Chapter 10

In her years as an Angel, Brigit had been in some uncomfortable spots. Literally.

There was the time she'd infiltrated a castle via the garderobe. The time she'd hidden from pursuit among the offal, and the time—truly horrible—she'd posed as a leper.

Aye, all things considered, hiding behind a tapestry in the palace chapel on a cool evening wasn't the least comfortable spot she'd be in. Wasn't even in the top fifteen.

So why was her stomach in such knots?

She knew: ‘twas Drummond. She was worried about him, and that had naught to do with her physical location.

To be fair, things could be worse. Brigit would've been crouched here behind the tapestry—knees locking, thighs aching—had Her Majesty not insisted on a bit of comfort. Queens could insist on that sort of thing, Brigit assumed.

She glanced to her left and her lips twitched at the sight of the Queen of Scotland sitting—back straight, hands folded in her lap, eyes locked on the back side of the tapestry hanging between them and the action—in the chair Brigit had dragged to this alcove. The moonlight coming in from the window behind them allowed her to see the other woman's expressions and gestures, so they could communicate in silence.

When Brigit and Drum had hatched this plan, they'd realized it would be vital to have a reliable witness to whatever would happen. If Avaline really was the culprit, and really was doing it for the reasons they suspected, ‘twould be her word against Brigit's. So…Brigit suggested the Queen.

Surprisingly, the Queen was enthusiastic. Brigit didn't tell her their suspicions of the assassin's identity or motives, but the other woman seemed excited to be a part of the trap. She did, however, insist on comfort—the prerogative of royalty, presumably.

So, Brigit had set up this little alcove while the rest of the court dined. She'd dragged a pair of chairs up against the window niche, then pulled the tapestry over it so from the chapel itself it appeared to be an unbroken wall, its secrets hidden. She'd escorted the Queen here before the rendezvous.

Drum had been the one to point out that if he were setting a trap for midnight, he'd arrive an hour before. So, Brigit and the Queen needed to be in place two hours before. Brigit could confess she'd napped for a bit, and hoped her snores were as genteel as the Queen's.

But now they were both wide awake and listening to the drama taking place on the other side of the tapestry.

Oh, how Brigit wished she could see what was happening. Her fingers itched to reach for her daggers, to hold them at the ready.

Could ye really throw them at Avaline? After all the missions ye've completed together ?

Brigit swallowed, pressing the heels of her palms against her stomach.

Aye, to save Drummond . She could. She would .

And ‘twas sounding as if she might have to.

Avaline had just admitted she was the person who'd not only set the crossbow ambush, but poured the potion into the King's wine. " ‘Twas perfectly simple," she was now saying, "to use my connection with the Queen to suggest ye , as the King's Hunter, were the only real suspect."

Brigit's panicked wide-eyed stare landed on the Queen, but the other woman took her hand and squeezed. Brigit held the Queen's gaze as they listened, forcing her breathing to slow to match the monarch's. The Queen was helping her, without words, to calm herself, to focus on what could be done, and Brigit was grateful.

At least Her Majesty heard Avaline's confession and heard her plans to pin the whole thing on Drummond. At least she knew he was innocent in all things.

Thank the Virgin.

Suddenly the Queen straightened, nostrils flaring and eyes widening, and Brigit heard what her monarch had heard.

Avaline growling, "Then I'll kill ye here and now, and tell him I discovered yer plot to assassinate him in his bed!"

Brigit was already standing when the Queen's grip tugged her back down to her chair. She reached for her daggers, but the other woman stood instead, and moved her hands to Brigit's shoulders, holding her down.

The Queen dropped her lips to Brigit's ear and breathed, "Trust Drummond. He can handle himself."

Could he ?

Could he ?

Brigit's heart beat frantically, and she was desperate to be out there, protecting the man she loved.

Because there was no use denying it; she loved Drummond Kennedy and she wanted— needed —to protect him. She wanted to fight beside him, to be his equal. And she prayed she'd have the chance to tell him that.

Avaline! All these years, ye kenned she was devious and cunning, but to do something like this?

"Why did ye choose me to pin the blame on," Drummond was asking the bitch, and Brigit willed her pulse to calm so she could hear the response over the pounding in her ears.

Unfortunately, their voices dropped, and Brigit felt herself leaning forward, straining to hear the answer, despite the Queen's attempt to hold her down.

It wasn't until Drummond blurted, "Rebecca ?" that she understood.

Sucking in a gasp, Brigit bounded to her feet, not even caring if she accidentally gave away their hiding spot. She darted forward, dodging the Queen's grasp, and reached for the tapestry.

Some semblance of control stopped her from revealing herself, thank the Saints. As the Queen's fingers wrapped through the back of her bodice, trying to hold her in place, Brigit settled her cheek against the stone wall and used one eye to peer from their hiding spot at the drama before the altar.

"Rebecca," Drummond repeated, his tone and his expression showing his shock. "'Tis really ye? "

"I am hurt," Avaline pouted, running her palms down the front of her cloaked gown. "And a little surprised. All these years together at court, and ye didnae recognize me?"

Why would he ? Drum was a Hunter and Avaline a lady-in-waiting. They had no cause to ever be in the same room.

Drum shook his head then lifted his hand to gesture vaguely at his face.

"Ye've…changed."

Something flashed in Avaline's eyes, something Brigit only recognized after years of working with her. Knowing her? Nay, tonight's revelations proved Brigit had never really known this partner of hers.

‘Twas something like rage, and something like hurt , but ‘twas gone quickly. "How like a man," Avaline sneered, "to notice only a woman's appearance."

"Nay, lass, yer burns dinnae matter. ‘Tis…yer eyes? Ye've changed."

"I'm a decade aulder!" she snapped. "The lass ye fell in love with was merely that—a lass."

Drum had winced at the word love but didn't deny it. His fingers were still wrapped around his sword's hilt and he watched her warily.

"Will ye tell me what happened?"

"What is there to tell?" she asked with a breezy shrug. "I needed to get away from my father's controlling thumb. He was determined to marry me off, and I vowed to never submit to a man's will."

"I thought ye holy," Drum murmured.

"That's what I wanted ye to think." Avaline was playing with the dagger now, her attention seemingly on the blade, her tone too nonchalant. " ‘Twas my only power, my only way to leave my family—what a fight that was! When ye were chosen to escort me, I saw an opportunity to get something else I wanted."

"What, lass?" he asked hoarsely, stepping nearer. "Pleasure?"

"Nay." She looked up, eyed him, then flicked her fingers dismissively as she turned away. "Power over a man. I made ye believe I wanted ye, aye? That we had a future together?"

"Ye did." His tone had gone hollow, and Brigit's chest squeezed, knowing how much he'd been hurt by her actions. "I wanted to marry ye."

"Aye, but ye werenae paying attention." Her lips curled into a cruel grin she sent him over her shoulder. " I didnae want to marry ye ." A click of her tongue, as if she dismissed him again. "I never forgot yer face as the doors of the nunnery closed after me. Looking so forlorn. I kenned then and there I could have power—no' just over men, but over anyone if I could find what they wanted and pretend to give it to them."

Drummond's expression…

Brigit's heart ached for him.

His face had gone hard, but his eyes shone with pain. This woman had hurt him for fun .

And even worse…Brigit sucked in a breath as she realized. Avaline's actions hadn't just hurt Drummond, they'd changed the way he thought about women for years. Her deliberate attempts to hurt him meant that Brigit almost lost him!

"I wanted to become the Abbess because I believed that was the only position of power open to a woman like me. I was on my way when I was caught in a fire that started in the library."

Drum's voice turned low and dangerous. "And how did that fire start, Rebecca?"

"Avaline, please," she corrected him. "I was born Rebecca, but I became Sister Avaline, and that is the name the Queen used when she scooped me up. I was recuperating in the infirmary when she found me. She'd heard about the fire, heard about my ambition, and decided she could use me."

"For certes, ye were grateful she didnae ken ye'd been the one to set the fire, aye?" he growled. "Likely part of the scheme to get rid of the Abbess."

Avaline huffed a bit. "I wasnae going to kill her. I just needed her to appear incompetent, so when a series of letters arrived at the palace urging them to appoint a new Abbess, I would be there to step into the role."

"Ye bitch. "

Avaline merely shrugged, her lips curled into a cruel smirk. "Men only say that because they cannae stand to see a powerful woman in control of her own destiny."

"Nay, I say that because ye are a heartless conniver who doesnae seem to care who she hurts in her quest for power. I would call ye a bitch even if ye had a cock."

"Oh, excellent, that is good to ken. Remember, ‘tis no' as if I'm a murderer. Nae one has died."

" Ye almost died in the fire that gave ye those scars."

"And I had more than enough time to lie there and contemplate my errors as I recuperated. I should have been more careful when I laid my trap. Ye'll see I've corrected that in my latest scheme."

"Ye almost killed me . Or rather, had me executed for attempted regicide!"

"Och nay." Avaline waggled the dagger mockingly as she spun back toward him. "I will kill ye. And I'll be the hero who saved the King yet again ."

When she stepped toward Drummond, Brigit pushed aside the tapestry, already reaching for her daggers.

‘Twas the Queen's grip on her wrist which stopped her, and she twisted to glare at the other woman. "Let me go," she hissed.

But the Queen merely shook her head, her attention on the pair by the altar. "Drummond can handle her," she whispered.

" I can handle her."

The Queen finally glanced at Brigit, eyes hard as she hissed, "Trust him. That is an order."

And that meant there was naught Brigit could do except trust the man she loved to protect himself. Still, her fingers remained wrapped around her throwing dagger, awaiting the moment the Queen decided Drum needed her help and released her.

But as always, Her Majesty was correct.

Drum had blocked Avaline's blow without even drawing his own sword. The Angel fought fast and dirty, the way Brigit had learned, and Drum wasn't used to the methods. Still, he managed to use his superior size and strength to block her attacks…mostly .

As she spun past him, her cloak billowing in her whirlwind offense, her blade skimmed down the outside of his forearm, causing him to curse and spin away. Brigit jerked forward, and the Queen's hold tightened on her wrist.

"That bitch," Brigit hissed, almost hoping she'd be heard and distract Avaline from her attack.

She needn't have bothered.

Because Drum turned his spin into a crouch, and when Avaline darted forward again, the tip of the dagger poised for blood, he grabbed her wrist, used her momentum to carry her over his shoulder, and tossed her to the ground.

As the knife clattered away, he dropped his knee to her thighs as he grabbed her other wrist, holding her in place. "Stay down," he snapped.

Bucking beneath him, Avaline screeched, "Coward! Fighting like a man—all strength and nae finesse." Her control was deserting her as she kicked. "Let me up and fight me fairly."

"Fairly?" he snorted. "I'm bleeding."

"Aye, and I'll make ye bleed worse, ye whoreson!"

Brigit watched Drum's expression fall into contemplation as he looked at the spitting she-devil beneath him. "I cannae believe I thought myself in love with ye. Was it all an act, Rebecca?"

"I told ye, I'm Avaline now. And aye, ‘twas all an act. Everything. Ye think I could fall in love? I want naught to do with men!"

"Well, ye need one," he said finally, rocking back and loosening his hold. "Mayhap a husband and a few bairns would change yer outlook on life. "

" How dare ye ," she screeched…just as the door to the chapel swung open.

"How dare he what ?" boomed a mighty voice, and Brigit's gaze swung in that direction.

Stepping through the door was the King of Scotland, fully dressed, his crown atop his head, not looking at all like a man caught unawares in bed. As Craig stepped into the chapel at his rear, Brigit smiled in relief, glad that part of the plan had gone off easily.

As the King strode down the length of the chapel, Avaline must've been frantically conniving. "Yer Majesty! Oh, thank the Saints! Please, ‘tis yer turn to help me !"

"Drummond?" the King rumbled, halting just inside the circle of light given off by the candelabra on the altar. "Care to explain?"

"Aye, Yer Majesty," he said immediately, releasing Avaline to rise to his feet. "I'm protecting ye."

"Me?" The King eyed the slender woman on the floor. "From?"

"Oh, Yer Majesty!" Avaline cried, struggling to her feet, holding her waist as if she'd been hurt, turning tear-filled eyes to the King. "He—the Hunter…" Her voice caught on a sob. "I confronted him about his attempts on yer life and he said he was on his way to yer chambers now! Thank God ye brought a bodyguard, but dinnae fash…" She struggled to shuffle about to face Drum, as if putting her body between him and the King. "I will protect ye again!"

Oh Lord .

Brigit felt her brows rise. ‘twas…a convincing act. Avaline really did look like a feeble and broken woman. One who was still trying to recover from a brutal attack by a larger man, struggling to maintain her dignity.

"Shite," Brigit hissed, hoping the King didn't fall for it.

From behind her, she thought she heard the Queen murmur, " Indeed ."

Luckily, Drummond didn't seem worried. Instead, he sighed and met the King's eyes over Avaline's shoulder. "I was lured here by a letter, Yer Majesty, and can prove it. ‘Twas from someone saying they kenned the identity of the assassin. When I arrived here, Lady Avaline had an interesting story."

"Dinnae believe him, Yer Majesty," Avaline insisted, her earlier quaver gone. She balled her fists and, with a deep breath, lifted them as if to fight Drum hand-to-hand. "Ye can trust me. I'm the hero."

Drum just shook his head, holding her gaze. "She arranged everything, Yer Majesty. The ambush in the corridor, the potion in the wine. Even this. She arranged it so I would appear guilty, so she could save ye at the last moment and gain power and prestige."

The King hummed. "A woman being manipulative? What a shock."

But to Brigit's surprise, Drum gave the King his full attention and spoke with passion.

"No' all women are like that, manipulative and cunning. I thought that way for the longest time, thanks to the actions of this woman. I thought all women were like her, and finding out Brigit was an Angel and had kept it from me…"

Shaking his head, he turned back to Avaline, whose expression clearly showed her rage. "I hate that I gave ye that power over me, Avaline. I judged Brigit based on yer example, jumping to the worst conclusions and thinking her just as manipulative as ye…when really, she was only doing what I would've done in her place to protect my monarch."

"How touching ," Avaline spat, shaking her fists. "But it just shows she is as weak as ye are."

"Brigit weak? Nay," he chuckled, shaking his head as he settled his hands on his hips, ignoring his bloody forearm. "She is strong enough to stand at my side, and I am grateful for it."

Hearing those words, something deep inside Brigit melted…she suspected ‘twas her fear. She felt the Queen release her wrist, and, in a sort of daze, stepped through the tapestry. She wanted to run to Drum, to nestle in his arms.

The King glanced about. "What exactly is going on here, for the love of shite?"

"I dinnae love shite," Craig rumbled from behind him. "But I believe ‘tis a case of finding the true villain."

Brigit was already stepping toward the light when the Queen's voice rang out clear from behind her. "I can tell you what is going on, husband."

All eyes in the chapel swung toward the Queen, who held her head high as she stepped to her husband's side.

"Lady Avaline, once known to Drummond Kennedy by the name Rebecca, has manipulated her way through life, intent on gaining power and control. Most recently, she herself set the ambush with the crossbow and poured the poison—which was not really poison—into your wine."

The King's expression clouded to anger. "She was trying to kill me?"

"No," his wife's voice rang clear, her face neutral as she examined Avaline. "She wanted it to appear that someone was trying to kill you, so she could ‘save' you at the last moment and be the hero."

Brigit wanted to throw herself into Drum's arms, but instead, as Avaline scoffed and straightened, appearing just as regal as the monarchs, she wrapped her hand around her dagger and stepped to his side.

Briefly, he glanced down at her, and she saw his lips tug sideways, as if trying not to smile.

The King considered Avaline. "The plan seems clumsy at best."

"Clumsy?" she scoffed. " ‘Twas brilliant. It worked, did it no'? Ye thought me so brave, so smart."

"Aye, it worked, Lady Avaline," the King intoned solemnly. "But no' forever. Thanks to my Hunter—"

"And my Angel," the Queen interrupted.

Her husband nodded. "We now ken the truth. So, the question stands; what to do with ye? As an attempted assassin, I am within my rights to order ye executed now, and I have several loyal Hunters here to perform the task, although neither have their helms."

Brigit's chest felt as if an elephant was sitting atop it. Avaline executed? From the way the other woman paled, she was dreading it as well .

But the Queen saved her. "Nay, husband. I have a better idea. More fitting."

"No' death, darling?"

As if knowing the King was teasing her, the English Queen sent him a raised brow. "Worse. Marriage."

Her husband chuckled. "Marriage is worse than death?"

"Nay!" screeched Avaline, slashing her hand through the air. "Execution! I'll no' be under some man's thumb!"

"A good man could—" began the King, but Avaline shook her head violently.

"I'll no' be able to gain power!"

The King nodded solemnly. "Aye, that is the idea, lass. Do ye find the thought of a man's touch abhorrent? Is that the case?"

Avaline hesitated, and Drum spoke up. "She doesnae, Yer Majesty. I can attest to that."

Brigit wrinkled her nose, deciding she hated Avaline a little more.

The King nodded solemnly. "So be it. I have decided Lawrence is ready to retire. I will provide him with a simple estate and a young wife."

"Larry the butler?" blurted Brigit at the same time Avaline shrieked, "That auld man?"

"Craig?" The King beckoned the other man forward. "Take Lady Avaline to the dungeons. The wedding will happen soon, and we ought to give her a taste of the alternatives in the meantime."

As Craig led the other woman away—spitting and cursing—Their Majesties turned to Drum and Brigit, standing before the altar .

"For whatever part I have played in this, I am sorry," Drum formally offered with a slight bow.

The King chuckled. "It seems as though ye are the one owed an apology. I am sorry I ever doubted yer loyalty, Drummond Kennedy. Ye are a good man and I regret I was manipulated into thinking aught else."

"We all were," his wife said, laying her hand on his forearm. "I am sorry as well."

Drum accepted the apologies with another nod, then glanced down at Brigit. Thinking he was hoping for another apology, she opened her mouth…but was halted when he spoke.

"And I am sorry, Brigit, that I ever doubted yer loyalty."

Loyalty to the Crown.

Loyalty to him .

She smiled softly. "I love ye, Drummond. I will always be loyal."

Surprise flashed in his eyes, then joy settled into his smile. "Truly, Brigit? Ye love me?" His hand found hers, fingers twining together.

She nodded. "I've cared for ye for a long time, but this adventure has shown me ye are a good man, a brave man, a loyal man. One Scotland is lucky to have. And…" She ducked her head, peeking up at him through her lashes. "One I'd be lucky to have."

"Och, lass, ye'll never have to doubt if ye have me again. I—I love ye so much."

Love ye so much…love ye so much …

The refrain repeated in her mind until Brigit couldn't hear aught else. She stared breathlessly up at him, unable to speak, unable to breathe .

He tugged her closer until they stood chest-to-chest. She was so much smaller, but still felt his equal.

"I'll stand beside ye, Drum," she whispered, uncertain she was making sense. "I'll guard yer back. Together."

His fingers tightened around hers. "Together. I'll protect ye, Brigit, and ye protect me? Our strength is more powerful together."

"Together," she repeated faintly.

As if from a distance, she heard the tinkle of the Queen's laughter. "Well, darling? It seems we have a new sort of protector."

"An Angel and a Hunter?" the King mused. "As our bodyguards? I think this will work well. I think we ought to make them partners."

"Make them?" the Queen chuckled. "Darling, they're already partners!"

Brigit's gaze hadn't left Drum's. "Partners?" she whispered.

He was already leaning closer. "Always."

Equals .

They were both grinning when their lips met.