Amanda Scott (31 page)

“I do have a fire for you to tend, sweetheart,” he said, still grinning. “But first I think we should discuss our plan of action. Henry has put Waldron, the abbot, and the two louts who tried to help Waldron under lock and key, and he intends to keep them close held until after the ceremony, when he will put them into a boat and order them back to the Holy Isle.”

“But Waldron will not want to go to the Holy Isle,” she protested.

“Nay, he will not,” he said, handing her the sticks she had requested.

“Nor do we know where the rest of his men are,” she reminded him as she gently coaxed glowing embers to flame again. “We’ve seen only those two, and with all the people here for the ceremony, we’d never know which were his.”

“Just so. That is why we mean to put them off our track by another means. You and I are going to Roslin, but Hugo and Adela—if she agrees—are going to make it look as if we go to Castle St. Clair instead.”

She instantly saw his intent. “You expect Waldron, the abbot, or any other watchers to mistake them for us. But why would we be going to Caithness?”

“Because Henry is inviting a number of his guests to journey there with him on Monday. He will include as many of your family as will accept his invitation, and most folks will assume that we are amongst them. Are you finished fussing with that fire yet?” he demanded, holding out an imperious hand.

Letting him draw her to her feet, she said, “But won’t they expect Hugo and Adela to be with us, too?”

“Aye, perhaps, but those to whom it matters most will be watching for me. Hugo will be dressed in my clothing, his ship will carry Adela, and it will fly my banner. I think the image will serve, as long as no one sees us depart earlier.”

“But how will we get away without anyone seeing us?”

“I’m thinking we’ll wear servants’ garb, carry our own, and depart late Sunday night. Just in case anyone does see us, Henry can say that he is sending a boat ahead with servants to prepare those at St. Clair for more visitors. Unnecessary, of course. His people at St. Clair are always able to look after a horde of guests.”

She thought for a long moment, then nodded. “I think it will work,” she said. “But you know Waldron better than I do. Will he believe we are visiting Henry?”

He had become interested in her chaplet, the veil of which framed her face with soft ruffles. Finding the pins that held it in place, he began to remove them as he said, “I don’t know what Waldron will think, but I believe the ruse will suffice to let us reach Roslin at least a few days ahead of him.”

“Then you believe he will go there no matter what we do.”

“I do. He believes we hold the secret, but since the most anyone seems to know is that the treasure likely came to the Isles in those ships, I think he has assumed until now that it still lies somewhere in the Isles and that we know where. However, it has to have occurred to him, despite his protests to the contrary, that I might have spoken the truth and knew nothing about it until he told me, himself. If he comes to believe that, he will know that by having confronted me, he has stirred my curiosity and will therefore want to watch me closely. Once he knows I have returned to Roslin, he may likewise deduce that the answer may lie at Roslin.”

“I wonder why he hasn’t searched there before now, if indeed he has not.”

“He hasn’t,” Michael said confidently as he tossed her chaplet and veil aside and reached to remove the gold-lace net that still confined her hair. “I’m sure I have mentioned to you before how adamant our father was about keeping our private matters private. Even before I knew of the treasure, I took precautions to protect our privacy, and so does Henry, but we don’t make a grand show of guarding Roslin. At the moment, it has only a minimal guard, but Waldron has never been alone there. Guests stay there only when I am at home, or Henry is, and although our people are discreet, guests never roam about without watchers to keep an eye on them. That was my father’s way, and my grandfather’s, and it has been my way and Henry’s.”

His words sent a shiver up Isobel’s spine, but she understood the need for such precaution, however uncomfortable it made her feel. “Will they watch me like that?” she asked before she knew the question had stepped onto her tongue.

“Nay, lass,” he said, tossing the gold net after chaplet and caul. “You are my wife, which makes you part of me and me part of you, and I am rapidly coming to trust you as I would trust myself. I am not saying,” he added gently as he reached to undo the front lacing of her kirtle, “that nothing could ever change that, but at the moment, I cannot imagine what could.”

The qualification annoyed her, but she decided her annoyance was unjust. Recalling that he had surprised her by not scolding her as Hugo had scolded Adela after the confrontation with Waldron and the abbot, she told herself that had she trusted him as she wanted him to trust her, she would have trusted him to accept that she’d had good reason to trust the gillie who had taken them there. Such reasoning made her head spin but reminded her, too, how complex trust could be.

The front of her kirtle popped open and Michael’s warm hand slipped inside, instantly diverting her from her convoluted thoughts. “What are you doing?”

He grinned. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m getting ready for bed.”

She glanced down at him. “Faith, sir, I believe you are ready now.”

Needing no further encouragement, he had her kirtle and shift off her in a trice, picked her up without further ado, and took her to bed.

The next day passed swiftly and without incident. If Isobel spent much of it trying to discern who among the increasing company might be allies of Waldron’s, or which of them might wonder where the Green Abbot was, she was careful for once not to let her curiosity show. She spent much of her time at Michael’s side, chatting with old friends and making new ones. But she took care not to neglect Adela or the rest of her family, even taking time to talk with Macleod.

“Ye make a fine lady for your husband, lass,” he said with satisfaction. “I’m that proud o’ ye. Now, if ye’ll just find a man for our Adela, I’ll be thanking ye.”

“Who will manage Sorcha and Sidony if I do that, sir?”

“Bless me, but ye can find them husbands, too,” he retorted. Then, leaning nearer, he murmured, “In troth, lass, I’m thinking o’ taking another wife, but I’m thinking she’ll no want the burden o’ looking after them lasses, so the sooner I see ’em off to live wi’ husbands o’ their own, the better satisfied I’ll be.”

Astonished that, after so many years, he was considering putting another woman in her mother’s place, Isobel nevertheless promised to see what she could do for her sisters, and took leave of him soon afterward to rejoin Michael.

The following day’s ceremony proved to be as lavish as Sir Henry had promised if rather more boring than Isobel had expected.

Kirkwall’s cathedral teemed with the nobility of northern Scotland and the Isles, and included clan chiefs from as far away as Dumfries, Galloway, Knapdale, and Kintail, as well. The cathedral was neither particularly beautiful nor particularly large. The crowd of spectators filled it and spilled over to the grounds outside long before the ceremony began, but Henry had realized that it would, and began his procession nearly a quarter mile away.

The sun shone brightly in a clear azure sky, the breeze was light and not too chilly for comfort, and the pipers and other musicians played merrily as Henry and his entourage approached.

He had dressed splendidly in robes of silver, blue, and gray silk trimmed with miniver over a rich blue-velvet doublet and matching trunk hose, and he wore a simple round silver circlet on his head. He looked so much a prince of the realm that Isobel glanced at Michael, right behind him, to see if he had altered in a similar way. Reassuringly, he looked his usual calm self.

The members of Henry’s entourage took seats that had been reserved for them on the front pews, and Michael joined Isobel in the second row, as Henry walked up to the altar and turned to face the assembly alone.

Trumpets sounded from both sides of the chamber, and then silence fell.

Henry opened his arms wide, looked up as if to seek guidance or offer thanks, and then looked at his audience and said in a firm, quiet voice that carried easily to the back walls of the chamber, “My lords, ladies, and people of Orkney, I, Henry of St. Clair, Jarl of Orkney, Lord of Roslin, do greet thee in the name of our Lord. On the second day of this month, in Maestrand, Norway, I took an oath in the presence of King Haakon, which I now repeat to you so that you may know what I have promised: Whereas the most serene prince in Christ, my beloved Lord Haakon, by the grace of God, King of the realms of Norway and Sweden, appointed us of his grace to rule over his lands and islands of Orkney, and raised us to the state of jarl over the foresaid lands and islands, we make known to all men both present and to come that we have rendered fealty to the same lord our King by the kiss of his hand and mouth, and rendered to him a true and due oath of fidelity to be observed so far as giving counsel and assistance to our said lord the King and his heirs and successors and to his kingdom of Norway. In the first place, therefore, we firmly oblige ourselves to serve our said lord and King over with the lands and islands of Orkney with one hundred good men or more, fully equipped in arms, for the convenience of our said lord and King, whensoever we shall have been sufficiently required . . .”

Isobel’s attention strayed to a lady nearby whose headdress stood so high that people behind her were craning to see Henry.

“. . . we promise to defend the said lands with the men which we shall be able to gather for this purpose not only from the said lands and islands but with the whole strength of our kin, friends, and servants. Likewise if it should happen . . .”

She glanced at Michael. So Henry expected him to help defend the Orkneys for the Norse King, did he? No wonder the King of Scots took a dim view of this princedom. That reminded her of something else, and she leaned closer to Michael.

“Why did he not call himself Prince of Orkney?” she whispered. “He called himself something like an earl instead.”

“‘Jarl,’” he said. “Jarl of Orkney is the highest rank in Norway except for that of its King. The highest rank in Scotland next to the King of Scots is that of prince. The difference is that in Norway, it’s a bit of both.”

She nodded but found the audience more interesting than Henry’s speech, which went on and on until she was thoroughly bored. The people across the way, behind the lady with the tall headdress, seemed to be dozing. But at last it was over, and when Henry stopped speaking, the silence lingered long enough to make her wonder if everyone else had fallen asleep.

Then, suddenly, applause and cheering broke out, trumpets and pipes played wildly, and Henry and his entourage formed their recession and walked out much more briskly than they had entered. Michael joined them, taking Isobel’s arm as he did, so that she felt as if she were actually part of the prince’s entourage. The excitement proved contagious, and by the time they joined Henry outside and headed back to the bishop’s palace, she was enjoying herself hugely.

The rest of the day provided more entertainment in the form of musicians, players, tumblers, jugglers, and their ilk. Feasting and dancing lasted well into the night, but just as she realized that she was thoroughly exhausted, Michael took her arm again and leaned close to say, “It is time, sweetheart.”

“Time for bed?” she asked, covering a yawn. “I’m nearly asleep on my feet.”

He chuckled. “Don’t fall asleep yet, lass. Our boat awaits us in the harbor, and we must still change our clothes.”

Startled completely awake, she stared at him for a moment before her wits caught up with her. “Oh, mercy,” she muttered, glancing around to see if anyone could have overheard him, only to realize that no one could have over the din.

“Don’t look as if we’re up to mischief,” he warned her. “And don’t go that way. We are not going to our room but to his eminence’s kitchen. Hugo has our clothes outside and will have found someplace for us to change into them. Look as if you are stealing a few private moments with your husband,” he added, kissing her soundly on the lips.

She responded instantly, putting her arms around him and kissing him back.

Ten minutes later, they were outside with Hugo, heading for a thicket that he had assured them was sufficiently sheltered for their purpose. And fifteen minutes after that, Hugo returned to the castle, and she and Michael walked with three other men to the harbor. Only when they reached the longboat drawn onto the beach did Isobel see that two women wearing hooded cloaks were already aboard.

When she hesitated, Michael chuckled and said, “Hugo’s sense of humor will sink him one day. They are but men in skirts, lass, pretending to be female to augment the illusion he’s created. Tell them I said to keep their hands to themselves.”

One of the two, in servant’s dress almost exactly like Isobel’s, moved to help her board. As she took the hand extended to her, she thought it unusually smooth for a man’s but made no comment, certain the lad would not appreciate one.

Michael, swinging himself aboard behind her, said, “I’ll be rowing for the present, lass, so just sit quietly there with your friend.” To the other two in skirts, he said evenly, “I presume that someone has told you both that this lady is my wife.”

“Aye, my lord, Sir Hugo said we was t’ keep our hands to ourselves,” one said gruffly, adding as a swift afterthought, “nobbut what we would anyway, sir.”

“See that you do,” Michael said.

So much for his confidence in her ability to take care of herself, Isobel thought, hiding a smile. Hugo’s, too. She could as easily have worn men’s clothes herself, as she had before. Hugo need not have made the two men wear skirts.

Not until they were some miles from the harbor did Michael leave his oar and return to assure himself that she was comfortable. She was dozing but woke when he said crisply to the two beside her, “You may both take an oar now. You need not think you can just idle away this whole journey.”