Read Online Winning the Highlander's Heart by Terry Spear - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Terry Spear
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straight away.
“Milady,” he tried again, “disconcerting news arrived from your castle. You are right, but I think it best if you return to your chamber and—”
She snatched the missive away from him and hastily read through the message until she got to the point of the matter. “Laird Thompson...murdered,” she said under her breath. Her knees grew weak, and she grabbed for Malcolm’s arm, cursing herself silently before the hall grew dark and the men’s frantic voices faded away.
* * *
When her mind cleared, Anice stared up at the blue linen canopy cloaking the bed. The fragrance of lavender, tansy, and lady’s bedstraw stirred from the mattress when she tried to rise. Mai grabbed her arm and lay her back down. “Rest, milady.”
Malcolm stood nearby, his face grave.
“Do not look at me like that, Laird MacNeill. I am no’ a wilting flower.”
A corner of his mouth tugged up and his eyes sparkled with mirth.
She looked away from him, annoyed. Being a Highlander, she was sturdy, rugged. Not like the English ladies who swooned at the sight of their king. Mayhap it was the strain of being at Arundel. She would not react so badly were she at her own castle.
She swallowed hard. Who would do such a terrible thing to her treasurer? “We will investigate this matter fully upon our return.”
“Aye, Lady Anice.”
With a softened stance, she faced Malcolm. “I am sorry, Laird MacNeill. I...well, I...” She turned away from him as tears threatened to spill. Not wanting him to see she was so easily overcome with emotions, she motioned for him to leave, her throat constricting too quickly for her to choke out the words.
Mai patted her hand while Malcolm’s footsteps padded out of the room.
“Is she all right?” Angus asked from the hallway.
“Aye, she is a sturdy lass,” Malcolm said, which pleased her no end.
She did not feel like a sturdy lass though. Had Malcolm said the words to make her feel better? No matter. She appreciated them just the same.
“Mayhap we should stay here, milady, until the brigand or brigands are caught.” Mai brushed Anice’s hair out with long, sweeping strokes.
Anice gave her an irritated look. How could Mai say that when the king proved to be such a problem?
Mai said, “I know what you are thinking, milady, but there are worse dangers than him.”
“I am not afraid of going home.”
“Aye.” Mai cleared her throat. “You should not have kissed Laird MacNeill, milady.”
“You have said so already several times. Did you know you are repeating yourself overmuch lately? If I did not know better I would say you are getting old.”
Mai chuckled. “You may think to replace me with a younger lady.”
“Nay. Sometimes I need be reminded of things.”
Mai cocked a brow. “Aye, like you should not have kissed the Highlander.”
“No’ that thing.”
Mai shook her head. “He is your steward, milady. It would not bode well if ye were kissing him in the gardens back home. The king has other marital plans for you. They do not include marrying a stubborn Scotsman.”
“Think you I would be better off with a Norman laird, Mai? Your husband was Scottish.”
“Aye, that is why anything else would be better, milady.”
Anice laughed, knowing Mai was teasing. “Your husband was a good man.”
“Aye, especially good with bairn.” Mai seemed to be saddened by the memory, having lost her own two children to sickness early on and then her husband on the Crusade.
Anice reached over and took hold of Mai’s hand and squeezed. “Mayhap we need to find you a husband.”
Mai laughed until tears came to her eyes.
“I jest not. It will be one of my first priorities when we return.” Anice tried to lighten the darkness that surrounded them, not because most of the candles had been snuffed, but for the dangers that lay ahead. Her lady-in-waiting exhibited signs of fear, of
“Milady,” he tried again, “disconcerting news arrived from your castle. You are right, but I think it best if you return to your chamber and—”
She snatched the missive away from him and hastily read through the message until she got to the point of the matter. “Laird Thompson...murdered,” she said under her breath. Her knees grew weak, and she grabbed for Malcolm’s arm, cursing herself silently before the hall grew dark and the men’s frantic voices faded away.
* * *
When her mind cleared, Anice stared up at the blue linen canopy cloaking the bed. The fragrance of lavender, tansy, and lady’s bedstraw stirred from the mattress when she tried to rise. Mai grabbed her arm and lay her back down. “Rest, milady.”
Malcolm stood nearby, his face grave.
“Do not look at me like that, Laird MacNeill. I am no’ a wilting flower.”
A corner of his mouth tugged up and his eyes sparkled with mirth.
She looked away from him, annoyed. Being a Highlander, she was sturdy, rugged. Not like the English ladies who swooned at the sight of their king. Mayhap it was the strain of being at Arundel. She would not react so badly were she at her own castle.
She swallowed hard. Who would do such a terrible thing to her treasurer? “We will investigate this matter fully upon our return.”
“Aye, Lady Anice.”
With a softened stance, she faced Malcolm. “I am sorry, Laird MacNeill. I...well, I...” She turned away from him as tears threatened to spill. Not wanting him to see she was so easily overcome with emotions, she motioned for him to leave, her throat constricting too quickly for her to choke out the words.
Mai patted her hand while Malcolm’s footsteps padded out of the room.
“Is she all right?” Angus asked from the hallway.
“Aye, she is a sturdy lass,” Malcolm said, which pleased her no end.
She did not feel like a sturdy lass though. Had Malcolm said the words to make her feel better? No matter. She appreciated them just the same.
“Mayhap we should stay here, milady, until the brigand or brigands are caught.” Mai brushed Anice’s hair out with long, sweeping strokes.
Anice gave her an irritated look. How could Mai say that when the king proved to be such a problem?
Mai said, “I know what you are thinking, milady, but there are worse dangers than him.”
“I am not afraid of going home.”
“Aye.” Mai cleared her throat. “You should not have kissed Laird MacNeill, milady.”
“You have said so already several times. Did you know you are repeating yourself overmuch lately? If I did not know better I would say you are getting old.”
Mai chuckled. “You may think to replace me with a younger lady.”
“Nay. Sometimes I need be reminded of things.”
Mai cocked a brow. “Aye, like you should not have kissed the Highlander.”
“No’ that thing.”
Mai shook her head. “He is your steward, milady. It would not bode well if ye were kissing him in the gardens back home. The king has other marital plans for you. They do not include marrying a stubborn Scotsman.”
“Think you I would be better off with a Norman laird, Mai? Your husband was Scottish.”
“Aye, that is why anything else would be better, milady.”
Anice laughed, knowing Mai was teasing. “Your husband was a good man.”
“Aye, especially good with bairn.” Mai seemed to be saddened by the memory, having lost her own two children to sickness early on and then her husband on the Crusade.
Anice reached over and took hold of Mai’s hand and squeezed. “Mayhap we need to find you a husband.”
Mai laughed until tears came to her eyes.
“I jest not. It will be one of my first priorities when we return.” Anice tried to lighten the darkness that surrounded them, not because most of the candles had been snuffed, but for the dangers that lay ahead. Her lady-in-waiting exhibited signs of fear, of
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