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had thought of him and wanted to show him more of her father’s lands. Although it wasn’t too difficult to see how much he missed his own lands, his home—Scotland. He felt as if he was caught in a nightmare and couldn’t wake up. Then again, he always felt that way when he traveled to England.
    â€œWas your wife able to pull her favor with the king and grant us an earlier audience? Mayhap he’ll see us on the morrow, and we’ll be able to take our leave with haste,” said Ian.
    Aloofness showed in Ruairi’s face. “Ye know verra well how the king enjoys watching the Highland lairds suffer. He’ll keep us waiting for as long as possible, only to torture us. ’Tis his way of trying to get us to heel like dogs. Best ye get used to that now.”
    â€œDamn.”
    â€œMayhap ye can take that opportunity to seek out a willing lass or two, Munro,” said Fagan. “Then again, it may take ye that long to find just one.”
    â€œBastard.”
    Fagan chuckled. “Aye. Dinna fash. We brought plenty of whisky, and we’ll be back in Scotland before ye know it.”
    No sooner did Ian open his mouth to tell Fagan that he didn’t believe a word he said when the coach stopped. Elizabeth opened the door and stepped down from the carriage.
    â€œI need to search my trunk,” she called to them. “I think I forgot my silk slippers.”
    What Ian wouldn’t give to be home again.
    * * *
    The men certainly weren’t pleased with her, but they were not that far from Scadbury Manor. They could have easily turned around if Elizabeth had forgotten the slippers that Ravenna had given her to match her gown. Fortunately, they did not need to return.
    Ruairi and Fagan returned the trunk to the carriage and secured the bindings as Ian continued to scowl at her. The man could be irritated with her all he wanted. She’d be making her first appearance at court. Her clothes needed to be in perfect order, and she refused to be the one who tarnished the Walsingham family name. She wanted to make her sisters, uncle, and her mother and father proud.
    It wasn’t long before she once again sat in the coach and nestled into the seat. With the sound of hoofbeats and the gentle, rhythmic movement, she should’ve been able to fall asleep, but she couldn’t. She was wide awake and eager to experience all that court had to offer.
    The hours dragged, and one mile faded into the next. Being confined in the carriage was suffocating enough, especially when she had no one to talk with to pass the time. They’d stopped along the way to rest the horses, but every waking moment managed to feel eternal.
    Elizabeth’s mood turned buoyant when they finally arrived at London Bridge, roughly the middle between Scadbury Manor and Hampton Court Palace. At least they were getting closer. Large buildings sat on top almost the entire length of the magnificent structure. She stared in awe, resolving never to undervalue the skills of a mason.
    When they reached the end of the bridge, a gasp escaped her, and her body stiffened in shock. She closed her eyes, trying to banish the image of the two heads impaled on long spikes as a warning to all those who conspired against the realm. She supposed there was a reason the end of the bridge was named Traitors’ Gate.
    Her fingers tensed on her lap, and her mind was consumed with doubts and fears. Although she was eager to attend court, she ought to remember that men and women of great power and influence would also be in attendance.
    Ravenna and Grace were right.
    Elizabeth needed to be careful, praying her head wouldn’t be joining the other two on the road they’d just passed.
    The sun was starting to set. They’d traveled the entire day, and the gates of the palace still weren’t in sight. She gazed out of the carriage for the hundredth time, watching pieces of wood floating in the strong currents of the River