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Katherine managed a tiny shake of her head.
“That’s good. Ye wouldnae like me if I had tae get nasty wi’ ye.”
Katherine could not imagine liking these ruffians any less than she already did. She saw no option but to do as they said, at least for now. Robbie would come. He would help her. It was her task to make sure she remained alive long enough for that to make a difference.
The second man sheathed his sword, then produced a length of leather from beneath his grubby tartan cloak. He grabbed Katherine and flung her to her knees on the earthen floor, then dragged her hands behind her back and secured them with the leather. Her wrists throbbed where the strap dug into her skin.
“Who are you? What do you want with me?” She was sobbing now, unable to help it. These men dared to accost her in broad daylight, right at the heart of the king’s court and under her husband’s very nose. They meant her serious harm, of that she had no doubt.
“D’ye no’ recognise me? I spent enough time at yer old keep,” the man in the MacKinnon colours snarled. “Maybe ye dinnae care tae visit the dungeons at Elborne o’ermuch, yer ladyship. If ye did, ye an’ me would be old friends by now.”
“I have no idea what…” She fell silent as realisation dawned.
Angus MacKinnon. It must be.
Stephen had held the Scottish warlord hostage for months until the ransom had been paid by Robbie’s father before the old earl died. But what the man said was true. She did not usually have cause to visit prisoners in their dungeon, and she had never laid eyes on the captive in all that time.
“What do you mean to do?” she repeated, dreading the answer. Angus’s hatred of Stephen, and, she assumed, Robbie also, was well known.
“Ye shall ken soon enough.” Angus leered at her. “I daresay we shall put that pretty mouth tae good use later. Fer now, though…” He jerked his chin at his companion. “Gag ’er.”
“No!” Katherine tried to fight, her lofty and sensible intentions regarding her survival dissolving in sheer, mind-numbing terror. It did her no good at all. The man produced a scrap of dirty rag while his companion clutched her jaw and squeezed viciously in order to force her mouth open. He stuffed the rag between her lips, then secured it in place with another length of leather.
Her screams now stifled, Katherine could only whimper when one of the men flung a sack over her head and shoulders and hoisted her up from the floor. Wrapped in cloying, smothering darkness, she never saw the blow coming. Her head exploded in agony, and she knew nothing more.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
James of Scotland dusted the parchment with fine sand to ensure the ink was properly dry. He then rolled it up, secured it with a red ribbon, and applied his great royal seal to ensure his letter to the Pope would not be tampered with on the voyage to Rome.
Robbie watched, ready to receive the document into his safekeeping. He already knew its contents, having assisted the king in drafting the missive to His Holiness. James sought the Pope’s support and blessing in his negotiations with the English regarding his forthcoming marriage and in cementing his fragile alliance with France. Pope Innocent, the eighth of that name, was well known for his willingness to impose his considerable influence upon European affairs. He had recently excommunicated Ferdinand of Naples and invited Charles of France to bring an army to Italy to take control of Ferdinand’s kingdom. The resulting uproar could be felt as far as Scotland. His Holiness needed friends at this time almost as much as James did, so the moment was opportune.
The king handed the missive to his loyal messenger. “Make all haste, Robbie. Let us not squander this fortuitous turn of events.”
“I shall be on the next vessel for Calais, sire. I have but tae round up my wife and we shall be away.”
“Aye, well, be sure tae bring Lady Roxburghe back soon. We shall enjoy her company in Edinburgh over the winter.”
Robbie bowed, having not the slightest intention of spending the winter months sequestered in the capital, trying to keep Kat out of James’ clutches. Apart from the fact that he found himself more enamoured of his bride with every day that passed, and was not about to share her, he also fully appreciated her feelings regarding infidelity. He would not allow her to be compromised.
What was more, such an entanglement would doubtless turn out to be a political disaster for him and his clan. His close friendship with the king benefited all parties. Robbie would not risk the inevitable tensions were he to let such a dalliance occur. Much as he respected the youthful monarch, Robbie recognised that James had an unfortunate tendency to think with his dick. One of them needed to see sense, and it would be Robbie, seemingly.
“I shall send word of our departure, Your Majesty, as soon as I have secured passage.”
“Aye. Do that. And, Robbie…”
“Sire?”
“Stay safe, my friend.”
Katherine was nowhere to be seen in any of the places he had expected to find her. The various public chambers still thronged with the lords and ladies of James’ court, all intent upon jockeying for position, but he saw no dark-haired head bobbing among them. He strode from chamber to chamber, occasionally pausing to ask of any who had met his wife if they knew of her present whereabouts. He was met by apologetic shrugs and shaking heads.
He wandered out onto the terrace. It was fine day. Katherine might have decided to take a breath of air.
The gardens were virtually deserted, apart from a handful of ladies who strolled here and there. He spotted Lady Mary Douglas and decided to enquire of her. There was little which occurred at Holyrood which escaped her eagle eye.
“Lady Mary, may I detain you for a moment?” He hailed her from the terrace, then strode across the manicured lawn to where she took the air with two companions. He bowed politely to the trio. “Lady Joan. Lady Elisabeth. I trust ye’re all well this fine day.”
The younger women exchanged nervous glances, but Lady Mary tipped up her chin and glared at him. “Can we help you, my lord?”
