Read Online Snow Raven by Patricia McAllister - Free Book Online

considered his words. It was true, Elizabeth was renowned for her vile temper. Like the proverbial adder, she often struck, blindly and without any particular target. Merry knew the queen must be incensed already by her failure to appear at Whitehall by the appointed hour, and once her slippers set foot in the place, she would be fair game to royal wrath.
    Merry shuddered. She had witnessed firsthand what damage Tudor temper might do, with the executions of Mary Queen of Scots and others. Her own father had narrowly escaped beheading on Tower Green. One did not toy with the fierce Tudor monarchs. Even a favorite such as Devereux might fall with the simple expiration of royal grace.
    “’Tis a point of consideration, to be sure,” she said, aware of him awaiting her response. “Yet how worse her wrath, upon discovering I avoided a lecture by fleeing north with a stranger? And a man at that? Faith, sirrah, you should know by now Her Grace does not tolerate any sort of scandal among the ranks of her ladies.”
    “Naturally I have taken that into consideration,” Ranald answered. “The accident provides more than ample excuse for any erratic behavior. There are also three other witnesses, besides ourselves, who can attest the vehicle was damaged irreparably. Perhaps Her Majesty’s position will soften when she hears your desire to meet your betrothed exceeded that of personal comfort.”
    Despite her cross mood, Merry chuckled. If only Lindsay knew! She was accounted a spoiled chit in her own family, and a cheerful but exacting taskmistress at Court. Her tiring woman, Jane, oft remarked her mistress would not so much as set foot in the hall on the days the servants emptied the slop buckets. True enough, Merry tended toward the fastidious end of the scale and preferred creature comforts to rough accommodations. Right now she wanted nothing more than to soak in a hot tub for hours, then sit curled up in her favorite chair before a blazing hearth whilst Jane brushed out her hair and rubbed it with a square of silk until it shone like crimson wine.
    She sighed, realizing it was too late to argue over which direction they were headed. Already they had traveled a goodly distance, and truth to tell, she was more than a little curious about meeting Sir Jasper. It would not bode well to turn up on her betrothed’s doorstep bedraggled and exhausted, however, and Merry wracked her mind for the solution. Mayhap Falcon’s Lair. Nay, she decided, Kat and her husband deserved their privacy after months of painful separation, and besides Merry had no desire to see her hard work all undone. Doubtless the moment she had left, the lackadaisical servants slipped into their cozy procrastination again.
    “How far is your own residence from Braidwood, milord?” Merry asked, forgetting his request she not adopt a formal title of address.
    The arm resting about her waist tightened, as if in silent rebuke. “Not very far.” She heard him inhale deeply, as if he might say something more. Yet the silence weighed like a hundred stone between them. She quietly, yet firmly, began again.
    “Would you estimate within three days’ ride?”
    “Aye.”
    “Perhaps your lady wife would not find an unexpected guest too vexing?”
    Merry sensed, rather than saw, tension rippling throughout his broad frame. For a moment, she half expected him to hurl her bodily from Uar’s saddle. Though she did not understand the source of such a vehement reaction, she could hardly mistake it.
    “I live alone at Auchmull, but for kinsmen and servants.”
    “Oh.” Merry sought for the appropriate words, instinctively grasping the underlying message that she was not to pursue the matter any further. “I trust some of the retainers are female?”
    “Enough to safeguard your reputation, aye.” A hint of amusement colored his tone at last, and Merry relaxed. “I take it you would like to attend to some manner of … ahhh … restoration before you meet your future