Chapter 6

"Forty-six!" called the Queen, darting forward to smack the shuttlecock with her wooden paddle.

Brigit followed the path of the cork, which had duck feathers poked into one end to slow its fall, impressed by the altitude the other women managed. As it began to fall back toward the lawn, she judged its trajectory and…

Whack .

"Forty-seven!" she called as the thing soared up again.

"Oh, well done, Brigit, I was not certain we could recover from that!" her partner called, eyeing the fall of the shuttlecock.

The breeze played with the leaves of the trees here in the garden, as well as the veils and gowns of the ladies. There were quite a few of them—all somehow related to the Queen, or owed favors, or hoping for favors—spread through the rows of rose bushes and evenly spaced flower beds.

The garden was protected on three sides by the palace, and on the fourth by a stone wall with a secret exit. Brigit herself had used that door a few times, and she knew Isabel's son—and the Queen's daughter—had been kidnapped through it as well.

Aye, this was a familiar location, but the activity…

"Watch it! Brigit, watch it!" the Queen called, and Brigit's attention snapped back to the feather-covered cork, hurtling back toward her.

She lunged, swinging her paddle. "Fifty-two! "

But instead of making contact, she swooshed past the target which landed with a disappointing plop on the grass. The Queen wasn't the only watcher who groaned in disappointment.

"I'm sorry, Yer Majesty," Brigit offered, scooping up the shuttlecock and hurrying toward her. "I was distracted."

"Oh, that is fine, my dear," the Queen replied, taking both the paddle and cork from Brigit. "You are allowed some distraction recently, I imagine. Besides, I would rather you miss the shot in front of everyone than me."

Her teasing smile told Brigit she meant no harm, although there was a bit of truth in the statement. So, Brigit forced a grin in return.

"'Tis lucky for ye that the game is cooperative instead of competitive; ye already have all the ladies scared of ye. Imagine trying to play against them."

A small huff of laughter. "They would likely be dropping the cock every which way out of fear of offending me."

Brigit's gaze skimmed the courtly ladies and she hummed in agreement. The game of battledore and shuttlecock was a simple one; two or more players rallied the shuttlecock back and forth, trying to keep it aloft and counting the hits. If it ever evolved into a game more similar to tenis where the players attempted to score points on their opponents, the Queen of Scotland would kick everyone's arse.

"Oh God's Teeth, Brigit!"

At her monarch's exasperation, Brigit whirled, already reaching for her dagger to defend from danger. But the Queen was standing with one hand on her hip, brows cocked.

"What?" Brigit asked, relaxing.

"You! You have been distracted of late, I will agree, but passing up the chance to make a comment about these ladies dropping the cock every which way ?" The Queen stepped forward, reaching for Brigit's brow. "You must be ill. Are you fevered? Allow me to check."

Scoffing, Brigit brushed away her hand and side-stepped the English woman. "I am healthy enough. Just…distracted."

"Very distracted, if you missed dropping the cock —"

"Aye, fine, aright," Brigit snapped with a roll of her eyes. She made her voice honey-sweet to say, "Heavens, Yer Majesty, if they all dropped the cock, we'd be finding unmanned men throughout the gardens."

The Queen chuckled. "Sounds messy."

"I do manage to do other things besides make cock jokes," Brigit sighed.

"Oh really?" the other woman teased, handing off the equipment to a servant. "Such as embroidery? The purple heather on your neckline is exquisite."

Unbidden, Brigit's hand rose to brush the stitching, which were, of course, her secret penises. Judging from the twinkle in the Queen's eyes, she knew it too.

But Brigit wasn't in the mood to be teased and looked away.

"Oh, dear, I am sorry," the other woman finally admitted with a sigh, stepping up to Brigit and sliding her hand through her bent elbow. "You have plenty of other talents. Investigation, strategy…."

"Seduction," Brigit finished dully.

"Ah."

The Queen inhaled, as if she was going to say something—mayhap not something Brigit wanted to hear—but was interrupted by a call from the other side of the gardens.

"The chessboard is prepared!"

The announcement was met with a general hue and cry of excitement as the ladies of the court gathered their skirts and moved in various stages of hurry toward the other end of the walled sanctuary.

The Queen sighed and squeezed Brigit's arm against her ribcage. "Will you partner with me?"

"Of course, Yer Majesty."

They strolled sedately in the wake of the ladies, and Brigit couldn't even force herself to find humor in what awaited them. ‘twas the latest rage at court, and one simple enough: life-sized chess.

As they arrived, Avaline was overseeing The Hats. That's how she called them, and everyone present could hear the capital letters.

"Pawns, yer helms are here—yes, Millicent, feel free to take the mace, ‘tis wood, but still have a care if ye are called to fight. Milady Keith, will ye play the part of the black queen? Yer daughter should be the bishop. Here is the headdress—nay, just put it atop yer wimple."

Brigit and the Queen slowed to watch the set-up. Not for the first time, Brigit reflected on how well Avaline took command. ‘Twas as if she'd been born for such a role and only made do as a court attendant and spy.

" She should have been queen," murmured the monarch at her side.

"I was just thinking something similar. She certainly understands command well, aye?"

"Yes, and she has been quite proud since my husband publicly praised her for saving his life again. I wonder—oh yes, look, Ava has made herself the white queen."

Brigit watched her partner scurry about the chessboard—merely colored tiles atop the grass—arranging her pieces. "So ye are to play the black side."

The Queen pulled her arm free to rub her hands together almost gleefully. "Yes, I appreciate advantages of allowing her the first move. Besides, I believe Ava overestimates her skill."

Eyeing the board, Brigit wasn't so certain. "It must be difficult to play from the chessboard."

Avaline was surrounded by the other pieces, unable to see the bigger picture.

"Yes, that is what I mean." The Queen sounded downright evil. Then she raised her voice. "Are we all ready? Excellent. Lady Avaline, you have the first move."

"Pawn E2 to E4." A pause, then, "Mary! That is ye! Move two squares forward! Nay, no' just the black ones, come back."

Brigit hid her smirk, but the Queen wasn't as polite. She immediately called out, "Pawn E7 to E5. Excellent. "

Avaline frowned as she twisted in place, trying to see the whole board. "Knight G1 to F3. Lady Sybil, pay attention, that is ye— nay , ye're a knight! Ye remember how knights move?"

The game continued, with Avaline rallying her players and the Queen shooting off commands—and keeping her patience as her players became confused and wandered off. There was a bit of excitement when the first pawn was taken by a knight, and Millicent tried to use her wooden mace to defend herself.

"Oh dear, Sybil, I am certain the bleeding will stop. Millicent—do stop crying, girl—take her to the infirmary. Someone take Sybil's spot—not you, Brigit." The Queen took a hold of her elbow. "I need your advice."

"For certes, Yer Majesty," Brigit murmured, ducking her head. "Try King to E12."

The monarch snorted. "That is not a thing. Clearly you do not play this game."

Thinking of the dangerous games Brigit had played, she sighed. "Nay, no' this one."

"Queen D8 to E7," the Queen called, then lowered her voice to speak only to Brigit. "You have not been yourself this last sennight. I would think you would be pleased, having exonerated your beau."

Her beau. Is that what Drummond had been to her? Brigit hadn't seen him—had purposefully avoided him, these last seven days.

But ‘twas no use. Even without seeing him, she thought of him.

Thought of his strength and the way he'd held her, protected her .

Thought of his heart and the way he'd always cared so much about her pleasure and comfort.

Thought of his smile, his laughter. The way he looked at her when she tried to comfort him , as if she were a minor miracle.

And, despite everything, Brigit thought of the day they spent working together, trying to solve the mystery of the attempted assassin.

They'd meshed perfectly, each playing off the other's strengths, each complementing the other. It had been nice to have a partner she could trust so easily.

Until she broke that trust.

Mayhap she'd made a sound, because the Queen turned from calling a move to pat Brigit's arm. "You are unhappy with the way things turned out?"

"Nay, Yer Majesty. I just wish…"

The older woman hummed. "You feel conflicted about your role in his exoneration?"

Taking a deep breath, Brigit decided to tell her friend the truth. "Drum is…he doesnae trust easily. He was beginning to trust me, and I can admit that we worked well together. In such a short time, we were able to discover so much, and his mind is as sharp as Ava's. But…"

"But?" the Queen asked, then called, "Knight G8 to F6."

" But ," Brigit continued with a sigh, "he only worked with me because…" How to explain? "In the past, a woman he trusted betrayed him. She manipulated him, and because of that, he's refused to work with women on his missions—I have heard stories from his Hunters about his warnings. "

"Ah, and because he worked with you, you believe he trusted you?" The Queen raised her voice in exasperation. "Ladies! Chess is a substitute for warfare! Do cease slapping each other with those silly wooden maces—no, only the knights may use the swords, Madeline!"

As the match devolved to a bit of a scuffle, Avaline hoisted up her skirt and waded into the fray. Brigit and the Queen watched—one despaired, one amused.

"I am not certain this game is the best idea for the ladies of the court," she said.

Brigit huffed . "Where else are they going to get out their petty differences—och, that was a nice shot. Lady MacDonald will be seeing stars for a while."

The Queen hummed as she watched Avaline trying to pull apart two grandmothers. "So, Drummond is angry at you?"

"He is…" How to explain? "He trusted me, if only for a little while. And I manipulated him and betrayed him."

"But only because ‘twas your mission," the Queen pointed out calmly. "Orders from me. And besides that, you had a relationship with him long before I ordered you to get close to him to find out what you could."

Aye, that was true. But would Drum believe that? "But that day…"

"Ah." A pause. "You became very close to him, I would imagine."

Brigit snorted, then nodded. Aye, one might say that.

"What has he said? "

"Naught, Yer Majesty. He's avoided me and I've avoided him."

"What?" She rounded on Brigit incredulously. "But you saved him! Does he not realize that? One moment." She glanced at the board long enough to call, "Rook F8 to F7, please, quickly," before swinging back to Brigit. "He has been exonerated, thanks to your efforts, and is now on the same assignment you are. You have had no luck in finding the true assailant?"

Stiffly, Brigit shook her head. "Nay, Yer Majesty. My investigations are turning up naught."

"And he has had no success either, or at least none he's reported to my husband. Queen G5 to…H4, yes!" She glanced down at Brigit. "Who knows what efforts he is having alone?"

Brigit considered those words as the game continued, then—in a lull while Avaline broke up another fight—ventured, "I dinnae understand what ye mean, Yer Majesty."

"Just that it is possible he works better with you than he did alone. Bishop G4 to H3! Have you considered that?"

She…hadn't. "Just as I do?"

"Hmmm. Who knows what he is doing, flopping about on his own, without you. Queen H4 to G3!"

"But, Yer Majesty, he doesnae want to see me."

The Queen's attention was on the game as the lady playing the white king moved out of the way of the black queen's danger. "Do you know that for certes?"

Squeezing her eyes shut, Brigit remembered the way Drum had glared at her a week ago as the monarchs ate dinner. She remembered the rage in his eyes, the hurt in his tone. "Aye," she whispered, voice ragged. "I do."

"Well, that is too bad." The Queen raised her voice. "Queen G3 to F2. Check!"

"King E2 to D1" said Avaline with a defeated sigh.

"Queen F2 to C2!" the Queen called in excitement. "Checkmate!"

As the ladies—both those in the game and those engaged in bonking one another with their chess hats on the sidelines—cheered, Brigit tried to rally some good spirits.

"Congratulations, Yer Majesty."

"Piffle."

Brigit blinked. "Bless ye? Was that a sneeze?"

"No, it is a dismissive word meaning I am brushing off your praise." The monarch lowered her voice and leaned closer. "Avaline is brilliant at command but lacks something when it comes to chess mastery. Now, what were we talking about before I thoroughly trounced her? Oh yes, your—"

"He's no' mine," Brigit interrupted. No' anymore.

"Yes, well, you would like him to be."

Since the Queen was looking at her— truly looking at her, not focused on her court, Brigit couldn't brush off the question. She took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and told the truth. "I think I love him."

"Brava!" Her Majesty cried, grabbing Brigit's shoulders and tugging her closer to press a kiss on each cheek. "I am so happy for you, dear. "

"Happy?" Since Brigit was so much shorter than the Queen—shorter than everyone, really—she had to tip her head back to stare incredulously. "I havenae—I cannae…" Her hands flapped about in frustration. "He hates me! He must!"

"Yes, well, that is to be expected." The Queen straightened, her tone no-nonsense as the ladies of the court began to break away in pairs and trios, discussing the game, and Avaline collected The Hats. "He is the sort of man who does not trust easily, and you have merely confirmed that for him."

"Thank ye," Brigit muttered sarcastically.

"But this is a detail." The Queen wrapped her fingers around Brigit's forearm. "You love him. He feels strongly about you—if he did not, then he would not feel betrayed."

The words opened a familiar pit in Brigit's stomach. "I hadnae thought of that," she whispered miserably.

"No, you do not understand!" The other woman shook her slightly. "If he loved you the way you love him, then this current impediment is merely a stone in the path of happiness. You must find a way to step over it! If you can, it will be easy to remind him of his feelings for you."

Brigit refused to see hope, refused to believe it could be as simple as the Queen was saying. "And how am I supposed to do that?"

The English Queen tsked. "Must I do everything? Fine. I command you to go to him. Work with him. Ask him questions about his investigation and offer to help him—you likely have more contacts than he does. Offer him…offer him the crossbow if he has not seen it. Offer him the truth."

The truth .

No more lies. No more deceptions. "You mean…I go to him as an Angel? He is a King's Hunter, and I am a Queen's Angel… He will be livid."

"Yes, he will," the other woman said dismissively. "And then he will get over it because he will realize you were doing everything in his best interest."

"I dinnae think—"

With a sigh, the Queen released her. "You will have to trust me, dear Brigit; I have been married for some time. Wives need to be cunning to take care of the men we love, and we are . In some cases, that means not revealing we were working behind their backs. In other cases, it means ordering our loyal agent to pick herself up and climb back into the game."

The last was said with a stern look before the Queen turned about and swept toward her other ladies.

Brigit could only stare after her.

Wives need to be cunning to take care of the men we love .

Aye, she loved Drum, but… wife ?

Nay, ‘twas unlikely he'd ever forgive her for what she'd done.

But the Queen was right. She needed to discover the assassin, and experience had taught her she had the best chance if she was working with Drummond instead of against him .

She would tell him the truth of her past and her present. If he'd listen, she would bring him the evidence the Angels had collected and compare it to whatever he had amassed.

Together, they would identify the assassin and bring him down.

God willing .

No matter how angry he might be with her right now, Brigit had to go to him. Had to convince him to work with her.

No manipulations, no lies.

Only the truth.

And pray it would work.