a lesson, lass, I'll teach you one." Pulling her close, he kissed

her hard.

She did not resist, because her body leaped so fast in its response to him that it startled her. She could feel the heat of

his hands through the sleeves of her kirtle, the warmth of his mouth on hers. But there were other sensations, too, familiar

and unfamiliar. The strongest flowed from deep inside her, new and delightful.

She could not recall ever feeling such physical awareness of any man.

The pressure of his lips eased. But to her astonishment, his tongue pressed against her lips as if it would part them and

plunge inside.

Just then, she heard a sound at the door, and he released her, stepping hastily away just as the door opened and Captain Wolf

looked in.

Marsi fought to keep her composure, taking care not to look at Hawk.

Wolf said without any sign that he saw aught amiss, "The wind is picking up, Hawk, and shifting to hit us from the west. I'm

thinking that Mistress Henrietta may soon need the lass again."

As he spoke, the ship rolled so that Marsi reached out to the nearby wall.

Hawk merely shifted one foot to keep his balance.

"You seem to have found your sea legs," Wolf said to him.

"I'll do," Hawk said. "Come along, lass. I'll see you to the aft cabin."

She could still feel the sensation of his lips on hers and felt again the touch of his hand on her inner thigh the previous

night. Her body was unnaturally aware of him. It seemed astonishing to her that the man could not tell just by being near

her that she had been the girl in his bed.

Not that she wanted him to know that, ever!

As Ivor followed her outside and along the gangway, he kept a hand ready to catch her if she missed her step. As they went,

he mentally took himself to task for his behavior in the forward cabin. What had he been thinking?

The urge to kiss her had overwhelmed him. But what a thing to do!

She was in his charge, so he deserved smacking as much as she or the lad had.

Wolf would surely have something to say about it. The man was neither blind nor stupid. Nor had he ever hesitated to speak

his mind. And he had surely noted her blushes if not Ivor's own guilty reaction to his untimely entrance.

To be sure, the minx deserved the lesson. She had flirted with him now and again since she'd opened the nursery door to him

that morning. But that was no excuse for his behavior. She had also flirted with Wolf, with the chap who'd helped her aboard,

and with the helmsman. If one of them had dared take such advantage…

Mayhap she was just friendly. But something about her had stirred his interest from their first meeting. Then Wolf had described

her as a cozy armful, and the next thing Ivor knew, she was deliberately challenging him .

He had paid more heed to her manner of speech since Wolf had commented on it, too. And he could easily discern what Wolf had

meant. But if she had aped the Queen's speech and that of her noble companions, would that not be enough to…?

He nearly shook his head at the half-formed thought. When she had entered just as he was about to give James a well-deserved

rebuke or worse for upsetting the chessboard, she had looked more like an avenging fury than a maidservant.

She had spoken to him curtly then— and as an equal.

When he had met her in the royal nursery, he had wondered briefly if she might be the lass who had come to his bed the night

before. However, that girl had had magnificent long red hair of so rich a color that surely her eyebrows must be the same

shade. Marsi's eyebrows and lashes were so dark as to be almost black. And her cap did not seem large enough to contain so

much hair.

Had she been that woman in his bed, she would doubtless be constantly and acutely aware of the fact, to her more notable discomfiture, whenever she saw him.

She was much too calm in his presence to have been that lass.

Also, he had seen a second pallet near the nursery hearth, suggesting that the nursery's maidservant customarily slept there.

As for her flirtation, it seemed friendly rather than intentionally alluring. She reminded him of his sister, Catriona, when

she flirted with cousins at clan gatherings, something that Cat had done impulsively, too, before wedding Fin Cameron.

In any event, the lass in his bed was not one he was likely to meet again. Nor was there anything particularly memorable about

her that he could recall, other than her long legs, lush hair, and the way she had seemed to change from a fantasy to a real

woman while he made love to her. He also remembered the silken nature of her skin. Otherwise, she was no more than a figment

of a very odd dream.

Were it not for the bruise on his cheek and two bruised fingers that, from time to time, still reminded him of her, he would

not spare her another thought.

The young woman twitching her hips ahead of him as she hurried along the gangway was another matter. He was sure that she

had lied to him. He had recognized certain signs that told him so, but he could not be sure which of her comments had been

lies and which were true.

When he did catch her in a lie, as he would if she continued the practice, she would quickly learn the danger of lying to

him.

She picked up her skirts to step down off the gangway, then went straight to the aft cabin and entered it. Before she could shut the door, Ivor put a hand out to stop it and said, "Is Mistress Henrietta awake?"

"I am, sir, aye," the woman called from inside. "I hope our Marsi has no been a trial to you, nor James either."

Despite the track that his thoughts had taken as he'd followed Marsi along the gangway, he had seen James sitting on a bench

between two large oarsmen, holding their oar when he could reach it and bending forward and back as the men did. Knowing that

the boy was content, Ivor said confidently as he entered the cabin, "You need not concern yourself, mistress. I'm glad to

hear you sounding better."

"I am feeling better, too, sir. But the way this boat be rolling about, I think I should stay where I am if I may."

"Aye, sure. They have shifted the sail to take advantage of the increasing wind. Unless it shifts again, I expect we'll make

landfall in good time. Also, when we turn eastward, we'll have the wind behind us, so the ship will not roll so much."

"May we know where we are to make landfall, sir?" she asked.

He nodded. " 'Tis a clachan called Milton, not far from Dumbarton Castle."

"I ken Milton well," Mistress Henrietta said. "See you, sir, I was raised near the town of Drymen. I expect we'll be traveling

through there, will we not?"

He eyed her searchingly. "Why do you say that?"

She smiled. "Good lack, sir, if you were meaning to go east, we'd land at Glasgow and take the Stirling road. If ye'd meant

to travel to the upper glens, which to my mind would be unreasonable with winter still upon us, we'd make landfall west of

the river Leven. As it is, we'll likely go through the Vale of Leven to the south end of Loch Lomond, northeast to Drymen, Doune, and eastward."

"So you know where we are headed, do you?"

"I believe so," she said. "I suspected it when his grace told me to pack James's things. See you, I ken fine that her grace

expressed fear for his safety, and I know who else was present. Mayhap I shouldna say…"

Hearing a soft gasp, he glanced at the lass and saw that her lips had parted. She was staring at Mistress Henrietta as if

she would control the woman's thoughts.

Ivor said, "We need not mention names, Mistress Henrietta. We must discuss how we will travel, but I'd liefer we not name

our destination or openly discuss our route. My lads will take at least a day or two to catch up with us, because they must

rest the horses. I was thinking that you might pose as James's aunt. We could say that the lass here is your maidservant and

that I am escorting you to visit kinsmen."

Mistress Henrietta looked thoughtful, and the lass had collected herself.

But Ivor had already decided that, much as he wanted to know what game the lass was playing, to demand answers from her while

they were aboard the galley would be a mistake. Such a scene was not one to play for a shipload of oarsmen.

Had she represented a threat to James, he might have acted. But as protective of the lad as she was, he doubted that she posed

any danger to him.

Turnberry

Albany was furious. Having discovered that no one seemed to know where the lady Marsaili Drummond Cargill was, he had likewise learned that the Queen's other ladies had returned to their homes or had taken service with one or another

of his numerous royal siblings. Everyone agreed that the lady Marsaili still resided at Turnberry, but no one could produce

her.

Confronted, the King denied knowledge of her whereabouts. "Sakes, but she must be here," he declared, frowning. "I dinna ken

where else she could be. She has nae family here, nor any friends save our Jamie."

"Might she have gone with him?"

"She lacked my permission to go. And nae one would take a royal ward from Turnberry without my leave, Robbie. Likely, she

is avoiding ye and will turn up when ye leave. 'Tis is a big place. But as ye're here, mayhap ye'll explain why ye want me

to summon Parliament. 'Tis Davy's right to do that now."

"Davy's three-year provisional term as Governor of the Realm ended on the first of January," Albany said. "It was by your

own command that, after he had held the office for that period, the lords of Parliament would decide if his rule should continue.

Even you must admit that he has ruled poorly."

"The people love him, Robbie, and he is young yet. He will learn."

"Scotland cannot afford his lessons," Albany retorted. "Almost the first thing he did was agree to marry the Earl of March's

daughter. Less than a month later, he accepted a larger dowry from the Earl of Douglas to marry Douglas's daughter instead,

thus making a blood enemy of March. Then—"

The King made a gesture of protest, but Albany ignored it, saying, "Then, Douglas died. Since then Davy has ignored his marriage vows and treated his wife so badly that her brother, the new Earl of Douglas, has become another powerful blood enemy. I can provide a detailed list of Davy's many illicit liaisons with women other than his wife, if you want one," Albany added. "You cannot be proud of a son from whom

no woman, be she maid or married, is safe."

"Davy saved Edinburgh Castle last year from the English," the King said.

"Aye, sure, the lad is a fine warrior but reckless. He may win the day, but he will lose half of his men in the doing. In

most cases, diplomacy might have prevented the conflict. But Davy revels in conflict. He is rarely sober, he carries on like

a bed-hopping satyr, and he urgently needs bringing to heel. If you wait for him to convene Parliament, you will wait in vain, because he kens the risk he runs if he does. Sign the summons I made out for

you, sir. If Davy truly wants to learn how to rule Scotland, he can watch and learn from me."

"First the lords of Parliament must agree," the King said.

"They will agree when you suggest it, as you will unless you can name anyone else who would be as capable of ruling this country

as I am."

"Ye ken fine that there be nae such man. But few lords of Parliament love ye, Robbie." The King sighed. " 'Tis true that they

have little love for Davy either. Aye, then, I will summon them. However, as to this other, regarding our Marsi, I—"

"The lady Marsaili is to marry Martin Lindsay of Redmyre," Albany said with chilly patience. "You have agreed to that, I believe.

These documents merely set out the marriage settlements that I have negotiated with Redmyre."

"Aye, sure, but sithee, I promised Annabella that I'd no force the lass to marry where she does no want to marry, and Redmyre

is much older than she is. Sakes, but he is older than I knew him to be. And Marsi has said—"

"Marsaili will do as she is bid, just as any noble maiden must do."

"I fear that the lassie has a mind of her own, Robbie. But I'll think on the matter and give ye my answer when we find her,"

the King said.

With that, for the moment, Albany had to be satisfied. He had achieved his primary goal—that of summoning Parliament—so he

was pleased.

Even so, for putting him to such trouble, he promised himself a few warm minutes with the lady Marsaili when he laid hands

on her, as he soon would.

His men were questioning everyone in the castle.