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“I was never betrothed to Janet,” Robbie said. “There was talk, but it came tae naught. Then she died of the fever. I was sorry to learn of it, and my father sent his condolences tae her father. It was years ago. There is no animosity between myself and The Douglas, and no expectation of an alliance on either side. Does his sister not realise this?”
“I… I do not know, my lord. But that was why she wished to be rid of the countess. In order that you might wed a Douglas girl.”
Robbie shook his head. This was utter madness. The reasons for Kat’s abduction were irrelevant right now, though he might return to those in due course. “So, what did she decide tae do about it?”
“She…she paid the Fenwicks to take her.”
“The Fenwicks?”Fuck! Could this be any worse?“The Fenwicks are nothing but a bunch of lawless, rabid bandits.”
Joan cowered before Robbie’s anger. “I know that, but no one else would dare. Not after the king sanctioned the match…”
“Where did they take her?” Robbie demanded, narrowly resisting the urge to seize the woman by the throat. “Where did those feral bastards take my wife?”
“I do not know,” she spluttered. “Truly, I never heard that. I only saw Lady Mary pay the men sent to snatch her. Then, we were to lead her down to the lake where they would be waiting. That was all.”
All? Dear God…
“They may mean to ransom her,” James suggested, though with no real sense of conviction.
That was possible, though Robbie also considered it unlikely. Mary Douglas clearly wanted Kat gone for good, not just temporarily absent. He raked his fingers though his hair. The woman was deranged if she thought she might get away with this.
“They will be heading for their clan seat at Fynmuir,” Robbie announced. “Where else would they go.”
“Aye.” James obviously concurred. He was already on his feet. “Take Lady Joan to be reunited with her friends. I shall deal with them later. And, Joan, your cooperation, however belated, will not be forgotten.”
“Wait,” Robbie commanded. He rounded on the woman. “How long ago was it? When ye led Katherine to the summerhouse?”
The woman quaked under his ferocious gaze. “I… I think about an hour.”
Robbie gave a curt nod. “Take her.”
The third lady was bundled unceremoniously off after her companions. Her protests were decidedly more muted than the other two.
“We ride to Fynmuir, then,” Robbie shouted over his shoulder. He was already hurtling from the solar, the king at his heels. “They only have an hour’s lead on us. If we are swift enough, we may overtake them before they get there.”
“Aye,” James agreed as they clattered down the stairs. “If they get her holed up in that bloody fortress of theirs, we could be weeks winkling them out. We would have to lay a siege…”
Robbie was under no illusions regarding the reasons for his monarch’s sense of urgency. James was probably almost as incensed as he was himself at the temerity of the Fenwicks and Lady Mary. Doubtless he was also genuinely concerned for Katherine’s fate, but above all he wanted Robbie sailing for Italy, ideally on the next tide. What he did not want was his closest adviser and most trusted envoy camping outside border fortresses on the east coast for months on end.
And if it did come to that, how would Kat fare during such an ordeal? The Fenwicks would never give her up alive.
Robbie charged across the courtyard to where his stallion waited. Zeus was saddled and ready for him, his hooves pawing the cobbles in his zeal to be off. Moments later, the king at his side and four dozen armed men at his back, he galloped through the narrow streets of Edinburgh and out of the western gate.
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
Darkness. Absolute, inky black darkness.
Katherine lay on her side and swore that a herd of wild horses had been let loose within her skull. She blinked, not even certain if her eyes were open or not as she could see nothing but pitch-blackness.
Perhaps I am unconscious still. Or I am dreaming…
She dismissed that attractive notion. No dream could evoke this level of agony and discomfort without bringing her rudely awake, and this nightmare was not about to be ended by such simple means. She groaned, convinced her head was about to explode. Her arms had long since gone numb from being bound so tightly. Every muscle ached, apart from those already in cramp.
She was moving, bouncing about, her body thrown from side to side by a relentless, jerking motion. She must be on a cart, or something similar, lying on her right side. Her nostrils were filled with the scent of damp hay, suggesting the last use to which this particular wagon had been put. It was a pity none of the previous cargo had been left behind, since a layer of soft hay might have served to cushion the effect of the bumpy, pitted track they were clearly travelling over.
She did her best to absorb the repeated, relentless impacts, but to not much avail. She resigned herself to simply endure.
Her bladder was making its presence felt, but at least as pressing a concern was the need to breathe. Her assailants had flung something heavy and cloying over her head, a sack, she would guess. The fabric was thick and coarse, excluding both light and air. Between that and the gag in her mouth, the only way to fill her lungs was to angle her head and body so as to allow a draught of air in from beneath and breathe as best she might through her nose.
