“I believe ye,” he said quietly. “I hae come to love ye as I never loved another, Annabella. We hae forged a strong bond of passion between us.”
She felt the tears filling her soft gray eyes. “Aye, Angus, we have indeed,” she agreed with him. “Will ye forgie me for disobeying ye?”
“Ye saved my life,” he said. “How can I fault that? And yer judgment today was invaluable to me. Thank ye.”
“I must return to the ship as Master Hamilton,” she told him.
He laughed. “I heard the tale ye wove for the captain. What will ye tell him now?” He moved his mount closer to her.
“I shall say I found my master carousing in a tavern wi’ the innkeeper’s buxom daughter, who hae become his mistress
and
is wi’ bairn. That he hae promised her marriage, according to the gossips in the marketplace near the inn. Of course I dinna allow him to see me, and having learned what I needed to know for my mistress, I am returning as quickly as I can to her.”
The earl chuckled. “Ye hae a talent, madam, for telling tall tales. Should I hae cause for concern?” he teased her.
“
Angus!
” Her tone was aggrieved, but she was smiling.
They rode on the rest of the afternoon, stopping at twilight at the inn where they had stayed the night before. They ate a hot meal rather than take the food with them. Then, as there was still some light left, they rode out once again. A full moon rose, and so they rode on until finally the earl called a stop to their travels. The horses were turned out into the field bordering the road to rest and graze. Annabella and her husband curled up together near a cairn of stones.
When the skies began to lighten they awoke to find themselves surrounded by a silvery gray mist that hung in and over the fields and the trees. They could see the outline of their horses. Angus went to fetch them. Annabella noticed that even the birds were silent in this magical environment that had sprung up around them. Saddling their beasts, they rode on toward Brest, stopping at a small roadside hostelry at noonday to fill their empty bellies with hot food and good wine.
By late afternoon they had reached Brest and rode first to the livery stables to return their mounts. Then they walked through the foggy streets to the stone quay where the
Gazelle
bobbed in the water at anchor. They were greeted by the captain.
“Excellent!” he said. “We’ll make the tide in another hour. ’Tis early today. If ye had not come until later, we could not hae left until tomorrow. Master Hamilton, is that ye? Hae ye accomplished yer mission for yer mistress then, lad?”
“I hae,” Annabella replied. “ ’Twas nae difficult.” And then she recited to the captain just what she had told Angus earlier that she would say.
The captain laughed heartily, for there was nothing a sailor loved better than his beer and good gossip. “Ye’ll nae mind sharing yer cabin again wi’ His Lordship, will ye?” he asked. “The smaller cabin is occupied by a Scots merchant and his wife going home.”
“I found the earl a most considerate traveler,” Annabella said. “I hope he found me the same. I am happy to share wi’ him.”
“Good! Good! Then ye both know the way,” the captain said.
Annabella drew the fare she had paid last time from a small purse beneath her shirt and offered it to the captain. He pocketed it with a nod. “Thank ye, Master Hamilton,” he said to her. She moved quickly away, now seeking the security of the cabin. The fog was growing thicker, and she honestly didn’t see how they could get under way at the turning of the tide without a wind to encourage the sails. Oddly, however, there was enough of a breeze despite the gauzelike mist. They managed to get down the river and into the open sea, where the wind began to blow a bit stronger.
By the time Angus reached the cabin Annabella was fast asleep. He let her rest, for the past few days had to have been difficult for her, even if she did not complain. In the morning they found the fog gone, but the skies overhead were a washed-out blue, almost white. The pale sun was a smudge above the vessel. The wind began to freshen, and two days later was blowing strongly.
“We’re racing ahead of a fine storm,” the cabin boy told Annabella. “We’ll be to Leith several days ahead of schedule if these breezes keep up. Ye’re lucky, for ye’ll be home before ye know it. Unless, of course, the wind drops.”
“And if it does?” Annabella asked him.
“We’ll find ourselves in the midst of that fine storm for several days,” he said sanguinely. “But I think luck is wi’ us, Master Hamilton.”
The
Gazelle
entered the Firth of Forth seven days later, just as night fell. Their voyage had been three days shorter than they had anticipated. The ship docked. The merchant and his wife hurried down the gangway and into the dim street. Annabella disembarked as quickly, heading for the Mermaid, where she and Angus were to meet. She had not seen Angus leave the ship, but he was already awaiting. Taking her arm, he led her to a private room in the rear of the inn, where there was a fine supper already laid out for them, and off the supper room she saw a bedchamber with a large, comfortable-looking bed.
“We’re remaining the night?” she asked him.
“Aye. ’Tis too dark for us to go, but we’ll leave at first light. Unpin yer braid, sweetheart,” he said to her. “If anyone is looking for me they won’t expect a man and a woman traveling together, but rather will be seeking just a single rider.”
“Is someone looking for ye?” she asked candidly.
“They should nae be, if Matthew managed to keep Donal Stewart penned up,” he answered her. “But I would nae take any chances. I’d rather send Stewart to his da wi’ my parchment than hae to face Moray before I can explain the truth of the matter. The innkeeper tells me there hae been more troubles along the border the past two weeks. I dinna know if they are involved wi’
her
or nae. Damn the woman! Could she nae just keep Bothwell as a lover, the way her mam did wi’ Patrick Hepburn?”
“How could she hide her belly?” Annabella said as she pulled off her cap and unpinned her braid. “She was a widow, and Knox would hae pilloried her publicly again. ’Tis nae like the old days, when a queen might be indiscreet privily.” Annabella went to a small table where a basin of water and a towel were waiting. She washed her face and her hands.
“What madness that both of these Marys should fall in love with Hepburn men. What is it women see in them that I canna see?” He sat down across from her.
“That’s because ye’re a man,” Annabella said with a giggle. “I watched as he spread charm to every pretty female wi’in his ken, and his charm is genuine. Women wanted to please him just because of his charm. They couldna help themselves, and he couldna help himself.” She laughed. “But I truly believe that he loved the queen, a fact that surely confused him, for I doubt he had ever really loved any woman wi’ all his heart and soul. How tragic that it should be the downfall of them both.”
The earl was astounded by his wife’s acuity. His respect for her grew. “Aye,” he said. “I believe ye’re correct, but it was up to the queen to consider Scotland first, and her own heart second. Her poor wee bairn, being raised by Erskine and his cold wife. A good man and a good woman, yet they lack the kindness needed for a bairn.”
Annabella sighed. “I know,” she said. “But after her great disappointment in Darnley I suspect it was very difficult for her to resist James Hepburn. I dinna know what it is about the Hepburn men, but they hae always been as fascinating to women as are the Stewarts. Can ye imagine what a child of Mary Stuart and James Hepburn would have been like, Angus? I wonder if God has not spared Scotland.”
He smiled at her, thinking as he did that his wife was indeed very wise. “Aye,” he agreed. “God may have indeed spared Scotland.”
While she spoke she had carved him a goodly piece of beef, and piled his plate with some mussels in a mustard sauce, fresh peas, a bit of breast from a fat goose, bread, and cheese. She filled his goblet with rich red wine, then placed it before him. “Eat, my lord,” she said. “It looks and smells delicious. ’Tis the first good meal we have shared in several weeks.” She then attended to her own plate, which contained a similar array of food. They both ate with a good appetite.
A small tartlet of apple had been left on the sideboard. When Annabella had cleared their plates away, she divided the little sweet, covering it with clotted cream. She gave him the larger portion, for she knew how much her husband enjoyed this particular treat. He devoured it quickly, and she gave him what remained upon her plate. With a guilty smile he accepted it, and ate it quickly.
“Did ye think I would take it back?” Annabella teased him as he wolfed down what remained of the sweet.
He laughed. “Matthew, James, and I always squabbled over the last bit of a treat, and usually while we did Jean snatched it for herself,” the earl told his wife.
“Roosters do a lot of crowing,” Annabella teased him.
He chuckled, then, reaching across the small table, took her hand in his. He kissed each finger in its turn. “I hae come to love ye so greatly that were I ever to lose ye, madam, I think my life would be bleak forevermore.”
Annabella felt herself near tears with his passionate declaration, but then he continued.
“
But
, if I should ever hae to leave Duin again, and ye follow after me when I hae told ye nay, I swear I shall lock ye in the castle’s highest tower, and never let ye roam free again! Do ye understand me, madam? When I tell ye nay, I mean nay.”
“Ye would hae never known I followed ye had those villains nae attempted murder,” Annabella said. “I could nae let them kill ye.”
“I was awake, madam, for I was expecting such an attempt. Do ye think me such a fool that I was nae aware I was being followed? Actually I thought there were three of them, particularly when ye decided to remain after the meal,” he told her.
Annabella giggled.
“Ye find this amusing?” he said to her, standing up.
“Aye, I do. Ye thought I was an assassin when I was really there to protect ye.” And Annabella began to laugh. “Did I really look like an assassin?”
“Assassins dinna hae a
look
,” he said, coming around the table and pulling her into his arms. The feel of her sweetly rounded body against him, her plain little face looking up at him with those trusting gray eyes of hers, the subtle fragrance of her, set his senses reeling. This was
his
woman, and she had put herself in danger for him.
God’s blood!
Was there a more fortunate man alive in Scotland today than he was? All he wanted to do was get them safely home to Duin to live their lives in peace, and never have to leave it again.
Annabella had grown silent, watching the play of strong emotions crossing his outrageously handsome face. What good luck had brought her this wonderful man who loved her? “I think, Angus,” she said softly, “that it is past time ye kissed me and took me to bed, my dearest lord.” Her fingers caressed his cheek.
He smiled suddenly, and nodded. Then his mouth took hers in a slow, deep kiss even while he picked her up and took her into their bedchamber. Together they undressed each other by the light of the fire in the hearth before crawling between the lavender-scented sheets. Annabella sighed with happiness as he stroked the length of her body.
His touch sent little shivers of delight through her. She lay on her belly while his lips pressed little kisses down the length of her spine. She lay on her back as his hands caressed her breasts and belly. His mouth suckled slowly at her nipples until they were sore, but she was so filled with pleasure that it didn’t matter.
Finally he whispered in her ear as his big body began to cover hers, “I need to be inside of you, sweetheart.”
She felt his length and thickness against her thigh. Her legs opened for him, wrapped themselves about his torso as he pushed himself slowly, slowly into her wet and waiting sheath, and she groaned as he filled her entirely. “Oh, Angus!” She sighed, clinging to him, her nails digging lightly into his broad shoulders.
Jesu
, he thought. She felt so damned good. His cock was throbbing with his need for her. The wall of her sheath tightened about him, clenching and unclenching, until he cried out low. He began to move upon her, slowly at first, but as his lust increased, faster and faster, deeper, deeper, deeper. He could feel the crisis approaching for them both, and struggled not to race ahead of her.
Then Annabella said hotly in his ear, “Now! Now!
Now!
”
His creamy tribute burst forth and their love juices combined, leaving them both satisfied and breathless. “God’s blood, how I love ye!” he whispered hoarsely.
“Nae as much as I love ye!” she whispered back.
They slept, exhausted, for the next several hours, but, aware of their need for haste, he awoke just before first light to arise, wash, and dress. Only when he was fully clothed did he awaken his naked wife, who lay sprawled upon her belly amid the tangled sheets, her limbs askew, her sable plait undone and spread across her upper torso. Even clothed he found he was tempted to climb back into the bed and take her again. Instead he shook her gently. “Wake up, sweetheart. We’ve got miles to go before we reach Duin.”
Annabella protested sleepily. Then with a little groan she opened her eyes and rolled over onto her back. “Come back to bed, my lord,” she entreated him. “The light is nae even tinting the skies yet.”
“We’re leaving at first light,” he told her. “Get up now, Annabella. Are ye nae anxious to get home? We have several days’ riding ahead of us before we do.”
With another small groan she pulled herself up, swung her legs over the bed, and stood. Her eyes were closed again, but she smiled when he said he would leave her to her toilette.
Annabella heard him close the bedchamber door. She quickly washed herself and pulled on her garments. Then, sitting back upon the bed, she brushed her hair out with the brush she pulled from her saddlebag. Her hair felt sticky with salt from her two sea voyages, and she could feel the dust of the summer roads in her scalp. She brushed and brushed until her head and long tresses felt a little better. Then she quickly braided the long, dark hair into a thick plait, securing it with a small scrap of red ribbon. She left it hanging. Riding with her husband, she no longer had a need to conceal her identity.