Page 14 of A Constant Blaze

Christian looked straight ahead of her, ignoring all her old dislike of being gawped at. After all, more important things now concerned her, but even those couldn’t drown out some of the whispers she heard from passersby.

“That’s…that’s the Lady de Lanson. I saw her in Perth…”

Interesting. If she’d never worn the mask, he’d never have remembered her.

Another voice murmured, “What’s she doing back here? Shouldn’t Lanson be pursuing the MacHeths?”

“Perhaps he’s been defeated. Perhaps she’s come to the king for help.”

“Or to report victory over the MacHeths before Malcolm is released. Insane to release him with their army already approaching, and Somerled’s ships practically in the Clyde.”

“They’re not as close as that.”

“I heard the MacHeths are not fighting. They’ve just come south to conduct Malcolm home.”

“Ha! Don’t be so gullible. Wait, though, the other woman, is that not Lanson’s mistress? There is an odd friendship for you!”

Christian, aware of Alys’s sliding glance in her direction, continued to gaze straight ahead.

“Lady de Lanson,” came a shout directly beside her. Ahead, Henry pulled in his horse and glared. It was a nobleman on foot, youngish, stocky, and fit. “Let me take you to the king!”

“I have my escort, thank you.”

The man came closer, and she halted. Henry placed his horse right beside her. The nobleman bowed respectfully, and it came to her that she’d seen him before.

He said smoothly, “I can’t hope to be remembered, but we met in Perth. I am Ferchar, Earl of Strathearn, and I know the king will be eager to speak with you.”

“I am eager to speak with His Grace,” Christian said. “I bring vital news.”

“Then follow me,” the earl said, and suddenly two royal soldiers were clearing the way for them to pass unhindered to the bishop’s house. At least Christian didn’t have to hear any more conversation about herself.

And the earl’s cooperation did make things so much easier. His people took care of her horse and Alys’s, leaving Henry and the other soldiers free to kick their heels until she returned, while Christian and Alys were led inside and in response to a series of clipped orders, soon found themselves being led along a narrow corridor, no longer by the Earl of Strathearn, but by some lower minion who might have been a secretary.

Noble men and women passed in the opposite direction. Christian gazed straight ahead, plodding rather grimly onward as her heart beat faster. Then, perhaps because she felt the power of a fixed gaze, she made the mistake of glancing at the woman who walked toward them. A simple but elegant gold robe draped over a dark brown underdress, an embroidered net veil revealing the gorgeous red-gold hair beneath. And hazel-green eyes staring at her in shock.

Mairead, the Lady of Kingowan.

Mairead, who knew everything. That William was dead, that Christian was married now to Adam MacHeth. How much of Christian’s role in this plan had Halla committed to writing? Did Mairead even know she was a friend?

The woman’s eyes flashed with contempt as she passed. She might as well have uttered the word aloud.Traitor.

Christian and Alys were taken to a small antechamber where they were left alone between two closed doors.

Christian sat on the window bench seat and took one of the two purses from her girdle. “Your dowry,” she said wryly, throwing it to Alys, who caught it without difficulty. “You may accompany me to meet the king. After that, our contract, association, or whatever you wish to call it, is at an end.”

Alys tucked the purse away inside her cloak, no doubt in some hidden pocket she’d sewn there. “I like you better like this,” she remarked.

Christian considered the woman who had contributed to so much of her past misery. “I don’t care,” she discovered.

Alys’s face flushed slightly, almost as though hurt that Christian didn’t reciprocate her softening. Dispassionately, Christian wondered if she’d have forgiven Alys if the other woman hadn’t tried to seduce Adam, too. Although he hadn’t succumbed, not even a little, that mattered. Adam mattered. He was the real reason she was here.

The inner door opened, and the young king himself stepped into the room, accompanied by the Earl of Strathearn and another man she didn’t recognize.

Christian rose and sank into a deep curtsey. So did Alys, who, closer to the king as she was, might have expected to be the first recipient of the royal attention. And certainly, the young king’s gaze swept over her. There might have been an instant’s hesitation before his eyes raced on and found Christian. They lit up like lamps and, ignoring Alys altogether, he strode to Christian.

Alys didn’t have a mask.

The thought shook Christian with inappropriate laughter she had to swallow back down.

---