The Intended

Chapter 7-2

“I’ll come back,” Jaime vowed, touching the physician on the arm as she moved toward her swaying cousin.

Before she even reached the door, Jaime could see the glazed look of horror that was fixed on her cousin’s face. The sight was hardly one that Mary was accustomed to. The filthy cell, the blackening blood, the battered and half-n***d body of the injured Malcolm.

“Is he dead?” Mary whispered again, leaning heavily on the door frame. Her face was a white mask.

Jaime realized that her cousin had not heard a word that had been uttered by Graves. Not needing another patient at the moment, Jaime took Mary by the arm and led her into the enclosed yard and out of the physician’s earshot. Standing in the late-afternoon sun, Jaime squeezed Mary’s hand. It took only a few moments for the younger woman to regain most of her composure.

Then, looking at Jaime with eyes wide, Mary started with dismay. “Oh my, Jaime. The blood...your...your cloak. Your hair. Your face.” The young woman, again too upset to talk, flapped her arms like a bird in distress. “Jaime, Edward...and...oh, my! Look at you.”

Jaime took Mary’s hands in hers. “Take a deep breath,” she ordered softly. “You have news of Edward?”

Mary nodded and took not one but a few short breaths.

Jaime waited impatiently for the other woman to regain her composure. A stable boy passed by, carrying two buckets of grain and gawking openly at the two. Horses could be heard, stamping and snorting impatiently to be fed. A cart of feed—pulled by an oxen being led by a tall, stick of a man—creaked into the enclosure from some other part of the series of granaries, smithies, and stables that comprised the stable area. Suddenly, Mary’s attention was captured by the activities going on around them, as if it were a world she was seeing for the first time.

“That’s enough breathing for today,” Jaime said, interrupting her cousin’s study. “What of Edward?”

Jaime knew that although Mary had lived on this estate for most of her life, the past few moments constituted the longest period of time she ever spent in the stables. When they hunted, the grooms brought the horses to the house. Jaime cleared her throat to get the other woman’s attention.

Sheepishly, Mary turned back to her cousin. “Oh,” she exclaimed. “I have news. Lord Surrey has returned from court this afternoon.”

“I wondered. There was a great commotion a little while ago when the horses were brought down.

“Aye, well there’s more. Something has happened. Effie, my wardrobe maid, who has a...well, who is friendly with Surrey’s second groom...a coarse young man whom I can never see amounting to—”

“Please, Mary,” Jaime cut in, her impatience bubbling to the surface. “What has happened?”

Mary scowled at her cousin. “Well, the duke and Edward have been summoned to Nonsuch Palace. That’s what has happened.”

Jaime’s heart leapt with excitement. With Edward waiting on the king, she would be able to spend the time needed to nurse Malcolm back to health—without involving Edward at all. Jaime’s hand squeezed Mary’s arm. “And have they gone?”

“Nay, how could they,” Mary responded, “when Edward is searching high and low for you?”

“What? You mean he’s looking for me now?”

“Aye,” Mary said, prying her cousin’s fingers from her arm. “And if I have bruises from your rough handling of me, Jaime Macpherson...”

Jaime looked about her nervously. “Do you know where he is now, Mary?”

“Probably coming this way, I’d wager—were wagering a ladylike pursuit. I heard him questioning your maid, but Caddy feigned total ignorance—a marvelous performance—and vaguely mumbled something about flowers and trees. And then I saw him going off toward the orchards.”

“Come with me, Mary,” Jaime said, pulling her cousin by the hand.

“What on earth...?”

Jaime had been very careful about coming to Malcolm this morning. Other than Mary, and Caddy, her maid, no one in the house knew of her whereabouts. She trusted Master Graves, the physician, but something inside her head told her that letting Edward know she was here would be a terrible mistake.

“Hurry, Mary. We must meet him somewhere else...away from here.”

Mary glanced back, and then nodded slowly as her cousin’s concern dawned on her.

“Ah, the Scot,” she said. They hadn’t gone three steps, though, before Mary yanked Jaime to a halt. “But you can’t go to Edward like that.”

Quickly, she unfastened Jaime’s b****y cloak and removed it, carefully rolling it up and even more carefully holding it away from her own skirts. Placing it on a nearby cart, she turned and tried to smooth her cousin’s hair. Disappointed with the effort, Mary turned Jaime around, pulled the long black hair over her shoulder, and began to braid it rapidly.

“You’ve spent the entire day down here, coz. Your cloak is stained with his blood. Your eyes are puffed up from crying. Why are you so worried about this man?”

Jaime felt her face redden as she lifted her hands to her eyes. She was glad Mary was behind her. “I was the cause of the beating he received at Norwich Castle,” she replied, hedging her answer. She hoped desperately Edward would not notice her condition.

“There. Now you look at least somewhat presentable.” Mary cast a critical eye over her cousin. “Smooth your skirts. And...”

Jaime grabbed the other woman by the hand. “Come on, Mary. We must be away from here.” Jaime led her cousin out of the stable enclosure and onto the tree lined drive that led back toward the huge, rambling manor house. The gardens lay behind the high hedges to the left, the orchards to the right of the ornately designed flower beds. Acting on impulse, she pulled her cousin down the lane to the left. The lane leading to the mews. Jaime loved to hunt, and she spent a great deal of time with the falcons that the duke kept. His two peregrines, gifts of the king himself, were among the finest in England. In a moment the wall enclosing the mews came into view.

Evan, the duke’s falconer, was watching his eldest son chop three freshly killed rabbits for the hawks when the two women passed through the gate into the small yard in front of the mews. He glanced up, smiling his crooked smile as he recognized Jaime. The two hooded peregrines, black and strong, sat perched on crossed stakes driven into the ground beside the falconer.

“How is your wife, Evan?” Jaime asked pleasantly.

Evan bowed slightly and doffed his cap to Mary. “A mite uncomfortable, mistress, as ye might expect, but due any day, she tells me. Oh, she asked me to thank ye for sending in the meals from the kitchens this past week. Heavy work, it is, her moving about, and your kindness has been a godsend, to be sure.”

“No thanks are needed,” Jaime whispered as she stepped over to one of the birds and began petting her magnificent feathers.

“Well, we thank ye all the same.” The falconer nodded toward the peregrines. “Ye missed a fine day of hunting today. His Grace stayed in, but some of the young gentles made a jolly time of it.”

“I’m sure Lord Edward must have enjoyed the hunt.”

“Nay, mistress,” Evan said, shaking his head. “His Lordship has not been down all day.”

Jaime hid her relief, gesturing toward the rabbit. “The fruit of your labors, Evan?”

“Aye, mistress,” Evan said gravely. “Just a few of the little beasties that we knocked down today. The birds we took went direct to the kitchens. We’ve still a couple of hours of sunlight. Would ye care to take one of these ladies out, mistress?”

Jaime shook her head, whereupon the falconer picked up several pieces of the meat to feed to the falcons. “Nay, Evan. Not today, but I thank you. Working about in the garden has wearied me dreadfully. Perhaps tomorrow,” she said with a smile, taking the wide-eyed Mary by the elbow and steering her back out the gate.

“What are you up to, Jaime Macpherson?” Mary breathed, trying to keep up with her cousin’s quick pace. The gate to the garden lay directly before them. A pair of grooms sprinted down the lane in the direction of the stables, crossing the women’s path. The young men were clearly in a hurry.

“Mary, don’t leave my side.” Jaime stopped with her hand on the gate and looked into her cousin’s face. “No matter what Edward says, you mustn’t leave me alone with him. Promise me.”

“What’s wrong? You’ve never feared being left alone with him before.” Seeing the quick turning away of Jaime’s eyes and the hands that hurriedly yanked open the gate, Mary reached out and caught her cousin’s arm. “Jaime?”

Coloring, Jaime turned slightly and shook her head. Then, looking directly into her cousin’s eyes, she asked, “Please, Mary. Don’t leave my side.”

The blonde-haired beauty paused, and then nodded hesitantly. Jaime turned and moved through the gate, but Mary held back a moment, staring after her cousin’s retreating figure, before following her into the gardens.

Once safely within the carefully manicured space, Jaime slowed down, leading Mary into the center of a close-cropped, knot-like design of herbs. Shielding her eyes with her hand against the rays of the descending sun, she scanned the far side of the enclosure for any sign of Edward. By a path leading to the orchards, where a half-dozen gardeners were working, she saw one of them straighten up as a giant of a man came into view. The others stood quickly, bowing deferentially, and Jaime’s gaze focused on the figure. She watched as Edward said something to the gardener.

Taking Mary by the arm, Jaime moved quickly to a circular, grass-covered bench and sat her cousin on it, putting them in the full view of the gardener. In less than a moment, the man’s eyes turned in their direction, and Jaime saw the gardener’s finger point toward them. Whirling around, Jaime pretended to be unaware of Edward’s presence, staring instead at the carefully clipped design that surrounded them. So far so good, she thought with relief.

“Don’t look at him, Mary,” she commanded. A pair of swallows flitted across the garden in front of them, and Jaime forced herself to watch them for a moment until they disappeared up and over the ivy-covered way at the far end of the enclosure.

Mary’s voice, like that of a stern tutor, broke into the silence. “Jaime, don’t ask me to lie to him about your whereabouts this afternoon. I don’t like to lie. I can’t lie. By Saint Agnes, he is coming this way.” Her voice registered her alarm. “Perhaps it would be better if I should go...”

Jaime plunked herself down beside her cousin and took hold of Mary’s hand with a forceful grip. Edward must be getting fairly close to them. “Just sit here beside me,” she said quietly but firmly. “You won’t have to say anything, at all.”

“But, Jaime, what happens if he asks me something?” the younger woman asked under her breath. “What should I say?”

“Just follow my lead. Think of this as a game, for heaven’s sake.” Jaime paused and looked into Mary’s troubled face. “Mary, I’m just not prepared to be alone with him right now. But neither you nor I have done anything wrong. So please get that guilty expression off your face.”

“I’ll try,” Mary responded, nodding resignedly. “But I just don’t understand what’s come over you.”

Jaime looked away. How could Mary understand? Jaime herself couldn’t understand, and frankly, that irked her somewhat. True, she was not married to Edward. They were not even betrothed...yet. But she was acting as if she’d been completely disloyal in spending the day at the stables nursing Malcolm. After all, she argued with herself, she was doing Edward a great service in trying to keep his prisoner alive. That was certainly true. Then why had she panicked at the thought of Edward finding her there. Why was she planning to deceive Edward now?

The thought flashed through her mind that Edward was changing. He was still—with the exception of his passionate outburst last night—as courteous as ever toward her. But his changing moods—mercurial enough to keep many servants in a state of constant terror—were becoming more evident to Jaime, and the side of him she saw at Norwich Castle frightened her a bit. As much as she despised Malcolm MacLeod for what he had done, she could not risk having Edward snuff out his life on a whim. And when she considered Edward’s passionate feelings for her, she decided that the risk was far too high.

Mary lifted a hand and waved to Edward. Jaime turned to greet him as well, forcing her lips into a smile as he approached them. His strides were long and impatient, but his face was partly obscured by the lengthening shadows. She tried to keep her hands still in her lap.

“By the devil, Jaime! I’ve been looking...”

“So fierce, Edward,” she admonished him cheerily, springing to her feet as he came up to them. His face was flushed beneath his velvet tam with the plume of peregrine feathers, and he was wearing a finely worked velvet doublet that matched his russet-colored hose. Jaime noted the high riding boots. Edward was clearly dressed for his journey to the king’s court at Nonsuch Palace. “Well, you certainly missed the most glorious afternoon of hunting. Oh, I wish so much that you had been there. The falcons are magnificent and the catch...” As he took hold of her hands, she paused and turned a blushing cheek to him when he bent down to kiss her. “You see our cousin Mary here...”

“Hunting? I saw you at the house little more than an hour ago, Mary,” Edward said, looking skeptically at the younger woman.

When her cousin went brilliantly crimson to the very roots of her hair, Jaime cut in immediately. “Mary didn’t go hunting today. But we thought a quiet walk in the gardens would help dispel her headache. And it is working, is it not, my sweet?” Jaime detached herself from Edward and glided to her cousin’s side, squeezing her hand as Mary nodded and smiled weakly. “In fact, we’ve just come up from the mews. It’s such a fine day to be outdoors, and I was certain the sight of His Grace’s beautiful peregrines as well as the fresh air might do her some good.”

Edward’s face quickly changed as he dismissed the subject from his mind, and Jaime noted the excitement that flashed across his face. He peered into her upturned face for a moment and then pulled his hat from his head, running his fingers through his hair as he began to pace back and forth before them.

“Mary, leave us,” he ordered, halting abruptly and turning to them.

Jaime jumped as her cousin sprang up like a startled pheasant. Tugging hard at Mary’s hand, she drew her roughly back onto the bench.

“Edward, she’s not well enough to go up to the house on her own,” Jaime scolded, looking defiantly into his annoyed expression. He towered over her. “So please stop ordering her around.”

His face cleared as he visibly struggled to keep Jaime’s rebelliousness from spoiling his intentions.

“But...well, I have some news that I would like to share with you, alone.”

“So you have been summoned to the king,” Jaime said, springing to her feet excitedly, to the amazement of both Edward and Mary.

“You already know?” He asked puzzled, a smile beginning to work across his face.

“But how could we not know?” she said, clapping her hands. “Everyone knew that, in no time at all, news of your capture would be well received at court.” She touched him affectionately on the arm. “Truly, I am happy for you, Edward. You are so brave—such a hero. This was too long in coming. But then, it had to happen sooner or later that the king would recognize your successes.”

Edward chuckled, pleased with her response. “You talk as if I’m about to be made a member of the king’s Privy Council.”

“Why not? You deserve all good things, Edward.” She folded her hands before her and looked up into his face cheerfully. “When do you leave?”

“When His Grace is ready.” Edward glanced uncomfortably at Mary’s inhibiting presence. Then he reached down and took Jaime by the elbow, pulling her away. “I want to talk to you...alone.”

“We can speak here, Edward.”

The knight looked around, focusing on an arbor of climbing roses not far away. “Nay, Jaime. There in the arbor.”

She dug her feet in the dirt and shook her head. “We cannot, Edward,” she whispered back, looking cautiously over her shoulder at Mary. “Why, Mary just told me that your brother’s wife, the Countess Frances, spoke to her specifically—and just this morning—about the impropriety of the two of us.”

“Who the devil is Frances to meddle in our affairs?” Edward exploded, turning on Mary, who began to stand and then sat again, staring into her lap in embarrassment.

Jaime raised a hand and placed it against his lips. Raising herself on her toes, she whispered confidentially. “She’s only looking after my reputation, dear cousin. You wouldn’t want wagging tongues to blacken my name in your absence now, would you?”

His strong hands gripped her shoulders hard, and he nearly lifted her off her feet as he pulled her into his embrace. “I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” he said, bringing her face close to his.

“Mary is watching,” she managed to get out before his mouth slanted over hers, crushing her lips with his kiss. She planted her hands against his chest and tried to push herself away. Jaime felt her face burn as his lips devoured hers. She could feel his fingers, like iron, digging into the flesh of her arms. Suddenly, he broke off the kiss, and pressed his lips close to her ear.

“This will be our final parting, Jaime. I know you want me, and I believe you’re as impatient as I. So think all you want, and plan as you will. When I return from the king’s court, we will be sending word to your parents. We will announce our betrothal.”

Jaime simply stared at him as he drew back to look into her eyes. He eased his grip on her shoulders.

“Once the agreement is reached with your family,” he vowed, “we can marry the next day or the next year, so far as I’m concerned.” His large hands framed her face, his thumb running over her full lower lip.

“Once the papers are drawn,” he repeated. “You are mine to keep.”

She lowered her eyes and stared at the stitching of his doublet. He wanted her the same way he wanted a prize at sea. He would win her—take her—the same way he would take a treasure ship from the New World. By force and strength. That was Edward’s way.

“Be good, Jaime,” he said softly, as his hands dropped to his sides. “Dream of me.”

She looked up, suddenly caught off guard by the tenderness she saw in his gray eyes and heard in his voice. Her heart pounded at the gentleness in his tone, and her head whirled in confusion. How could he be so different from one moment to the next? The two sides of this man tore at her, and her face reflected her bewilderment as he bowed and, without another word, started back for the house.