Page 63 of The Highlander and The Lady of Misrule

She relaxed her smile into a genuine one. He’d said up front that he would leave when his mission was done. His mother needed him as well as his king. Lucy stuffed the disappointment down inside with all her other dark emotions. “Yes, I truly do.” She rose on her toes to kiss his cheek. “And the collars for the dogs mean so much. Too,” she added. His frown showed that he doubted her. “And you like the locket?” she asked.

“Aye. Your likeness is finely made.” The pinch between his brows deepened.

They stood there before the altar with their gifts, and Lucy felt the press of the silence. It was as if the gifts had sucked the passion out of the room.

“I should get back to the Great Hall,” Lucy said, wrapping the collars and lethal hair sticks back in the cloth to carry. “The queen will be formally opening her own gifts. I should be there to poke jests about them.”

They walked up the marble aisle, their footsteps echoing in the silence. She shivered slightly at the feel of judgement and remorse.

Greer opened the heavy chapel door, and an angry voice came from the open Great Hall.

“Are you trying to kill me, Lady Cranfield?”

“That’s the queen,” Lucy said, hurrying across the corridor, Greer right by her side.

The minstrels had silenced, and the full room stood still, watching the drama unfold before the queen’s dais. Elizabeth stood tall, looming over Cordelia. Even without the white makeup, Cordelia looked as pale as the queen. Elizabeth’s white face was pinched, and her red lips sealed tight. William and his father were crouched around something lying on the floor.

“’Tis definitely a powder of some composition,” the older Darby said. “I will have to test it in my laboratory to know for certain, but it looks like ratsbane.”

Lucy rushed forward, shouldering her way through the press. People let her through, and she saw the grand ostrich-feather fan lying on the floor.

“I swear to you, Your Majesty,” Cordelia said, “there was no powder when I wrapped it yesterday. I would never taint a gift with poison to give to you.”

“The snake doesn’t stray far from its sire in beliefs. Even with your mother dead, you carry on her treasonous work. Arrest her!” Elizabeth called, and several guards came forward.

“Please, Your Majesty,” Lucy called, grabbing onto her sister. Tears ran down Cordelia’s face, but she held her head high. “Certainly, a traitor has sabotaged my sister’s gift.”

“It would be foolish for her to taint her own gift to ye, knowing ye might see the poison or be accused if ye became ill,” Greer said.

But Elizabeth’s face was tight with anger, and worse, fear. And people and animals were much more dangerous when fear ruled them, even more so than anger.

“Take Lady Cranfield to the Tower,” Elizabeth said.

“Just to be certain,” Walsingham said, his gaze drifting to Lucy, “which Lady Cranfield are you imprisoning?”

Lucy held her breath, frozen for a moment. Who would take care of the children and dogs if she were locked away? Her house and money taken by the crown?

“Cordelia Cranfield,” Elizabeth said, her small, sharp eyes darting to Lucy. “For now.”

Before Lucy could say anything, Greer took her arm, pulling her back step by step until the crowd enveloped them. It was as if he coaxed her away from the ledge of a deadly precipice.

“I must stay with her,” she said.

His lips came near her ear. “Ye must not. Not when Walsingham could easily convince Elizabeth to lock ye up too. Come.” He took her hand, his fingers intertwining with her gloved one, locking her to him as he hurried them down the dim corridor.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Gather things. We will go to Cranfield House first and decide if ’tis safe to stay.”

Her fist tightened in the folds of her petticoat. “I can’t leave Cordy.”

“Ye must right now. Before the Darbys confirm ’tis poison and Walsingham writes up your arrest warrant.”

“But I had nothing—”

“Fear multiplies suspicion until it either fades or ends with a beheading,” he said as they raced along the corridor.

“Won’t I look guilty running?”

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