“Aye, my lord, I’ll see to it at once,” the captain responded.
Several hours later a man-at-arms came to report that a rider had been spotted on the horizon coming north. The Earl of Duin followed the man up the stairs and finally up a ladder to the roof of his castle. There on the heights, in a driving wind coming off the sea, he stood for the next hour watching the horseman come, and he did indeed make an obvious effort to avoid the castle, instead turning toward Matthew Ferguson’s house.
Angus finally came down from the heights and called for his horse. With two men-at-arms accompanying him, he rode to Matthew’s house. “Check his stables for a weary and lathered mount,” he instructed the men-at-arms. Then, without another word, he went into his brother’s home. He stood silently in the entrance to the little hall for several long moments. At a trestle a stranger was seated in earnest conversation with Matthew as he ate.
The Earl of Duin stepped into the hall, making his presence known as he greeted his younger sibling. “Good afternoon, Matthew,” he said.
Matthew Ferguson jumped up from the bench where he had been seated. There was guilt written all over his face. “Angus!” he exclaimed. “What brings ye here?”
“The stream of riders heading to yer house these last few weeks,” the earl replied dryly. “What mischief hae ye gotten yerself into, brother? Is it the mischief that I expressly forbade ye to involve yerself in? Is that why yer wife left ye, taking yer bairn wi’ her? Who is this man who eats at yer board, Matthew? Do ye even know his name?”
“I had to help!” Matthew exclaimed.
The Earl of Duin’s face grew dark with his anger. “Nay!” he thundered. “Ye dinna hae to help. Yer disobedience hae endangered us all. Dinna ye understand, Matthew? Ye are consorting wi’ rebels. Engaging in treasonous conduct.”
“How can helping Scotland’s rightful queen be treasonous?” Matthew demanded.
“Scotland hae no queen, ye thick dolt! Scotland hae a king. His Majesty James, the sixth of that name,” the earl said angrily. Then he turned to the man still eating at the trestle. “Finish yer meal and then be gone back from whence ye came. I’ll take the packet ye carry first, however.”
The messenger stood up. He was almost as tall as Angus Ferguson, and looked him directly in the eye. “’Tis nae for ye, my lord, but bound for Dumbarton Castle.”
“I know where it goes, but ’twill nae get there through my lands. I’m nae above throwing ye in my dungeons, man. Now hand me yer packet so I may destroy it and rid my foolish brother’s house of treason. Tell yer masters in England that neither Duin Castle nor the house of its steward will be open to them, ever. My brother hae defied my direct orders to nae consort wi’ the Queen’s Men. I told William Hamilton nay, and I meant it. Whether the Hamiltons and my brother wish to accept it, these actions are treasonous. The Fergusons of Duin will nae involve themselves in this treason.”
The messenger looked the Earl of Duin over. He noted the dirk in his belt, and he could see the earl was a man used to handling a weapon. Though he considered himself one of the Queen’s Men, his first loyalty was to himself. It wasn’t worth getting killed or maimed over a single message. He had no idea what was in it, but the Hamiltons would have to get it to its destination another way. Reaching into his shirt, he pulled the packet containing the message out, handing it to Angus Ferguson.
The earl took it, then, turning to his brother, said, “I’ll deal wi’ ye later. Ye’re forbidden the castle until I call for ye to come, Matthew.”
“Angus . . .”
The earl gave his younger brother a hard look, and left the little hall.
Angus and the two men-at-arms rode back to the castle. He ordered the drawbridge up as soon as they crossed it. His anger with his younger sibling was burning white-hot. Never had Matthew questioned his judgment before, or disobeyed him. His brother had grown restless and reckless of late, and he didn’t understand why that was. Even Annabella’s little sister had disapproved of his actions, and wisely removed herself and her bairn from the stone house Matthew had built for her. And that was another thing: Why had Agnes not told them what was going on instead of simply coming to Duin for safety’s sake?
Annabella greeted him as he came into his own hall. “What has happened?”
He told her, asking when he finished, “Where is yer sister? This is why she left him, and she was wise to do so, but she might hae told us the mischief he was up to, yet she did not.” He called to a servant, “Fetch the lady Agnes to me.”
“I believe she was torn between her loyalties,” Annabella said, seeing his anger was high, and attempting to spare her sister the scolding she was about to get.
“She is the wife of a Ferguson of Duin,” the earl replied in a hard voice. “Her first loyalty must be to Duin itself, and then to Matthew, nae to my brother alone. She came to us for protection while allowing the danger to continue.”
Agnes came into the hall. She was pale and looked frightened. “My lord?” she said in a soft voice. “Ye wished to see me?”
“Why hae ye left my brother?” Angus demanded of her. “The truth now, madam! I’ll hae no shilly-shallying about it.”
“He’s allowed our house to become a stopping point for the Queen’s Men,” Agnes answered. Then she burst into tears. “I told him it was wrong. I told him he endangered us all wi’ his actions, but he would nae listen to me.”
“Aye,” the earl roared, causing the poor lass to tremble where she stood. “Ye told him, but
ye dinna tell me
! Damn it, Agnes, I am Duin! Everyone on these lands defers to me first. Nae to Matthew.
To me!
”
“Angus.” Annabella spoke, putting a restraining hand on her husband’s arm.
He looked into her soft gray eyes. For all her plainness she did bewitch him.
She smiled softly at him. “Angus,” she repeated.
“Oh, verra well,” he said low. Then, turning to his weeping sister-in-law, he told her, “Ye will remain in the castle until I can make certain yer disobedient husband hae nae brought the wrath of the King’s Men upon us. Wi’ luck no one hae noticed yet.”
“Th-thank ye,” Agnes quavered, and without permission or another word she picked up her skirts and fled the hall, sobbing.
The earl took his wife’s hand and led her to the chairs they favored by the blazing hearth. They had eaten earlier, and the hall was quiet now. The twins had been put to bed before their father’s encounter with their pretty aunt. The dogs were sprawled near the two fireplaces. The cat who had occupied Annabella’s chair now jumped into her lap and settled itself comfortably amid her dark green velvet skirts. She stroked it absently.
“I brought back the packet the messenger carried. Let us see what treason it contains before I burn it,” Angus said as he opened the square leather container and drew out a folded and sealed parchment. Undoing the letter, he spread it out on his knees to smooth any creases; then, picking it up, he silently read the contents.
“What does it say?” Annabella asked him.
He looked up at her, his face deadly serious. “They are planning several assassinations,” he told her. “Those who hold or are likely to hold the reins of power for the wee king: Lennox, his grandfather; Moray; the king’s guardians, Erskine and his wife. They believe if they can rid themselves of these few they can bring the queen back into power once again.”
“Erskine and his wife are good folk,” Annabella said. “Perhaps they dinna gie the little king the warmth and love a parent might gie him, but they do their duty by him admirably. Moray is ruthless, but all he hae done to date hae been in the king’s best interest. They hae taken to calling him the good regent. As for Lennox, I hae never liked Darnley’s father. He betrayed Marie de Guise, and took the English queen’s gold, remaining in England for many years. His own wife, though Scots born, was the daughter of the English princess Margaret Tudor and her second husband. His interests are not, I believe, Scotland’s interests. He simply wants the power that would come with being a royal regent. Still, I dinna think they should be murdered. If they are, who knows who will grab the power?” Annabella said. “Who do they say is to be killed first? And when? Ye canna destroy this evidence, but must warn Moray and his counsel.”
“They dinna say,” Angus replied, looking carefully through the message again.
“Would the messenger know?” Annabella wondered aloud.
“Nay, ’tis unlikely he even knows what he carries. He is just a courier for the Hamiltons,” Angus said.
“We must learn the truth,” Annabella replied.
“
We?
” He looked directly at her.
She gave him a saucy grin. “Remember that I make a good lad,” she said.
“I will nae hae ye in danger,” he responded.
“I hae a plan,” she countered calmly.
“Annabella!”
“Angus!”
He laughed. Matthew was right: She was bold, but he couldn’t resist asking her, “What plan, madam? And if I refuse ye, will ye run off as ye did when I went to France?”
“Probably,” she admitted, “but hear my plan first, husband. We must incarcerate the Hamiltons’ messenger for our safety’s sake, after learning from where he came. Then we will ride together to the Hamilton lair, but while ye remain hidden outside of their walls, I will ride in to tell them that their messenger was injured by the time he reached Matthew’s house. I will say he was set upon by bandits, and destroyed the contents of the packet rather than allow it to fall into the wrong hands. I will bring the empty packet wi’ me to prove my veracity. I will say that if they want me to, I will take another message to Dumbarton. That Matthew sent me to them. Riding boldly into their stronghold and having the leather case wi’ me will prove the truth of my tale.”
“If they send the same message we will still nae learn the time and place or the first of their victims,” Angus said. “That is what we must discover.”
“I dinna believe they would be informing Dumbarton unless the time was near to begin implementing their wicked scheme,” Annabella noted. “Take the courier now, and then let us wait a few days before questioning him.
Or
better, I could simply bring the message that ye hold to Dumbarton myself. Perhaps I could learn something there.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Angus Ferguson told his wife. “What if ye were caught?”
“Someone is going to die, my lord. And Scotland is going to be thrown into chaos again. We hae the ability to prevent that, and we must.”
“We could send Matthew to Dumbarton,” the earl suggested. “He needs to repent of his disobedience.”
“Forgie me, my dear lord, but yer brother can no longer be trusted,” Annabella said bluntly. “His heart is good, I am sure, and he would go wi’ the best of intentions, but then he would be swept up in the patriotic fever of those who wish to restore the queen. He would betray ye, betray us, and then he would repent, but it would be too late.”
“I could go,” the earl said.
“Nay,” Annabella replied, shaking her head. “The Hamiltons may have informed those at Dumbarton of yer refusal to help. They would nae believe yer change of heart. There is nothing for it but that the lad I can be must go.”
“Nay! I canna allow it, sweetheart,” he told her.
“Dumbarton is easier than having to find the Hamiltons’ hidey-hole,” Annabella said, as if he had not spoken at all. “Come, my lord; the hour grows late. It is past time we were abed, Angus.” She stood up, and the cat on her lap hissed at being displaced once more. It stalked off, its ears turned back.
“Jesu, woman, are ye attempting to seduce me?” he demanded of her.
“Oh, may I?” she teased him, and, laughing, took his hand to lead him upstairs.
“I will not be ensorcelled by yer charms, Annabella, many as they may be,” he said sternly, but he did not pull away. Indeed, he was smiling. How he loved his lass!
“Nay, nay, my lord, of course not.” She whirled about, standing upon her tiptoes, and kissed his mouth a quick kiss.
“I will take a hazel switch and beat ye,” he threatened.
“And if I am deserving, ye should, my lord, ye should,” Annabella agreed.
They were on the stairs now. He stopped and pushed her against the wall, his hand sliding beneath her velvet skirts along her silken thigh. He pressed his big body against hers as his fingers tangled in the dark curls covering her mons. “Oh, ye are deserving, my love, of a great deal,” he told her. “And I intend on seeing ye get all ye deserve.” A finger slipped through her nether lips to touch her love button, to rub it teasingly.
Annabella drew a sharp breath. She loved it when he touched her there. She wiggled against the ball of his finger. She was already moist, and growing wetter with the teasing pressure and friction of that finger. “Angus,” she moaned against his lips.
The finger was withdrawn from the sensitive nub, leaving it tingling but not at all satisfied.
“Oh, nay, madam,” he said softly into her ear. “Ye will nae hae yer way wi’ me so easily before I hae had a full measure of my own back.” He took his hand from beneath her skirts and continued up the stairs, this time leading her through her apartments and into her bedchamber. Turning her back to him, he unlaced her gown, pushing it down to her waist. His hands reached around to undo the ribbons of her chemise, which he peeled away over her shoulders and down to meet the fabric of the gown. Then, holding her by her shoulders, he bent to slowly trace a line of kisses down her backbone.
Annabella sighed, feeling his warm lips moving across her flesh.
His hands dropped from her shoulders to cup her breasts, which he fondled at his leisure. Now his hands were moving to clasp her waist so he might lift her from her slippers and the pile of fabric that had covered her glorious body. She was naked but for her stockings with their silk ribbon garters.
Free of entanglement, Annabella turned about and began to undo the sleeveless leather jerkin that he wore. She unlaced his shirt, pulling it from him, and then, bending to press kisses all over his chest and torso, she slipped to her knees before him. She could feel his various pulse points jumping beneath her lips as she moved lower and lower. Her hands worked to undo his breeks, beneath which he wore naught. Her breath caught briefly in her throat at the sight of his wonderful manhood. She gave his taut buttocks a quick fondle as, now fully kneeling, she reached for him.