Page 17 of A Constant Blaze

From an early age, Mairead had been an adventurous girl, sneaking off alone behind her family’s back to get into trouble with those of a lower station in life. As a result, she was good not just at finding excellent hiding places but at rediscovering them when necessary.

In the woods near the castle of Roxburgh, Mairead retrieved her whore’s garments from their hole behind two large rocks and some huge gnarled oak tree roots and hastily changed, before taking out the square of polished bronze she used as a mirror. Gazing into it for guidance, she stained her lips bright red and added kohl liberally around her eyes, and then color to her cheekbones.

Then she stuffed her own clothes into the hole and replaced the stones before walking up to the castle—which was a harder journey than usual because she wore some vulgar red-dyed shoes with built-up heels that made her even taller than she was. It had caused her some qualms to deliberately scuff such beautiful works of craftsmanship, but they were far too expensive for a mere whore to wear unless they were castoffs.

She was expected at the castle and had no difficulty in gaining admittance through the south entrance. The soldiers were even more playful than usual, making their search of her body particularly thorough.

“What’s the point, lads?” she demanded. “He’s going free in the morning. Why would I help him escape tonight?”

“Perk of the job,” one soldier grinned, running his hand between her legs.

“Here, have you grown?” another demanded, looking up into her face.

Mairead stretched her painted mouth into a smile and lifted her cheap frilled skirts enough to reveal the magnificent red shoes.

The soldiers growled with gratifying lust.

“You’ll be missing your client after tonight,” one observed with a gleam in his eyes that implied he’d be happy to take his prisoner’s place on her schedule.

“I heard he has a son to replace him,” she said cheekily before letting her mouth droop in a pitiful kind of way. After all, she needed an excuse to be crying when she left in the morning. “But I’ll miss him all the same. A sweet, strong man, and refined, too. I wouldn’t meet his like in the normal way of things.”

“Speak nicely to him,” the soldier advised. “Better still, keep these shoes on all night, and maybe he’ll take you with him.”

She let her eyes light up with hope. “Oh, do you think so?”

“Well, he asks for you. Never asked for any other whores by name. I think he likes you.”

“Really?” she said breathlessly.

“Really. And if he says no, you can always ensnare the son. He’s just as handsome.”

“Wouldn’t be the same, though,” she said with a sigh. “Wish me luck, gentlemen!”

Her friendly soldier conducted her to the prison tower, where he invited her to think of him if she was ever in need. She nudged him in equally friendly spirit. “They don’t pay you enough, soldier. Come back when you’re captain of the guard.”

He grinned and unlocked the prisoner’s door. She tripped in, and the door slammed behind her.

Two men occupied the room now, each sitting on the cots against opposite walls. Malcolm MacHeth got up from his and came at once to meet her, tall and dark and strong. As always, he kissed her hand in a smacking sort of a way in case the guard still lingered outside. Her heart thundered with a longing that would never now be fulfilled.

Malcolm mac Aed was everything she’d ever wanted in a man. Handsome enough to turn an impressionable girl’s knees to jelly, with just that edge of danger that thrilled her blood. On top of which, he was clever, witty, able to laugh at himself and the world, and learned enough to talk about most subjects under the sun without ever once being boring. But in truth, she liked his quiet as much as his speech. It took only his presence to move her.

Once, she’d put his effect on her down to the almost legendary status of the man. Now, she knew better.

“Allow me to present my son, Donald,” he murmured.

The son, an even more handsome but somehow less dramatic version of Adam, came across from his bed and also kissed her hand. “Lady, I’m as indebted to you as the rest of my family. Your bravery leaves the rest of us standing still.”

“I never heard the sons of Malcolm stood still for very long,” Mairead said lightly.

“What’s happening?” Malcolm demanded. “I had a letter from my wife, delivered by the constable himself, urging me to consent to my own release, leaving Donald here. She mentioned things known only to us, so shemeantit. She wasn’t simply giving my gaolers something to read.”

“No, she means it,” Mairead said, waving her hand to urge both men to sit. “We have a plan. Adam has brought the men of Ross to the edge of Fife. Somerled has sent part of his fleet close enough to the west coast to worry the king, and our friends exaggerate the numbers to spread rumors and dread. But we’re doing nothing that isn’t expected of us in the circumstances. So, they trulywon’texpect what wearegoing to do.” She frowned. “Unless Christian betrays us.”

“Christian?” Donald repeated. “Cairistiona won’t betray us. I’d swear she loves Adam. Why would you even think that?”

“Because I just saw her in Glasgow two days ago, cozy as you like with King Malcolm. The lady never mentioned her to me.” Mairead shrugged. “Then again, she didn’t tell me what Adam and Somerled were doing either. I suppose she has to be careful what she commits to writing for the sake of all of us, should something go wrong. She would protect Adam’s wife as much as she could.”

Donald looked at his father, then back to Mairead with doubt. “Why? Why would Cairistiona go to the king now?”

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