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His mind bent only on getting out of there, Royce nodded distantly and started to turn.
"She's quite old, isn't she?" Lady Elizabeth persisted.
"Not too old to snatch up her skirts and run away from the Black Wolf," Graverley put in smoothly, strolling out from the midst of the crowd. "No doubt you'll have to beat her into submission, won't you? A little torture, a little pain, and then mayhaps she'll stay in your bed?"
Royce's hands clenched against the urge to strangle the bastard.
Someone laughed to diffuse the tension and joked, "It's England against Scotland, Claymore, except the battles will take place in the bedchamber. My purse is on you."
"Mine, too," someone else called.
"Mine is on the woman," Graverley proclaimed.
Further back in the crowd an elderly gentleman cupped his hand to his ear and called to a friend who was closer to the duke, "Eh? What's all this about? What's happened to Claymore?"
"He has to marry the Merrick slut," his friend replied, raising his voice to be heard over the increasing hubbub.
"What did he say?" called a lady far back in the crowd, craning her neck.
"Claymore has to marry the Merrick slut!" the elderly gentleman obligingly called out.
In the uproar that followed, only two nobles in the antechamber remained still and silent-Lord MacLeash and Lord Dugal, the emissaries from King James, who were waiting for the signed marriage agreement which they were to take to Scotland tonight.
Within two hours, word had passed from noble to servant to guards outside, and then to passersby: "Claymore has to marry the Merrick slut."
Chapter Fourteen
In answer to her father's summons, Je
Now, in retrospect, she thought it a little odd that he had placed God in the last position of importance when he listed those she had shamed. And despite her lingering guilt at having actually enjoyed the things Lord Westmoreland had done to her, she refused to believe her God would blame her for making the original bargain. In the first place, Lord Westmoreland had not wanted her life, he had wanted her body. And although she'd been wrong to enjoy lying with a man who was not her husband, the actual bargain had been nobly made for the sake of sparing Bre
The God whom Friar Benedict spoke of in such frightening terms of fiery vengeance and righteousness, was not the same God to whom Je
Je
Her father was standing at the fireplace, his rigid back to his guests. "You wished to see me, Father?"
Without turning he spoke, and the ominous tone of his voice made alarm tingle up her spine. "Sit down, daughter," he said, and her cousin, Angus, quickly stood up to offer Je
"How are you feeling, Je
"I-I'm very well," she whispered, looking at him with her heart in her eyes. "And I-I thank you for asking, Garrick Carmichael."
"Yer a brave lass," another of her kinsmen spoke up, and Je
"Aye," said another. "Yer a true Merrick."
A fleeting thought passed her delighted mind that, despite her father's inexplicably black look, this was begi
Hollis Fergusson spoke up, his voice gruff as he issued an apology on behalf of everyone for their past behavior: "William has told us all about what happened while you were in the clutches of the Barbarian -about how you escaped on his own horse, and attacked him with his sword, and slashed their blankets. You've made him a laughingstock with your escape. A lass with courage like yours would no' sneak about doin' the sorts o' vile things Alexander accused you o' doin. William has made us see that. Alexander was mistaken in you."
Je
"I only told the truth," he said, his smile gentle and inexplicably sad as he returned her gaze-as if his pleasure in what he'd accomplished was being dimmed by something else weighing heavily on him.
"Yer a Merrick," Hollis Fergusson put in proudly. "A Merrick through and through. Not one 'o us has ever given the Wolf a taste of our blades, but you did, small though you are, and a lass, at that."
"Thank you, Hollis," Je
Only Malcolm, Je
Her father turned abruptly, and the expression on his face banished some of Je
"Aye," he said bitterly. "Our fates have been decided by our meddling monarch, not ourselves." Clasping his hands behind his back, he began to pace slowly back and forth while he explained in a harsh monotone: "When you and your sister were taken, I petitioned King James for two thousand armed men to join with ours so that we could pursue the Barbarian into England. James sent word back, commanding me to take no action until he had time to demand your release, as well as reparation for this outrage, from Henry. He had just agreed on a truce with the English, he said.