Snow Raven (37 page)

Elizabeth tolerated Sir Jasper, but did not bear the fondness for him as she did her “sheep.” She was not above boxing a knave’s ears, either, and had once given Gilbert Talbot, the Earl of Shrewbury’s son, a sharp rap on the forehead when he glanced into the queen’s bedchamber and saw her in her nightcap.

One eve at Hatfield House, Sir Jasper had ingratiated himself enough that Her Majesty permitted him the honor of accompanying her in a stately pavane. By this time, Lady Rich had also rejoined Court, though Merry noted the woman avoided Wickham. At one point during the procession, Sir Jasper tread upon the queen’s train, and Elizabeth was quick to react. She rapped him smartly on the knuckles with her feather fan where he gripped her arm, and Sir Jasper flushed with rage. He snatched the fan from her grasp and flung it on the floor, and while onlookers gaped in horror, he crushed it with his heel. Elizabeth Tudor, pale but proud, pointed a shaking finger at the offender.

“One more move, sirrah, and ’tis the Tower where you will finish this pavane.”

Sir Jasper scrambled to offer reparation, having obviously succumbed in a flash of hot rage. Merry wondered if a similar loss of control might have provoked his attack on Lady Rich, and perhaps Blair as well. Yet the lack of bruises on Blair’s body was mystifying. Hertha and Ran had mentioned nothing about such evidence.

Merry noticed the queen’s nostrils flared with anger, her eyes flashing, even after Wickham’s apology. Mayhap now was her chance. With her head held high, Merry stepped forward and stated, “’Tis well you bear a high title, Your Grace. Else you should be the recipient of far worse than a groveling little speech.”

Sir Jasper glared at Merry, and Elizabeth’s fine eyebrows arched. “By the Mass! What sayeth you, Lady Lindsay? What of the kiss of peace?”

“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty. I cannot conceal my ire any longer. Not when the man who accuses my lord husband of nefarious deeds is guilty of the like.”

She looked for Lady Rich to come forward, but was not surprised when the woman quickly melted into the throng. No mind. She would lay her cards on the table, let Elizabeth judge for herself. Lady Penelope could always be coerced or forced under oath at a later date. Right now, she had to bluff through the inquisition. Fortunately she had always been a sharp at cards.

Meeting Sir Jasper’s glare levelly, Merry said, “I am aware of the circumstances of your relationship with the former Lady Lindsay, sir.”

“Madness,” Sir Jasper snapped.

“Aye, I would term it thusly. Certainly, cuckolding The Wolf of Badanloch could not be considered an exercise in great wisdom.”

Elizabeth Tudor listened intently, her gray eyes keen upon one speaker, then the other. She contrasted Merry’s firm demeanor with Sir Jasper’s flushed face and trembling hands, and came to her own conclusion. Though she disliked such scenes, considered them boorish and unworthy of her Court, she knew Merry took her duties very seriously and would not have countermanded an order to make peace unless she was grievously injured.

“I’truth, what prompts such charges?” Elizabeth demanded.

Merry tore her challenging gaze from Sir Jasper, and lowered it before the queen. “Lady Rich, Your Grace. The latest victim of his wrath.”

Elizabeth looked surprised, but before the queen could summon Lady Rich, Merry added, “The lady in question has already fled, Your Majesty. I believe you will find her at Essex House. ’Tis more to this tale than meets the eye. Much more.”

Sir Jasper spoke quickly. “Your Grace, I beseech you, do not fall prey to the clever speeches of those who would smear my good name. ’Tis an outrage, this woman who I once betrothed in all good conscience should turn on me now, to protect her kidnapper.” His grimace turned into a sneer, ripping all the way down Merry’s rigid frame. She met him squarely on.

“Shall I tell Her Grace what you said and did to Lady Rich in detail, or perchance d’you wish the lady involved to share the sordid tale in private chambers?”

Pale gray eyes fixed on her malevolently. “Say whatever y’wish, madam,” he retorted. “And be damned for it.”

Sir Jasper spun on his heel, thrust through the gaping crowd. Merry glanced at the queen, but Elizabeth made no move as yet. Rather the queen appeared thoughtful.

“I will have a word with Lady Rich, y’may be sure of it,” she told Merry at last. “Yet this does not alter the grave charges brought against Lord Lindsay. Alack, it might lend further credence to m’border warrant, if your lord has such true motive for making Wickham’s life hell.”

Merry nodded. “I thought of that, Your Majesty. ’Twas a risk I was willing to take, rather than remaining silent. If Ran ’tis guilty of such crimes, he must pay the consequences as any who flout the laws, Scottish or English.”

Elizabeth regarded her a moment, then nodded gravely.

“Yea, Madame Merry, you have grown up, indeed. Methinks you represent the House of Lindsay well.”

Merry smiled. “I am pleased you find it so, Your Grace.”

* * *

SIR JASPER SLAMMED THE door behind him, causing the woman reclining on the fringed velvet chaise longue to jump.

“How did you get in?” Lady Rich scrambled to her feet, clasping her silken robe closed with her fist. Her dark hair tumbled about her lush figure. “I ordered I was not to be disturbed!”

He heard the vein of fear running through her shrill voice, and smiled cruelly. “’Tis pointless to hide from me, Penelope. Even your servants flee when I crook my little finger. There are none to defend you now, not with your precious bastard brother floundering about somewhere in Ireland.”

She stared at him, eyes wild and dark, her breast heaving with emotion. “If you touch me, Bess will hear of it!” she cried. “I will go straight to Whitehall, I swear it.”

“Bitch! D’you think I care now?” he snarled, sweeping a vase off a table with his fist. It shattered at her feet, while she sobbed with fear. “I have nothing to lose since you betrayed me. Your glaring fault, besides your vanity, is your greedy nature, m’dear. If you had accepted the reasonable sum I offered for your silence, you would be peacefully slumbering at this moment.”

“Like Blair?” she hurled back shakily, her stance defiant despite her terror.

Jasper admired Penelope; she was a shallow, selfish, cold-blooded beauty he understood quite well. She was the perfect mistress for a dark-soured man like him, until she questioned his decisions. Shared her concerns with Ran’s little bride.

Reminded of her betrayal, his initial flush of rage turned to calculating ice. He took a step towards her, and Penelope shrank against the velvet-flocked wall of her boudoir.

“Jesu, nay …” she whispered.

Jasper thrilled at the sound of her whimpers, her eloquent pleas. He did so like to hear women beg. The little servant girl he had mounted at Falkland, the ones he ruled at Braidwood with a mixture of terror and generosity, another saucy blond wench … he had lost count long ago, but of them all, Blair had been the best. Her sky-blue eyes, hazy with passion as she writhed upon his aroused body, still had the power to make him hard. He felt his loins stir now, remembering the wild, frantic coupling in the glen, the stables, Braidwood’s bedchamber… wherever and whenever he could shove up Blair’s skirts and tumble her.

Aye, he had loved her … as much as he could love any woman, and she was a proud, canny Highlands lass, half bitch and half angel, too much for any man. Jasper raged with jealousy when she wed The Wolf of Badanloch.

Despite her promiscuous nature, Blair wanted no less than a wedding ring and a title to ease the taint of her own bastardy. Jasper had no intention of marrying the slut, no matter how enticing her wares. He could not bear the thought of her standing mother to Wickham heirs, not when she was of dubious birth herself and willing to lift her skirts for any randy knave.
His
wife would be a virgin of good birth and generous dower, not some Highland bawd.

When Jasper refused to marry Blair, she wed Ranald Lindsay in a gesture of purest spite. Knowing she carried Jasper’s seed, she still held sway over her former lover, and taunted him mercilessly. If she could not have Braidwood, Blair told him, she would have a third of his annual rents and tithes. Blair had only to whisper in her lord husband’s ear, and Jasper knew his life was forfeit at any time. The Wolf would not be merciful. It was a frenzy of frustration and rage which finally pushed him over the edge, the last time Blair visited Braidwood.

How sweet she looked, garbed in turquoise purled satin, cradling her swelling belly in silent reminder of the power she wielded. Jasper seethed, simultaneously lusting and loathing, longing to wrap his hands around her fragile ivory neck even as he kissed her fiercely.

“I do believe,” Blair had said, “yer a wee bit behind in yer monthly tithes, m’laird.”

Her blue eyes gleamed with a mocking light, and something in Jasper snapped. The last thing he remembered was flying at her, but in the last seconds he restrained himself, and felt a calculating calm descend eerily.

He had clutched Blair by the upper shoulders as comprehension slowly had dawned in her loch-blue eyes; she seemed resigned to her fate, or mayhap he imagined it. He crushed his lips down on hers, one final time, weeping with fury and lust as his hand tore the Maclean badge from her shawl and drove the pin beneath her hair into the delicate point between her skull and neck.

Looking at Penelope now, trapped sniveling in the corner, he felt a similar frisson of anger, though not nearly as intense. He did not love this woman as he had loved Blair. Her betrayal was a vicious blow, but nothing he could not return in kind. Penelope’s eyes widened. She knew, even before he raised a hand. She did not try to flee.

Chapter Thirty-Two

“IF I MUST, I will sell every last bit of jewelry I own, and buy a nag myself.”

Merry regarded her uncle defiantly from across the desk, and after a heavy sigh, Sir Christopher Tanner shook his head with resignation. “I cannot countenance the notion of you and Nell dashing off without a proper full escort, m’dear. Remember what happened last time.”

“Aye, but I have no choice. Gil already returned to Scotland, you are indisposed at Court, and ’tis urgent I reach Auchmull before disaster strikes.”

“There is naught you can do, Merry, if Lord Lindsay is involved in the border raids. Plead with him, mayhap, but he does not seem particularly inclined to listen to an Englishwoman. ’Tis far safer and wiser if you remain here until the queen’s men have investigated the matter further.”

“Leaving Ran to face Wickham without warning?” Merry’s eyes flashed and Kit realized the depth of her emotion for her husband. She was fiercely protective of a man who did not even love her. He worried her loyalty was misplaced, but he could not deny Wickham had proven an odious fellow with a devastating history. A few days ago, Lady Rich was discovered at Essex House by her maid, badly beaten to the point of unconsciousness, but by the time word reached the queen, Wickham had fled Court. Back to his stronghold in the north, no doubt, or else into hiding where one of his evil cronies could shelter him.

“Nevertheless, ’tis a matter between Lindsay and Bess Tudor now,” Kit chided her gently, setting down his feather pen. “Bess has heard the worst of Wickham and is surely prepared to deal with the man as she sees fit. You’ll only endanger yourself and perhaps Ranald as well if you interfere.”

“Interfere!” Merry exclaimed. “’Twas those two who dragged me into their feud in the first place. Need I remind you, Uncle Kit, ’twas Ran who took advantage of my accident. An accident which resulted in the utter devastation of your finest coach.”

Kit chuckled, and Merry regarded him with frustration. He and Aunt Isobel had warmly welcomed Gilbert, the very rogue responsible for the loss of their finest possession. Merry knew the fine coach had taken years of saving and excruciating service at Court to obtain. Her uncle said Ran had already sent payment, which he promptly declined. She did not understand his reasoning or lack of anger.

“Well,” Kit said with visible amusement, “your new family has already handily dispensed with my best rig, and I fear I still require the services of the old, so the old-fashioned way must serve.”

“A wheelbarrow?” Merry laughed despite her agitation over the situation.

Kit’s green eyes twinkled. “What, and ruin those fine gowns of yours? Never … nay, I propose you borrow one of my swiftest mounts, and accept my personal escort in addition to Hugo’s. Doubtless if I do not go along with this mad impulse, you will slip off in the night like a wraith bent upon sheer mischief and do so anyway.”

Merry nodded. “Aye, quite true. Will Her Majesty spare you ere long, though? She seems agitated without her ‘fox.’”

“My dear Merry, at my age, I fear I no longer quail at the thought of Bess’s temper.” Kit chuckled and rose from his desk, abandoning accounting for the far greater lure of adventure. He extended an arm to her in an exaggerated, gallant gesture. “Shall we away, Lady Lindsay? Before dear Bess sets the royal hounds on this fox’s tail, I should like to make the border, at least.”

* * *

NELL SAT BESIDE HUGO in a cart during the journey north, responsible for overseeing her mistress’s baggage and tending the baby. She and Hugo chattered idly about the winter weather and the fine spring to come. Nell was aware of the depth of Hugo’s interest in her when he asked her why she had never remarried after Fergus’s death.

“I’m no spring chicken,” she said, modestly lowering her gaze, but she was secretly pleased by his question.

“Neither are ye an old hag, Nell,” Hugo said, cracking the whip smartly over the team of mules.

“Why, thank ye, Hugo Sumner. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“As ye should, woman,” he growled under his breath. Her nonchalant air piqued his interest more. He had been fascinated with Nell the first moment he laid eyes on her at Auchmull. “Hae ye found no fellow ye fancy, then?”

Nell pursed her lips as if deep in thought. “Well, one,” she admitted at last, amused when she saw his hands visibly tighten on the reins. “He dinna seem to be all that interested in me, though.”