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lost
monarch. Was Edward waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike?
A soft knock brought her back to reality, jerking her out of her thoughts. "Ente
r,"
she said softly so as not to wake Alexander who was still asleep.
"There is a message, my lady," confessed a gentle voice from the other side of t
he
door. "It has just arrived for you."
Gathering the edges of her dressing gown together, Catherine padded quietly over
to the door and opened it, stepping behind the confines and drawing it closed be
hind her.
"Where did it come from?"
The servant girl shook her head. "I know not, my lady. The only spoken message
with it is that you must read it immediately."
Her servant thrust the parchment toward her and she accepted it with trembling
fingers. "Much thanks," she mumbled and opened the door, stepping back into the
room
as quietly as she had left it. The girl curtseyed and exited the hallway with th
e soft swish
of leather clad feet.
Catherine's heart pounded, the thrumming steady in her ears. Where had this come
from? Nervously, she turned it over in her hands to look at the seal.
Her blood pooled in her feet.
It was Duncan's stamp.
Her hand went to her mouth as she half-stumbled over toward the roaring
fireplace and sank into the deeply padded chair. Tears formed in the corners of
her eyes.
Was Duncan dead? Despite her anger with him, ill will was not something she wish
ed
for him.
Slight murmurs emanated from the bed followed but the gentle rustle of material.
Catherine looked over quickly to see Alexander turn over to his belly, her breat
h holding
in her chest. This missive was not something she wanted him to see.
Once she had him settled, she turned her attention back to her letter. Was she
ready to read the contents? Aye, she was. With quick fingers, she broke the seal
and let
the slivers of red wax rain on the floor. Upon opening it, spiky but familiar sc
ript greeted
her.
Dearest sister,
There are no words that can convey my sorrow at what I have done. The English
have duped me of everything they had promised. Now I have nothing left. Please,
THE WARLORD S WOMAN Tracy L. Ranson
Catherine, let me redeem myself. I want to bring you home so you can wed Robert
and
take the crown that is rightfully yours. Do not think this to be another trap be
cause it is
not. Robert has agreed to wed you and become your protectorate no matter what co
ndition
you would be in upon your return. Think not only of Scotland but yourself. The c
lans
need to be united under one crown and with Robert by your side, this can be achi
eved.
Robert is strong not only in military tactics as well as money and army but his
influence
with the clans is even stronger.
Please consider what I have said and agree to meet me in a month so that I can
bring you home.
Your loving brother,
Duncan
Catherine's blood turned cold as she read the words again, her tears falling to
the
pale yellow parchment. Duncan was alive and for that she was grateful but his ba
rgaining
for her hand was not something she would stand for a second time. "No," she said
in a
whispery tone, her hands curling the edges of the paper.
Alexander, once deep in sleep, jerked out of it and turned over at the sound of
her
voice. "Catherine? What 'tis the matter?" he said sleepily
"Nothing," she sniffed as she stood up, the parchment still clutched in her
trembling fingers.
Alexander's gaze flicked to her hand. "What is that you are holding?"
"'Tis my concern, Alexander," she remarked as she rolled it up. "Not yours."
"It is if it upsets you so," he said, his tone becoming deeper and indicating hi
s
rising anger. "Bring it to me."
"No."
"Catherine, I do not ask twice."
With a quick flick of her wrist, Catherine threw it onto the fire. If Alexander
read
it, the message would certainly sign Duncan's death warrant. "If you can get it
from the
fire before it turns to ashes, then you are most welcome to read it," she said a
s she sank
back down into the chair and covered her face with her hands. Her body trembled
as the
sobs racked her, the emotions inside riding along as though they were composed o
f
waves. Why could Duncan not leave her alone?
Alexander rose from the bed and walked toward her, his naked body a testament
to perfection. "You should not have done that, Catherine. When I say...."
"Please, Alexander, I do not wish to hear your 'I am the Master' tome again. All
I
want is to be left alone."
His face contorted into a mask of confusion as he knelt on the floor next to her
.
"Forgive me, Catherine, I sometimes forget that I am no longer an overbearing ty
rant.
What did the letter say?"
"Duncan is dead," she lied as sobs racked her body. "A fever took him and he was
buried in Scone shortly after our wedding."
THE WARLORD S WOMAN Tracy L. Ranson
"My poor dear," he said softly as he rose and swept her into his arms. "Come bac
k
to bed and sleep."
Catherine buried her face into the warm crook of his neck and let the tears flow
.
Duncan may have well been dead as far as she was concerned. The only real questi
on
remaining now was Scotland. She was deeply in love with Alexander but she also h
eld a
fierce love for Scotland. Whom should she choose?
****
"I thought I would find you here."
Alexander looked up, tearing his gaze away from Riana's ornate casket as it rest
ed
against the back of the altar in the chapel, carefully fastened in the niche cre
ated for it. "I
did not know you were looking for me."
Longworth chuckled slightly as he stepped inside of the sacred chapel. "I spoke
to
Catherine this morning and she said you seemed barely yourself as of late. Since
this is
the only place you go when you are that way, I decided to come."
Alexander crossed himself and stood up from the prie dieu, turning around
quickly. "I came to be alone, Longworth. If there is nothing pressing that you w
ish to
speak to me about...."
"Aye, there is something pressing, my friend. It's Catherine."
His heart fell to his feet. "What about her?" The only thoughts swirling in his
mind were that she would soon be demanding to be returned to Scotland. He could
not let
her go.
"She seems to think you have been upset with her these last few days. You barely
talk to her and only grunt your responses. What is vexing you, my friend?" The c
oncern
in Longworth's voice was touching but this was definitely something he had to de
al with
on his own.
"Nothing, Longworth. Now if you will remove yourself from this chapel, I would
be most agreeable," he snapped, silently wishing that his friend would leave.
"Nay, Alexander. I refuse to sit back and let you push Catherine away from you,"
Longworth announced as he sank down into one of the pews. "If you do, then it wi
ll be
your undoing. Is that what you wish?"
Alexander blinked hard as his heart thumped uneasily in his chest. "Nay, it is n
ot,
Longworth. I do not care to discuss it further."
"So be it," Longworth announced as he rose from the pew and brushed the stray
locks of blond hair from his eyes. "Before I take my leave, I want to say someth
ing to
you. I do not care if it infuriates you, but I will say it anyway. Forgive yours
elf for
Riana's death. She already has."
Alexander crossed his arms as the anger thrummed through him. How dare
Longworth presume to know what his thoughts were. "If you must know, I already h
ave
THE WARLORD S WOMAN Tracy L. Ranson
asked for her forgiveness a long time ago, Longworth."
Longworth's blue gaze remained steady and clear, his face serene. "No, you have
not, Alexander. I have known you far too long to know that you have not come to
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