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“I did, but I do not, now, consider that to have been a wise decision. I should ha’ made an example of ’em, shown all what would happen to any who raised hand tae my wife.”
“We cannot hope to lead a clan by violence and force,” she countered.
Robbie shrugged. He knew plenty of lairds who did exactly that and managed well enough. It was not his way, not usually, but there were times when a firm response was required. His father had known that and told him so often enough. A laird could not afford to appear soft or in any way weak, since there would always be those who would exploit such perceived frailties. Angus was a prime example, and Robbie was convinced that was what had, in part, motivated Callum Fenwick to listen to Angus’s insane plan. The fool had actually thought he could pocket Mary Douglas’s bribe, abduct the English countess, and get away with it.
They now knew that the whole thing had been contrived by Angus. He had spent weeks whispering in Mary Douglas’s ear, stirring up her sense of outrage and fuelling her desire to be revenged. Callum Fenwick was probably the easier to manipulate. He was greedy as well as stupid, but most of all he relished violence. He must have thought the opportunity was heaven-sent. But Angus had acted as the go-between, the mastermind, carrying messages to the Fenwicks and hatching the plot to kidnap Katherine.
He had met a fitting end, and a regrettably merciful one. No one at Roxburghe or on the MacKinnon lands would mourn Angus’s passing, not even his wife.
As for Lady Douglas, the more he thought of the matter, the more convinced Robbie became that she was just plain deluded. Driven by greed, ambition, and a towering sense of pride, she had convinced herself that her family had been slighted. When presented with an opportunity to be avenged, she took it, again assuming that the Earl of Roxburghe would not take decisive action to defend his wife.
She was wrong. The Fenwick was wrong, and Angus. Robbie saw that, as did the king. Now, it only remained to make that fact clear to the rest of the clans.
Mary Douglas was sister to the current laird, the Earl of Douglas, but it was generally known that the two were not close. Thus far, Archibald Douglas had failed to make representations on behalf of his sister, and Robbie was not convinced that he would. The Douglas would prefer not to incur royal disfavour and would likely consider his foolhardy sister expendable.
Lady Joan and Lady Elizabeth Stuart were another matter. They were kin to James himself, though somewhat distant. They might well presume upon royal protection and leniency, though to what extent that would help them, Robbie was uncertain.
As for the raggle-taggle mob of Fenwicks currently languishing deep in the bowels of the castle, Robbie entertained not a shred of compassion. As far as he was concerned, and James, too, their fate was settled. They would hang in three days’ time, and their remains would dangle from the city walls as a clear signal to anyone else harbouring similarly dark intentions.
He swung his feet from the stool and stood upright. A jug of wine had been left out for them, and he poured two goblets. He handed one to Kat.
“We should leave the Stuart women to James, since he wouldnae thank us for interfering within his own kin.”
“What will he do?” Kat asked, contemplating her wine uneasily.
Robbie considered the matter for a moment. “I expect he will banish them from court,” he replied, “but he will probably allow Joan tae return at some point. He always rather liked her, an’ she was helpful, eventually.”
This news appeared to mollify Kat. Clearly, she considered banishment a minor inconvenience, not being greatly enamoured of life at court herself. Robbie knew full well, though, that for those accustomed to existing within the king’s orbit, such exile would be both humiliating and represent a catastrophic fall from grace. The Stuart ladies would be mortified.
“And Lady Mary?” Kat prompted. “She, too, has powerful connections.”
“I doubt her brother will defend her. She deserves tae find herself bound hand an’ foot an’ flung in the Nor’loch,” Robbie growled. What was more, he considered that the most likely outcome. James harboured no love for the haughty Douglas woman and had been enraged by her machinations and plotting with Angus MacKinnon, and by her refusal to accept a marriage sanctioned by the monarch himself. If she could but see it, the king’s own royal authority had been undermined, and he was sure James would not permit that to go unpunished.
Kat paled. “The king would not do that,” she breathed.
“Ye have a better idea, sweetheart?” He set his goblet aside and moved to stand before her, his palms upon her shoulders. “Her crime was monstrous. She handed ye over tae our enemies, knowin’ full well what your fate would be. She meant tae have ye murdered and might ha’ succeeded had we no’ got the truth out o’ Lady Joan in time.”
“I know that.” She shuddered. “I was so scared. I thought…”
He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. “Ye’re safe now, but we need tae make sure it stays that way. Mary Douglas must be made an example of.”
“She led me down there, all the while knowing…”
“Exactly.” He kissed her hair. “She does not deserve your mercy now. She showed you none.”
Kat nodded within his embrace. “I shall not speak up for her, but even so…”
Robbie did not answer. He now knew what he would say to James before they departed for the continent. That settled, he could turn his mind to more pleasant matters.
“You appear tae be overdressed, my love.”
“You dismissed the maid, so you will have to help me to undress,” Kat informed him. “If you could just unfasten the laces at the back…”
It was a task Robbie would never tire of. He moved around to loosen the ties running down his wife’s spine. The bodice of her rather fetching blue gown parted to reveal the chemise beneath.
“Shall I assist wi’ the skirts, too?”
She shook her head. “I can manage from here. Finish your wine.”
