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“Lady Douglas,” the king purred, the softness of his tone belying the hard-edged glint in his eyes. “Anyone might imagine that you had better things to do than attend your king. You appear…distracted.”
Robbie considered that a polite description of the woman’s undisguised insolence. Lady Mary would do well to conceal her contempt and resentment when conversing with her king.
“I do have affairs awaiting my attention, Your Majesty, but if I may be of some assistance…?” She schooled her austere features into some semblance of subservience. It was far from convincing.
“I believe you may.” James’ smile was as cool as any Arctic spring. “The Countess of Roxburghe is not to be found anywhere. Might you shed some light upon this dilemma?”
“Me, Your Majesty? Why, I barely know the lady…”
“I shall ask you just once more, Lady Douglas.” The king’s tone had hardened. Gone was the boyish charm which James usually exuded, to be replaced by an implacable and darkly merciless demeanour. “Where is Lady Katherine?”
Robbie had never doubted the young king’s suitability to rule, and witnessing this effortless shift, he remembered exactly why he had arrived at that view. That incisive royal glare would bring seasoned warriors to their knees, though it did appear that Lady Mary meant to put up a fight.
“I am afraid I really do not know, sire. Have you checked her apartments at the castle?”
That had been one of Robbie’s first actions, to send a servant running up the hill to the fortress hewn out of solid rock over three centuries earlier and which now towered over the city. The man had returned to report that Lady Katherine was not there and had not returned since they had left together that morning.
James raised his arm to beckon forward one of the guards stationed at the door. “You will escort Lady Douglas to the castle. She is to be detained there, in suitably insalubrious accommodation, until such time as she sees fit to respond truthfully to my questions.”
“What? You cannot! I insist—” The noblewoman’s expression of aghast outrage would have been comical were Robbie not sick with dread over Katherine’s fate.
“Silence.” The king fixed her with a withering glower. “I told you I would ask once more, and not again. I have heard enough lies from you. This matter is urgent, and I will waste no more time on your falsehoods. Take her from my sight.”
Thus dismissed, the lady was bundled from the solar. Her screeches of fury and indignation could be heard receding along the hallway. James listened impassively until she was out of earshot, then turned his gimlet glare upon the two younger ladies.
“Lady Joan? Lady Elisabeth? Have either of you any burning desire to accompany Lady Mary? I do fear her stay in my dungeons could be an extended one. She may welcome your companionship.”
The ladies gaped at him. Neither seemed in the least bit inclined to follow their friend or share in her discomfort.
“No? In that case, perhaps you will be so good as to tell me what you know of this affair.”
Lady Elisabeth ground her teeth, clearly wrestling with the dilemma in which she found herself. Lady Joan was seemingly less wedded to their cause.
“It was Lady Mary’s idea. I warned her…”
“You warned her about what, Joan?” James’ tone was deceptively subdued.
“She insisted. She said it would be for the best, in the long run…”
Elisabeth dug an elbow into her sister’s ribs. “Be quiet, you fool. Cease your prattling. His Majesty has better things to do than listen to your inane babblings.”
“Take that one to join Lady Mary,” the king ordered, waving a dismissive hand in Lady Elisabeth’s direction.
A guard stepped forward to grasp the disgruntled lady by the elbow. Soon another woman headed for incarceration in the castle.
“You were saying, Lady Joan?” James continued, as though there had been no interruption.
Facing her monarch alone was evidently not what Lady Joan had anticipated at all. Her complexion paled. Her eyes widened, glistening with tears she barely managed to contain. “I… I…”
“Tell us what you know. We do not have all day,” Robbie snapped.
“Quite,” James agreed. “Our patience is at an end.”
“It was because you did not wed Janet Douglas,” Lady Joan blurted, addressing her response to Robbie.
“Janet Douglas died,” he retorted. “Was I tae wed a corpse?”
“No, but Lady Margaret was incensed that you would be so dismissive of her poor, deceased niece, then parade your English bride at court.”
