Page 32 of A Laird and a Gentleman

“Gentlemen,” Cameron interjected, his gaze watchful. “Any disillusionment you feel should be directed at me, not the lady. I mistakenly brought you here. If you require further compensation for the inconvenience, I would be happy to discuss such with you in private. For now, let us enjoy this delicious meal. Agreed?”

Both men nodded. If it were possible, David’s features grew even more pasty, while Peter’s expression became neutral, as though he were still deciding whether to push for more or be happy with what he had been offered.

Mariam was simply relieved as the conversation shifted away from her. For the remainder of the evening she listened to the men talk of politics, the world, and local events. If she had any opinions, she kept them to herself. The only thing she longed for was that the evening would come to an end. Once it did, she would politely bid the gentlemen farewell and be thankful Cameron had allowed her to slip away from marriage to either of these men.

If she were to agree to marry, it would be to someone like—she blocked the thought before it could fully form. Of its own volition, her gaze sought out Cameron’s. His was a face she thought she knew well, until just two days ago when she had noticed the flecks of gold in his gray eyes. When she realized she was staring, she averted her gaze. She lifted her goblet to her lips and drank deeply until she became aware she was not the only one who had been staring. David’s appraising gaze moved over her, as though assessing who and what she was. Had he heard the rumors as well?

“A quiet meal in the country must not be very stimulating for a woman such as yourself,” David said to Mariam. “I heard you spent some time at King James’s court not long ago? Tell me, what was it like?”

She had spent three days at Falkland Palace after she left her father’s house in North Berwick and before she’d traveled to Ravenscraig as Cameron’s ward. The queen had been responsible for her coming under Cameron’s protection after the king brought her father into the witch trials as his pricker. In those three days at Falkland, she’d never left her chamber. Not once. But that was not what the man wanted to hear.

“Laird Sinclair has had much more experience at court than I. I must admit, I prefer the solitude of the countryside to the pageantry of court.”

“That is a shame.” The words rang with disappointment. “I long to leave the country and my estate behind me for a more jovial life. I am exceedingly clever with numbers. Over the years, my estate has flourished and my accounts have grown exponentially. I have written several times to His Grace, offering my services for his benefit, with not a single reply.”

“I doubt King James had received any of your messages. His secretary handles his correspondence,” Cameron explained. “I am heading to Falkland on the morrow. If you wish to write another missive, I will hand it to him personally and vouch for your proficiency to the man himself.”

He was leaving? Mariam let out her breath slowly, afraid that if she spoke, or moved, or even closed her eyes she would shatter. Cameron had promised her he would take her to the Isle of May. She only had five more days to determine what the note in her shell had meant. In a haze of disbelief, she watched the men before her.

David startled, and pink tinged his otherwise pasty cheeks. “You would do that for me?”

“If that’s where your heart lies, then it would be my pleasure,” Cameron replied without looking at his ward. “I’ll have Hobbins bring you parchment and ink after we are finished here.”

David stood, the legs of his chair scraping on the flagstone floor. “I’m finished, and I’m eager to get started on that letter, if I might.”

Cameron signaled across the chamber to Hobbins, who came quickly to his laird’s side. “Hobbins, please escort Laird Sibbald to his chamber then bring him writing supplies.”

Hobbins nodded and escorted their guest away. When only the three of them remained at the table, Peter drained his goblet, then set it down before he also stood and excused himself. “Thank you for a memorable evening, Lady Mariam, Laird Cameron. I will see myself back to my chamber.”

Seeing that their guests had departed, the others in the chamber made their way out, until only she and Cameron remained sitting at the table. When they were alone, Cameron finally returned his gaze to hers. “I have no choice but to leave, Mariam.” He reached over and tugged on one end of the bow about her neck, letting the ribbon slide from her flesh. “My men told me what had happened. Are you truly unharmed as they reported?”

Mariam nodded, unable to push a single word past the dryness in her throat.

“I cannot hold your father prisoner here forever, as much as I’d like to do that and more to the man.” Cameron smoothed a finger over the abused flesh at her neck. “I promised you no one would hurt you. I cannot risk your father coming near you again. It is better to rid ourselves of him.”

She stiffened in her chair. “You wouldn’t kill him?”

“Nay.” His tone was low, but savage. “Destiny will wreak its own havoc on your father in time. I will not be like him and pass judgment on his flesh.”

Mariam let out a breath in a long, defeated sigh. “You’ll return in two days?”

He nodded. “I wanted to tell you earlier, once I’d made the decisions, but then our guests arrived.”

“Your guests.”

He chuckled. “All right, my guests, who will also depart in the morning. I’m leaving Ian and a full company of men here at the castle with orders to watch over you. They won’t let anything happen to you.” He leaned forward in his seat, so his hand could touch her cheek. “Alexander should return any day now with Vivian and Quinn Douglas. I sent for Vivian, another woman who was accused of being possessed of certain skills, to come and advise you.”

He still could not acknowledge her skills for what they were. “You mean she is magical?”

After a pause, he finally nodded. “If that is what you choose to call yourself, then so be it. Being alike as you are, I hope Vivian will bring you comfort.” He reached for her hand, curling his fingers around hers.

“Why?”

“Why bring Vivian here?”

She shook her head as a strange sensation burned at the backs of her eyes. “Why go to the trouble . . . for me? I have not always been as good as I should have been—to you, and so many others.”

“That’s in the past. Today is what matters. And today I see a woman before me who is strong, and brave, and resilient.”