Highland Heart [070-011-4.0]

By: Ruth Langan

Synopsis:

amie MacDonalds was a lonely and dangerous task unite the feuding
Highland clans against a traitor's conspiracy.  His desperate search
for allies led him to Clan Gordon and, against his better judgement,
into the arms of Lindsey Gordon, proud, wilful daughter of too fearsome
reputation of the red-bearded giant they called the Heartless
MacDonald, and she cared little for his rough ways.  Yet, even as she
struggled in his unwelcome embrace, she longed for the noble heart that
this warrior.



ISBN 0263823156

Historical Romance.  rich, vivid and passionate "I want you to leave
me alone"

For the space of a heartbeat, Jamie studied her.

"That is why you came looking for me in the darkness?"

"I was not looking for you, I was returning to my bed."

His voice was a low whisper that sent tremors through her.

"But now that you are here, do you know what I want?"  He lowered his
face to hers.

Her breath caught in her throat.

"Release me at once."

Against her lips he murmured, "Woman, you would be wiser to command a
waterfall to stop."

Ruth Langan traces her ancestry to Scotland and Ireland.  It is no
surprise, then, that she feels a kinship with the characters in her
historical novels.  Married to her childhood sweetheart, she has raised
five children and lives in Michigan, the state where she was born and
raised.

Recent titles by the same author:

HIGHLAND FIRE

HIGHLAND HEATHER

HIGHLAND BARBARIAN

TEXAS HERO

Ruth Langan

MILLS BOON

To Caitlin Bea Shrader, And to her proud and happy parents, Mary and
Dennis.  And, as always, to Tom.

Who started it all in first grade, With a piece of bubble gum.

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All the characters in this book have no existence outside the
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bearing the same name or names.  They are not even distantly inspired
by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents
are pure invention.

All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in
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trademarks of the publisher.

First published in Great Britain 2000 Harlequin Mills & Boon Limited,
Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

Ruth Ryan Langan 1992 ISBN 0 263 82315 6

Set in Times Roman 10 on'll1/4 pt.  04000882111 Printed and bound in
Spain by Litografia Roses S.

A.

" Barcelona Prologue

The Scottish Highlands, 1566

Outside Kinloch House the Highland soldiers stood shoulder to shoulder,
ringing the fortress, oblivious to the March cold.  Theirs was a death
watch.  They would not leave as long as their leader had a breath left
in him.

Inside, Brice Campbell, known throughout the land as the Highland
Barbarian, lay barely clinging to life.

Riders had gone out to the far corners of the land to call his loved
ones home to keep watch with his beloved wife, Meredith.  From England
had come Brenna MacAlpin and her husband, Morgan Grey, and their two
young sons.  From Ireland, the fiery Megan MacAlpin and her husband,
Kieran O'Mara, bearing their first-born, Sean.

Highland chieftains arrived with their soldiers to pace the rooms of
the ancient keep.  Some, like Angus Gordon, were boyhood friends whose
hearts were heavy.  Others, who had been privileged to fight alongside
this noble rebel, waited and watched in shocked silence.

Wind swept down the chimney, scattering ash and sparks.  A flame
sputtered and nearly died, then snaked along the bark of a log until it
leaped into a blaze of light.  The men and women clung together, as
much to seek com fort as to give it.

Their children, having quickly overcome their shyness at the many
strange dialects, were becoming acquainted.  But even their voices were
strangely subdued as they sensed the somberness of the occasion.  The
servants moved around as if in a daze.  A cluster of hounds ringed the
fireplace, glancing up nervously at each footfall.

The silence was shattered by the sound of the massive front doors being
opened.  A moment later a red-bearded giant paused on the threshold. 
His gaze swept the room, then lifted to the woman who was descending
the stairs.  Her figure was slender as a maiden's.  Her gown of scarlet
satin was partially covered by the Campbell plaid.  Thick chestnut hair
spilled over one shoulder.  She carried an infant in her arms.  Handing
the infant to a servant, she hurried forward.

"Oh, Jamie.  Praise heaven, you have come."  The lovely Lady Meredith
hurried forward and clasped him in a warm embrace.

"I feared you would not be in time."

"I came as soon as your messenger arrived."  He studied her red-rimmed
eyes and the fine lines around her mouth.  Seeing the weariness etched
on Meredith's beautiful features, he drew her into his arms and pressed
his lips to her hair.  She was the closest thing to a mother he had
ever known.  He had been overjoyed when, years before, she had fallen
in love with his foster father and had agreed to make her home with
them at Kinloch House.

"Bfice..."  He could not bring himself to ask the words that would tell
him if Brice Campbell lived or died.  The unspoken question hung
between them.

"He is gravely wounded.  But he lives."  She saw the relief on Jamie's
face.

"You have nursed him through grave wounds before, Meredith.  He will
mend; you will see.  You are his reason for living."

"Aye.  I pray it is so.  But his fate is in God's hands now."  She
blinked back the tears that threatened.

"Brice insists upon seeing you as soon as you arrive."

"Aye.  I would see him now."

She lifted her skirts and led the way.  As he followed her up the
stairs he said sternly, "Tell me of this strange attack.  Your
messenger said it was in the queen's own household.  Can this be?"

"Aye."  Meredith paused at the head of the stairs.

"We were invited to sup with Mary at Holyrood.  She is confined these
days, since she is with child."  With a slight smile she added, "Mary
has always enjoyed Brice's company.  And now that her marriage to Lord
Darnley is so unhappy, she surrounds herself with old friends to cheer
her."

At the mention of Darnley, Jamie's frown deepened.  He had heard the
rumors of the queen's husband.  Drinking, gambling, womanizing.  If
even half were true, the rake was breaking their poor young queen's
tender heart.

"During dinner, Lord Ruthven staggered in.  At first we feared he had
drunk too much ale.  But then, seeing the dagger in his hand, Brice
pushed from the table to bar his way.  But at the same moment Lord
Darnley appeared with several other noblemen.  Seeing them, Brice
rushed to Mary's defense, thinking they meant to harm her."

Jamie felt his heart stop.

"Has our queen been harmed?"

"Nay, praise God.  Thanks only to Brice.  But poor Riccio."

"It is true then that Mary's secretary is dead?"

"Aye," Meredith whispered, suppressing a shiver.

"George Douglas used Lord Darnley's own dagger for the bloody deed.  He
and Lord Ruthven must have stabbed young Riccio more than fifty times
before flinging his body down the staircase.  The queen was near
hysteria."

"And Brice?"  Jamie's eyes narrowed.

"Which one held the knife that caused his wounds?"

"In the confusion, I could not see.  There were servants weeping, and
the queen herself was kneeling over Brice's body, crying out for her
beloved Highland Barbarian."  Meredith trembled.

"I did not see who inflicted his wounds.  But the damage is great."

When they reached the door to the chamber, Meredith turned.

"You must not tax his strength.  He has lost much blood."

It was not Jamie's nature to feel fear.  In the past few years,
fighting along the border between England and Scot land, he had become
known as a fearless warrior.  He knew what others called him when they
thought he could not hear.  The Heartless MacDonald.  Aye, he was
heartless in the thick of battle.  But at the sight that greeted him,
Jamie felt his heart stop.

It was as if his veins had suddenly turned to ice.  He studied the face
of the man who was the only father he had ever known, now lying as
helpless as a wee hairn.  Brice's head was swathed in bandages.  Blood
seeped through the layers of fresh dressings.  One arm was held stiffly
at his side, covered with thick linen.  His chest rose and fell with
each labored breath.

Jamie stood for a moment, fighting the feelings that rip pled through
him.  Fear, rage, helplessness.  Pushing aside his emotions he knelt
until his face was close to Brice's.

"I am here," he whispered.

He watched as the older man's lids flickered, then opened.  There was
an unnatural pallor to his skin.

"I knew you would come."

Jamie's voice trembled with fury.

"I need only a name and I will avenge this terrible deed.  Tell me who
wielded the dirk.  By nightfall your enemy will lie in his own
blood."

"Nay.  It is more than vengeance you must seek."  The hand that grasped
Jamie's sleeve was surprisingly weak.  The man, who had withstood
assault from armies, who had enlarged his fortress in the Highlands and
had defended it against all attack, was now too weak to clench a fist.
Brice's eyes, though glazed with pain, fixed Jamie with the old
familiar look of command.

"Listen well.  Your first concern must be our queen, who was the true
target of this attack."

"Ruthven would kill our queen?"

"Not just Ruthven."  Brice struggled to speak over the pain that raged
with each word.

"I do not trust Darnley.  I do not trust anyone to see to the queen's
safety but you."

"Darnley!  How do I place myself between the queen and her own
husband?"

"I know not.  But you must find a way."  Brice took several deep
breaths, then forced himself to continue.

"Our poor land is in disarray.  The Highland lairds are in turmoil over
this treachery.

Unless someone steps forward to unite the clans, there will be an orgy
of killing, the likes of which has never before been witnessed in our
land.  "

Jamie's tone was low with anger.

"Look what they have done to you.  How can you speak of uniting the
clans?  What would you have me do?  Thank them for not killing Mer
edith and the queen as well?"

"Listen to me, Jamie."  Brice's voice faltered for a moment and
Meredith, alarmed by the drain to his energy, hurried forward to kneel
beside Jamie and touch a hand to her husband's brow.  Brice waved her
hand away and took a deep, pain-filled breath.

"I have known, from the time you were but a lad, that you were destined
for greatness."  At his words Jamie went very still.

When Jamie began to shake his head Brice clutched at the younger man's
arm and forced him to meet his gaze.

"You must take command of this ravaged land and protect our queen at
all cost.  First you must see to the queen's safety.  Take into your
confidence the Gordons, who are the most powerful among the Highland
chiefs.  Douglas Gor don's mother, Sabrina, was a favorite cousin to
our queen's mother.  When Mary's safety is secured, call a council of
all the Highland lairds.  Demand that they unite to keep the peace.
Else this great land will not have to fear an attack by the English. We
will be destroyed from within."

Jamie could see the wisdom of Brice's words.  But the thought of
uniting the warlike Highlanders was a daunting one.

His voice was deep with passion.

"You know I would do anything for you, Brice.  I will beseech them in
your name."

"Nay.  Not in my name."  Brice's eyes closed for a moment and Jamie
thought he had drifted into unconsciousness.  But a moment later his
lids opened.  The merest hint of a smile touched his lips.

"You will entreat them in your own name.  And however unwilling they
may be, you will lead them.  You shall be a leader like no other.  And
when Mary is safely delivered of her child, the name Jamie Mac Donald
will be revered throughout our land."

Jamie stared at the hand still clutching his arm.  Placing his hand
over Brice's, he said, "So long as you ask it, it will be done,
Brice."

"Aye.  I knew I could trust you with this heavy burden."

The burr in Jamie's voice thickened with emotion.

"It is no burden, Brice.  I am honored by your request."

Brice's hand dropped heavily to the pallet.  His lids flickered then
closed.

For several moments Jamie studied this man who, years before, had
opened his heart and his home to a poor, bewildered orphan.  Brice
Campbell had taught Jamie every value he held dear.  If Brice had
ordered him to cut off his own hand, he would do so without question.

Though he doubted that any of the Highland chieftains would heed his
summons to a council, he would send riders at once with the message.

And if he could place his sword and his life in service of his queen,
he would do so proudly.

With a last look at the sleeping Brice, he got to his feet.

"I ride to do his bidding," he said softly to Meredith.

"You must sup before you begin the journey."

"Nay.  There is no time."

"You must take time to rest, Jamie.  Else your heart will simply stop
beating."

"Have you not heard?"  He shot her a roguish smile.

"I am called the Heartless MacDonald."

She saw the weariness in his demeanor as he descended the stairs and
made his way to those who waited below.  He embraced Brenna and Megan
and greeted their husbands.  The children, recognizing the red-bearded
giant, launched themselves into his arms.  For a few moments his
tension eased as he tossed them in the air and hugged them close before
releasing them, Within minutes he had made his way to the door.  Mer
edith dropped her arms around the hairns, who clutched her skirts. 
From the doorway she watched as Jamie wearily draped the plaid around
his shoulders.  He had been in the saddle for hours without rest.  And
now, at Brice's request, he would push himself beyond exhaustion.  His
queen needed him.  His country needed him.  And he would give his last
breath if necessary.

From the surrounding forest a great shaggy hound suddenly emerged and
raced toward Jamie MacDonald.  When the beast was a few feet away it
paused.  Jamie spoke softly to it, and the animal cocked his head as if
understanding every word.  From her position in the doorway Meredith
called, "Your hound would not join the others indoors since you left
us, Jamie.  Neither would he eat what we tried to feed him.  He has
prowled the forest, living like a wild creature, awaiting your return."
" For a moment the man and beast faced each other.  Jamie gazed at the
hound, whose muted coloring of gray, ombr6, brown matched the shadows
of his Highland forest home.  With a practiced eye he studied the lean,
battle-scarred body, the fur matted with blood.

"So, Wolf, you give your loyalty but once," Jamie muttered.

"We are two of a kind.  You may as well journey with me into the
unknown."

Jamie gave a salute to Meredith before wheeling the stallion and taking
off at a run.  The hound kept pace without effort.

Meredith watched until they disappeared into the Highland mists.  Aye,
she thought, blinking back the sudden rush of tears.  The Heartless
MacDonald, indeed.

Chapter One

Rain filtered through the thick canopy of trees in the for est,
drenching the man who stood as still as a statue.  Jamie's gaze was
fixed on the courtyard of the fortress looming before him.  For nearly
two hours he had watched as the mounted men arrived, one after another,
to disappear inside the sprawling Gordon manor house.

These would be the sons, he decided.  He knew there were four of them,
though so far he could account for only three.  They, along with the
old chieftain, Douglas Gordon, would prove formidable opponents.  But
if he could get the fierce old warrior and his sons to work with him,
they would bring a dozen fractious claffs along with them.  First he
would have to get their attention; no easy task, since they respected
no one outside their own blood.  Then the trick would be to force them
to sit still long enough to hear what he had to say.  With so many of
them, he was apt to find himself at the p6int of a sword before his
first words could be spoken.

Jamie touched a hand to the stiffness of his shoulder, the lingering
effects of an old battle wound.  All those hours in the saddle, and now
the rain that chilled him clear to the bone, were taking their toll.

He yearned for a warm fire and a soft bed.  With a trace of impatience
he shook his head to clear his mind of such annoying thoughts.  He
could not afford to allow himself any distractions.

These Gordons were fighters like himself.  They would not willingly
listen to talk of peace among the Highland clans.  Nor would they
respect a man who came, that in hand, to ask their help.  It would take
bold measures to get their attention.  And even bolder measures to
enlist their aid.  He had not yet decided just what those bold measures
would be.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a sudden movement and forced
himself to remain motionless.  As the rider passed, Jamie noted the
stubble of dark beard in a brooding, handsome face.  The lad's that was
worn at a rakish angle.  His dark eyes gleamed with the sleek, smug
look of a cat that had just stolen his master's cream.  This would be
Donald Gordon, the second son, a rebel, and by all accounts a man who
loved the wenches.

Jamie gave a satisfied nod.  At last all the sons were accounted for.

Now he would wait and watch for an opportunity to catch them
unawares.

"So, laddie, you've finally come home."  Murray Gordon, touching a hand
to his newly cultivated beard, gave his brother a lingering look.

"We were just about to break our fast.  You'd best have an explanation
ready.  Father was planning to have Robbie and Neal comb the village
until they found you, even if it meant searching every maiden's bed."

Donald Gordon gave his elder brother a wink.

"They'd have had to look no farther than the widow Lennox's cottage."

"The widow Lennox?"  Murray's mouth dropped before he added, "Have you
cut such a swath through the eligible wenches that you are now reduced
to the charms of that plump baggage?"

Donald threw back his head and roared.

"Not the widow, you dolt.  Her fetching daughter."

Murray shot him a withering look.

"Why, she's no more than a child."

"A child?"  Donald tossed his cloak on a peg and shook the rain from
his hair.  Turning to his brother he said with a grin, "While you were
looking the other way, that child grew into a very charming lass."  He
dropped his arm around Murray's shoulder as they strode toward the
refectory.

"And believe me, she was most eager that I sample all her charms."

Both men threw back their heads and roared.  The laughter died on their
lips when they caught sight of the stern countenance of their father.

Douglas Gordon, seated at the head of the table speared them with a
look of righteous anger.

"How kind of you to spare your family a few moments of your precious
time, Donald.  It seems you can no longer sleep in your own bed."

"There are so many more--interesting beds in the village," Donald said
as he seated himself.

Douglas slammed his fist on the table sending the dishes clattering.

Everyone in the room fell silent.

"Have I raised a son, or a rutting goat?"

"By all accounts, Father, I am fiaerely following in your glorious
footsteps."

Someone snickered.

Douglas Gordon's eyes narrowed.  It was clear the lad had touched a
nerve.  He spoke in a tone of regret.

"Aye.  I fear I was guilty of wenching in my youth."

He fell silent as his only daughter circled the table to fill his
goblet.  His gaze softened.  How like his dear wife Lindsey had
become.

She had inherited her mother's thick, auburn hair, framing the face of
an angel.  Her slight, slender stature seemed even more pronounced
because of a limp, which was only noticeable when Lindsey was agitated
or weary.  It was the result of a childhood injury that had nearly
devastated her loving parents.

Her mother had died when Lindsey was but a child, and Douglas had done
what any father would do; he had simply taken the girl with him and
treated her the same way he treated his sons.  The lass, surrounded by
a warrior father and four brothers, had abandoned all attempts at
feminine pursuits.

Despite her physical frailty, the lass possessed an indomitable spirit
and a bright, logical mind.  She had mastered the use of small weapons
as easily as her brothers.  The broadsword and longbow, however,
required more strength than she possessed.

Douglas knew that if she had been born a male, she would have been his
first choice to inherit the leadership of this fierce clan.

Realizing his family had grown uncomfortably silent, Douglas struggled
to pull himself back from his somber thoughts.

"My wenching ended the moment I met Diedre.  I want you to know that
from then on, there was never another lass who could turn my head,"
Heating the pain in his tone, Lindsey Gordon brushed a kiss over her
father's shaggy eyebrow.

"Aye.  I remember the love shining between the two of you.  We all
share your pain."  Her warning gaze swept her brothers around the,
table.

"Do we not?"

'"Twas a love like no other," Murray said in quick agreement.

Lindsey signaled to a servant, who filled the other goblets.

"When I meet the woman of my dreams, my wenching days will be over as
well," Donald said defiantly.

His words were greeted with hoots of laughter from his sister and
brothers.

"The woman of your dreams."  Neal, the youngest, turned to the brother
closest in age to him, whose sun kissed hair and fair features caused
many a village lass to turn and stare.

"Tell me, Robbie.  Has Donald been reading your poetry?"

'"Twould seem so.  Tell us about this dream vision," Robbie said,
winking at his sister as she took the seat beside him.

"It wouldn't do to fill your head.  You'd best keep your thoughts on
those pretty words you write, Rob.  And leave the wenches to me."

Lindsey joined in the laughter.

"Describe this woman to me, Donald.

Mayhap I will find her for you among the village wenches.  "

"I need no help from my sister to find my future wife."  Donald lifted
his goblet, ignoring the jeers of laughter from the others.

"Will she have big----eyes, like the widow Lennox?"  Even Donald found
himself laughing at that.  But one look at his father's face wiped the
smile from his lips.  Usually the old man was the first to join in the
laughter and teasing.  But this day he was in a somber mood.

"What is it, Father?  What troubles you this morrow?"

"We speak of foolishness while there are rumors of turmoil at
Holyrood."

"Turmoil."  At the mention of Holyrood, the queen's residence in
Edinburgh, Murray's head came up sharply.  "what have you heard?"

"Rumors.  Gossip.  No one seems to know anything.  But 'tis whispered
that the queen and her husband are far from happy."

"Is there not soon fo be a child?"  Lindsey asked.

"Aye?"

"Then what can be wrong?  They are so newly wed."

"There are those who say the queen's foolish young husband, Lord
Darnley, would make our Donald look like a mere jester among the women
at court."  He glanced around the table at his children.

"If such whispers have reached us here in the Highlands, do you not
think Queen Mary herself has heard the rumors?  And is surely
disheartened by them?"

Neal, the youngest, broke the silence.

"Mary is queen.  Can she not command Darnley to love only her?"

Everyone burst into peals of laughter.  Lindsey touched a hand to his
cheek, but he pulled away sharply, embarrassed to be petted like a
child.  He was, after all, ten and six years, and taller than two of
his brothers.  Only Donald was taller, taller even than their father.

"Why does that amuse all of you?"

"Because," Lindsey said patiently, "even the queen cannot command
someone to love her.  Love cannot be ordered about.  Love just happens,
without reason."

"And how would you know about such things?"  Murray asked.  As the
eldest, he felt a keen sense of responsibility toward his sister.  She
was, after all, still a maiden.

"Mayhap she has been reading your poetry, Robbie," Neal called out with
a laugh.

"What care I about love?"  Lindsey snatched up her gob let, suddenly
stung by their teasing.  '"Twould only mean having another man
underfoot."

"That would not be the worst thing to happen to you," Donald said with
a sly laugh.

"It is time you gave some thought to taking a husband and filling this
old house with children."

"I thought I would save that privilege for you, Donald.  Since there
are so many willing maidens hoping to catch your eye."  "If the truth
be told, there are far too many to make a choice.  You, on the other
hand, have had so little experience with the lads, any sturdy bumpkin
should do nicely.  Perhaps you would like us to pick him out for
you."

"I shall do my own choosing, thank you."  Lindsey pushed away from the
table.

"If you will excuse me, Fa- tiler, I will see to the servants preparing
our meal."

"Aye, lass."  Douglas watched as she flounced from the room, then
commanded softly, "Mind your tongues around Lindsey.  She should not be
forced to listen to your crude remarks."

"She is usually the one who makes them," Neal pro tested.  He
remembered the first time he had heard his sister swear.  She would
have put a soldier to shame.

Douglas chose to overlook his son's comment.  Despite his daughter's
quick temper, she was the light of his life.  Though she went about her
chores without complaint, Douglas sensed her loneliness at times.

Despite the fact that theirs was a lively, raucous family, he knew that
his daughter had been denied the company of other women.  Her isolation
had given her a simple innocence that, to him, was refreshing.

But to those beyond these secluded hills she would no doubt appear too
artless.

He emptied his goblet and glanced at the sons seated to his right and
left.  Their talk soon turned, as always, to the state of their country
and their beloved young queen.

Lindsey gathered the last of the eggs into her apron and headed for.

the house.  Usually such mundane chores were given over to a servant,
but she had a need to escape the confines of the four walls, despite
the weather.  A bitter rain was nothing compared with the stbrm that
raged within between her brothers and her father.

Theirs was a prickly, combative family, and though she loved them
dearly, there were times when she would have gratefully strangled her
overbearing menfolk.  At such times she fled to the solitude" of the
forest.  Today, because of the weather, she would content herself with
a brief foray into the rain-soaked acreage that ringed their
fortress.

All the talk between her father and brothers, if shouts and resounding
oaths could be called talk, centered b. round the rumors of turmoil at
Holyrood, the queen's official residence in Edinburgh.  Turmoil, she
thought.  The queen should live with Douglas Gordon and his four sons.
If they weren't brooding over Donald and his wenches, they were arguing
over Murray's long-standing feud with the Robertsons, or Robbie's
rambling, poetic missives to an unnamed maiden, or the never-ending
tensions that simmered between Scotland and England.

One day soon, Lindsey knew, the warlike Highlanders could be called
upon to defend their country against the aggressions of England.  The
thought of it did not frighten her.  All her life she had Watched her
father and brothers go off to do battle.  She had seen her poor
mother's heart broken by the thought of losing her adored husband and
sons to the sword.  Lindsey's lips tightened.  Instead it was her dear
mother who had died young.  Far too young.  And left a family washed in
grief.

Lindsey could still recall those early years, when she and Neal were
left behind while her father and older brothers went off to do
battle.

She had cried out at the injustice of it.  There was still a lingering
trace of guilt that, because of her mother's untimely death, she had
been granted her wish.  From that day on her father had seen to it that
all his children, including his daughter, accompanied him every
where.

Those forays into battle had convinced Lindsey that she would never be
content to stay at home while her men went off on their adventures.

Perhaps Lindsey was distracted by her thoughts.  Or perhaps she had
taken on too many chores this day.  For what ever reason, she let down
her guard for a moment.  In the softly falling rain she heard the
crackle of a branch just moments before an arm came round her waist and
a big hand closed over her mouth.  The hem of her apron slipped from
nerveless fingers.  Eggs tumbled to the ground, their contents mingling
with the rain to run in sticky yellow rivers at her feet.

Her scream was abruptly choked off.

Her heart hammered in her temples as a rough voice warned, "Not a word,
lass, or I shall have to break your pretty neck."  She felt the heat of
her attacker's breath as he said, "Do as I say and you will not be
harmed.  Do you understand?"

She swallowed the terror that clogged her throat and nodded

"I wish only to speak to your master.  I mean him no harm.  You will
lead me through his keep by way of the scullery."

Lindsey's mind raced.  The lout thought she was a servant.  If he were
to learn the truth, she would be in far greater danger.  She must keep
up the charade until she thought of a way to warn her family of this
invader.

Feigning weakness, she slumped against him.  With a muttered oath Jamie
lowered her to the wet grass.  He had not meant to harm this female,
but ofttimes he did not know his own strength.  As he knelt beside her
his breath caught in his throat.  God in heaven.  Close up, she was far
lovelier than he had expected.  Thick tangles of russet hair fell to
her waist.  Damp little tendrils kissed her cheeks in a most becoming
fashion.  Her oval face was accentuated by high cheekbones and a tiny,
upturned nose, and her lips were full and ripe.  As her lids fluttered
he found himself staring into eyes that rivaled the queen's emeralds.

He cursed this damnably hysterical female for her beauty and her
weakness.  He was unprepared for either.  He had expected to bully the
servant into leading him to her master.  Now his gallantry would not
permit it.  He would have to carry her.  A not altogether unpleasant
task.

Sweeping her into his arms, he lifted her as easily as if she were a
hairn.  With quick strides he began to pick his way through the wet
grass toward the scullery.

As the giant carded her, Lindsey plotted her next move.  Those few
moments had bought her time to study this stranger.  From the weapons
he carried, he was no ordinary traveler.  The hilt of the sword at his
waist glinted with gold and precious jewels, proving him to be a man of
some wealth and measure.  Unless, she thought with a tremor of new
fear, he had stolen the sword from an unfortunate nobleman She pushed
aside that thought and concentrated on the matter at hand.  The sword's
blade was honed to a razor edge.  A fighter's sword, not a gentleman's
weapon. She had counted three dirks, one at his waistband and one at
each boot.

She could not allow this villain to catch her father and brothers
unaware.  Somehow she must warn them of his presence.

As he cradled her to his chest, Jamie glanced down at the sweep of
thick lashes that shielded her eyes from his view.  He seized the
moment to study her flawless complexion and felt the sudden, unwelcome
stirring in his loins.  Had he encountered this female at some other
place and time, he would have savored her wild, primitive beauty.  But
at this moment he wanted nothing more than to present his offer to the
Gordon clan and be on his way to Edinburgh to be with his queen. 
Still, he could not ignore the fragrance of evergreen and wildflowers
that drifted gently from her hair and clothes, enveloping him in the
sweetest perfume.  She was a most fetching distraction.

At the door to the scullery Jamie paused.  Hearing no sound from
within, he kicked open the door and strode inside.

The woman in his arms moaned.  Alarmed, he set her down on a rug by the
hearth and knelt beside her.

"Are you hurt, lass?  Is something wrong?"

"Water," she rasped, keeping her eyes firmly closed.

"Please, sir, I have need of water quickly."

Her voice was soft, almost husky.  It was unlike any fe male voice he
had ever heard, whispering over his senses in a way that disturbed him
greatly.  Still, he reminded him self, he had not come here to be
charmed by a voice.  There was desperate work to be done.

As he knelt over her she watched from beneath half- closed lids and
tried again.

"Please.  Water."

"Aye."  Reluctantly Jamie crossed the room and filled a dipper from a
bucket.  From the corner of his eye he saw the flash of color and
turned in time to see the girl racing toward the doorway leading to the
refectory.

"By the gods!"  In swift strides he caught up with her.  She gave out a
loud scream as a big hand closed over her shoulder, stopping her in
mid-stride.  She heard her garment tear as he twisted her roughly in
his arms.

"I meant you no harm, lass."

"You think me daft?"  Her eyes flashed as she struggled to break
free.

"Once you have killed the others, you will see there are no witnesses
to your crime."

"I mean no harm to those who dwell here.  I come in peace to ask a
favor of the Gordons."

"Oh, aye.  And that is why you sneak around the scullery like a
thief."

"My mission is one of peace.  But I must gain their attention before I
can gain their ear."

His words were soft.  Soft and clever.  She would not be fooled by the
look of sincerity in those eyes.

"Liar!"

In their struggles his hand encountered the softness of her breast.

Though small and slender, her figure was undeniably, womanly.  He
glanced down and saw the flush upon her cheeks.  A moment later he gave
out a yelp of pain when her teeth sank into his hand.  When he jerked
his hand away, his blood stained the front of her gown.

"Damn you, wench.  Will you not listen to reason?  I swear to you..."

The rest of his words died in his throat when he glanced down and saw
that the lass was holding his dirk in her hand.

She leaped forward, the knife aimed at his heart.  In one quick motion
he caught her hand and wrenched the knife free.  It clattered to the
floor at their feet.

With a vicious oath he dragged her roughly into his arms, twisting her
hands behind her in a painful grasp.

"Now you will listen and heed my words," he snarled through clenched
teeth.

"Jamie MacDonald is a man of his word.  I come here in peace."

"Jamie MacDonald?  The Heartless MacDonald?"

He saw the fear leap into her eyes at the mention of his name.  So she
had heard of him.  All the better.  At least now she would offer no
more resistance.

"Aye.  Heartless am I in battle."  He lowered his head until his lips
were inches from hers.  His eyes narrowed fractionally.

"Do not cross swords with me again, lass, or you will feel the sting of
my anger."

As he lifted his head he heard the sound of swords being unsheathed.

Before he could turn he felt the sharp point of a blade against his
back, slicing through his flesh.  Pain tipped through him.

A voice low with fury said, "Release the woman."  Had this been war,
Jamie would have pulled a dirk from his boot and held the blade to the
female's throat until he either made good his escape or disarmed his
enemy.  It would be far easier to cross swords with a hundred
unreasonable Highlanders than to try to reason with them.  But reason
he must, if he was to keep his promise to Brice Campbell.  Jamie lifted
his hands to show that he did not intend to draw his sword.  As he
turned, the lass fled his arms and hurried to stand with the five men
who faced him.

They stood in a semicircle, swords lifted menacingly.  All bore a
striking resemblance to the old man who stood in their midst.

"I demand the tight to fight this lout by myself," the tallest one
said.

"Nay, Donald."  A stocky, bearded lad put out his hand to delay his
brother's progress.

"As eldest son I claim the tight."

"You may both fight me if you wish, after I tell you my reason for
coming here."  Jamie reached a hand to his waist and instantly another
sword tip pierced his hand, unleashing a river of blood.  Ignoring the
pain, he unstrapped his scab hard and let it drop to the floor, as
further proof that he did not wish to do battle.

"I do not trust him," the youngest said.

"Nor do I."  The old man strode closer, peering at the stranger.

"Who are you?  State your name and the nature of your business before
we relieve you of your life."

Jamie stood silently, eyeing the old man.  This had been a mistake.

These warriors were itching for a fight.  They would never give him the
time to relate all that he had planned to tell them.

"He is Jamie MacDonald," the lass said softly.

"The Heartless MacDonald?"  The old man paused and turned toward his
daughter, seeing for the first time that her gown was torn and
bloody.

His eyes narrowed.

"God in heaven.  He has harmed you, lass.  I will cut out his heart."

With a cry of fury he whirled and aimed his sword at Jamie's heart.

"May you burn in hell for inflicting pain upon my daughter."

Daughter?  Jamie glanced from the old man to the fiery lass.  His eyes
widened.  Aye.  How could he have missed it?  The resemblance was there
in the wide brow, in the finely chiseled lips.  But who would' have
thought a bloody Highlander could produce such a work of perfection?

There would be no reasoning with the Gordons now.  Jamie stood very
still, prepared to meet his fate at the hands of this righteous old
Highland warrior.  He had made errors in judgment before, bt/t never
one that had so surely sealed his fate.

As the blade sang through the air, the lass's voice, low and
commanding, broke the silence.

"Hold, Father."  She saw the blood spurt from the stranger's shoulder
as her father's blade missed its intended mark by mere inches.

"The MacDonald gave his word that his was a mission of peace."  In
quick strides she was be side her father, gripping his arm to stay
another thrust.  She turned to face the man whose touch had only
moments ago filled her with terror.

"I

pray you let him speak.  "

Through his pain Jamie breathed a sigh of relief.

A dangerous smile touched Lindsey's lips as she added, "And if we do
not like what we hear, the Heartless Mac Donald will have at least
bought enough time to prepare his wicked soul to meet his Maker."

Chapter Two

Through a haze of pain Jamie watched as the warriors lowered their
swords.  For a moment the room seemed to spin, and he had to struggle
to maintain his rigid stance.  Despite the bone weariness that
enveloped him and the loss of blood from his newly inflicted wounds, it
would not do to show any sign of weakness.

"I am told that the Gordons are the most respected swordsmen in all of
Scotland."

"You have heard correctly," Murray said.

"Have you come to challenge us?"  His lips curled into a sneer.

"Or do you only do your fighting with helpless women?"

"Helpless?"  Lindsey turned blazitig eyes on her brother.  I'll have
you know it was my clever acting that bought you enough time to draw
your swords.  Else this villain would have caught you all unawares. 
"

Acting.  So the lass had been pretending to be weak and afraid while
she was 6almly searching for a way to save her family.  Jamie felt a
grudging respect for the woman who had so ably tricked him.

"Now he is a villain," Neal called.

"A moment ago you begged Father to spare his miserable life so we could
hear what he had to say."

"Perhaps I was mistaken."  Lindsey tore her glance from the sight of
the wounded giant who oddly tugged at her heart.  His blood-soaked
clothes and ravaged face touched a chord deep inside her.

"Perhaps I should have let him die."

"Silence, all of you," the old man shouted.  Turning to Jamie he
commanded, "Say what you came here to say.  And then I will decide
whether or not you deserve to live."

"I have need of a few brave men."  Jamie spoke slowly, allowing his
gaze to assess the circle of men.  The youngest one revealed a trace of
feat in his eyes.  The one beside him, a handsome rebel, gave a cynical
smile.  The golden haired lad seemed puzzled.  The bearded son could
hardly contain his fury.  Jamie allowed his gaze to linger on the
lass.

What fire there was in her.  But her curiosity overcame anything else
she might be feeling.  Despite her earlier mis givings, she pursed her
lips and waited for him to continue.  Jamie tore his gaze from her and
turned toward her father.  Only the old man watched without any show of
emotion.

"And why would a famed warrior like Jamie MacDonald have need of our
swords?"

"I have need of not only your swords" -Jamie gritted his teeth against
the pain and forced himself to speak slowly, evenly "--but of your
ability to lead others, as well."

"And where would we be leading others?"  Murray shot him a challenging
look.

"To rally behind their queen."

The old man took a menacing step closer.

"What news do you bring us regarding our beloved queen?"

"I have reason to believe Mary's life is in danger."

His words brought a sudden chilling silence.  It was Douglas Gordon who
finally spoke.

"You will tell us all you know."

"Aye.  The queen's secretary, Riccio, has been murdered at Holyrood."

The room erupted with muffled exclamations.

"Brice Campbell lies gravely wounded after subduing the swordsman.  He
believes the true intent of the attack was to murder the queen."

"God in heaven."  Upon hearing this, Douglas Gordon's look turned
grim.

"The rumors are true, then."  He glanced at his sons and daughter.

Jamie pressed his fingers to the searing heat at his shoulder and was
surprised when his hand came away covered with blood.  He stared at it
a moment without comprehending.  The front of his tunic was smeared
with blood, as were his breeches, yet he could feel nothing but the
heat and a strange numbness.

His dazed expression was not lost on the old man, who had seen such
shock on many a warrior in battle.  His tone softened.

"How long have you been without sleep, lad?"

Jamie felt the room sway a moment, then forced himself to stiffen his
spine.

"I have been in the saddle two nights and three days."  Or was it three
nights and two days?  He could no longer recall.

"You will rest a while, and then we will speak more of this."

"There is no time for rest.  I must put together an army and lead them
to their queen."

"Aye.  The need is most urgent.  But now," the old man said with a
trace of a smile in his tone, "you are bleeding all over my floor, lad.
And my daughter, Lindsey, will have my head if I allow this abomination
to continue."  He sheathed his sword and motioned for his sons to do
the same.  To his daughter he said, "Show our guest to a sleeping
chamber, Lindsey."

"But..."

"Immediately," the old man bellowed.

"And summon a servant to see to his needs."

"Aye, Father."

Lindsey watched as Jamie bent and retrieved his weapons.  She saw him
lean against the wall for a moment, then straighten.

She would not feel any remorse for this villain's suffering Had he not,
after all, used her shamelessly to gain entry to their fortress?

He must have been aware of the risks of invading the home of the
Gordons.

Lifting her skirts, she led the way up a wide staircase.  Behind her
Jamie staggered, swayed, then forced himself to follow at a slower
pace.

He had planned to do something bold and outrageous to gain the
attention of the Gordons.  But it had not been his intention to attack
the beloved daughter of the leader.  The wild lass's name was
Lindsey.

It gave him an odd sense of pleasure to have that information, despite
the buzzing in his brain that disrupted his concentration.

Outside the doorway to a suite of rooms the lass paused and turned to
study the giant who walked behind her.  Though his eyes showed the
effects of the wound, she had no doubt that he could still outfight
every man below stairs.  There was such strength in him.  And a sense
of nobility that oddly stirred her.

She stepped inside.  Jamie followed.

Several servants scurried around the rooms, preparing the bed, stoking
the fire.

"You will rest in here," she said, leading the way toward the sleeping
chamber.

"You are most kind."  She heard the thread of sarcasm in his tone and
fought to ignore it.

"If you will lie down, I will see to your wound."

At a word from Lindsey, a serving girl turned back the bed linens.  As
he made his way to the bed Jamie prayed he would not disgrace himself
by falling.  He eased himself toward the pallet and felt his knees
buckle.  He fell forward and managed to roll over until he was lying on
his back.

Jamie noted that a pitcher of water stood on the table beside his bed.
His throat was parched, and he recalled idly that he had not eaten in
days.

Seeing the direction of his gaze she asked, "Do you thirst?"

"Aye."

Through half-closed lids he watched as Lindsey filled a goblet.

Sitting on the edge of the pallet she lifted his head to her lap and
offered him the liquid.  He drank greedily.

When the goblet was empty, Lindsey lowered his head and placed the
goblet on the table Working with efficiency she removed his bloody
tunic and shirt.

The wound to his shoulder was deep and already beginning to fester.

"You have lost a fair amount of blood."

Jamie struggled to stay awake.  The cozy bed linens, the warmth of the
fire and the softness of this woman's touch were almost more than he
could fight.  Were this a dozen Highlanders surrounding him in the
frozen forest, he could have called upon that well of strength within
himself.  But this .  this was the nearest thing to heaven he had
encountered in his many years upon this earth.  He was drowning in
comfort.

And he had not the strength to fight it.

He needed to cross swords with this female.  That would keep him
alert.

"Your father's mark is not true.  A better swordsman would have left me
dead with his first thrust."

That hit a nerve.  Lindsey's temper flared.

"Father is still a fine swordsman.

"Tis true, his eyesight is failing some what.  But had I not stopped
him, his second thrust would have found your heart.  And," she added in
haughty tones, "you did not even lift a sword in your own defense."

"I came not to fight but to persuade."

At that she said nothing.  Dipping a piece of cloth into a basin, she
wrung it out and began mopping up the blood that stained his chest and
arm.  Her touch was deliberately rough, and it brought a smile of
satisfaction to her lips when she saw her patient flinch.

"Are you trying to finish the work your father started?"

"Mayhap."  She continued to sponge the blood, unaware that her touch
had gentled.  How muscled his arms.  How flat the planes of his
stomach.  How narrow his waist.  His waist.  She saw the glint of a
dirk tucked into his waistband and reminded herself that this was the
man who had attacked her and whose chilling words had made her blood
run cold.

"This will sting," she said, pouring a liberal amount of spirits over
the open wound.

"Such a waste of fine whiskey."

His sudden hiss of pain brought a smile of satisfaction to her lips.

"Did I not warn you of the pain, my lord?"

"Aye."

She felt his quick intake of breath as she poured even more liquid on
the wound.

"Enjoying yourself, my lady?"

"Aye.  It has always given me satisfaction to minister to the
injured."

"Have many of them lived?"

"A few."  With quick practiced movements she began to wind clean linen
strips around his shoulder and chest.  As she bent to him her hair
swirled forward, tickling the flesh of his naked chest.

Jamie inhaled the soft woman fragrance of her and found himself swamped
with feelings that had nothing to do with battle.  How easy it would be
to pull her close and bury his lips in her throat.  Even in his
weakened condition, she would be no match for his strength.  He
struggled to dismiss such dangerous thoughts.  He had come here to seek
her clan's support.  The last thing he needed was to incur their wrath
by soiling their woman.  Besides, she was not nearly the kind of woman
who appealed to him.  There was nothing soft or sweet about her.  So
far she had shown him only an acid tongue and an ungentle touch.

When Lindsey had completed dressing his wounds, she lay him back
against the bed linens.  A servant hovered nearby, awaiting her
mistress's orders.

"Fetch our guest some broth," Lindsey called.

"Aye, my lady."  The servant hurried from the room.  Jamie lay quietly,
his eyes closed, listening to the occasional hiss and snap of the fire.
It seemed to him, in his pain-clouded mind, that the fire had spread to
his body and had centered on his shoulder and chest.  What had this
damnable female done to him?  She had taken hot coals and heaped them
upon his body.  And in his weakened condition he had been unable to
stop her.

He moaned softly.  Alarmed, Lindsey perched on the edge of the bed and
touched a hand to his forehead.  He burned with fever.  Wringing out a
cloth, she began to sponge his forehead.  Within a few moments he
became still.

Setting the damp cloth aside, she walked to the foot of the bed and
struggled until his boots had been removed.  Standing over him, she
studied his soaked breeches.  They would have to come off, as well.

Bending over him she reached a hand to the hilt of the knife tucked
into his waist band.  Strong, work-worn fingers instantly closed over
her own.  She was stunned to find herself lifted off her feet and
hauled roughly against a wall of muscled chest.  For a moment her
breath was knocked from her lungs, leaving her speechless.

"So.  You would rehder me helpless, lass?"

"I..."

She struggled to regain her breath.

"I merely in tended to undress you."

"Ah."  The pain in his eyes was replaced with a hint of laughter.

"Then by all means, I am your willing servant."

"You--tricked me.  You led me to believe you were too weak to move."

"And you were going to take advantage of my weakness, lass?"

"I thought to make you more comfortable."

"And you have."  He drew her closer, enjoying the flush that suddenly
reddened her cheeks.

"I am exceedingly more comfortable than I was just moments ago."

"You are despicable."  She pushed against him, but he merely tightened
his grip on her.  She was amazed by the strength in his hands.

He looked at the woman in his arms.  Wisps of hair tumbled wildly
across one eye and cheek.  Her bodice gaped open, revealing the soft
swell of her breasts.  Her skirts were twisted around her knees,
revealing a fascinating view of shapely legs.

It would seem that beneath the disheveled appearance was a very soft,
very womanly creature.

In his fevered state all Jamie's pain was forgotten, as was his
reticence toward this female.  In that moment he could think of but one
thing.  He had to taste her lips.

Lindsey felt his gaze burn over her and settle on her mouth.  Color
flooded her cheeks.  She touched a tongue to her dry lips and realized
her mistake when she saw the way his gaze followed the movement.  A
tiny shiver of alarm raced along her spine.  Fear?  Aye.  It must be
fear.  What else could she possibly feel for a man who had frightened
her, attacked her, used her to get to her father and brothers?

Jamie's fingers tightened on her arms, drawing her inexorably closer.

His look devoured her.  And though he cursed himself for every kind of
a fool, he could not deny his need.

"Nay."  Lindsey reached out a hand to stop him.  As she did, he caught
her palm and lifted it to his mouth.

With his lips pressed to the soft flesh of her palm, liquid heat pulsed
through her veins, setting her limbs on fire.  The protest died on her
lips.  Never, never had she known such wild, tumultuous feelings.

She lifted wide eyes to his and could read his intentions.  God in
heaven.  He was going to kiss her lips, as well.  She forgot to
breathe.

Her heart forgot to beat.

His mouth closed over hers.  It was the merest brush of lips to lips.

His touch was firm, his kiss easy and practiced.

Her lips trembled.  Never before had she been kissed like this.  There
had been lads in the village who had tried to kiss her.  A few had even
succeeded.  Always she had turned away from them, more annoyed than
pleased.  But this.  This was no clumsy youth, struggling with the
first stirrings of manhood.

Lindsey experienced a rush of feelings like nothing she had ever known.
Her heart was beating so wildly she thought it would surely explode.
Her palms became moist.  She kept her hands firmly between her body and
his, hoping to hold him at arm's length.  But slowly, with a will of
their own, her fingers splayed across his naked chest, tingling as they
came in contact with his hair-roughened skin.

Jamie drew her closer, allowing his lips to move seductively over hers.
The jolt was sudden, shocking.  This had been a mistake.  He knew it as
soon as his lips touched hers, as soon as the first wild spark raged
through him But there was no way to stop it now.  His body was suddenly
alive, surging with need.  But his fevered mind was befuddled.

He seemed robbed of his usual disciplifie.  He knew he had to stop
this. From the way she kissed him, he knew her to be an innocent
maiden.  She would be shocked and disgusted by his hunger.  By angering
her and her family, he would destroy everything he had worked for.  But
God in heaven, she was so sweet.  And'though he knew he must end it, he
could not.  Not yet.  One moment more.  One more brush of his lips to
hers.

Lindsey's hands curled around his arms, holding on as if her very life
depended on it.  Ofttimes, lost in sleep, she had dreamed of a knight
who would carry her off to some distant shore and make her his own.

But always, when she awoke, she felt ashamed of such foolish dreams and
renewed her determination that no man would ever claim her.  Some inner
demon had plagued her from childhood, building a wall of fear around
her heart.

She knew, if she let go, the spell would be broken and she would awake
in her own bed, awash in trembling feelings of guilt and fear.

She kept her eyes firmly closed as his lips moved over hers.  And
though it was merely a kiss, she sensed the passion, the fire, which he
kept so carefully banked.

With his last desperate burst of self-control, Jamie man aged to
surface and pull himself away.  Holding her at a distance, he watched
the play of conflicting emotions on her face and recognized
astonishment, then fear, and then growing disbelief that bordered on
anger.

He lifted a hand and brushed an errant strand of hair from her cheek.

Eyes the shade of a Highland pool stared deeply into his.

Color suffused Lindsey's cheeks.  This was not a dream.  The man beside
her in the bed was real.  And very much alive.  She was achingly aware
of his arousal.  Surely the wild beating of his heart matched her
own.

She struggled to regain her senses.

"I can see that you are quite strong enough to undress yourself."  She
pushed herself from his arms and struggled.  to climb from the bed. 
She prayed her legs were strong enough to hold her.

He lay quietly, enjoying the sight of her wriggling efforts to smooth
down her skirts.  What a magnificent body she hid beneath those
petticoats.  His mouth curved into a roguish smile.

"It will not be nearly as pleasurable as having you un dress me, my
lady."

"It is as I first thought."  She turned to face him.  Her hands were
shaking so badly, she brought them to her hips to steady them.  She
hoped she gave the impression of righteous indignation.

"You are a villain masquerading as a Highland gentleman."

"Does this mean you will not help me undress?"

"Oh!"  As she flounced to the doorway, she nearly collided with the
servant who was just entering.

"Leave the broth on the bedside table, Moira," she ordered.

"My Lord MacDonald is strong enough to feed himself."

Jamie watched until she disappeared from view.  Then he lay very
quietly, feeling the need for her still throbbing within him.  His
hands, he noted, were not quite steady, and his heart was beating far
too rapidly.  With a moan of discomfort he rolled to his side and
willed himself to bank his desire and seek the rest he so desperately
needed.

Chapter Three

Dawn light had yet to touch the sky when Lindsey slipped from her bed
and made her way to the adjoining room.  Carrying a candle aloft, she
opened the door to the sleeping chamber and beckoned the servant seated
by the bedside to come to her.  In the adjacent sitting chamber they
spoke in hushed tones.

"He has not stirred?"

"Nay, my lady.  All day and night he has slept."

"The fever?"

"It has run its course.  He sleeps as peacefully as a hairn."

"His wounds?"

"The bleeding has stopped.  The wounds appear clean."  The serving
girl's tone revealed her admiration for the stranger who was the object
of much speculation among the household staff.

"He is most strong, my lady.  Never have I seen a man recover so
quickly."

"Next, Moira, you will tell me the saints are on his side," Lindsey
said with a trace of impatience.  Then, seeing the weariness in the
girl's eyes, she said softly, "You have done well.  Go to sleep now.  I
will keep watch until the dawn."

"Aye, my lady."

As the servant left, Lindsey picked up the candle and entered the
sleeping chamber.  For long moments she held the candle aloft, peering
at the man in the bed.  Then, placing the light on the table she drew a
blanket around her shoulders and settled herself into a chair beside
the bed.

She glanced around the room with a little frown.  Her father had
demanded that this man be treated like a respected guest.  The basin of
water and bloody linens had been removed.  The stranger's blood-soaked
breeches had been stripped off and tossed into the fire.

They were beyond saving.  His tunic and fine shirt had been washed and
mended.  They lay neatly atop a nearby chest.  His boots had been
polished to a high shine and placed beside the bed.

Jamie was sprawled on his back, his arms outstretched.  Pristine bed
linens covered him modestly to the waist.  His chest rose and fell in
peaceful slumber.  Despite the fact that there should be nothing out of
the ordinary about the man who lay sleeping, there remained about him a
hint of danger, even mystery.  In the candlelight his thick shaggy hair
and beard glinted with russet strands, as did the mat of hair on his
chest.

Lindsey clenched her hands at her sides to resist the sudden urge to
touch him.  She drew the blanket tighter around her shoulders, vexed at
the way her thoughts were wandering She had grown Up in a wbfld of men.
With an earthy father and four callous brothers, men held no mysteries
for her.  She had nursed them through dozens of wounds and illnesses,
and had seen them in various stages of undress.  Yet the sight of this
man did strange things to her.

Each time she had entered this room to check on the sleeping visitor,
her throat had gone dry.  Worst of all, whenever she allowed herself to
think about his kiss, her heartbeat became wild and erratic, and her
palms became damp.  As they did now.  She wiped her hands on the
blanket and tried to look away.  But the man in the bed was like a
magnet, drawing her gaze even when she tried desperately to ignore
him.

Annoyed at her weakness, Lindsey slid the blanket from her shoulders
and crossed the room to poke the fire.  A log smoldered, then exploded
into flame, filling the room with a sudden burst of light.  She added
another log, then're turned to the bedside.  For a moment she paused,
studying the man as he slept.

Some might call him handsome, though she thought his bearded jaw too
strong, his 'brow too wide.  Some would probably be amused by his
roguish smile and teasing banter She considered him arrogant.  Some
women might even be impressed with his wide shoulders and strong,
callused hands.  She knew him to be a brute.

She leaned closer, studying the firm lips beneath the growth of red
beard.  So this was the man who was legend among her people.  The
Heartless MacDonald.

"I take it you see something that interests you."  Lindsey nearly
jumpec out of her skin at the sleep- roughened voice.  Quickly she
composed herself.

"You are in error, my lord.  I see nothing here of any interest."

As she began to back away his hand snaked out, catching her firmly by
the wrist.

"My mistake, my lady."  His lids snapped open, revealing eyes of
midnight blue.  In their depths she could see a hint of the danger that
lurked there.

She felt the heat rush to her cheeks and snatched her hand away as if
burned.

"I merely wanted to ascertain that you were still breathing."

"Beware, my lady.  It is dangerous to get this close with out my
bidding, unless, of course, you do not fear my blade."

"Your blade is no longer with you.  It was removed, along with your
clothing."  Despite that fact, Lindsey took another step back,
determined to keep some distance between them.  Though her breath felt
lodged in her throat, she would never give him the satisfaction of
knowing that he caused her the slightest discomfort.

"Since you are feeling so bold, my lord, it would be best to leave you
to your own care."  "Nay."  He caught her hand and was stunned at the
feelings that surged through him at the mere touch of her.

"Forgive my rude behavior.  I am not usually such a dolt.  Lay the
blame upon the strange circumstances that brought us together, my
lady."

Lindsey felt the pressure of his hand on hers and stared into eyes that
held the merest hint of laughter.  She was not certain she liked this
relaxed side of him.  If anything, it made him appear even more
dangerous.  Like a sleek mountain cat drowsing in the sun.

"Stay awhile, my lady.  There is much I need to learn."  He released
her hand and she hesitated a moment before returning to the chair
beside the bed.  She had promised her father to see to their guest's
comfort, after all.  It would do no harm to answer his questions.  She
would never admit to herself that this man intrigued her.

"What day is this?"

"You have slept a day and a night, my lord."  Lindsey glanced at- the
balcony window.

"It will soon be the dawn of the second day since you arrived."

A look of annoyance crossed his face.

"God in heaven.  A day and a night."

As he started to sit up, Lindsey pressed a hand to his shoulder.  He
lay back heavily, feeling the room spin in dizzying circles.

"There is much to be done.  I have no time for such weakness."

'"Tis not weaknes to give in to the exhaustion of the mind and body, my
lord."

"It is when the queen's life is at stake."

"Rest a while longer, my lord.  Just until the household stirs."

"Aye."  He closed his eyes, enjoying the touch of her hand against his
flesh.

"My steed.  Has he... ?"

"A groom saw to him.  At great peril, I might add."  Jamie opened his
eyes and arched a brow.

"A vicious hound kept circling and bating his fangs.  But when the
servants attempted to soothe him with food, the beast ran off.  It
would seem your hound is as dangerous as his master."

Jamie's lips curved into a smile.

"He is not mine.  Wolf sets his own course.  And he has little use for
humans."

' Wolf?  " Her hand paused in the act of smoothing his blankets.

"He resembles the wolves that roam the forests.  I took him,
half-starved, from a brute who had beaten him sense less.  And though I
set the animal free, he seems torn between his world and mine."

"Might he harm the servants?"

"Only if they attempt to get too close to him."

"Then they and Wolf are safe.  I assure you, they have no desire to
challenge the creature."

"I am most grateful, my lady."  He lay very still.

"If I should sleep," he said, fighting to clear his mind, "wake me when
the others wake."

"Aye, my lord," Lindsey said as she settled into the chair and drew the
blanket around her.  For long minutes she studied him as he slept.

Then, lulled by the rain against .  the panes and the warmth of the
fire, she closed her eyes and dozed.

A log blazed on the hearth and the morning sun slanted through the
balcony windows, bathing the bed in a pool of warmth.  Jamie' se yes
opened, and for one brief moment he struggled to recall where he was.

Then, as reason returned, he glanced at the chair, only to find it
empty.  Momentary regret washed over him.  The lass's nighttime visit
had been only a dream.  A most pleasant dream.

A servant approached.

"My lady Lindsey instructed me to awaken you as promised, my lord, and
to invite you to join her family in the refectory when you are
dressed."

A smile touched his lips.  It had not been a dream.

"Thank you.

Instruct my lord Gordon and his family that I will join them shortly.
"

"Aye, my lord."  The servant poured fresh water into a basin, then
crossed the room and left without another word.

Jamie watched as the door closed behind her.  With a hiss of pain he
sat up and felt the room spin for several moments.  Slowly, as his
vision cleared, he forced himself to stand.  Setting his teeth against
the pain, he walked to the basin of water and began to wash.  He
touched a hand to the wound at his shoulder.  Though there was pain,
the fire was gone.

It was the same as with his other wounds.  He had suffered enough
battle wounds to know that although he experienced much pain, the worst
was over.  Best of all, his mind was once more clear.  The
brain-numbing weariness had vanished.  By the time he finished
dressing, he had man aged to push the pain to a distant corner of his
mind.  There were pressing matters to address.  His discomfort was of
little consequence.

He descended the stairs and followed the rumble of voices along the
hallway.  Pausing outside the open door, he listened for a moment to
the chorus of voices raised in dissent.

"There is no way we can keep our departure a secret, Father."

Jamie studied the bearded lad he knew to be the eldest son.  Murray's
tone wa low and intense.

"There are many in the Highlands who might take ad vantage of our
departure to pillage our land and steal our wealth."

"Aye," echoed several other voices.

"Is our wealth at issue here?  Must not our first concern be the safety
of our beloved queen?"

"Aye.  But is it necessary to sacrifice one for the other?"  the
tallest son asked.

"Perhaps we should ask our guest," Douglas Gordon said, glancing up.

The others followed suit.  Lindsey studied the man whose presence
filled the room.  If he suffered any effects from the last few days, he
kept it well hidden.  His shirt was woven of finest linen, and his
elegant wool tunic stretched tautly across shoulders wider than any she
had ever seen.  His borrowed breeches revealed muscled thighs and a
trim, flat stomach.  Clean shaven, he was even more striking than she
had expected, with a firm jaw and full, sensuous lips.

"Join us, Jamie MacDonald," Douglas Gordon said.

"Though you have been with us for a day and a night, you have yet to be
properly introduced to my family.  I am Douglas Gordon."

Jamie bowed slightly before the old man, then offered his hand.

"Murray is my eldest son," the old man said, indicating the bearded lad
to his left.

Jamie extended his hand and felt the strength in Murray's grip.  The
two men assessed each other in silence.

"This is my second son, Donald."

Jamie offered his hand to the raven-haired lad who had.  passed him in
the rain.  Close up Jamie could see why the lasses were attracted to
this darkly handsome youth.

"Robbie is our poet and dreamer," Douglas said, indicating the
golden-haired lad who smiled shyly at Jamie be, fore extending his
hand.

"And our youngest is Neal."

The lad was slender as a sapling, with arms and legs that seemed too
long for his body.  But there was strength in his grip and the
beginnings of muscles in his arms.  And his smile was genuine when he
offered his hand to Jamie.

"You have already met my daughter, Lindsey."

"Aye."  Jamie bowed over her hand and saw the heat that stained her
cheeks when he lifted her hand to his lips.  This day she was gowned in
pale ivory wool that hugged her high firm breasts and revealed a tiny
waist.  He thought of the way he had hauled her roughly into his arms,
pressing her lithe young body against his, and once again he felt the
rush of heat.  Her waist-long hair had been brushed and tied back with
ribbons, but already several strands had man aged to spring free,
falling in an oddly appealing way across her eye.

"Sit," Douglas said, indicating the place beside his daughter.

As he took his seat Jamie felt his thigh brush Lindsey's and he chanced
to look in her direction.  She studiously avoided meeting his gaze.

"I see my mission has caused a conflict, my lord," Jamie said as he
filled his plate.

"Everything creates a conflict in this clan," Douglas Gordon said
dryly.  "" Tis the nature of the Gordons.  At the moment we are
discussing the danger of leaving our lands and people unprotected.  "

"Aye.

"Tis a risk.  Mayhap I should take my leave quickly, so that you might
discuss your family business in private."

Unknowingly Lindsey's voice tdok on a note of soft per- suasiorr.

'"Twould be folly."  Seeing the way her brothers' heads came up, she
added quickly, "To leave without accomplishing your mission, my lord.

You do not yet know if the Gordons will take up your banner.  "

"How can you mt?"  His gaze left her to study those around the table.

"If you love your queen, you have no choice."  His tone was
matter-of-fact.

"Mayhap."  Neal, the youngest, met his even look.

"But we would go at great sacrifice, my lord."

Jamie knew the truth of his words.  This clan prospered because of the
strength of its lairds.  Without these leaders to defend against
invasion, all could be lost to invading clans within a fortnight.
Still, the queen's safety must be their first consideration.

"There must be a nobler aim than defending your people, or protecting
your wealth."  Jamie drained his goblet and felt his strength slowly
return.  The fire was back in his blood.  And in his voice.

"I have come to beg you, in the name of our queen, to take up arms
against those who would shamelessly attack one who, though queen of
this great land, is helpless against 'her enemies."

Robbie's fair hair glinted in the morning sunlight.

"Does the queen not have an army to command?"

"Nay," Jamie said, his eyes flashing.

"The lady is at the mercy of those who plot and scheme against her.  We
must be her army."

"But she is queen," Neai interrupted.

"How would any one dare to harm her?"

"Aye, she is a queen.  She is also a woman.  A woman," Jamie added
softly, "who is heavy with child."

At that everyone fell silent.  It was the handsome Donald who broke the
uncomfortable silence.

"How do we know that this attack was truly meant for the queen?  Did
you not say she lives?"

"Aye.  But her secretary, Riccio, is dead.  And Brice Campbell lies
near death because he went to Mary's aid.  And even now, while Brice
fights for his own life, he is concerned only for Mary.  He is
convinced that she was the intended victim."

"There are many," Murray remarked to those around the table "who would
see your laird, the Highland Barbarian dead.  He has crossed swords
with many men of influence."

Beneath the table Jamie's hands clenched into fists as he struggled to
keep the anger from his voice.

"Is there one among us who has not made enemies?"  He studied the faces
of the Gordon men, who stared back at him without emotion.

"But I tell you that Brice Campbell is not a fool.  His instincts about
men are shrewd.  If he believes that the queen's life is in danger, I
believe it also.  And I am willing to lay down my life for my queen."

Douglas Gordon studied the solemn faces around theta ble.

"Murray.

What say you?  "

The eldest son spoke to his father, ignoring the man seated beside his
sister.

"I do not relish leaving our lands and people unprotected.  And I am
not convinced that Queen Mary is in danger.  Still..."  He glanced at
his brothers

"If the others vote to go to Edinburgh, I ride with them."

"Donald," the old man prodded.

"What say you?"  The handsome lad studied the giant who sat beside his
sister.  He resented this messenger of bad tidings.  But his love for
adventure far outweighed his misgivings.  Besides, he had heard that
some of the women at court in Edinburgh were some of the most beautiful
in the world.

"If we could summon our clan to stand watch until we return, I say we
ride to Edinburgh."

"Robbie?"  Douglas Gordon turned his gaze on the quiet, studious son
who much preferred his books to a life of action.

Robbie thought about his well-ordered life and felt a welling of
resentment at this intruder.  But Jamie's reminder that the.  queen was
a woman in distress had found its mark.  The poet's tender heart could
not be denied.

"Aye.  I would ride to the queen's defense."

"Neal?"  The old man smiled gently at his youngest son.

"Aye, Father."

Th lad was twitching with eagerness at this unexpected chance for
adventure.  He had never before had the opportunity to see what lay
beyond his beloved Highlands.

"How can we refuse?"

Jamie sat back, relieved that there had been no objection raised.  He
was surprised when Douglas Gordon turned to his daughter.

"And you, Lindsey?  What say you?"

Lindsey saw the way the man beside her stiffened.  It gave her a rush
of pleasure to know that Jamie MacDonald had once again been caught
unawares.  He had not expected a Highland laird to respect a lowly
woman's views.

"My first impulse was to agree with Murray," she said, enjoying the way
Jamie's eyes narrowed at her words.

"We cannot, after all, journey all the way to Edinburgh without being
observed.  There are those who will take advantage of our absence to
steal and plunder.  But, like the others, I am not willing to risk my
qiaeen's safety for the sake of wealth and comfort."  She paused to
moisten her dry lips, then said with a rush of words, "And, as Donald
said, we can summon our clan to defend our home.  But there is a
question no one else has voiced."

She turned to meet Jamie's look, and he could read the challenge in her
gaze.

"How do we know that this man's word is true?  How do we even know that
he is the man he claims to be?"

The others turned to their father, who sat silently regarding his
daughter and the giant beside her.

In a solemn tone Douglas said, "I know of no other who could masquerade
as a man as ... unique as Jamie MacDonald."  A hint of a smile touched
the older man's lips.

"But, to put your fears to rest, I will tell you thatI have seen this
man before, standing with Brice Campbell in the court of Mary.  Their
friendship and loyalty to our queen are well documented."  He turned to
his daughter.

"Does that ease your mind, Lindsey?"

She tore her gaze from the man beside her and nodded.

"Then the matter, for me, is settled.  I vote to ride to Edinburgh no
matter what the cost."

Douglas glanced around the table

"You have all spoken.  We are in agreement then?  We are all willing to
see to the queen's safety?"

Murray, as eldest son, spoke for all.

"Aye, Father."

"It is done, then."  Douglas Gordon turned to Jamie with a smile.

"The Gordons will ride with you to Edinburgh, my lord.  Our hearts and
swords are pledged to our queen."

"Thank you."  Jamie extended his hand to the old man, then to each of
the sons.

"Thank you, one and all."

When he turned to Lindsey, he lifted her hand to his lips.

"And my thanks to you, my lady, for your eloquent words."

"They were not mere words, my lord.  Like my brothers', mine was a
solemn promise.  I have pledged my heart and sword to my queen.  And
now, if you will excuse me, there is much to prepare before we ride."

"We?"  Jamie glanced from Lindsey to her father, then back to
Lindsey.

"Surely you do not intend to ride with us all the way to Edinburgh?"

"Did you not hear my father's words?"

Jamie saw the smiles on their lips as the others pushed away from the
table and exited the refectory.

Alone, Lindsey stood facing Jamie, her eyes flashing fire.

"The Gordons will ride with you to Edinburgh, my lord."  Her tone of
voice, her eyes, dared him to challenge her father's pronouncement.

"All the Gordons."

"Including you?"

"Aye, my lord.  Including me."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"We shall see about that, my lady."

" Her look was equally defiant.

"Aye.  You shall see, my lord."  With a swish of skirts, she was
gone.

As the servants began clearing the table Jamie walked to the window and
stood, deep in thought.  He had his wish.  The Gordons were pledged to
the queen's safety.  But he had not anticipated this turn of events.

One among them might prove more a curse than a blessing.

Chapter Four

Jamie leaned a hip against the balcony and watched the bustle of
activity in the courtyard below.  Servants were busy loading supplies
into a wagon.  Grooms scurried around saddling horses.  Men in the
rough garb of the High lands stood embracing their wives and
children.

Entire families had gathered to bid their men goodbye.

Once he had gained the ear of the Gordons, Jamie was amazed at how easy
it had been to convince them of the need to follow him.  This task
Brice had given him was surprisingly simple.  With the Gordon swords to
back him up, they would ride to Edinburgh and dispose of the queen's
enemies.  Within a fortnight they would all be.  safely back in their
strongholds, their lives returned to normal He could then summon a
council of all the Highland lairds, to form a united front behind their
queen.

He touched a hand to his stiff shoulder.  It had been worth a few cuts
and scratches to see this matter successfully concluded.

Below, a ladies' maid shrieked when a trunk fell from the wagon,
spilling its contents.  Jamie craned his neck to watch.  Within minutes
it was repacked and lashed firmly to the back of the wagon.  But not
before Jamie had glimpsed a rainbow of frothy petticoats and gowns.  He
felt a rush of impatience.  Lindsey had no business accompanying them.
Did Douglas Gordon have so little control over his offspring that he
would endanger his only daughter's life rather than say nay to her? 
The poor fool must be mad.  This was not some frivolous jaunt in the
countryside to visit the queen.  This was dangerous business.  Did not
his dearest friend lie near death because of the threat to the queen?

Annoyed, Jamie strapped on his scabbard and tossed his cloak over his
shoulders.  Sheathing his sword, he tucked a dirk into his waistband
and two more into his boots and went in search of his host.

Douglas Gordon stood in the center of activity .  in the courtyard, a
sea of calm amidst the chaos.  He looked up as Jamie approached.

"I would speak with you about your daughter."

At the anger that roughened Jamie's tone, Douglas swallowed his
smile.

"Aye, lad.  Say what is on your mind."

"This journey involves treachery and deceit, and could very well end in
a battle to the death."

"Aye."

Jamie stared at the placid old man and felt his temper rise a notch.

"It is no place for a tenderhearted woman."

Douglas stroked his beard and gave a vague nod of his head.

Jamie brightened.

"You agree?"

"Aye, lad."

"Then will you tell your daughter that she cannot ac company us to
Edinburgh?"

"Tell Lindsey?"  The old man gave him an incredulous look before
saying, "I'can see that you know little about women, lad, and nothing
about Lindsey.  My daughter is not about to calmly sit by the fire
warming the hearth until her men return.  Mary is her queen as much as
yours, Jamie MacDonald.  It is an honor and a privilege to bear arms in
the name of the crown.  Would you have me deny my own daughter that
which I would permit my sons?"

"But you agreed that it was no place for a female."

"Aye.  If she were any other female but Lindsey."  His voice roughened
with emotion.

"Every father wishes to cherish his children and protect them from all
harm.  God knows I tried with Lindsey.  But now I've learned 'twould be
folly to believe such a thing can be done in this world we have
inherited."

At Jamie's look of disbelief he said, "Lindsey grew up in a household
of men.  She has been taught to wield a dirk with the best of them.

Besides," he added wistfully, " I gave my word on her mother's deathbed
that I would not consigri the lass to a life alone.  At my side she
will stay"-his voice roughened with emotion " --unless a proper man
claims her for his wife.  " He studied Jamie's stormy countenance and
said firmly, " She'll not be left behind.  Lindsey will accompany her
brothers and me to Edinburgh.  "

He glanced beyond Jamie and his tone became surprisingly soft.

"Ah, lass.  Is all in readiness?"

"Aye, Father."

A bit breathlessly, Lindsey approached them.  She wore a dark green
velvet riding gown and matching cloak lined with ermine The fur-lined
hood framed her lovely face in a most becoming fashion.  At the sight
of her Jamie felt his blood run hot and blamed it on his temper.

"It was difficult to decide which gowns would be appropriate for
Holyrood, since I have little need for fashion here in our fortress.

But Moira and I chose carefully.  "

"It is wise of you to pack carefully my lady."  Jamie could barely keep
the sarcasm from his tone.  '"Twould be a sad day indeed if you were
asked to defend your life in a gown that did not meet the queen's
approval.  Worse, we would not want you lying dead in the muck in a
gown that did not befit the solemnity of the occasion."

At the venom in his tone her mouth dropped open.  A torrent of oaths
she had learned from her brothers rushed to mind.

"You priggish, son of a snake" -She glanced at her father and saw the
warning light come into his eyes.

Oh, if only they were alone, she would lay this imperious oaf open to
her sharp words.  It was only with the greatest of self-control that
she managed to hold her tongue.

Turning to her father Jamie said curtly, "By your leave I will inspect
the supplies and wait with your men until we are ready to begin the
journey."

Hearing the emphasis he placed on the word men, Lindsey watched him
walk away with a look of fury.

"I can see that the Heartless MacDonald is overjoyed at my presence on
this journey, Father."

"Aye.  So it would seem."  Douglas Gordon gave a deep sigh.  He would
have to keep these two busy and far apart during the journey.  Else
they would chew each other into little pieces before reaching
Edinburgh.

"The lad means well.  But he does not know us yet, lass.  We will give
him the benefit of some time in our company."

Time.  Fuming, Lindsey crossed to where a groom held the spirited horse
she had requested.  She had dismissed a sidesaddle in favor of a more
comfortable man's saddle.  Pulling herself up, she arranged her long
skirts over her exposed legs and took the reins from the groom.

Glancing across the courtyard she saw Jamie MacDonald glowering at her.
She tossed her head in a gesture of defiance.  She had spoilt enough
time in his unpleasant company.  She needed no more.

At a command from Douglas Gordon, the chosen men mounted and formed a
double column.  A mere dozen men would accompany their party to
Edinburgh.  The rest of the clan and all the assembled families would
remain within the wails of the fortress, prepared to defend it until
the return of their leader.

Douglas and Jamie rode between the two columns, inspecting weapons as
they rode.  Jamie showed no emotion as he passed Lindsey, who was
holding aloft a bejeweled sword.  The fierce weapon seemed incongruous
in the hand of one garbed in softest velvet and ermine.  She would have
been better disposed to bring along a dainty needle and thread.  Mayhap
she could sew their enemies' hands to their 0 sides.  He stifled a
smile at the humorous thought.

When they reached the head of the columns, Douglas and Jamie gave a nod
of satisfaction.  Each member of their party was properly armed.

All weapons were honed to a razor's edge.  Turning, they watched as the
riders nudged their horses into a trot.  As Lindsey's mount pranced by,
Jamie felt another rush of heat.  The damnable woman brought out the
worst in him.

When their company reached the edge of the forest, Jamie took up a
position in front while Douglas Gordon brought up the rear.

Jamie's heart kept tempo with the horses' hooves.  With very little
effort, he was on his way to Holyrood, where he would avenge the attack
upon his queen and Brice Camp bell.  Cresting a hill, he paused and
watched as the long column of riders passed him.  At the sight of a
pretty face framed by a hood of ermine, he frowned.  He did not look
forward to making frequent stops on their long journey while the lady
paused to repair her toilette.  He would be quick to remind her, with
every pause in their progress, that she was keeping them from their
duty to their queen.  Or, he thought with a grim smile, he could urge
the others on ahead while the lady made her frequent stops.  Mayhap
then her father would realize his folly.  Jamie hand tightened on the
reins. Nay, he would offer no further objection, he decided with sudden
fury. He would not want Douglas Gordon's beloved daughter to face the
dangerous journey with her hair or gown mussed.  For the sake of unity
he would hold his tongue and let this spoiled, foolish lass have her
way.

A silvery shadow slipped from the cover of the forest.

"Wolf," Jamie called, pleased to see his bedraggled companion.

The hound fell into position behind Jamie's mount.

Jamie pressed a hand to his lower back and cursed his aching muscles.

Those few days of rest had made him soft.  Already his body was
protesting the long hours spent in the saddle.

Bringing his horse to a halt, he drew his cloak tightly around him to
ward off the rain.  Lifting his plumed that he wiped the moisture from
his brow and squinted up into the raindrops that pelted him.  Judging
by the steady throb of his shoulder and the dark clouds that filled the
sky, the rain would not soon end.

The column of horsemen slogged past, heads lowered against the
downpour.  As one hooded figure passed him, he forced himself to sit
straighter in the saddle.  It would not do to have the female detect
any weakness in him.

It occurred to Jamie that their company had not made a single stop
since their journey began.  He experienced a sudden flash of guilt.  If
his muscles were protesting, how much worse would it be for Lindsey?

Yet the lass, to her credit, had not once asked to stop and be allowed
to rest.

Wheeling his horse, he raced past e riders and signaled to the leader
to halt.

"We will take shelter beneath those trees ahead and give our mounts a
rest."

"Aye, my lord."

With a collective look of relief the column of riders headed for the
forest arid climbed wearily from their sad- dies.  The canopy of trees
and vines offered a respite from the steady rain.  Soon a fire was
raging, and while the horses foraged under Neal's careful watch, the
riders sat on fallen logs or reclined on their cloaks around the fire,
eating their first meal since early morning.  Two Highlanders stood
guard on either edge of the clearing.

Jamie leaned his back against the gnarled trunk of a tree and watched
as Lindsey returned to the clearing.  Except for the slight limp, she
showed no sign of weariness.  Her carriage was erect, her manner
animated as she spoke with her brothers and the other men.  Folding her
cloak as a cushion, she knelt before the fire.  Her hair was bound
tightly to her head by netting, but a few damp strands had pried loose
to kiss her cheeks.

One of her brothers said something that caused her to laugh.  At that
moment she lt)oked across the clearing and caught Jamie staring at her.
For a long moment their gazes met and held.

Lindsey felt her breath catch in her throat.  Never before had a man's
eyes held such fascination.  It was as if he was reaching out across
the space that divided them and was touching her.  It was as intimate
as any embrace.  She felt the heat rush to her cheeks.  Blinking, she
looked away, hoping to break the spell this giant held over her.  But a
moment later she chanced another look.  His gaze still burned over her,
causing a rush of heat.  She blamed it on the fire and forced herself
to join in the conversation of the others.

She would not allow this tyrant to gain such a strange power over
her.

She could not.  But against her will her gaze strayed once more to
where Jamie stood.  He was no longer alone.  Her father stood beside
him, engaged in ear nest conversation.  Even as they spoke, she saw
Jamie's gaze shift to her, and the heat once more stained her cheeks.

Damn the man.  And damn this weakness that seemed to come over her
whenever he stared at her so boldly.

She turned away, determined to put him out of her mind.  She would
concentrate instead on the excitement of the journey that lay ahead.  A
visit to Holyrood, to see the queen.  It was every Scot's dream.  And
at long last she was living it.

She looked up at the sound of a muffled scream.  Before she and the
others could scramble to their feet and unsheathe their weapons, they
found themselves surrounded by a band of fierce highwaymen.

A dagger sang through the air, heading directly toward her father.

"Take arms," Jamie shouted, shoving Douglas Gordon out of harm's way.

A moment later both men were engaged in a deadly battle with several
swordsmen.

The air was filled with cries of rage and pain as sword met sword.

From the cover of the forest, dozens of screaming villains poured
forth, weapons poised for the kill.

As he fought back several attackers, Jamie berated himself for leading
his company into danger.  He should have sent riders ahead to scout the
forest before allowing anyone to make camp.  He had allowed his concern
for Lindsey's comfort to cloud his thinking.  Lindsey.

He glanced across the clearing and was stunned to see the object of his
thoughts holding off two attackers.  The bejeweled sword in her hand
slashed with deadly accuracy.

"Lindsey, behind you," he shouted, leaping over a fallen body to reach
her side.  But before he could lift a sword in her defense, she had
disposed of the threat.

Several more swordsmen rushed to the aid of their fallen companions,
and Jamie and Lindsey found themselves surrounded.

Standing side by side, they fought bravely, driving back the attackers.
Jamie was amazed by the lady's skill.  Though slight of stature, she
plunged her blade with mortal skill.  And though the cries of the
wounded filled the air, she did not flinch.

Three swordsmen attacked Jamie at one time, and he found himself
struggling to hold them at bay.  Suddenly he felt a sharp pain at his
back.  An attacker had crept up from behind and held a sword tip to his
back.

"Lower your weapon or die," a deep voice ordered.  Before Jamie could
react, the pressure against his flesh suddenly disappeared.  Jamie
glanced around in surprise to see Lindsey disarm the attacker.

For one brief moment their gazes met and held.  Though they exchanged
no words, their looks spoke volumes.

Moments later a cry went up from one of the highway men, and those who
were still standing pulled themselves onto the backs of their horses
and disappeared into the for est.  In the stillness that followed,
their fallen comrades lay bleeding into the rain-soaked earth.

"How many of our company are wounded?"  Jamie cried.

For long moments no one spoke as the fallen men were scrutinized
carefully.

At last a shout went up.

"Three."

"Any dead?"

"Nay, my lord: None of ours are dead."

Jamie breathed a sigh of relief.

"See to their wounds," he commanded.

Seeing blood on Lindsey's gown, Jamie caught her by the arm and led her
to a boulder near the fire.

"You are wounded, my lady," he said, studying her anxiously.

"Sit here."

She seemed surprised by his concern.  Glancing down at her gown, she
gave a little laugh.

"Nay.

"Tis not my blood, but the blood of one of the villains who dared to
test my prowess with the sword."

Jamie felt a swift rush of relief, which for some unexplained reason
quickly turned to anger.  Through clenched teeth he said, "You should
have hidden yourself when the highwaymen attacked.  Have you any idea
what a woman's fate would be at their hands?"

"Hide myself?"  She stood up, her hands on her hips, her eyes blazing,
"I will remind you, Jamie MacDonald, that were it not for my skill with
a sword, you would have no voice left with which to scold me."

"Aye.  I am grateful that you saved my life, my lady."

He felt his unexpected temper flare anew.

"But if we are attacked again, I order you to hide until the battle is
over."  With fury darkening his eyes, he stormed away.

Lindsey watched him, feeling her own temper simmer.  Men.  Despite the
fact that she had been surrounded by them all her life, she would never
understand them.  Did the lout not recognize that she had a need to
take care of herself?  Lifting her skirts, she went off in search of
her horse.  From his position across the clearing, Jamie accepted a
tankard from one of the men and glowered at Lindsey's retreating back. 
God in heaven, she was a distraction.  A very dangerous distraction. 
For the rest of the journey he must force himself to ignore her and
think only of the safety of everyone.  His carelessness had very nearly
cost them their lives.  He expelled a hiss of anger.  Praise heaven
that in a matter of days he would be at Holyrood and rid of her.

Still brooding, he drained his tankard and set it down.  When he
straightened, he saw a blur of movement.  Just beyond Lindsey, under
cover of misty rain and the tangle of forest growth, was a man on
horseback.  Jamie let out a cry of warning.  Everyone in camp looked
up.

In quick strides he was across the clearing and racing into the dense
forest.  With sword lifted, he flung Lindsey roughly behind him.

"Advance and prepare to do battle" he shouted to the stranger.

Lindsey let out a gasp at the sight of the man whose dark plaid blended
into the green of their surroundings, shielding him from view.

Though he was only a few feet from her, she had not spotted him until
Jamie called him out.

The man remained motionless, assessing the giant who faced him.  For
the space of a heartbeat it appeared that he would draw his sword.

Then, with a slow, dangerous smile, he slid from the saddle and
extended his hand.

"I heard the sound of battle, and thought to lend my sword.  But I see
I am not needed."

He saw the lass peer from behind the giant's back and his smile grew.

"I am Ian MacPherson.  And the land you stand upon is mine."

Jamie studied the man whose fair hair and pale eyes gave him a
youthful, innocent appearance.

"I am Jamie Mac Donald."  As the others surrounded them, Jamie added,
"And these are Douglas Gordon and his family."

Ian offered his hand to each man, taking their measure as he did.

"And the lovely lady?"  he asked.

Lindsey stepped from behind Jamie's back.

"This is Lindsey Gordon."  Jamie's tone was curt.

"A most beautiful lady."  Ian lifted her hand to his lips.

"And a most splendid swordsman."

"How would you know that?"  Jamie felt a flash of emotion as he watched
the man kiss Lindsey's hand.  Jealousy?  Impossible.  Never in his life
had he been jealous of any man.  Still, for some unexplained reason, he
mistrusted this man on sight.

"I happened upon the fight just as the lady disposed of her attackers,"
Ian said, meeting Lindsey's eyes.  He saw the flush on her cheeks and
pressed her fingers a moment longer before releasing them.

"And still you did not come to her defense?"  Jamie's voice held a
challenging tone.

"Alas, I was too late."

"Too late or too lazy..."

"Come, my lord MacPherson."  Douglas Gordon stepped between them,
hoping to diffuse the anger in Jamie's eyes.

"You will join us for a tankard before we move on?"

"Aye."  Ian paused, then turned toward Lindsey.

"That is, if the lovely lady will join me."

With growing anger Jamie watched as Lindsey blushed and moved along by
the stranger's side.

"You handled yourself admirably in battle, my lady.  You needed no
man's help to dispose of those villains."

Ian' swords brought a smile of pleasure to Lindsey' slips.

"If only certain other men could understand that."

"Where do you travel in such weather?"  Ian's voice drifted back to
Jamie, who paused in the woods to retrieve Lindsey's horse.

"To Edinburgh."

"How fortunate."  Jamie's head came up sharply as Ian added, "I journey
there myself.  Mayhap I will join you."

Chapter Five

Within the hour their company was prepared to move out.

Jamie watched as Ian MacPherson helped Lindsey into the saddle.  The
man's hands lingered overlong at her waist as she settled herself
comfortably.  And his gaze lingered overlong on her shapely limbs
before she smoothed her skirts down to cover them.

Jamie felt his dislike for the man grow.

"I have lived all my life in this forest," Ian assured Douglas
Gordon.

He pulled himself into the saddle and turned a smug look in Jamie's
direction.

"No highwayman would dare to attack you while you are in the company of
a MacPherson."

"Then we are grateful for your protection, my lord," the old man said
as he mounted.  Turning to his sons he called, "Come.  Let us ride."

As he followed, Jamie brooded.  Was he the only one who had doubts
about this MacPherson?  When he had first spotted the figure in the
forest, Jamie was quite certain that the man had been watching Lindsey
for evil purposes.  De spite Ian's claims otherwise, Jamie was not
convinced.  He would wait and watch.  Since MacPherson had agreed to
accompany them all the way to Edinburgh, they would be forced to endure
his company for many days.

As Jamie's horse moved out smartly, Wolf raced along under cover of the
forest, keeping Jamie always in view.

By early evening the rain had turned to a fine mist.  The horses picked
their way over the spongy grass of a high meadow.

"Darkness comes early in the Highlands," Jamie said to Douglas
Gordon.

"We must soon make camp for the night."

"I know the perfect place," Ian MacPherson called.

"Follow me."

As the others fell into line behind Ian's mount, Jamie took up the
rear, glancing often over his shoulder.  It would have been an easy
matter for the highwaymen to follow them.  There were too many in their
company to conceal, even when they had been in the dense forest.  Now
that they were in an open meadow, they were perfect targets.  Worse,
since three of their number had been wounded, they had been forced to
travel at a much slower pace than before.

They passed through glens and fells and made their way to the banks of
a swollen stream.

"This is a fine place to spend the night."  Ian slid from the saddle
and rushed to Lindsey's side to assist her.

"We will have fresh water to drink, and the trees will protect us from
any further rain that might fall."

"What is that sound?"  Lindsey asked.

"The water rushing over a precipice."  Ian pointed to a bend in the
stream, where the water tumbled over rocks before disappearing from
view.

"The stream spills out of sight into a deep gorge" " He turned to
Lindsey.  '" Twill lull you to sleep tonight, my lady.  "

"I will need no waterfall to help me sleep this night, my lord," she
said with a lilt of laughter.

Ian stared after her as she strolled to where her brothers were already
preparing a fire.

For long minutes Jamie remained on his mount, surveying the scene.  He
had not missed the look of appreciation on Ian's face when Lindsey had
walked away.  Again he felt the swift rush of anger and cursed himself
for his petty jealousy.

As he watched the others set up camp, it occurred to Jamie that the
thunder of the waterfall would drown out the sound of approaching
horses.  Could there be more to Ian MacPherson's plan than a
comfortable place to spend the night?  Sliding from the saddle Jamie
went in search of Douglas Gordon.

The old man was speaking in low tones to his sons.  They looked up as
Jamie approached.

"I sense danger here," Jamie announced without pre amble.

"Aye.  So you feel it, too, lad?"  The old man kept his tone low.

"We will post guards throughout the night.  Each of my sons will take
his turn making certain that the guards remain alert."

Jamie felt a sense of relief at the older man's words.  At least he was
not alone in his fears.

"I will take my turn standing guard, as well."

Douglas nodded.

"Now let us eat and get some rest."  They made their way to the
campfire where Lindsey, with Ian's help, had prepared a simple meal. 
The two were laughing as the others approached.  Jamie noted the ease'
with which Lindsey and Ian conversed as they ladled out the food. 
Though it rankled, Jamie sternly reminded himself that the woman was
nothing to him.  If she chose to befriend a man of dubious background,
it was her right.  He turned to Murray, who was watching his sister
with a frown.

"How are the wounded?"

"They will mend.  None sustained serious injuries, and they are resting
comfortably since Lindsey prepared a potion."

"Did I hear you speak my name?"

At the sound of Lindsey's husky voice, Jamie turned away and busied
himself with his meal.  Lindsey sat down beside her brother, facing
Jamie, smoothing her skirts modestly

"Jamie asked about the wounded men.  I told him that you had ministered
to them."

"Aye.  With Ian's help."  Jamie shifted uncomfortably.

"What have you learned about this MacPherson?"  Mur ray asked his
sister.

"He is a man of some importance."

"So he has told us," Murray said with a trace of impatience.

"Though I have always found that a truly important man need not talk
about himself.  His reputation speaks for him.  A braggart, on the
other hand, must boast to all who would listen."

Donald nodded as he joined them.

"Has MacPherson a fortress or a clan?"

Lindsey glanced at Jamie, then at her brothers.  With an impish grin
she shrugged.

"I know not.  He seemed eager to share but one fact with me."

"And that is?"  Murray and Donald asked in unison.

"He has no wife."

Murray shot his sister a dark look.  Beside them, Jamie got to his
feet. He would not sit here and listen to such prattle.

"I will join Neal in seeing to the horses."

As he.  stalked away, Lindsey watched him through narrowed gaze.  What
imp inside her made her behave so foolishly around this man?  It was
obvious to her that Jamie MacDonald avoided her whenever possible.  She
must learn to do the same with him.  Though the thought vexed her, she
struggled to put it aside.  It mattered not to her what Jamie MacDonald
did.  The man was a bully and a brute.  Not at all like Ian MacPherson,
whose manners were gentle and whose obvious attentions to her were like
a soothing balm.

At Murray's sudden silence, Lindsey put aside her troubling thoughts to
concentrate on the matter at hand.  She had been so deeply engrossed in
thoughts of the Heartless MacDonald, she had not even noticed that all
her brothers had joined them.

Neal, the youngest, gave her a lingering look as he repeated, "Did
MacPherson reveal nothing else about himself?."

"Nay.  Nothing."

"I was hoping he would take us to his home and introduce us to many
beautiful sisters," Donald said with a laugh.

"Can you think of nothing but the wenches?"  Murray asked.  With a sigh
of disappointment, their oldest brother emptied his tankard and went in
search of his father.

Laughing and chatting, the others ate quickly.  Only Lindsey did not
join in the laughter.  She seemed distracted as she went about her
evening chores.

As night settled over the Highlands, they wrapped themselves in their
cloaks and lay close to the fire.

Jamie made a slow turn around the camp and paused at each side to check
with the guard who stood watch.  Assured that there was nothing out of
the ordinary, he turned and retraced his steps.  At a sudden movement
he drew his dirk and went very still, blending into the shadows.

The small, slender form nearly collided with him before he reached out
a hand.

"Oh!"  Lindsey's eyes went wide when a hand closed over her mouth,
cutting off her cry of alarm.

"Not a word, my lady.  Do you understand?"

Lindsey felt the warmth of Jamie's breath against her cheek and was
reminded of that first time, when he had handled her so roughly.  She
felt the tingle race along her spine and wondered if it was fear, or
the reaction she always seemed to get when she stood too close to this
giant.

When she nodded her assent, he slowly removed his hand from her mouth.
They continued to stand so close they were almost touching.

"What are you doing here?"  Damn her for coming out here now.  He had
spent hours thinking about her, denying any concern for her.

Lindsey's heart was pounding like the thunder of horses' hooves.

"I

might ask you the same.  "

Jamie's eyes narrowed a fraction.

"I could not sleep."

"Nor could I."

"The journey that lies ahead will be arduous, my lady.  You should take
advantage of this time to rest."

"And you, my lord."  She tilted her head to study him in the
moonlight.

"Is the Heartless MacDonald above us mortals?  Do you require no
rest?"

At her taunt his lips curved into a smile.

"I am a man, my lady.  No more.  No less.  When I am assured that all
is secure, I will take my rest."

He slipped the dirk into his waistband.

Seeing the movement she asked, "Do you fear that the highwaymen are
still near?"

He shrugged.

"There are many dangers that can befall travelers.  It is my
responsibility to see that our company arrives safely in Edinburgh."

"Responsibility."  She lifted her head.

"I heard you speak of it today to my father and 6rot hers Have you al
ways placed responsibility above all else, Jamie MacDonald?"

"What else it there, after all, except duty, honor, trust?"  A wisp of
her unruly hair lifted on the breeze, and he curled his hand into a
fist to keep from brushing it aside.

"They are the measure of a man."

She saw his eyes gleam in the darkness.

"When I was but a lad, Brice Campbell, my foster father, told me that
without these virtues, though a man be wealthy beyond belief, he has
nothing."

Lindsey was surprised at the firmness of his tone.  This was another
side to the rogue, one she had not seen before.

From the many rumors about this man, she had thought him to be a cruel
and undisciplined warrior.  But it would seem that he had been reared
with nobler virtues.

They stood for several moments studying each other in the moonlight.

The sudden tension in him caused her to shiver.

He misunderstood.  Instantly his hands came to her arms.

"You are cold.

You should have worn a wrap.  "

"Nay.  I..."  She started to back away, but his touch had her frozen to
the spot.

He removed his cloak and draped it around her.  It was such a gallant
gesture, it took her completely by surprise.  She shivered again.  The
warmth of his body still lingered in the folds of his garment, driving
away the chill.

His hands paused at her throat as he drew the cloak tighter.  Then he
went very still as he stared at her.

His voice roughened.

"You should return to the fire now."

She swallowed, but made no move to turn away.

Jamie studied her, bathed in a pool of moonlight.  He was accustomed to
the presence of coarse camp followers or the titled women at court who
had practiced the art of pleasing a man.  But this female was unlike
any he had ever known.  There was a wildness about her, and yet an
innocence, that made her oddly appealing.  And so tempting.

Jamie knew he should walk away.  Now, before he gave in to the
temptation to kiss her.

He allowed himself the pleasure of brushing a strand of hair from her
cheek.  That was his undoing.  Her skin was so soft it begged to be
touched.

"If your father should wake, he will miss you."  Jamie's deep voice was
barely more than a whisper.

mye.  "

His tone roughened.

"He will send your brothers looking for you."

"Aye."

A silence stretched between them.  Still neither of them moved.

"God in heaven, Lindsey."  He cupped her face between his big hands and
stared hungrily into her eyes.

"Go back to your bed and let me get on with the business of seeing to
our safety."

Her eyes widened, mirroring her surprise at the harshness of his
tone.

But she did not pull away.  Her voice was a low challenge.

"Do you always go about ordering others to do your bidding, without
regard to what they want?"  His eyes narrowed.

"And what is it you want?"

What indeed?  When she was standing close to this man, her mind was too
befuddled to think.

"I want you to leave me alone, Jamie MacDonald."

"Do you?"  For the space of a heartbeat he studied her, seeing the
flare of her nostrils, the set of her jaw.

"And that is why you came looking for me in the darkness?"

"I was not looking for you.  I was returning to my bed when you
intruded."

His voice sent new tremors through her.

"Nor was I looking for you.

But now that you are here, do you know what I want?  "

Before she could respond he lowered his face.

Sensing his intentions, Lindsey's hand went to the dirk at her waist.

As her fingers closed.  over the hilt, he grasped her roughly by the
hand, forcing her to drop the knife into the grass at their feet.

"Beware, my lady.  There are men who have died for less."

Lindsey's breath caught in her throat.  For one brief moment her heart
forgot to beat.  Then it began racing so fast she thought surely the
whole camp could hear it.  She was suddenly filled with fear at the
terrible feelings that swamped her.  Feelings she had to deny.

She struggled to use the same tone of voice that she often used with
her brothers, when she wanted to exert authority.

"Release me at once, Jamie MacDonald."

Against her lips he murmured, "Woman, you would be wiser to command the
waterfall to stop."  His mouth closed over hers in a savage kiss.

Heat poured through her, searing her flesh, turning her blood to liquid
fire.  She steeled herself against the feelings that assaulted her.
Though stunned, she managed to pull back, but her strength was no match
for his.

He lifted his head.  With orie hand he cupped the back of her head,
while his other slid to her back, holding her firmly against him.

She could feel every one of his fingers along her spine.  He lowered
his head and she watched him as if in a trance.  As their mouths
touched again, she gave a little moan and closed her eyes.

His lips were surprisingly soft.  Soft and agile.  She absorbed the
first shock and struggled to show no reaction.

Jamie felt the initial tremors of fear that rippled through her and
sought to soothe her.  It was obvious that she was distraught by their
kiss, and struggling to deny any pleasure in it.  Impatiently he rubbed
his mouth over hers until he felt her gradual response.  Her fingers
curled into the front of his tunic.  Tension coiled through her,
leaving her movements stiff and awkward.

Lindsey breathed in the distinctly masculine scents of horses and
leather, and the clean fragrance of rain that would always remind her
of him.  And then, as his mouth moved over hers, she was lost in the
dark, mysterious taste of him.  Against her will her body strained
toward him, no longer stiff and awkward, but eager, anxious.

She heard him moan softly as he took the kiss deeper.  His mouth
plundered hers.  His hands at her hips drew her closer, tormenting them
both.  And then his hands moved along her sides until they encountered
the soft swell of her breasts.

Shocked at his boldness, she tried to pull back, but her strength was
no match for his.  She stood very still, fighting the tremors that
rocked her.

"Nay.  You must not .... " Lindsey felt herself tumbling into some
wild, dark place she had never gone before.  A place that frightened
her, yet exhilarated her.  She felt the sting of his breath as his lips
roamed her face, then returned to claim her lips once more.  Her heart
was racing, spinning dangerously out of control.

Jamie was stunned by the feelings unleashed by this little female.

Since their first kiss, he had been haunted by the taste of her.  So
wild.  So sweet.  He'd wanted to feel the thrill of desire once more,
to experience the wild, soaring need.  But this.  This had him stunned
and reeling.  He knew he must end it.  He must step away or be consumed
by the fire.  But first, he would savor one more touch, one more
taste.

He inhaled the fragrance of evergreen and wildflowers that clung to
her.  He tasted the honeyed sweetness of her.  And then, with one last
burst of control, he released her.

Lindsey stood very still, fighting the tremors that rocked her.  Taking
a deep breath she filled her lungs.

Jamie bent and retrieved his cloak, which had fallen from her shoulders
and had dropped, unnoticedl to the ground.  As he did, his fingers
encountered the cold steel of her knife, and he remembered the way she
had struggled against him.

She had not invited his kiss.  Nay.  In truth, she had fought it.  She
seemed genuinely afraid of his touch.  He felt a flood of remorse that
he had fforced himself on her.

He draped the cloak around her shoulders and handed her the dirk.  In a
voice gruff With emotion he whispered, "Now you see that you must go
back to the others.  You are not safe here."

For a moment she made no response, terrified that her voice would
betray her.  When at last she dared, she whispered, "See that this does
not happen again, my lord.  Or I will be forced to defend myself."

As if to emphasize her words she wrenched the cloak from her shoulders
and tossed it into his arms.  As she did so, their fingers brushed.

They were both aware of the jolt.  Instantly she withdrew her hand and
turned, praying that her legs would not fail her.

She could feel Jamie's gaze upon her as she made her way to the fire.

As she walked she kept her spine rigid, her head held high.  When at
last she lay down and covered herself with the plaid, she gave in to
the violent tremors that shook her.

Jamie turned away and began to stalk around the camp once more.  He
glanced at the clouds scudding across a full moon.  Sleep, he knew,
would elude him this night.

Why did thoughts of Lindsey torment him so?  She was not at all the
sort of woman he would choose for himself.  She was neither
soft-spoken, nor humble, nor shy.  If truth be told, she was . 
prickly.

Aye.  She was a prickly little female.  And the sooner he was rid of
her, the better.

When at last he had satisfied himself that there was no immediate
danger, he lay down beside the fire.  His dark thoughts were of lips
that tasted wild and sweet, and a lithe young body that tormented him
with promises of endless delight.

Chapter Six

Lindsey lay in a dreamy slumber, neither wide awake nor quite asleep.

A restlessness trembled through her.  Jamie's kiss had disturbed her
far more than she cared to admit, even to herself.

There was something so unsettling about this giant of a man who had
burst in upon her calm, well-ordered life.  He was a contradiction. 
How could a man known as the Heart less MacDonald, who was known to be
ruthless in battle, show such tenderness when he held her?  Yet beneath
that tenderness she sensed a very carefully banked tension, as though
he held his emotions in tight control when he was with her.  She
shivered.  Aye, he wag.  not a tender man.  And, she reminded herself,
she must never forget that he had used her to get to her family.

How odd that her father had trusted him almost from the beginning.

Even her brothers, usually so suspicious of strangers, had begun fo
warm to him.  She was puzzled by her own behavior.  Never before had
she allowed a man to take such liberties with her.  She should have
plunged her dirk into his heart.

With a sigh she touched a finger to her lips and felt the familiar
tingle.  The mere thought of Jamie MacDonald brought a rush of heat
through her veins.

Beside her she heard the faint snap of a twig.  In her dreamle state
she imagined that the man whose kiss had her so unsettled was returning
for another taste of her lips.  With her mouth curved into a smile she
opened her eyes.  The smile became a gasp of horror as she saw a
hideously ugly man with one eye covered by a bloody patch reaching for
her.

Before she could scream a hand covered her mouth.  She struggled to
evade him, but he had the advantage of strength and surprise.  By the
time she was fully awake and fighting, a rough cloak was pulled over
her head, muffling her cries.

A second pair of hands reached for her and she was tossed crudely over
the back of a waiting horse.  As the animal raced across the uneven
terrain, she was jostled like a sack of grain.

In the predawn darkness Jamie sat up, wondering what had disturbed his
slumber.  He thought he had heard, in the mists of sleep, the
half-strangled cry of a morning bird.  Rubbing his eyes, his gaze
scanned the circle of sleeping figures around the fire.  Nothing seemed
amiss.

He paused a moment to study the plaid that covered Lindsey.  As he
stared he felt his throat go dry.  There was something wrong with the
mound where Lindsey lay.  It did not move.  It was as still as death.

Getting to his feet he spanned the distance between them and knelt
beside the plaid.  Lifting it, he saw that several blankets had been
mounded beneath to give the illusion of a sleeping body.  He let out a
shout that had the entire company struggling to their feet and reaching
for their weapons.

"Lindsey is gone."  Jamie stood, unaware that her plaid was still
clutched in a death grip in his hand.

"Gone?  Where?"  Murray Gordon was the first on his feet.

"I know not.  I heard something, a cry perhaps.  And when I checked,
Lindsey's blanket was empty."

Neal sat up, rubbing his sleepy eyes, then glanced at the empty place
next to him.

"Ian MacPherson is also gone.  He was sleeping here beside me."

There was a sudden hush among the assembled.  Jamie's hand clenched
into a fist at his side.  Why had he not voiced his concern earlier? 
He had sensed that the man was not what he appeared to be.

Murray exploded with a furious oath.

"If the lout has harmed our Lindsey..."

"Mayhap they have just slipped away for a moment together Donald said
with a hint of a smile coloring his tone.

"It is what I would do if I were MacPherson.  My sister is, after all,
not hard to look at."

He turned to Jamie.

"Lindsey will have one more reason to dislike you, Jamie MacDonald, if
you have embarrassed her by alerting all of us to her little tryst."

"Nay.  This is no lovers' stroll in the moonlight.

"Twas made to look as though she was still here with us, to keep us
from missing her until her captor had made good his escape."  Jamie
glanced beyond the handsome young man to where old Douglas Gordon stood
alone.  The older man's face revealed his inner turmoil.  It was he,
after all, who had insisted upon bringing the lass long on this
dangerous journey.

"Aye.  I agree with Jamie MacDonald," Douglas said.

"This is no lovers' " tryst.  Our Lindsey is not like other women.  She
would ne'er go off with a stranger.  Especially the likes of Ian
MacPherson.  "

Jamie felt his face flush for a moment at the thought of what he and
Lindsey had shared just hours ago in the moonlight.

"Then where has she gone?"  Robbie's eyes widened with sudden fear. 
The poet was unaccountably lost for words.

"Who would want to hurt her?"

His words brought fear to everyone in camp.  A fear that sliced like a
razor.

"I know not.  But this much I know."  Jamie's eyes blazed.  His voice
was low with fury.

"I will find him.  And when I do, he will pay with his life."

Douglas put a hand on Jamie's sleeve.

"Lindsey is our kin, lad.  We will go.  And we will find her."

Jamie lowered his head, unwilling to let the older man see how strongly
he felt about this matter.  But he shook his head firmly as he said,
"Nay.

"Tis my fight as well.  You are here at my request.  I am responsible
for you.  All of you."

For a moment the old man studied him closely.  It was obvious that
Jamie was as distraught as he over their loss.

"Murray, Donald," their father called.

"You two will ride with me to the south and east.

Robbie, Neal.  You will ride with Jamie MacDonald to the north and
west. "

Jamie gave him a grateful nod.

To the remaining men Douglas said, "You will comb the forest, leaving
one man to stay with the wounded.  In the event that my daughter should
elude her captor and return to this place, you will send a rider to us
at once."

Jamie had little hope that one small female like Lindsey could elude a
man bent upon evil.

With their thoughts as dark as the sky, Jamie and the Gordons were
already saddling their mounts.  Within minutes they disappeared into
the surrounding forest.

For the first few moments of her abduction, Lindsey had been gripped by
a paralyzing terror.  Now, she struggled to catch her breath and calm
her racing heart.

The heavy cloak pinned her arms to her sides and completely covered her
head and face.  With her head hanging over the horse in such an awkward
fashion, she had no sense of direction.  The blood rushed to her head,
leaving her dizzy, but even under such difficult conditions, certain
things became clear to her.  They were following the river.  She could
hear the roar of the water and she could hear the horses' hooves splash
through the shallows.

There were at least two horsemen.  They did not speak, but she could
make out an occasional muffled oath as one or the other encountered a
low-hanging branch.

These must be the highwaymen.  In her mind's eye she could see the grim
faces of the men who had attacked them in the forest.  These were
desperate villains, who would snuff out a life for the sake of a warm
cloak or a precious jewel.  These were men without family, without
honor.  Men who did unspeakable things to the women they captured.

As they continued to ride, Lindsey struggled to collect her thoughts.

She could not allow herself to dwell on the fear that gnawed at her.

She must remain alert.  When the opportunity presented itself to
escape, she must be ready.

Jamie studied the marks by the river's edge, then pulled himself into
the saddle and signaled for Robbie and Neal to follow.

"How can you be certain this is the way?"  Neal asked.  Jamie met the
lad's troubled look.

"One horse carries a heavy burden.  Its prints sink more deeply into
the mud.  I'll wager that horse carries both Lindsey and her captor."

"One horse," Robbie said, turning toward Jamie.

"Are you saying there are more than one?"

"Aye.  I count two.  But if it is the highwaymen we encountered
earlier, they will be returning to an encampment to join the others
soon.  If possible, we want to intercept them before then."

"Do you think they have already harmed my sister?"  the youngest lad
asked.

"Nay."  Jamie's reply was spoken quickly.  Too quickly.  Though he told
himself that it was meant merely to comfort a troubled lad, he knew
better.  It was his own comfort he sought.  He could not allow himself
to dwell upon the harm that would befall Lindsey at the hands of those
villains.

"There is no time to harm her, lad.  First they must elude capture."  '
He nudged his mount into a run, with the others close behind him.  As
they followed a bend in the river, he saw the prints where the two
horses had crossed.  On the far side, he found more prints, indicating
that they had entered the forest.  Jamie felt his hopes plummet.  It
would be much more difficult to follow a trail in the gloom of the
woods.  And much easier for Lindsey's captors to hide.

He glanced into the trusting faces of Neal and Robbie and vowed he
would not let them down.  Then he turned and led the way into the
thickly wooded forest.

Lindsey struggled to breathe.  The coarse wool that covered her head
was choking her.  Briars and branches snagged her, ripping her tender
flesh through her clothing as the horse plunged onward.

Suddenly, with no warning, the horses came to a halt.  A chorus of
harsh voices was raised in greeting.  Hands clutched at her, dragging
her roughly from the saddle.  The breath was knocked from her lungs as
she hit the ground.  The cloak was snatched from her, leaving her gown
hiked above her knees.  But as she struggled to modestly arrange her
skirts, someone tied a dirty rag over her eyes.  Her arms were twisted
painfully behind her; her wrists bound so tightly she cried out.

Someone gave her a vicious shove.  She fell backward and lay very
still, fighting the desire to retch.  "So, lad.  Ye did as ye
promised."

A hand touched her hair, sending an icy shiver along her spine.  Her
captor replied in an odd whisper that sent tremors through her.  It was
a cold, deadly sound like none she had heard before.

The babble of voices moved away, leaving her trembling with relief.

Though she strained, Lindsey could hear nothing more of the
conversation other than occasional bursts of laughter.

She determined that there was fire some distance away.  Each time a
branch was added she felt the rush of heat and heard the crackle of
flame upon dried wood.  Then it would grow cool once more.

She shivered in the dampness of the grass.  It must be nearly dawn.

Soon her father and brothers would awaken and miss her.  But how would
they ever find her?  Her captors had taken so many twists and turns, it
had been impossible to chart their course.  She knew only that they had
left the river and had plunged deeply into the forest.

She shivered again.  She must not wait for the others to free her.  She
must make her own escape.

Lying very still she moved her fingers over the dirt until she
encountered several sharp stones embedded there.  Though it was
painful, she managed to rub her bindings over them.  In no time she had
sustained dozens of tiny cuts, leaving her hands raw and bloody.

She was so engrossed in her task, she failed to hear the low rumble of
conversation until she heard, "Aye.  It might work.  But would they
pay?

Or would they assemble an army to find her?  "

Again there was that terrifying whisper.  The reply was too low to
hear. But the burst of leCvd laughter that followed sent a fresh ripple
of fear through her.  She bent to her task with renewed energy.

"What do we do with her until then?"

Lindsey's head came up sharply, but all she heard were hoots of
laughter and several crude comments.  She felt the first stands of rope
begin to unravel and continued to work feverishly on her bindings.  By
now she was immune to the pain.  Fear and determination drove her.

She listened to the words of farewell from the others as a horse and
rider departed.  Who had gone?  And why?

There was an odd silence, and though she could not see,

Lindsey felt a prickle of alarm.  She sensed that the strangers were
stating at her.  She lay very still, not daring to move, not even
daring to breathe.

Within a few minutes she could smell meat roasting over the fire.  The
distant voices told her that the men had once again drifted away.  She
returned to the task of cutting through her bindings and felt the rope
unravel further.  She knew it was just a matter of time before she
would be free.  If only she could manage to keep the attention of these
villains away from her.

She heard footsteps approaching and fought down a sense of panic.

"You will not be needing this now," came a rough voice as the rag
covering her eyes was torn away.  She blinked against the light of the
fire.  Already the sky to the east was rimmed with ribbons of light.

The man who knelt beside her was the man who had attacked her in
camp.

He leaned close, peering at her with an evil grin, his single dark eye
glittering like a raven' s.

"You are even more comely than I thought."

Lindsey struggled to hide the fear and revulsion she felt.  She could
not take her gaze from the bloody patch that covered his other eye.

The man reeked of sweat and ale.  His clothes were unwashed.  He had a
hungry look about him that had nothing to do with a need for food.

"Why have you brought me here?"  she asked.

"Mayhap you were brought here for my pleasure."  He ran his hand along
her throat, then caught her chin in his hand, lifting her face for his
inspection.

She recoiled at his touch.

The man threw back his head and roared as the others gathered around.

"We have been told yours is a wealthy clan.  Your father even has the
friendship of the queen.  That makes you an heiress, my fine lady.  And
since ours is a poor clan, dependent upon the goodness of others..."

This brought a burst of laughter from the men who had gathered around
displaying gaudy jewels and fine silk so out of place among this ragged
band that they must surely have been stolen.

"We wager you will be worth a great deal to us."  Her captor caught her
by the arm and drew her close to his face.

"What do you think your father will pay to get you back?"

Lindsey swallowed back her terror.  She must show no weakness to these
men.

With a sneer she scoffed at the man whose face glowed with greed.

"I

will be worthless to you if you harm me.  For I know that my father
will then pay you nothing.  "

At her boldness, he glowered at her a moment, then released her.  She
was pleased to note that several of the others glanced nervously at one
another, then moved back, as if afraid to get too close.

"The lass is right, Argus."

Argus.  At last, Lindsey had a name from among this clan of monsters.

Growing bolder she turned to her captor.

"Why did you cover my eyes when we first arrived?  Was there something
or ... someone ... I ought not to see?"

He scrambled to his feet and snarled, "I think you ask too many
questions, my fine lady."  Stalking to the fire, he tore a piece from
the meat that had been roasting over the coals.  A lamb, stolen from a
nearby farmer, Lindsey surmised.

As the others drifted toward the fire, she renewed her efforts to free
her hands and was rewarded when the rope fell away.  Once loose, she
picked up the strands of the rope and folded her hands behind her back
to give the illusion that she was still bound.

She studied the camp for the best means of escape.  The horses were
tethered near a stand of trees.  But how could she cover the distance
without being seen?

Argus began to walk toward her, and she felt her heart begin to
pound.

All would be lost if he discovered that her ropes had been cut.  She
swallowed her terror and cautioned herself to show no emotion.

In his filthy hand was a strip of meat, which he held out to her.

"Eat."

"Nay.  I cannot."  She turned her head away when he lifted it to her
lips.

"This is all the food you will get, my fine lady.  Eat.  Or I shall
force it down your lovely throat."

She thought about the knife at her waist and fought back the temptation
to reach for it.  With a feeling of rage and helplessness she allowed
him to feed her and struggled not to gag.  She must not draw undue
attention to herself, else all would fail.  By sheer strength of will,
she managed to swallow the meat.

Satisfied that he had managed to dominate his prisoner, Argus swaggered
back to the fire.

"You see.  Already the lass is eating out of my hand.

"Twill be only a matter of time before she succumbs to my charms."

At his comment the others burst into coarse laughter.  Lindsey could
afford to waste no more time.  The man would return to her side again
soon.  And the next time he would be even bolder.  She knew what men
like this did to their female captives.  But she would not allow
herself to dwell upon such thoughts.

Flattening herself to the ground she began to crawl to ward the line of
horses.  If she could make it without being seen, she could escape into
the forest.  She decided to take the rest of the horses with her so
that these villains could not follow.  With her pulse roaring in her
ears she scrambled forward, the unnamed terror driving her.

It seemed to take forever to crawl the distance that separated her from
freedom, but at last she reached the horses.  With a surge of
anticipation she came to her knees, ready to spring.

Highland Heart 83 A heavy boot came down on the small of her back,
crushing her into the grass.  A deep voice said, "So, my fine lady.

You are more clever than I thought.  Even rope cannot hold you.  Were
you hoping for a stroll in the forest?  Surely you would not go
alone?

Come, we will go together.  Who knows what adventure can be found?  "

Bending, Argus rolled her over and caught her roughly by the front of
her gown, dragging her to her feet.

He threw back his head and roared with laughter as she struggled to
evade his cruel hands.

"What?  Could it be you had hoped to leave our pleasant company?  Ah,
my fine lady.  There is so much pleasure still awaiting you."

He pinned her hands behind her and dragged her close.

"I have something very special in mind for you."

She cringed as his hot breath stung her cheek.

Tangling his fingers into her hair, he forced her face close to his and
gave a cruel laugh.

"I have decided that your father will pay the same price whether you
are touched or untouched.  And as for me, I have every intention of
touching, and enjoying the pleasure of your company while I may."

He ground his mouth over hers until she tasted her own blood.  Though
she kicked and fought, she was no match for his strength.  She
struggled to free her hands from his grasp, o He seemed surprised by
the fury of this fragile-looking female.  As she continued to struggle
his smile disappeared.  His face suddenly became contorted with rage.

"I have indulged you long enough.  Now I will take what I want."

As if in slow motion, Lindsey saw his hand swing out in an arc.  She
heard the sound of his palm connecting with her face and felt an
explosion of pain that sent tiny star fragments dancing in front of her
eyes.  Then the pain grew hotter and hotter, until she cried out.  A
terrible roaring sound filled her brain, and she drifted into a cushion
of darkness.

Chapter Seven

Through the mists that clouded her mind, Lindsey heard the sound of her
gown being tom.  A sense of outrage drove her, despite the fact that
she was barely conscious.  With fingernails and teeth she scratched and
bit until her attacker let out a hiss of pain.

"Now you will pay, wench," Argus snarled.

"When I finish with you, you will beg to die."

He slapped her again with a force that snapped her He ad to one side.

With a little moan, she fell back, forced to endure the cruel hands
that tore at her garments.

"I am going to enjoy this," Argus whispered.

As if from a great distance Lindsey heard another voicel one she
recognized as Jamie MacDonald's, saying in deadly coldness, "Not nearly
as much as I am going to enjoy killing you."

At the icy tone, Argus looked up in terror.  His movements stilled as
the cold blade of a knife pressed into his back.

In a voice low with fury Jamie added, "For every pain you inflicted
upon the lass, I will inflict a hundred upon you."

Argus swallowed.

"Unless you spare my life, my men will see that you never leave this
place.  You had best drop your weapon."  "Save your empty threats."
Jamie brought his arm around the highwayman and pressed his knife to
his throat.

"Your men have already been overpowered."  His voice lowered
ominously.

"Where is your leader?"

Argus felt sweat bead his forehead as the rough grasp began to cut off
his breath.  He could feel the barely con trolled tension in the man's
hands.  Any moment now his attacker would explode.

"He rides to the lady's camp to seek a ransom.  It was he who suggested
that we entertain ourselves with her."

"You miserable cur."  Jamie itched to slit the man's throat.  But his
first thought was of the lass who lay as still and broken as a wounded
bird.

With a vicious shove Jamie tossed the man to Robbie, who, with Neai,
stood guard over the others, who had been subdued.

"Bind him," Jamie ordered.

"And kill any man who attempts to escape."

Lindsey's brothers had never before witnessed such blind fury.  Jamie
MacDonaid's temper was a terrible thing to see.  Without a word they
led the villain away.

Sheathing his weapon, Jamie dropped to his knees and cradled Lindsey in
his arms.  Blooi trickled from her lip, trailing a crimson ribbon along
her creamy throat.  Her gown was torn, revealing bruised flesh.

Seeing her, Jamie fought a wave of emotions: fury at the animal who had
inflicted such pain on this helpless maiden, self-hatred that he had
let down his uard and allowed this terrible thing to happen to one
under his protection, and a sudden rush of tenderness toward the woman
who lay before him.

With her last ounce of energy Lindsey brought up her hands to ward off
any further blows.

"Nay," she cried.

"Leave me."  "You are safe now, my lady," Jamie whispered.

Her lids fluttered.  The giant who held her seemed to swim in and out
of her line of vision.  In halting tones she whispered, "Is it truly
you, Jamie MacDonald?"

"Aye, my lady.  You are safe."

"Was that Robbie's voice I heard?"

"Aye, lass.  He and Neal accompanied me.  Donald and Murray ride with
your father.  Your brothers overpowered the other highwaymen.  They
will see that the animal who did this to you does not break free."

She struggled to gather the remnants of her torn bodice.

"My brothers must not see me like this."

"Hush, my lady.  Lie still.  Do not tire yourself."

With great tenderness Jamie removed his cloak and wrapped it around
her.  But when he attempted to lift her in his arms she pushed away.

"Nay.  I must stand alone.  Else they will think me weak."

Jamie was aware of the heroic effort she made to get to her feet.  But
though she swayed for a moment, she waved away his hand and took a
tentative step, then another, until she had made it to her brothers'
side near the fire.

To her youngest brother, whose eyes were troubled at the sight of her,
she called, "Do not grieve for me, Neal.  I am unscathed, as you can
see."  In a strong voice she said, "Bring my horse.  We must ride to
camp and alert Father that I am alive."

Neal cast a worried glance at Jamie, who motioned him to do her
bidding.  When the horse was brought to her, Lindsey pulled herself
into the saddle and forced herself to sit very straight.  Whatever pain
she suffered, whatever fear rippled through her, she would deal with it
later, when she was alone.  For now she must show only the strong woman
she had always shown to the world.

Jamie watched her, marveling at her iron will.

"We will take these highwaymen to our camp and decide later what is to
be done with them."

His tone was deliberately devoid of emotion, masking the fury that
still simmered within him.

"Then one of you must alert your father and brothers that Lindsey has
been found."

With a tough new hardness to their features, Neal and Robbie herded the
villains onto their horses, binding them together so that they could
not escape.

Jamie studied Lindsey's stricken features.  There was a pallor to her
skin that worried him.  Though she was struggling to put on a brave
face for the sake of her brothers, he sensed that tears were very near
the surface.  But from her look of determination he knew that she would
insist upon dealing with it in her own way.

It was Robbie's hoarse whisper that broke through his thoughts.  Jamie
saw the lad's eyes grow misty before he turned away and fumbled with
the reins of his horse.

"Until now," the young poet said softly, "I have been content to write
pretty words and envision a world of beauty.  Before this moment I have
ne'er wanted to lift a sword against a man.  But I cannot bear the
thought of these men soiling one as precious as our Lindsey.  I would
have gladly given my life for her."

"Aye, lad.  I share your feelings," Jamie said softly.  Robbie pulled
himself into the saddle and sat a moment, composing his features.  When
his emotions were under control he brought his horse alongside
Lindsey's.

"I am.  grateful she whispered to her brother, " that you were able to
find me so quickly.  "

'"Twas Jamie MacDonald who found you," Robbie said.

"Were it not for him, all would have been lost.  He drove us
unmercifully' when we feared we had lost your trail."

Lindsey glanced beyond her brother to the giant Who stood a little away
from them.

"Then I am in your debt, my lord."

Jamie gave her a slight bow and turned away.  When he had mounted they
moved out.

Lindsey set a brisk pace, calling, "Father will be beside himself until
he sees that I am safe."

Robbie nodded his agreement.

"Aye.  We must ease his mind.  He was greatly tormented by your
abduction."

At that Lindsey urged her mount into a run.

From his vantage point, Jamie watched with grudging admiration.

"Neal.  Robbie," he called, "ride on either side of the prisoners to
assure that none escapes."

The two lads did as they were told.

As they entered the darkness of the forest, Lindsey felt the tremors
begin.  Thin morning sunlight filtered through the canopy of vines and
tangled growth, casting strange shadows along the trail.  Though she
struggled, she could not seem to put aside the dark fears that clutched
her, like hands.  She shivered.  Cruel, grasping hands.  She felt a
terrible, wrenching ache in the pit of her stomach and doubled over in
the saddle.  But the pain would not subside.  Though she took deep,
calming breaths, she felt the forest closing in upon her.  A little
moan escaped her lips as she felt herself falling.  The shock jolted
her as she hit the ground.

Instantly Jamie was beside her.  With a look of concern he cradled her
in his strong arms.  A cursory examination told him that she had
sustained no serious injury.  But it was plain that the lass had pushed
herself beyond the limits.  Her skin was deathly white, her breathing
shallow.

Neal hurriedly dismounted and knelt beside them.  His face was etched
with concern.

"It was as I first suspected.  Lindsey has been harmed by that
brute."

Jamie noted the pleading in Lindsey's eyes and kept his tone
deliberately bland.

"She is unharmed.  Your sister merely needs time to recover her
strength."

When Robbie also dismounted, Jamie saw the way Lindsey struggled to sit
up.  Thinking quickly he commanded, "Take these villains to our camp
and see that a rider is dispatched to your father.  I will remain here
with Lindsey until she is strong enough to ride."

Lindsey shot him a look of gratitude.

"I think we should stay together," Robbie protested.

It was obvious that Jamie was accustomed to taking charge.  In brisk
tones he said, "Nay.  There is your father to think about.  He will be
heartsick until he is reassured that his daughter lives."

"Jamie is fight, Robbie," Neal agreed.

"Father and the others will be crazed with worry by now."

"Aye."  Robbie straightened and pulled himself once more into the
saddle.  He could see the wisdom of Jamie's words.  His sister would be
safe with Jamie MacDonald.  There were few who Could successfully
challenge this giant and win.  Especially when the Heartless MacDonald
was in such a foul temper.  Their father's fears must be put to rest.

"You do not mind, Lindsey?"  Neal called.

"Nay."  She gave her brothers a reassuring smile.

"I will merely rest for a little while and then I will follow you
soon."

She watched as the column of horses moved off through the woods.  When
at last she turned she was startled to find Jamie studying her
carefully.

At the intensity of his gaze she felt the heat rush to her cheeks.
Lowering her eyes she said, "It seems I am once again in your debt, my
lord.  Thank you for sparing me the many questions of my brothers."

"And what of my questions, my lady?"  She remained silent.

"are you harmed, Lindsey?"

"Nay," she replied quickly.

"I am merely ... weary, my lord.  I would be alone with my thoughts for
a while."

Jamie's jaw clenched.  Her meaning was quite clear.  Since it was
privacy she desired, he would grant her wish.  Without a word, he began
to gather fallen logs.  Soon a fire blazed.  Close to the heat of the
fire he prepared a pallet for her and helped her to lie down.

When he was certain she was resting comfortably, he stepped into the
forest.  A short time later he returned to the clearing with a deer
slung over his shoulders.  Following a short distance behind was the
sleek form of Wolf, who paused at the edge of the clearing, refusing to
move closer.

The lass was asleep.  But the remnants of tears still glistened on her
closed lashes.

"Nay!"

At Lindsey's fevered cry Jamie rushed to her side and gathered her
gently into his arms.  While she struggled he held her close and
murmured words meant to soothe.  When at last she fell silent, he lay
her back down.  Her cloak had slipped from her shoulders, revealing her
torn and tattered gown.  The bruises visible on her flesh caused his
stomach muscles to contract violently.

His hand curled into a fist when he thought of the villain who had
caused her such pain.  With quick, efficient movements, he drew the
cloak around her and brushed the damp hair from her cheek.  When she
started to cry softly he sat beside her and held her.  She was so
small, so wounded.  And so damnably independent.  He felt a nearly
overpowering need to protect her from every harm.

Holding her as tenderly as a wee hairn, he rocked her and whispered
words of endearment, until at last she fell once more into a fevered
sleep.

He lay her gently upon the pallet and got to his feet.  Her tears had
left damp streaks on his tunic.  Absently he ran a finger over the
dampness.  For long minutes he stood over her, willing her the escape
she would find in sleep.  When at last he was satisfied that her fears
had momentarily subsided, he strode to the edge of the river, where he
picked a collection of herbs and plants.  Returning to the clearing,

he ground them into a thick paste, which he applied to the raw flesh of
Lindsey's hands.

As he worked he measured her small palm against his own.  How delicate
were her hands, with long tapered fingers and soft pink flesh.  Not at
all like his work-worn palms.  As he continued to rub the paste over
her hands he felt the sexual tug, low and deep, and fought to ignore
it. Each time he touched this woman he found himself battling desires
that nearly swamped him.

When he had finished with the ointment, he set out to find other chores
that would tax his strength.  It was important that he stay busy,
Tethering the horses, he removed the frayed reins from her mount and
bent to the task of mending them.

Clouds obscured the noon sun.  A blazing fire held the chill of the
forest at bay.

Jamie returned from his foray with an armload of logs, then stopped
short.  A shadow hovered beside the sleeping Lindsey.  Dropping the
logs Jamie unsheathed his sword and raced to where she lay.

Wolf lifted his head, then backed away.  Jamie felt a moment of
surprise.  Until now the hound had shown little interest in humans, yet
it was plain that the animal had been lying beside Lindsey.  The marks
from his body were still visible in the sand.  The hound disappeared
into the woods.

Jamie tossed a log on the fire, then stared into the flames, deep in
thought.  Even the hound seemed to sense the lass's defenselessness.

The wounds to Lindsey's body were not serious, but the damage done to
her peace of mind was far worse.  Each time she slept, she battled
demons, waking with a cry, ready to fight the enemy that still stalked
her in her dreams.

His musings were interrupted by the soft moan that broke from her lips.
He hurried to her side.  Her eyes were wide,

frightened.  As he knelt beside her she lunged at him and he was again
surprised at the strength it took to subdue her.

"Easy, lass.  You are safe now," he murmured, as he had each time she
awoke.

"Jamie?"  His voice pierced her consciousness, rousing her.

"Is it you?"

"Aye."

"That man.  Argus.  He is..."

"Gone, my lady.  Neal and Robbie have taken him and the others to our
camp."

"My father?"

"One of your brothers was dispatched to notify him that you are
safe."

Safe.  She repeated the word several times in her mind to reassure
herself.  Then, as if a great weight had been lifted from her, she
released a long sigh and let go of the terrible tension that had held
her in its grips for the past hours.

Jamie's gaze trailed to the bruises on her flesh.  A string of curses
rose to his throat before he swallowed them back.

Quickly he stood and forced himself to walk to the fire.

"I have made some broth, my lady."

He returned to her side.  Keeping his tone as gentle as possible he
said, "You need to restore your strength, Lindsey.  Drink."

She accepted the tankard from his hand.  As she drank, she felt the
warmth returning, and her spirits seemed restored.

She glanced down at her raw, torn hands, covered with strips of moist
cloth.

"What is this?"

"A balm for your wounds."

"Where did you learn the art of healing?"

"I was man-at-arms to Lady Megan MacAlpin.  She is well versed in the
art of healing."

Lindsey heard the note of affection in his tone and experienced an
immediate twinge of feeling that startled her.

Jealousy?  Impossible.  She cared not how many beautiful women this
Highlander had known.

Lady Megan.  Jamie thought about their brief reunion at Brice
Campbell's fortress.  Megan and her Irish husband had presented for his
admiration their first-born son, Sean.  The happy couple seemed
content.  Content. The thought made him smile.  It had been a
discontented Megan who had warned that she would never give her
heart.

Yet there she was, happily married and a proud mother.

In many ways, the lady was much like Megan, wild, headstrong, well
versed in the art of weapons and battle, yet uncomfortable with
feminine wiles.  But there the similarity ended.  Megan had never known
fear.  While Lindsey, though fearless in battle, seemed troubled by
very real fears that, though buried deeply, surfaced when she slept.

"Drink it.  All of it," Jamie commanded, walking closer.  Though it was
not in her nature to accept such terse commands, especially from one
such as Jamie MacDonald, Lindsey found herself obeying.  When the
tankard was empty, Jamie gave a satisfied nod.

"There is fresh venison when you feel strong enough to eat."

He started to turn away.  Instantly she caught his sleeve.

"Where do you go?"

He saw the fear leap into her eyes and said soothingly, "I merely
intended to throw another log on the fire.  I will not leave you, my
lady."

"You may leave if you please.  I am not afraid to be alone."

He saw the way sh lifted her chin.  With a half smile, he turned
away.

He could feel her gaze burning into him as he walked to the fire.  When
he had fed the flames, he brushed his hands on his breeches and
returned to her.

"You should rest now, my lady."  He knelt beside her and drew the cloak
around her to ward off the chill.

"There is much healing power in sleep."

She placed her hand over his to still his movements.

"I do not ask you to stay, Jamie MacDonald.  If duty calls you, or if
you would return to my father's camp, I will rest easily alone."  He
felt a rush of heat at her touch and fought to ignore it.  The lass did
not know what her simplest touch did to him.

"Nay, my lady.  I gave my word that I would stay with you.  We will
return to camp together when you are strong enough to ride."

He sat down, with his back resting against the trunk of a gnarled tree,
taking great pains to see that he was not touching her.

"Sleep now.  I will keep watch."

Her lids fluttered and without any further coaxing, she drifted into
sleep.

Beside her, Jamie felt a sudden quickening of his pulse.  As he watched
her, he thought about the women he had met at the court of Queen Mary
in Edinburgh.  From their earliest years they had been made aware of
the many ways to please a man.  Their dress, their manner of speech,
their flirtatious behavior left no doubt as to their intentions.  Yet
not one of them had ever aroused him like this artless innocent.  There
was a tenacious ness about her that touched something deep inside
him.

Jamie felt a sting of annoyance at the way his thoughts continued to
center around the female.  He had no fight to such thoughts.  He was a
man on a mission.  And that mission did not include indulging his own
pleasures.  With a muffled oath he turned away and closed his eyes,
determined to blot out all thought.

Lindsey awoke to a heaviness against her arm.  Her cloak was pinned
firmly to her side, preventing her from rolling over.  Turning her
head, she saw Jamie dozing beside her.  She felt a rush of anguish as
her thoughts tumbled around.  She remembered crying out, struggling as
strong arms embraced her.  In her fearful state she had relived her
worst nightmare.  This was not the first time she had battled these
fears.

But the attack by Argus had brought on a new round of suffering.

With a flood of embarrassment she realized that she may have revealed
her most intimate secrets to this stranger.  And then a new thought
intruded as images flooded her mind.  She had fought him.  Fought like
one possessed.  And he had held her with great tenderness as he sought
to com fort her.

How foolish she must have seemed to one like Jamie, accustomed to a
life of danger and intrigue.  How childish.

For long minutes she lay watching him, struggling with a warring of
emotions.

A lock of shaggy hair fell across his forehead.  It was oddly
appealing, and she found herself wanting to brush it aside.  She
watched the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest and found her own
breathing growing rapid.  She studied the way his lashes cast dark
shadows across his craggy cheeks.

Suddenly his eyes opened and she found herself staring into those
fathomless depths that always seemed to carry a hint of danger.

"So, my lady.  Do you feel rested?"

"Aye."  She felt the heat stain her cheeks and was grateful that the
canopy of trees shielded the late-afternoon sun from his eyes.  She did
not want to be caught staring at this man from such close quarters. 
Nor did she want him to see the remnants of pain she suffered.

"Do you feel well enough to travel?"

"Aye."  She paused'a moment to swallow.

"You must think me a whimpering child, my lord.  Forgive me for my
rantings while I slept.  I am not usually so foolish."

"Foolish?"  Seeing the color that flooded her cheeks as she turned away
from him, he touched a hand to her shoulder.

Her tone had a husky quality to it.

"I know now it was you who held me while I fought and behaved in a most
uncivilized manner."

"Lindsey."  He turned her, forcing her to meet his dark gaze.

"What you experienced at the hands of the highway men would have
shocked the sensibilities of any woman.  I can see, from the cuts on
your hands and from the bruises you sustained, how bravely you
struggled against your captors.  You need make no apology, my lady."
His tone softened until his words were barely more than a whisper.

"Even now, when I think of that man soiling you, my blood runs hot with
the need for vengeance."

His touch, his words, were so tender, she found herself responding
despite the lingering dread.

"I thought I could escape him," she whispered.

"In fact, I made it all the way to the horses before I was caught."

"Were you not bound?"

"Aye."

"Then how did you free yourself?."

"I found several stones imbedded in the earth.  In my desperation I
rubbed my hands against them until the ropes unraveled."

That would explain the torn flesh.

"And the leader?"  Jamie's eyes darkened.

"Did you see him?"

"Nay.  My eyes were covered.  He spoke only in a strange whisper."

"Then we must pray that your father's men were able to detain him when
he approached them for a ransom."

Jamie's gaze roamed her face, still warm from sleep, and came to rest
on her lips, pursed in a little pout.  Once again he felt the tug and
was forced to deny it.

With a determined effort he put some distance between himself and the
woman.  In the past hours he had battled the unsettling emotions that
plagued him as he held her and offered her comfort.  The battle had
left him far more weary than any battle with sword and dirk.

"I will prepare a meal for you."

"I have no hunger," she protested.

"You will eat," he said firmly.

"And then we will leave for your father's camp."

Lindsey watched as Jamie strode to the fire and cut strips of
venison.

With food and drink her strength returned, making her eager to take to
the trail once more.  She glanced at the man who ate quickly, then
prepared their horses for the long trek.  He had fought her attacker,
prepared a soothing balm for her wounds and skinned and cooked a deer
for their food.  Was there anything this mysterious man could not do?

When he returned he held out his hand.

"Can you stand, my lady?"

"Aye."  Lindsey accepted his help and got slowly to her feet.  For a
moment she swayed, and instantly Jamie's arms were around her,
steadying her.

They both felt the jolt, and fought to deny it.

"I think, perhaps you need another day to regain your strength."

"Nay."  She pushed away from him and forced herself to walk slowly
toward her horse.  With each step she felt her confidence grow.  But
when she tried to pull herself into the saddle, she did so only with
great effort.

He handed her the reins.  His voice was unusually gruff.

"We will ride only until dark.  Then I will decide if we will go on or
make camp."

His rough tone sounded an alarm in her mind.  She had no idea just how
much of herself she had revealed to this man during the past hours.

What if, in her fevered state, she had revealed the secret she had kept
locked all these years in her heart?  Though she never spoke about it,
her limp was a painful reminder of that terrible moment in her

youth.  A moment that was burned into her memory for all time.

She clamped her teeth.  She must never forget that this was, after all,
the man who had warned her father that she would slow them on their
journey.  And he had been proven correct.

There must be no further display of weakness.  Else this angry giant
might insist that she be returned to her home in the Highlands.  And
she would never have her chance to see the queen.

Chapter Eight

Dusk settled over the land, lengthening the shadows and carrying the
chili of night on the air.

Slumped in the saddle, Lindsey lifted her hood and drew her cloak
tightly around her to ward off the cold.

Jamie's voice came from directly behind her, startling her.

"We will stop for the night and make camp by the river."

"Nay.  I would return to my father's camp.  He will need to see me if
he is to be reassured that I am unharmed."

Jamie's tone left no room for discussion.

"A darkened wood leaves many places for a villain to hide, my lady.  We
will stop in that clearing ahead, Where I can keep watch until
light."

When they reached the place, Lindsey slid from the saddle and led her
horse to the bank of the river.  Kneeling, she scooped the water into
her hands and drank gratefully.

By the time she had' tethered her horse, Jamie had gathered enough'
logs for a fire.  Soon the air was filled with mouth-watering aromas as
meat sizzled and snapped over the fire.

"I see that a soldier in service to the queen learns to do many things
for himself."

"Aye.  If he desires a full stomach and a dry bed."

"Then I think perhaps my brothers should consider sol- dieting, for
they have learned to do little for themselves.  They expect the
servants to see to their needs."

"Your brothers were most apt pupils, my lady, when they knew your life
was at stake."

"I am glad.  Though I regret that I put them through such fear."

Lindsey's smile faded.  She grew silent.

Jamie and Lindsey reclined on opposite sides of the fire, eating their
fill.

From the corner of her eye Lindsey saw a slight movement in the woods.
Her hand went to her dirk at her waist.  But her look of alarm became a
smile of surprise when she spotted the hound watching her.

Tearing off a strip of meat, she tossed it some distance away, then
turned her attention to her own meal.  Within a few minutes she became
aware that the animal was stalking closer.  When Wolf snatched up the
meat, she threw a second piece.  Again the hound crept close and took
the meat.

Lindsey found herself admiring the great, shaggy beast.  His coat,
though tangled, was sleek and glossy.  His wary eyes gleamed with a
look of danger.  There was a nobility in this wild creature that oddly
touched her, reminding her of the man who sat across from her.

She tossed a third scrap, closer this time, and was saddened when the
hound darted away, melting into the shadows of the forest.  All further
attempts to draw him out of hiding were fruitless.

Jamie watched in silence.  When at last he spoke there was a trace of a
smile in his tone.

"I warn you.  Wolf has no need of humans."

"But he took the meat I offered him."

"Aye.  So long as it was free.  But when you set the price too high, he
refused."

"What price?"

"The price of his freedom.  Do not think to pet him and tame him, my
lady, in exchange for a little food.  He can catch all the game he
needs in these forests.  Like all the Highland creatures, he prefers to
remain wild and free."

Aye, wild and free.  Again she was reminded of the Heartless
MacDonald.

"But do not even the wild creatures crave affection and
companionship?"

Jamie glanced at her over the rim of his tankard.

"Perhaps But not all creatures find what they crave."

Lindsey was silent for long moments before asking, "How can he be wild
if he follows you across this land?"

Jamie's tone was pensive.

"I was kind to him.  He does not forget that.

But he knows he can retain his freedom.  I ask nothing of him.  "

"Nor will I," she said solemnly.

Jamie noted with a smile that she nevertheless scattered the remains of
her dinner in the grass before roiling herself into her cloak.

Within minutes she was asleep.

Jamie drew his cloak around him and leaned his back against the trunk
of a tree.  The night would be long, for he intended to allow himself
little sleep.  But waking or sleeping he knew his thoughts would be of
the woman who shared his camp.

As was his custom, Jamie woke 9uickly before the dawn light had even
streaked the eastern sky.  He lay very still, allowing his gaze to scan
the camp.  The first thing to arrest his attention was the lass, asleep
on the far side of the fire.  Though her sleep had been disturbed
several times during the night by the demons that plagued her, she was
now sleeping peacefully.  That fact brought him a measure of comfort.

He was surprised to see the hound lying nearby.  And even more
surprised to note that the animal was not asleep.  Though Wolf's head
rested on his paws, his ears were at tuned to the sounds of the forest;
his eyes stared warily into the distance.

Jamie gave a low chuckle.  Wolf, having sensed that Jamie was asleep,
had assumed the role Of Lindsey's protector Now the animal, sensing
something amiss, turned its head and stared fully at Jamie.  Then,
without a backward glance, Wolf sauntered across the clearing and
slipped into the forest.  As if, Jamie thought with a smile, the
creature had decided that Lindsey was now safely delivered into
another's keeping.

The slight rustling awoke Lindsey.  She sat up, for the moment
disoriented, and Jamie saw the trace of fear in her eyes until she
caught sight of him.

"Are you rested, my lady?"

"Aye."

Lindsey discreetly gathered the remnants of her torn bodice together.

She turned her gaze toward the inviting waters of the river.

He stood abruptly.

"The horses need time to forage be fore we begin the journey to your
father's camp.  I will leave you alone, my lady."

To give her some privacy, he led the horses some distance away.  But
though he busied himself with mundane chores, his gaze strayed often to
the river, bathed with the golden glow of morning sun.

Alone, Lindsey removed her clothes and examined her torn and muddied
gown.  With great care she washed her garments until the stains had
been removed, then spread them on low branches to dry.

She took several tentative steps into the river.  The cool water felt
wonderful against her flesh.  She rubbed vigorously at the blood that
caked her skin, eager-to remove all traces of her ordeal.  As she moved
deeper into the river, the water lapped at her breasts.  With a little
sigh she plunged beneath the waves and came up sputtering and laughing.
How wonderful it felt to be cool and clean and free of all restraint.
With strong strokes she swam the width of the river and back.

A trill of feminine laughter echoed on the breeze.  Distracted Jamie
turned toward the river.  The sight that greeted him nearly took his
breath away.  Lindsey moved slowly through the shallows toward shore. 
A halo of golden light seemed to surround her.  She was a shimmering,
ethereal figure.  Her hair, gleaming red and gold in the morning light,
fanned out around her like a glistening veil.  Her skin was as pale as
the ghostly mists that danced across the lochs in the Highlands.

He knew he should turn away, for she trusted him to grant her the
privacy she desired.  But he could not.  With a tightness in his throat
he studied her as she stepped lightly from the water.  He drank in the
sight of high, firm breasts, tiny waist, softly rounded hips.  She was
perfection.  And the sight of her left him shaken.

He watched as she slipped on her delicate chemise.  As she tied the
ribbons that held it, he found that his hands were curled into fists at
his sides.  The thought of untying those ribbons, of removing the lacy
bit of fabric from her, had his pulse racing.

She slipped white, frothy petticoats over her head and smoothed them
down over her hips, and again he was swept by a stab of desire so raw,
so swift, it left him trembling.  If he were less a man, he would give
in to the need to go to her.  But his nobler virtue would hot permit
it. She was Douglas Gordon's virginal daughter.  He would return her as
he had found her.

She lifted her gown from its place in the sun and suddenly knelt in the
grass, examining it closely.  With his hands firmly clenched by his
sides, Jamie forced himself to turn away.  He would go below stream and
take a plunge in the cool river.  Hopefully the cooling water would
have the desired effect.

Lindsey examined her gown.  Though much of the blood had been washed
away, there was no way to mend the torn and tattered bodice.  She knew
that the sight of it would cause her father much grief.  But there was
nothing to be done about it.  She had neither needle nor thread.  She
would simply have to hide inside her cloak until she could exchange
this gown for one in her trunks.

Pulling the gown over her head, she smoothed it down and gathered the
torn bodice into a semblance of modesty.  Over this she pulled on her
cloak.

There was nothing to be done with the tangles in her hair.  Running her
fingers through the damp strands, she tossed her head, sending her hair
cascading in waves down her back.

When Lindsey returned to the fire, Jamie had prepared a hot meal.  He
looked up and noted that the color was back in her cheeks.  Her limp
was much less pronounced, and her cloak was draped modestly around
her.

All her precautions, he realized, were for naught.  He would never be
able to forget the sight of her as she emerged from the river.  The
body she kept so cleverly concealed from his sight was already clearly
imprinted on his mind.  An image that would torment him forever more.

Lindsey noted the beads of moisture that glinted in Jamie's hair.  As
he handed her a tankard, she inhaled the clean, fresh scent of river
water.

For the first few moments they broke their fast in awkward silence.  It
was Jamie who finally spoke.

"Your father will be much concerned."

"Aye."  Lindsey kept her gaze averted, trying not to stare at the wide
expanse of Jamie's shoulders.

"If we do not return soon, he will no doubt send riders to fetch us."

"Aye."  She glanced up, then, seeing his gaze fully upon her, lowered
her gaze to the ground.

Jamie wished he had the eloquence of the orators at court.  Perhaps
then he could break through this wall that seemed to separate them
whenever they tried to make simple conversation.

"Your father is very protective of you, my lady."

He looked up to see color flood her cheeks.  By the gods, he said the
wrong thing.  He wished he could cut out his tongue.

"I did not mean" -He stopped abruptly then tried again.

"If I had someone as lovely as you depending upon me, I would be every
bit as protective."

Lindsey blushed to her toes.

Jamie tossed the contents of his tankard into the flames, feeling his
frustration grow, It was impossible to talk to this female.  He turned
away, but her words stopped him.

"Have you no one depending upon you, Jamie Mac Donald?"

He turned back.  Her eyes met his for the first time.  He knelt and
tossed a branch on the fire.

"There are many who depend upon me.  But none I can call family."

For some strange reason that eased her mind.  Not that she cared
whether or not he had a wife and hairns.  But the thought pleased
her.

Jamie MacDonald was a man alone.

"But what about Brice Campbell, the Highland Barbar ian?  Is he not
your family?"

"My foster father.  He took me in as a boy when my entire clan was
destroyed in battle."

"You, have no parents?  No brothers or sisters?"

He shook his head.

Lindsey tried to imagine what it would be like to have no one.  No
adoring father.  No brothers to tease, to laugh with, to weep over.  Sh
felt a stab of pain around her heart.  For the first time, instead of
seeing him merely as the Heart less MacDonald, she began to see Jamie
MacDonald as something far different.

"And Brice Campbell?  Has he a family of his own?"

"Aye.  A lovely wife, Meredith.  And wee hairns."  Jamie's eyes lit,
and Lindsey was amazed at how he was transformed.  His voice
softened.

"She will give him many fine sons and daughters."

"Men."  She laughed, and the sound of her laughter warmed him.

"You sound just like Donald.  He thinks every female in our village
would like to give him children."

"I do not know about men like your brother.  Perhaps," Jamie said
carefully, "he will find a woman who will make him forget all the
others."

"Now you sound like Father."

Jamie shrugged.

"I know only that Brice and Meredith were a most unlikely match."

"A pity.  I hope they managed to find a little happiness."

"You misunderstand, my lady.  Although they seemed an unlikely match,
the love they share is there in their eyes for all to see."

Jamie tossed the rest of the branch on the fire and went to fetch the
horses.  Alone, Lindsey pondered what he had just said.  Love.  What a
strange, unpredictable emotion.  Though her father and mother were from
far different clans, one warlike, the other peaceful, theirs had been a
great love.

She shook her head.  She would never understand such things.  And she
doubted she would ever have to deal with such confusing feelings.

She watched as Jamie returned, leading their horses.  He held her mount
as she pulled herself into the saddle.

"We should reach your father's camp before the sun is directly
overhead," Jamie said, leading the way.

As they moved out, a gray, shadowy figure slipped through the forest,
keeping them always in sight.

Jamie's thoughts grew dark as they neared the camp.  This band of
highwaymen was cunning.  They had probably been cheating and robbing
travelers along this route for many years.  For every villain he had
captured, there would be five more hiding in the forest.  If he were to
capture all of them, he would first have to catch their leader.  One
name sprang to mind.  Ian MacPherson.  Though Jamie had not spoken of
it to Lindsey, he was certain that MacPherson was the leader of the
band of cutthroats.  He prayed that the Highlanders in camp had been
quick enough to prevent the escape of that scheming villain when he had
come to demand a ransom.

Jamie's hands tightened on the reins.  He wanted only a few minutes
alone with MacPherson.  And the one called Argus.  Never again would
they inflict their pain on a help less woman.  And never again would
they spread fear and loathing among the people of this region.

Seeing Jamie's dark mood, Lindsey rode beside him in silence.  There
was so much about this man she did not know.  He seemed reluctant to
reveal even the smallest de tails.  His life as an orphan, or his years
spent with Brice Campbell.  Both Brice and Jamie were legends in this
country. And both men, she thought with quickening pulse, were close
friends of the queen.

Her musings were interrupted by the sharp tang of wood smoke.

Jamie touched a hand to her shoulder to warn her of approaching danger.
As they entered the forest, they could make out the shapes of men in
the distance.

At the sound of a familiar voice, Lindsey slid from her horse and broke
into a run.  The men in the camp paused in their work to look up.

One figure separated himself from the others.

"Lindsey.  Praise heaven."

At her father's words, Lindsey flew into his arms.  She was swept up in
a ferv+nt embrace as a great sigh of relief issued from deep within
him.

Her four brothers converged on her from different points around the
camp, wrapping their arms around both their father and sister.  It was
a most joyful reunion as they laughed and kissed and hugged.  Everyone
was talking at once, with no one making any sense.

When at last they had all embraced, Douglas held her a little away,
studying her through narrowed eyes.

"Are you truly unharmed, daughter?"

"Aye, Father."

From his vantage point, Jamie watched the way the lass held her cloak
firmly around her, shielding her bruised flesh from her father's
view.

"We were greatly relieved when Neal found us in the forest to tell us
that you were safe," Murray said.  He turned to Jamie with a solemn
look.

"When I first heard that my brothers left Lindsey alone with you, I was
not happy, for my sister is a sheltered maiden."

"Murray," his father said, touching a hand to his son's arm.

"I understand your fears," Jamie said quickly.

"You have every right to feel as you do about your sister.  But I
assure you that she has been returned to you as I found her."

"And I," Douglas said with fervor, "am grateful to you, Jamie
MacDonald, for leading my sons to the villains' camp.  I would entrust
my daughter to your care at any time."

Jamie accepted the man's outstretched hand and grasped it firmly.

"I

know how you suffered at the loss of your daughter, Douglas.  I am
grateful that we arrived in time to save her.  " He glanced around.

"Where are the prisoners?"

"They escaped."

Jamie's eyes narrowed.

"All of them?  How could this happen?"

"We woke this morrow to find them gone.  The guards we had posted were
all dead, their throats slit."

Jamie's countenance grew dark with fury.

"How many men have we lost?"

"Six," Douglas said.

"Six men."  Jamie grew silent for a moment, then said sternly, "And
their leader?  Were you able to capture him when he came demanding the
ransom for Lindsey's safe return?"

"He never showed himself," Douglas Gordon replied.

"He never came?  But how could this be?"

The old man shrugged.

"Something must have happened to change his plans."

"Aye.  But we will continue to watch for him," said a voice behind For
a moment Jamie stood frozen to the spot.  He refused to turn.  He knew
that voice.  Knew the face he would see.

Fury churned within him, making his blood boil.  How could this man
stand among them, feigning innocence?

Carefully schooling his features, Jamie turned slowly and found himself
face-to-face with Ian MacPherson.

Chapter Nine

Ignoring Jamie's look of fury, Ian strode forward and caught Lindsey's
hand, bringing it to his lips.

"I regret that I was too late to save you myself, my lady."

"Too late?"  Jamie's eyes narrowed with sudden fury.

"Aye," Douglas interjected.

"Robbie and Neal met Ian on the journey back to camp.  It seems Ian had
been searching all the night for our Lindsey.  In fact, he saw the men
who captured her."

"Did you now?  And you never sounded an alarm?"  Jamie's hands clenched
and unclenched at his sides.

"I had hoped to take them by surprise."  Ian tore his gaze from Lindsey
long enough to reply.

"As I explained to Douglas and his sons, I was intent upon securing the
lady's freedom quickly and easily.  When I saw the horses disappearing
into the forest, I took up my sword and followed as swiftly as
possible."

"You could have been killed," Lindsey protested.

"You had no way of knowing there were only two of them."

"Two or two score and ten, it mattered not, my lady.  I gave no thought
to my own safety.  My only thought was that I must save you from those
villains."

"A single shout would have awakened the entire camp and alerted all to
Lindsey's peril."  Jamie took a menacing step closer, his hands curled
into fists.

"It would have been a simple matter for our entire company to overpower
her abductors."

"Alas," Ian said, shrugging his shoulders, "I realize now that I was
misguided.  But my mind was clouded by the danger to the lady.  My only
thought was to stop the villains and save the lady Lindsey."

"If, as you said, you were close on their trail, how did you not locate
them before we did?"  Jamie demanded.

"I must have lost them when they crossed the river.  I hid myself until
they disappeared into the forest.  But when I tried to follow, I became
lost in a maze of trails."

"Odd," Jamie mused aloud, "that we were able to find them, even though
We were far behind you.  And even stranger that we did not come upon
you in the forest."

Ian turned, ignoring Jamie's taunts, to give Lindsey a brilliant
smile.

"Aye.  But at least we are all safely together now."

Jamie glanced from Douglas to his sons in disbelief.  Surely they did
not accept this story as truth.  Were they all blind?  Or worse,
addled?

"I do not believe you."  Jamie's words were spoken in dangerously icy
tones.

Everyone in the camp went silent.  Murray and Donald exchanged knowing
looks.  Neal and Robbie appeared nervous and agitated, glancing quickly
toward their father for guidance.

Lindsey's eyes went wide.  Stepping close to Jamie she reached out a
hand to" him, as if to silence his words, but he fixed her with a cold
look, causing her to pull her hand away.

"Do you call me a liar?"  Ian's gaze darted from Jamie to Lindsey, then
back to Jamie.

"Aye."  Jamie touched a hand to the sword at his waist.

"Step away, Lindsey," he commanded softly.

"Nay.  You must not do this, Jamie."  She cast a pleading look in her
father's direction.

Seeing the fire in Jamie's eyes, Douglas moved quickly to diffuse his
anger.

"I understand your mistrust, Jamie.  We voiced the same questions as
you.  But Ian has put all our fears to rest.  He carries a-missive from
the queen, attesting that he journeys to Holyrood at her bidding.
Surely one who has the trust of our queen must have our trust as
well."

Jamie's gaze never left kin's face.

"I would read this missive."

With a smug look Ian reached into his tunic and withdrew a rolled
parchment.  Handing it to Jamie he said with a sneer, "I hope the
Heartless MacDonald can read."

Jamie unrolled the parchment and studied the words, then carefully
scrutinized the queen's seal.  He handed it back without a word.

Ian's voice was a low challenge.

"I await your apology."

Jamie fixed him with a chilling look.

"You will receive my apology only when we reach Holyrood and hear this
from the queen's own lips."

Everyone in camp seemed shocked.

"You would question the queen's seal upon this missive?"

"Nay, only the manner in which you acquired this parchment."  Jamie
deliberately turned his back on Ian MacPherson and said to Douglas
Gordon, "We take our leave of this place within the hour, my lord.

Prepare your men to ride.  "

The old man glanced at his daughter and thought sadly about the joyful
reunion he had planned.

"I had hoped we could take a day to rest and feast my daughter's safe
return before resuming our journey.  She has been through so much."

Jamie's lingering anger caused his words to be harsher than he
intended.

"And our queen has been through much more.

"Twas your decision to bring the female along on this dangerous
mission, my lord.  Our queen has need of us.  We have tarried long
enough."

Seeing the remorse on her father's face, Lindsey stepped between the
old man and Jamie.  The look she shot Jamie was filled with fury.  To
her father she murmured, "Do not fret.  I am well rested and strong
enough to ride."  She turned to include Jamie as she muttered, "And,
like my lord MacDonald, I am most eager to leave this place."

Giving him one last furious look, Lindsey hurried away to change her
gown and prepare for the journey looming before them.

Douglas watched as Jamie's gaze followed his daughter.  Then he turned
and gave the order to his men that they should prepare to ride.

Jamie drove their small band unmercifully.  For the next two days they
were up at dawn and riding hard until dusk.  Four men took turns
watching the camp each night while the others slept.  Jamie refused to
allow Ian to join those who watched.  He made no secret of his intense
distrust of the man.

At night, as they sat around the fire, Jamie kept to him self.  While
the others spoke in muted tones, he mended harness" tended to his horse
or sharpened his weapons.

Often, as he worked, he watched Ian MacPherson seated by the fire,
regaling the young Neal and Robbie with stories of his adventures.  The
young, impressionable lads hung on every word spoken by' the man who
carried a missive from their queen.  In their eyes he had become an
adventurer, a hero.

When Lindsey joined the group around Ian, Jamie found himself honing
the blade of his sword with a vengeance, until it was razor sharp.  The
lilt of Lindsey's laughter seemed to mock him.  The husky sound of her
voice on the night air only added to his misery.  All in their companyl
it would seem, had taken Ian MacPherson to their bosom.

With a sense of sadness Lindsey watched Jamie as he drove himself and
the others.  During the day he led them silently through the
treacherous Highlands, watching al ways for any sign of the band of
villains that had escaped.  When they made camp he worked long into the
night, until the others were asleep.  Often, before dawn, he was
joining the men who guarded their camp.

Did he never rest?  Worse, did he never question his righteous
attitude? Even though she harbored similar questions about Ian
MacPherson, Lindsey was willing to wait until they reached Holyrood to
make a judgment.  But Jamie's mind had already hardened against the
stranger. And once his decision had been made, he refused to back
down.

She missed Jamie, she realized with a shock.  Though their
conversations had often been stilted and awkward, they had, in their
short time together, begun to enjoy and respect each other's company.

As she listened to yet an other of Ian MacPherson's flamboyant stories,
she experienced a deep yearning for Jamie's calm tones and quiet
humility.  She found Ian's boastful stories tiresome.  What ever titles
and honors had been bestowed upon the Heart less MacDonald, they had
truly been won upon the battle field.  The rumors that abounded about
him were spread by " men who feared or respected him, and not by his
own inflated sense of pride.

She studied Jamie's shadowy silhouette, nearly swallowed up by the dark
shape of trees around him.  Getting to her feet she left the fire and
made her way to where he worked over his horse's swollen hoof.

He looked up as she drew near, then lowered his head and continued
working as though she did not exist.

He had stripped off his tunic and shirt and the muscles of his arms and
shoulders rippled as he bent to his task.  Despite the coolness of the
evening, sweat beaded his brow.

A lock of hair had fallen across his forehead, and Lindsey had to fight
the urge to brush it away.

"It is late to be working."

"Aye."  He did not bother to glance up.

"But the work never ends."

She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and studied him.

"So it would seem."

He leaned in to the horse, lifting its hoof as he applied a poultice.

Lindsey studied Jamie's muscled thigh, straining against the fabric of
his breeches.  Suddenly her throat went dry and she was forced to
swallow.  Before she could think she blurted, "You avoid my family."

"Nay, my lady."  He lowered the horse's leg, then wiped his hands on
his breeches before glancing at her, "This has naught to do with you or
your family."

"Ian MacPherson then.  You avoid us because of Ian."

"Aye."  He turned and began walking toward a small stream that
glistened in the moonlight.  On the banks he knelt and plunged his arms
into the cool water.  Following several steps behind, Lindsey watched
as he splashed water over his face and chest.

"Can you not wait until we reach Edinburgh to judge him?  Or does the
Heartless MacDonald not even heed the word of his queen?"

Pressing a square of linen to his face, he dried himself.  Lindsey
stared in fascination as he ran the linen over his chest and arms.

"I am more than Willing to offer my hand to Ian MacPherson, should the
queen declare him to be what he claims.  If, however, he is the liar I
think him to be, it will not be my hand but my sword he faces."

"Do you really believe that one of my abductors would return to my
father's camp and risk his wrath?"

Jamie crushed the linen as his hand formed a tight fist.

His eyes blazed for a moment before he said quietly, "Your question is
not worthy of a reply."

Lindsey felt her temper growing.  With her hands on her hips she
taunted, "What must it feel like to be so perfect?"

He ignored her taunt and turned away.  As he began to walk she
followed, feeling her anger begin to spill over.

"Why can you not admit that you may be wrong?"

He spun around so quickly she nearly collided with him.  Before she
could take a step back he caught her roughly by the arms and dragged
her even closer.

"Woman," he snarled, his eyes narrowed in anger, "you sorely try my
patience."  "Patience?"  She tossed her head, as if to defy him.

"I have seen no trace of this virtue you claim, my lord."

"Nor will you, if you continue on this dangerous course you have
set."

For a moment his hands tightened on her arms and she felt a tiny thread
of fear course along her spine.  For long minutes he stared into her
eyes.  She refused to blink or look away.  Abruptly he released her and
turned on his heel.

Lindsey had no idea what drove her to behave in such a foolish
manner.

But now that her temper had been aroused, she seemed unable to back
away.  Once again she flounced behind him, her biting words mocking
him.

"I see that you do not intend to admit that you could be wrong.  Is
this why some men claim the Heartless Mac Donald is never defeated?  He
merely insists that his way is the right way?"

She saw his hands clench at his sides as he continued on his way.  Her
words had obviously found their mark.  Flushed with victory she stalked
him as they passed through a stand of trees that blocked the light of
the moon and stars.

"So.  The mighty warrior now is reduced to threatening women if they
dare to vex him.  Is this how you earned your name?"

"Damn you, woman."

She did not even see him as he spun around and caught her arms in a
painful grasp.  His breath was hot against her cheek.

"I am sick to death of that name."

"It suits you.  The Heartless MacDonald."

His voice was a low whisper of fury as he took both her hands and
pressed them to his chest, She felt the sudden jolt and tried to pull
away, but he held her fast.

"Can you feel the pounding of my heart?"

Her voice was little more than a strangled whisper.

"Aye.  I can."

"Is it less a heart than that of other men?"

She swallowed.

"Nay."

"Then you admit I am not heartless, my lady?"

Her palms were damp where they touched his chest.  His mat of hair was
soft and springy against her flesh.  Aye, he was far from heartless.

His heartbeat was every bit as thunderous as hers.

When she did not reply, he ran his thumbs across her palms, splaying
her fingers wide across his ribs.

His voice was still rough with barely controlled anger.

"It is a heart that bleeds, my lady."  His voice lowered.

"And yearns often for that which it can never have."

She stared into eyes that were shrouded in mystery.  The intense anger
in him was evident.  But there were deeper, darker passions that he
seemed loath to reveal.  Passions that terrified her, yet intrigued
her.

She saw his gaze center on her mouth as his hands slowly moved along
her arms.  When she attempted to pull away, his strong fingers cloed
over her upper arms, holding her firmly against him.

"What is it you fear, my lady?  Did you not, after all, come out here
to spar with me?  Where are your taunts and arguments now?"

She ran a tongue over her lips.  He watched the movement through
narrowed eyes.

"I----came out here to---persuade you to join our company when your
tasks were completed."

A hint of a smile touched his lips.

"That is all you wanted?"

He was laughing at her.  Her fear of him dissolved as her temper took
over.

"Aye.  But I can see that I have made a blunder.  You are much more
suited to being alone."

As she tried to push away his fingers tightened on her upper arms,
causing her to gasp.

"Aye.  I have been alone too long.  Perhaps that is why even an angry
wildcat can tempt me."

Wildcat.  The gibe hit its mark.

"I am not some wild creature.  Nor did I come here to tempt you."

"Nay.  You prefer to goad me into a fight.  But fighting with women has
never whetted my appetite."  He drew her fractionally closer and his
tone deepened.

"Women were made to be kissed."

He lowered his head until his lips barely brushed hers.  He felt her
flinch and thrilled to his first victory.

Against her lips he murmured, "Slowly and thoroughly and with great
care."

With her palms against his chest she pushed with all her might, but she
was no match for his strength and determination.

His arms came around her, pinning her to the length of him.  His mouth
closed over hers in a hot, hungry kiss.

Splinters of fire and ice danced along Lindsey's spine.  She trembled
as a chill swept her.  She was cold.  So cold.  Of their own volition
her hands crept along his chest, pressed over his heart.  And then, as
he lingered over her lips, the chill became a wave of heat and she was
hot.  Liquid heat poured through her, filling her veins with molten
fire.  She gave a little moan as her hands gripped his shoulders.  And
as he took the kiss deeper, she was forced to hold on, lest her legs
fail to support her.

She felt his strong hands press into her lower back, drawing her close
against him.  Heat seemed to pour from his naked torso, heating her,
tormenting her.

Against her lips he muttered, "What?  Have you no words left to hurl,
my lady?"

She moaned as his lips left hers to roam the curve of her cheek, the
arch of her brow.  He pressed his mouth to a tangle of hair at her
temple and could feel the furious beating of her pulse.

He had meant only to silence her voice, to still the taunts that fueled
his anger.  But from the first moment his lips covered hers, he was
lost.  Reason fled.  And in its place was a burning, desperate need.

He had known passion before.  And desire.  But never before had he
known such wild, pulsing needs.  He was driven to take her higher, then
higher still, even though he sensed that she had never dealt with such
emotions before.  He wanted more than to silence her.  He wanted her
weak and clinging.  His lips moved slowly over her face, feeling her
breath straining in her lungs.  His lips found hers, and this time she
offered no resistance.  Aye.  This was how he wanted her.  Warm and
willing.  But as he took the kiss deeper, he wanted more.  He wanted
all.

He wanted her naked and desperate.  As desperate as he.  He wanted to
take all she had to give.  To drain her; to fill her.  To make her
his.

Lindsey trembled in his arms and struggled with feelings she had never
known.  Always before she had been afraid.  Afraid of a man's touch,
his kiss.  Until this moment, she had always fought and won.  But with
this man, the wish to fight had suddenly left her.  In its place was a
need to taste him, to touch him, to feel him, until she was desperate
to crawl inside his skin.  What had this man done to her?  How had he
bewitched her that she had surrendered with hardly a whimper?

Dazed, Jamie struggled to clear his mind.  He knew he had taken her too
far.  But his mind was befuddled.  Her words, her taunts had blinded
him to all reason.

He kissed her again, tasting the wild, sweet taste that was like no
other woman.  He wanted her.  God in heaven, he wanted to take her
here, now.

The forest closed around them, enveloping them in a cocoon of velvet
darkness.  The only sounds were the rippling waters of the stream, the
call of the night birds and the occasional laughter from the distant
campfire.  Even the stars in the heavens were curtained off by the
towering spires of evergreen.  They were alone, and no one would ever
be the wiser.

Jamie knew he would have to be strong enough to walk away.  And still
he lingered, wanting one more taste, one more kiss.

When at last he lifted his lips from hers, Lindsey stood very still,
fighting the tremors that rocked her.

Very deliberately Jamie took a step back, then another.  The need for
her still pulsed.  The desire to take her still tugged at him.

"Consider this a warning, my lady.  It would seem I have found the
ideal way to silence your taunts."

"It is as I already knew, Jamie MacDonald."  She turned away and prayed
she would not stumble.

"You have revealed yourself as the bully I thought you to be."

On trembling legs she made her way to camp.  As she rolled herself into
her cloak, she struggled with a rush of troubling feelings.  How had
she gone from battle to surrender in the blink of an eye?  What magic
did this man use?

Under the cover of darkness Jamie pulled on his shirt and tunic and
thought about what had happened.  Damn the woman.  How was he going to
continue avoiding her, when the need for her was becoming an
obsession?

Chapter Ten

The sun was barely up when Jamie signaled that they should break camp
for another day.  This morning he seemed even more abrupt than usual.

He carefully avoided Lindsey and he spoke only when necessary as he'
went about his chores.  When he saw Ian helping Lindsey into her
saddle, he turned away so quickly he nearly jostled Douglas Gordon, who
was standing beside him.

The older man watched as Jamie pulled himself into the saddle and set
out at a fast clip.  He did not know what had transpired between Jamie
MacDonald and his daughter last night, but he had seen the fire in her
eyes as she had exited the circle of firelight.

Douglas smiled to himself.  He had often sampled his daughter's temper
through the years.  She could lay a man flat with but a few well-chosen
words.  Still, he wondered if even Lindsey could get the better of
Jamie MacDonald.  The man had fire enodgh for a dozen men.  And his
temper had been building for many miles.

As he mounted, Douglas swallowed a chuckle.  He would have enjoyed
seeing his daughter spar with the Heartless MacDonald.  Aye.  He would
have enjoyed it immensely.  The two were evenly matched.  Still, there
seemed some thing more than anger between them.  He had seen it several
times; in the way the lad watched her when she talked and laughed with
her brothers; in the way she studied Jamie when she thought no one was
looking.  Lindsey's gaze followed Jamie's mount as it disappeared into
the forest mist, her eyes narrowed in thought.  There was a softness
around her mouth.  Aye.  There was indeed something more than anger
between them.

With a few sharp words, the old man sent their company racing to catch
up with the fast pace set by their leader.  In a weary gesture he
pressed i hand to his back.  He would be grateful when they reached
their goal.  The years were beginning to take their toll.

It was nearly dusk when their weary party rode through the spotless
streets of Edinburgh.  Lindsey and her brothers swiveled their heads,
craning their necks to drink in all the strange new sights and sounds,
So many people and animals crowded together on the streets.  So many
lovely buildings, towering one above the other.

Vendors in wagons and carts clattered along the wide, clean streets, on
their way home from Lawnmarket.  In Market Cross the crowds were
thinner, as men and women hurried home to prepare their supper, The
crowds were dressed somberly, befitting the mood of the city since the
advent of the austere churchman, John Knox.  Some said he held more
power with the people than the queen.  It was no secret that Knox
despised the woman who wore the crown, branding her a harlot.

Their silent party rode past the grand houses and gardens of Canongate.
Towering above the rooftops of the great stone houses were the towers
and battlements of Holy- rood house the stone fortress that was home to
the queen.

Lindsey glanced at her youngest brother, Neal.  He fairly twitched with
anticipation.  As did Robbie, whose face was wreathed with smiles.

Murray looked stunned by the assault of sound and color, Donald bemused
by the sight of dozens of young women in every manner of dress. 
Lindsey shared the emotions of all her brothers.  This world was so new
and wonderful.  And soon they would be in the presence of the queen.

Jamie drew to a halt before a comfortable inn and handed his reins to a
waiting groom.

"It is too late this night to present ourselves at Holy- rood," he said
wearily.

"I will secure rooms for us here until the morrow."

Lindsey felt a wave of regret.  She had waited so long.  Another night
would seem like an eternity.

Following the innkeeper, she watched as her father and brothers were
given a large suite of rooms on the second floor.  Across the hall a
cluster of rooms was assigned to the men who accompanied them.

Lindsey's feeling of regret deepened.  Being the only woman in their
party, she would most probably be assigned to an upper floor,
sequestered from the others for her own protection.

From his position beside her, Jamie swallowed his smile.  Lindsey's
every mood was easy to read.  The lass's emotions were evident on her
face.  It was clear that she was expecting nothing more than a
cheerless room with a hard bed and a pitcher of cold water.

Wearily Lindsey followed Jamie and the innkeeper down a long hall and
halted in front of afiother suite of rooms.  Once inside, her regret
turned to pleasure.  In the sleeping chamber, the large feather bed was
ringed by sheer curtains.  Through the balcony windows drifted the
muted sounds of the city.  In the adjoining sitting chamber, an
inviting chaise was drawn up before a" roaring fire, and set up before
the fireplace was a tub of steaming water.  Beside the tub was a young
maidservant waiting to assist her guest.

"Is this acceptable, my lord?"  the innkeeper asked Jamie.

Jamie turned to Lindsey.

"Does it meet with your approval my lady?"

"Oh.  Aye."  Her smile grew as she realized that Jamie had thoughtfully
made these arrangements.

How could he know what it meant to her to look her best for her first
meeting with Queen Mary?  Because of Jamie's kindness, she would have a
chance to wash away the grime of their long journey.  And in the
morning, rested and renewed, she would finally be presented to the
queen, wearing her finest gown.

"When you have had a chance to refresh yourself," the innkeeper said,
"there will be a meal awaiting you below stairs, my lady."

"Thank you."  Lindsey's gaze moved beyond the inn keeper to where Jamie
stood watching her.

"Thank you very much.  You are most kind."

With a nod Jamie turned and left, followed by the inn keeper.

With a sigh of pleasure Lindsey gave herself over to the servant, who
assisted her in removing her clothes.  She sank into the perfumed water
and luxuriated in the maid's ministrations

An hour later, her hair freshly washed and arranged, and wearing a
neatly pressed gown from her trunk, she entered a small dining alcove
below stairs where her father and the others awaited her.

A fire crackled in the fireplace.  The men, goblets in hand; seemed
relaxed and cheerful to have their long journey at an end.

Jamie, who stood beside the fireplace, was deep in conversation with
Douglas Gordon.  The two glanced up as Lindsey entered.  Douglas
excused himself and crossed the room to take his daughter's hand. 
Jamie remained at the fireplace, one hand resting atop the mantel, the
other holding a goblet.  At the sight that greeted him, his hand
tightened around the stem.

Lindsey's gown was emerald satin, with a jeweled bodice that molded her
firm young breasts, then fell in soft folds to the tips of her kid
slippers.  A necklace of emeralds and diamonds adorned her throat, the
gleaming stones catching and reflecting the light of the candles.  At
her lobes were matching earrings.  Her waist-length hair was held away
from her face with jeweled combs.

This was a far cry from the lass who fought like a man and who rolled
herself into a rough cloak to sleep along the forest trails.  This
woman, Jamie knew, would put the wealthy, titled women at court to
shame.  And the peacocks who surrounded the queen would all right for
her attention.

He watched as Ian MacPherson pushed past her brothers to catch
Lindsey's hand.

"My lady.  You light this room with your radiance."  Lindsey smiled
sweetly at his compliment.  But as he bowed over her hand, she gazed
beyond him to where Jamie stood alone.  For one long moment their gazes
met and held.  He inclined his head slightly.  She felt her cheeks
redden.

As she crossed the room on her father's arm, Jamie signaled to a
serving wench, who brought him another goblet.

When Lindsey approached, he offered it.

"Ale, my lady?"

She flushed as their fingers brushed.  Lifting the goblet to her lips,
she drank and felt the warmth slowly heat her blood.  Or was it the
nearness of tllis man?  She could no longer be certain.

She had never seen him look so handsome, in deference to the
sophistication of the city, he had put away the rough garb of the
Highlander.  His shirt and tunic were tailored to fit his wide shoulder
and narrow waist.  Fine breeches molded his hips and thighs, and his
boots were of the softest leather.  His thick, shaggy hair had been
shorn and he was clean shaven, revealing fine, even teeth and a proud,
rugged countenance that held her gaze even when she wanted to turn
away.

"Let us sup," Murray grumbled.

"For too long I have been forced to eat venison and dried biscuits." 
He placed a hand on his stomach.

"Tonight I desire my fill of ale and mutton, and every manner of
sweets."

"Then you shall have it."  Jamie turned, deferring to Douglas Gordon.

"Will you lead the way, sir?"

The older man offered his arm to his daughter and the others followed
them to a table covered with fine linen and china and aglow with
candles.

Douglas sat at the head, with Lindsey at his right.  Ian MacPherson
snared the seat beside Lindsey.  Her brothers and men of their clan
scattered themselves around the table Jamie took the chair across from
Lindsey, on Douglas Gor don's left.  As he sat, he saw Ian lean close
to whisper in Lindsey's ear and berated himself for the twinge of anger
that caught him by surprise.  Jealousy?  Aye.  This time he could not
deny the feeling.  He would not allow himself to dwell upon it.  If the
lady favored Ian MacPherson, there was nothing to be done about it.

Jamie nodded to the innkeeper, who ordered the servants to begin.
Several serving wenches scurried into the room, carrying steaming trays
of food.

In no time the table and sideboard groaned under the weight of trays of
partridge, pheasant, mutton and whole fish.

As they filled their plates Neal asked Jamie, "Have you been to
Edinburgh often, my lord?"

"Often enough to know that I much prefer life in the Highlands."

Donald's head came up.

"Father said you are acquainted with the noble men and women at court."
"Aye."

A slow smile spread across Donald's face.

"Could you, perhaps, point out one or two ladies who are not spoken
for?"

"Not spoken for?"  Robbie scoffed.

"Since when has it mattered to you whether or not a female is
betrothed, or even wed?"

"Can I help it if women throw themselves at my feet?"  Donald shot
back.

"How many times have I tried to remind them of their duties to their
husbands?  Alas, they seem to forget even their solemn vows when in my
presence."

While the others groaned Ian MacPherson leaned across the table and
said in a low voice, "A man after my own heart.  Have no fear, lad.  I
will find you a willing wench."

The exchange had not been lost on Douglas, who glowered at his son.

Neal glanced at Jamie and spoke haltingly.  '"Tis not women I would
care to meet, my lord.  It is the queen's stable master."

"And why is that?"  Jamie asked.

The lad stared at the table linen, too shy to explain.

"Neal has always loved tending the horses," Lindsey said.

"Ah.  I noticed your skill during our journey here.  Yours is a natural
gift with animals."

At his unexpected compliment, Neal flushed with pleasure.

"I know Lord Menzies very well," Jamie continued.

"He takes great pride in his duties.  It would be his pleasure to show
you around the stables, since you share his love of horses.  Perhaps he
would even let you handle the queen's steed."

"I could not," Neal protested quickly.

"But it would be enough just to see Her Majesty's horse."

As Jamie continued I'd eat, he felt a growing kinship with this gentle
lad.  Neal had handled himself well on the journey, displaying skill
with both sword and steed.

When they had finished the main courses, the servants brought in trays
of puddings, brandied tarts and heavy, moist confections.

"I have died and gone to heaven," Murray said, polishing off a fourth
sweet.

"Tell me, Jamie, will the food be even better in the queen's own
castle?"

"Some of Scotland's finest cooks reside in Holyrood- house," Jamie said
with a smile.

"If you crave sweets, you will be more than satisfied."

"I cannot wait."  Murray emptied his goblet.

"When I return to the Highlands I will be as plump as a monarch."

"Beware," Donald cautioned, "lest some Highland wench mistake you for a
roasted pig and carve you up for her feast."

"That will be your fate, my lad, not mine."  Murray and the others
shared a laugh.

One serving wench circled the table filling goblets and tankards as
quickly as they were emptied.

"More ale, my lady?"  the servant asked.

"Nay.  I have had sufficient."

"More ale here," Ian demanded imperiously.

Lindsey watched as Ian held up his goblet.  Already his words were
slurred and his eyes seemed unable to focus.  Beside him, her brother
Murray followed suit.  The two men murmured together and laughed
uproariously at each other's jokes.

Lindsey swallowed her frown of disapproval.  It had indeed been a hard
journey.  They deserved to relax.  Besides,.  they would fall into
their beds after dinner, and by morning would wish they had not
celebrated quite so recently.  Especially if the queen took notice of
their discomfort.

Lindsey noted that Jamie ate and drank very little.  Throughout most of
the meal he kept his silence unless one of her brothers questioned him
directly.  Most of the conversation had been dominated by Ian, who
regaled them with tales of journeys to exotic places.  From his boasts,
it would seem that he had traveled the length and breadth of
Scotland.

Throughout their journey, he had managed to keep her brothers
spellbound with his tales.  Lately, how ever, the lads seemed far less
impressed by his boastful words.

When Douglas pushed away from the table the others followed.

"Will you stay and lift a tankard or two with us, Father Murray called
from across the room.

"Nay."  Douglas gave a wry smile.

"I am more than i grateful for a chance to sleep in a bed this night. I
intend to be well rested before I meet with our queen."

He noticed that the lads were far too excited to go directly to their
beds.

Douglas offered his arm to his daughter and they followed Jamie from
the room.  They climbed the stairs and the two men paused outside
Lindsey's door.  She kissed her father's cheek and bid an awkward
good-night to the man whose mere presence made her pulse quicken.

Jamie lifted her hand and brushed it with his lips.  A quick, intense
jolt burned a trail of fire along her arm and she prayed that her
father and Jamie did not see her trembling response.

"Rest well, Lindsey," her father murmured.

"For to morrow you shall have your fondest wish.  An introduction to
the queen."

"Aye, Father."  With a dreamy smile she entered her room.

As she leaned against the closed "door she heard her father's voice.

"You retire early, Jamie."

Jamie's voice was low, conspiratorial.

"Nay.  I will change.  to less gentlemanly attire, and repair to a
nearby tavern where I might discern the mood of the people.  Perhaps I
will hear something useful."

Lindsey heard the note of regret in her father's tone.

"Ah.  If I were a younger lad I would be right there beside you."

As their footsteps faded, Lindsey felt a sudden wave of jealousy.  How
unkind the fates that had made her a woman.

How wonderful it would be to experience the freedom men took for
granted.  How grand to walk into a tavern and order a tankard of ale.

What bliss to listen to people who had seen the queen ride through
their streets like an ordinary citizen.

As she crossed the room a young servant rose up from the chaise rubbing
her sleepy eyes.  Startled, Lindsey drew back.

"I would help you undress, my lady," the tired maid servant said.

"Thank you."

As the girl began to unbutton her gown, the merest hint of a plan began
to form in Lindsey's mind.  Never again would she have this opportunity
to visit Edinburgh.  For the rest of her life she would live a
sheltered existence in the Highlands, with only her memories of this
happy time. Why should she not, just this once, taste the freedom she
so desired?

"Have you brothers?"  Lindsey asked.

"Aye, my lady.  Two."  The wench made a little face.

"Both younger than I. Mayhap you saw my brother Cedric.  He is the
groom here at the inn.

My little brother, Edmund, helps muck the stalls.  "

"Cedric."  Lindsey recalled the young lad who had taken their horses.

He was only slightly taller than she.

"Could you bring me a pair of his breeches and a shirt?"

"My lady?"  The servant paused, her hand on the but tons, and stared at
Lindsey as if she had gone mad.

"I would pay you well."  Lindsey dug into her pocket and produced a
gold sovereign.

The coin was enough to feed the servant's family for a year.  The lass
considered for only a moment.

"Aye, my lady.  When do you need these clothes?"  "Immediately."

The girl blinked.

"I will see to it."

The maid hurried from the room and returned a short time later with
the items Lindsey had requested.  In addition to breeches and a shirt,
she had a coarse tunic and a that like those worn by workers along the
wharf.

Slipping into the clothes, Lindsey realized the value of the tunic.

Hanging loosely over her shirt, it managed to hide most of her womanly
curves.  She struggled to pull her hair into a knot.  Even with the
servant's help, it was a difficult task to conceal so much hair.  But
with the hood of the tunic pulled up and the that pulled low on her
face, she was satisfied with the results.

"Would you guess my gender?"  she asked the servant.

"Nay, my lady.  I would not have believed one as beautiful as you could
look like a common street lad."

Hearing the door to Jamie's room open, Lindsey touched a finger to her
lips.

Turning, she pressed the gold sovereign into the servant's hand.

"You must not breathe a word of this."

"Aye, my lady."  The girl's fingers curled around the treasure.

"Your secret is safe with me."

Lindsey listened until Jamie's footsteps faded.  Then, opening her door
a crack, she peered both ways before starting out.

When she reached the lower floor she could hear the sound of raucous
laughter from the dining alcove.  The front door closed behind Jamie.

Slipping quickly past the room where the others still drank, she
hurried out the front door and slipped into the shadows.  It was an
easy matter to follow the tall figure as he strode purposefully down
the nearly deserted street.

When Jamie paused at the door to a tavern Lindsey crouched in the
bushes, her heart pounding.  A moment later he stepped inside.

Lindsey approached the door of the tavern then paused with her hand on
the door.  She had never before been inside such a place.  She had no
idea what to expect.  Sudden fear gripped her at the boldness of her
deed.  She had taken no time to think this through.

What would happen to her if she were found out?  Could a woman go to
Tolbooth Prison for such an impertinent act?  And even if she were not
imprisoned, what would happen if Jamie saw through her disguise?  He
would be furious.  Worse, he would drag her back to her father and
brothers and force her to admit her deceit.  She would be humiliated.

An inner voice warned her to return to the inn before her little
charade was discovered.

As she stood there pondering her fate, a hand came up behind her and
shoved the door open.

"Come on, lad.  Tarry not when there's ale to be had," said a voice
directly behind her.

As the door opened she was pressed into a smoky room that reeked of ale
and unwashed bodies.  Clusters of men sat at scarred wooden tables,
talking and laughing among themselves.  More men gathered in a corner,
where one in their party was speaking in loud tones.

"bastard.  He told his manservant, who told the groom, who passed it on
to the scullery maid."

There was a chorus of shocked exclamations.

Lindsey's eyes went Wide as a man at a table near hers- pulled a tavern
wench onto his lap and began fondling her.  Instead of slapping him, as
Lindsey surely would have done, the wench laughed and threw her arms
around his neck.

"Here, now," one of the men in the crowd yelled.

"If you want to do that, laddie, take her to her room."

Amid a chorus of rough laughter, the girl caught his hand and led him
toward a door.

Lindsey's mouth opened in astonishment.  So this was why men chose to
drink in a place like this.  It was not merely the company of other men
they sought.  It was for the favors of the tavern wenches, as well. 
She shook off a feeling of revulsion.

"Ale, lad?"  A buxom wench sidled up beside Lindsey as she cringed in
her seat in a shadowy corner of the room.

"Aye."

Lindsey's gaze scanned the crowd until she found Jamie.  She studied
his broad back as he stood to one side of the room with a group of men.
Within minutes they were talking and laughing with him as if he was an
old friend.

She gave in to the luxury of studying Jamie MacDonald.  Even in a room
filled with men, he was a man set apart from the others.  It was true
that he was taller than most, but that alone did not distinguish him.

Nor was it the fact that he was clearly the most handsome man in the
room.  It was something indefinable.  Perhaps the way he carried
himself. He seemed so self-assured.  Or perhaps it was the note of
authority in his voice.  It was clear that he was a man accustomed to
giving orders and having them followed without question.

Lindsey tried to study the others in the tavern But her gaze was drawn
once more to Jamie.

When the tavern wench returned with a tankard, Lindsey paid her and
watched as the woman made her way to Jamie's side.  The wench whispered
in his ear and he gave her an easy smile before responding As he
followed the tavern wench from the room, Lindsey's heart sank.

Her hand tightened on the handle of the tankard until she felt her
nails bite into the flesh of her palm.

How could she have oeen such a fool?  She had believed his lie, that he
was coming here to get a sense of what was happening in the queen's
castle.  Damn the man.  He had come here to drink and bed a whore.  And
for that, he had not wanted to be saddled with her brothers and the
other men.  He had thought to keep them all ignorant of his true
intentions.

Tears blurred her vision and she wiped them savagely with the back of
her hand.  She would not cry over the Heartless MacDonald.  He was not
worthy of her tears.  A string of oaths crept unbidden to her mind. 
She swallowed them back.

She glanced around, eager to be rid of this place.  Just behind her was
a door.  She hoped it would lead to fresh air.  Blindly she slammed
down her tankard and stumbled from the room.

Outside the door she found herself in a darkened hallway leading to
several rooms.  At the far end was a stairway leading to the upper
floors of the tavern

As she passed a closed door she heard a man's voice raised in anger.  A
woman's shrill voice responded.  She hurried on.  But before she could
slip past the next door, Lindsey recognized Jamie's voice and came to a
sudden halt.  Against her better judgment Lindsey bent, pressing her
ear to the door.

A woman's voice, soft, muted, was saying, "She cannot remain."

Jamie's words were muffled.

"Tell her I am arrived.  She will no longer be alone in this."

Lindsey heard the thread of near hysteria in the woman's tone.

"Nay, my lord.  It is too late.  She bid me prepare her for a journey
this night.  She will tarry no longer."

"Take me to her."

Jamie's voice rose.

"Now."  Lindsey heard the scrape of a chair against the floor and
Jamie's voice, stronger, as he added, "I will persuade her of her
folly."

"Oh, my lord.  If only you can."

Thinking quickly, Lindsey ducked into a darkened door way as the door
to the room was thrown open, spilling light into the hall.  Jamie
strode past, accompanied by a woman dressed in an elegant blue velvet
traveling gown and ermine-lined cloak.

As they passed, Lindsey slipped from the shadows and followed at a
discreet distance, driven by some inner demon to follow.

Though her heart lay heavy in her breast, she could not tear herself
away.  She would see this mystery woman who owned Jamie MacDonald's
heart.

Chapter Eleven

Jamie stepped through the back door of the tavern with the woman
clinging to his ann.

As Lindsey slipped outside, Jamie and the woman were just disappearing
beyond a bend in the street.  It was an easy matter to follow them.

Lindsey soon realized that they were deliberately keeping to back
streets, where they would not be seen by passing strangers.

They set a brisk pace, and Lindsey had no idea where she was headed.

Under cover of darkness, all the buildings looked the same.  As she
followed, questions filled her mind.  Who was this woman who was
determined to leave tonight?  And what was she to Jamie?  Was she
running from him?  Is that why he was so determined to stop her?  Did
he love her?

As they turned into yet another darkened street, Lindsey paused.  What
she was doing was wrong.  This had started out as a lark, but she was
taking it a step too far.  She had no right to intrude on Jamie
MacDonald's private life.  Perhaps he kept a mistress.  Aye, it must be
a mistress, for he had sounded like a man possessed.  For a moment she
felt a terrible pain around her heart.  Did she really want to
discover such things about him?  The answer came to her instantly.  No
matter what the cost, she needed to know everything she could about
Jamie MacDonald.

Still, she was intruding upon something very private.  She had no claim
on Jamie.  And no fight to follow him on such a personal mission.

After warring with her conscience, she glanced up.  Jamie and the woman
were far ahead, nearly running in their haste.  As she studied the
darkened buildings that towered over her, she realized that she could
never find her way back to the inn.  She had no choice.  She must
follow Jamie or be lost in this maze, perhaps until morning.

Breaking into a run she came to the end of the street.  She looked left
and right.  There was no sign of Jamie or the woman.  Taking a chance,
she turned left and rounded a corner.  There, slipping through a tall
hedge, she spied the two familiar figures.  In the next moment, they
disappeared.

Lindsey started to run.  Ahead of her an unbroken wall of tall hedge
ringed a darkened building.  She searched for the opening into which
Jamie and the woman had disappeared.  But all she could find were
prickly brambles that tore at her flesh and snagged at her clothes.

In the darkness she heard the sound of an approaching horse and rider
coming up behind her.  From the opposite direction another horse and
rider aproached.  Judging by the hooflgeats, both were traveling at
high speed.  She would be trapped between them unless she found the
entrance.

Frantically she reached through the brambles, searching for escape.

Suddenly, looming before her, was the carefully concealed opening sh
sought.  As the horses grew close, she ducked into the narrow hole in
the hedge and stepped through onto a perfectly manicured lawn.  A
walkway led to stone arches, beyond which was a heavy door.

Her palms were sweating.  With great apprehension Lindsey pulled open
the door.  It led to a long hallway lit by sconces that sent eerie,
flickering shadows across the walls.

She was grateful to find the hall empty.  No sounds broke the
stillness. No one challenged her presence.

Following the hallway, Lindsey paused in front of an open door that led
to a cavernous room.  Stepping inside, she saw that Jamie and the woman
were standing on the far side of the room.  They were speaking in low
tones to someone seated in a massive chair drawn up before the glowing
coals of a fire.

Creeping closer, Lindsey strained to hear their words.

"I dare not stay here."  The woman's voice was soft, with a slight
French accent.

"I have brought others who are loyal."

"Brice Campbell?"

"Nay.  Brice is..."  Jamie paused, unable to speak the words. 
Carefully he said, "He is still fighting to recover from the wounds
inflicted in the attack."

There was a gasp followed by a silence.

Jamie cleared his throat.  His tones were low, persuasive.

"When the people hear what has happened, our numbers will swell."

"You do not understand, my dear friend.  At this moment I cannot even
trust those closest to me.  My only safety now is in escape."

"And what of Darnley?"

There was a slight hesitation.

"For the moment he is more afraid of my wrath than of hell itself.  He
will do whatever I command."

"Where will you go?"

"George and Will have offered me haven in Loch- leven."

"Lochleven.  God in heaven.  You would travel that treacherous route in
your condition?"

"Aye.  We leave now if my steed is ready."

"Then I go with you.  And this I vow," Jamie said fervently, falling on
his knees and lifting a small hand to his lips.

"I will not leave your side until all those who dare to threaten you
are lying in their own blood and you are once more safely ensconced
upon the throne at Holyroodhouse."

At his words Lindsey's legs seemed unable to support her.  She sank to
her knees as the realization dawned.  This was not the home of his
mistress or a friend.  This was indeed the queen's fortress.  And the
figure seated before the fire was Mary, Queen of Scots.

Lindsey struggled to shake off the light-headedness that seemed to grip
her.  She had never before fainted.  Nor would she permit such a
weakness now.  But there was no denying that she was confused.

She remained kneeling on the cold floor and watched as three women
crossed the room and bowed before the queen.  All three were weeping
and wringing their hands.

"I implore you, Majesty.  Do not attempt to ride in your condition."

"Stay here with us, where you will be well tended."

"My dear Maries."  The queen kissed each woman, then caught their
hands.

Lindsey knew then that these were three of the queen's maidservants,
all of whom were named Mary.  And the woman at the tavern must have
been the fourth, also named Mary.

Lindsey studied them, recalling the stories she had learned, at her
mother's knee.  Mary Fleming, Mary Seton, Mary Beaton and Mary
Livingston had been the queen's best friends since childhood.  The five
were inseparable.

"You must let us accompany you, Majesty."

"Nay."

At their chorus of cries the queen added, "This I must do alone."

"How will you survive without us?"

There was a long, drawn-out sigh before the queen responded "I know
not.  But survive I must."

"But why Lochleven?  Surely if the people knew, they would rise up and
slay those who would threaten you with harm."

"Aye.  The people love me.  But their minds have been clouded by
Knox.

And he has been fed lies by my enemies.  For now, I must depend upon my
own wiles.  " The queen's tone mirrored her sadness.

"But know that one day soon they will hear the truth, and they will
take up arms against those who spread lies against me."

"I pray that day is soon," one of the women responded.

"Aye."  The queen kissed her friends, and they fell into her arms with
sobs and fresh tears.

"I will see that your steed is ready," Jamie said, leaving them alone
for a final goodbye.

"Then I will return toes cort you to the courtyard, Majesty."

Lindsey watched as he strode from the room.  She wanted desperately to
go after him and explain what she had done.  But there were too many in
the room now.  She was terrified of being discovered by the queen's
staff.  And so she continued to kneel in the shadows and watch and
listen.

The women around the queen were openly weeping.

"You will have neither maid nor trunk, Majesty."

"I will have my life, and my Faith.  And my wits about me."

"Would that I had your courage."

"Hush," the queen whispered.

"We must all be brave."  She turned when a tall, handsome man entered
the room.  To her maids she said, "Leave me now.  I wish to be alone
with my husband."

The women embraced, then hurried from the room, leaving the queen to
face the man.

"What madness are you planning now, madame?"

"Yours was the madness.

My thoughts are quite clear.  I ride to a place of safety.  You may
stay or go with me.  The decision is yours.  "

"You know I cannot stay without you."

"Why?  Would your loyal men decide that you are no longer of any use to
them, and do to you what they did to poor Riccio?"

"You cannot believe that I had anything to do with that."

"I know only this.  I leave now.  If I leave alone, I will return to
rule alone."

With a hiss of anger the man turned on his heel and stormed from the
room, leaving the queen standing before the fire with head bowed.

Lindsey knew this was her only chance to escape with her dignity
intact.  Scrambling to her feet she rushed to the door, then halted in
mid-stride at the sound of the queen's voice.

"Ah.  So my steed awaits me.  Come here, lad."

On trembling legs Lindsey turned and approached the queen.  She was a
small woman, no taller than Lindsey.  Up close, the tears that still
dampened her lashes were clearly visible.

"I will need that cloak," Mary said imperiously, pointing to an
elegant, ermine-lined cloak draped over a chaise.

Lindsey lifted the cloak over the queen's shoulders.  Though the
monarch was heavy with chi Id the garment masked her size.

The queen turned and studied the room, as if memorizing every detail.

Her gaze fell on a portrait hanging over the mantel.  t was of a
beautiful woman with proud, haughty features.  As Lindsey studied the
portrait, she saw a resemblance to the young queen.

"I give you my word, Mother," the Queen whispered, "I will not bring
shame upon our name."

Lifting her head proudly, she placed her hand on Lindsey's arm and
strode beside her out the door and down the long hall.  At the rear of
the castle a door stood ajar.  Beyond was a small, paved courtyard
where Jamie stood holding the reins to a horse.  The hooded, caped
figure of the queen's husband was astride another horse.

"I was just coming to fetch you, Majesty," Jamie said as the queen
approached.

"The groom brought me.  Is all in readiness?"

"Aye."  Jamie's eyes narrowed on the slender figure be side the
queen.

Lindsey's heart stopped.  Surely he would see through her disguise.

Jamie was too distracted.

"I would urge you once more to consider what you are about to do,
Majesty.  This is a perilous journey you undertake."

Lindsey felt the queen's hand on her sleeve and wished she could
flee.

But there was nowhere to hide.  Jamie's scrutiny had her trembling.

"Help me mount," the queen said to Lindsey.

Before Lindsey could assist her, Jamie came to the queen's aid, lifting
her to the saddle with ease.

He handed her the reins, then said, "I have instructed your maid to
notify Douglas Gordon and his clan, who await me at the inn, to return
to the Highlands and assemble a council of all the Highland lairds.  If
they unite behind Your Majesty, you will be powerful enough to repel
any attack.  Further, you will return to Edinburgh in triumph."

"Oh, Jamie, my dearest friend.  I pray it is so."

They looked up at the sound of a commotion at the front gate.

"God in heaven," the queen whispered.

"I recognize Ruthven's voice."

She rounded on the figure astride the second horse.

"Why has he come?"

In a sullen voice her husband said, "It is as I have sworn to you a
hundred times.  They no longer confide in me.  I know nothing of their
plans."

Ignoring the man, Jamie whispered, "Lord Ruthven was here the night
Brice was wounded."  He withdrew his sword form its scabbard and made a
move to follow the sound of the voice.

"I would deal with this villain now."

"Nay, Jamie.  There is no time.  Do you not see?  If he is here in
Edinburgh, he has brought others with him.  Others who wish me dead.
The man covets my power."  The queen's tone was urgent.

"We must ride now."

For a moment Jamie hesitated.  The need to avenge the brutal attack
upon his foster father burned in his heart.  But he had given his word
to Brice Campbell that his first allegiance would be to his queen.  Her
safety must remain uppermost in his mind.

Sheathing his weapon, he pulled himself into the saddle.

"Aye, Majesty.  We ride to Lochleven."

"What of your groom?"  the queen asked suddenly.

"He is not my groom," Jamie said, tearing his gaze from the queen to
study the slender figure more carefully.

"I thought he was your groom."

"Nay.  God in heaven."  Fear darted into the queen's eyes.

In one fluid motion Jamie slid from the saddle and grasped Lindsey by
the front of the tunic, pulling her close.

His voice was a low rasp of fury.

"For whom do you spy?"

For a moment her voice was lodged in her throat.  She felt the cold
steel of his knife as he lifted it to her throat.

"By heaven, you will speak or I will cut out your tongue."  "I ...
followed you here, my lord?"

At the sound of that soft, husky voice, Jamie's eyes widened.

"Lindsey?"

Without waiting for her reply, he tore the that from her head and
watched as tier hair tumbled down her back.

The queen let out a little gasp.

"What trickery is this?"  Jamie hauled the ragged figure close to the
queen's horse, then caught a handful of her hair and forced Lindsey's
head up so that she was facing the queen.

"This is Lindsey Gordon, Majesty.  Her clan accompanied me to
Edinburgh, to offer their services."

"The daughter of Douglas Gordon?"

"Aye, Majesty," Jamie said, still holding Lindsey in a death grip.

"Why are you dressed like that, girl?"

Lindsey swallowed, overcome with emotion.  The queen.  She was talking
to the queen.  Her tongue seemed all twisted.  The words simply would
not come out.  Worse, she felt like weeping.  And if she did, she would
disgrace herself and her family forever.

"Speak, woman.  Lives are at stake."

She swallowed.

"Please, Majesty.  I can explain."

"Quickly," Jamie said through gritted teeth.

"We have no time for silly prattle."

"I--wanted to experience the freedom of a man, Majesty And so
I---dressed like one and followed my lord, Jamie MacDonald, to a
tavern."

The queen's eyes widened, "A tavern?  You entered a tavern dressed like
this?"

"Aye."  Lindsey swallowed.

"But when Jamie left with a woman... The queen glanced from Lindsey to
Jamie, then back again.

"I believe this will prove to be a longer story than we have time for,
my friend."  She drew her cloak around her and said dryly, "She tides
with you."

"What?"  Jamie released Lindsey so quickly she stumbled.

The queen wheeled her mount and called over her shoulder, "I said, the
woman tides with you."

"Surely you cannot mean to take her all the way to Lochleven,
Majesty."

"Would you leave her here with Lord Ruthven and his cutthroats?  They
would have our destination pried from her with a single, carefully
placed thrust of their knives."

Jamie heard the sounds of horses drawing nearer.  He could see the
wisdom of the queen's words.  Yet his mind and heart rebelled against
such a move.  He did not need the distraction of this female during
another dangerous journey.

Still, the queen had commanded it.  Pulling himself into the saddle, he
offered his arm to Lindsey.

She drew away as if to run and he leaned down, catching her roughly by
the shoulder.

"Give me your hand," he ordered.

"Nay.  I will not go with you to some distant place."

"The queen commands it."

"Then to hell with the queen, Jamie MacDonald.  And to hell with
you."

As she tried to twist away he leaned down in the saddle and caught her
around the torso, lifting her easily off the ground.

Through gritted teeth he said, "You had best learn two very important
lessons this night, my lady.  First of all, keep your foul curses to
yourself.  And second, when the queen commands, it is done.  Now," he
rasped, wrapping his arms around her and clutching the reins, "hang on
tightly, woman.  If you fall off, I will not come back for you.  If you
are bleeding, you will lie in your own blood until you are drowned."
'

"But my father and brothers..."

"You should have thought about them before you leaped into this
dangerous little adventure."

Within seconds the three horses sailed over the hedge and disappeared
into the darkness.  A moment later, amid shouting and sweating, more
than a dozen horses and riders entered the empty courtyard and milled
in confusion.

As their horses clattered along the deserted streets of Edinburgh,
Lindsey held herself stiffly in Jamie's arms.

In the darkness she whispered furiously through clenched teeth, "I will
never forgive you for this, Jamie MacDonald.  Never."

And with each mile, her hatred of the man grew as she found herself
wondering if she would ever see her beloved family again.

Chapter Twelve

A thin sliver of pale moon still hung in the sky as the gauzy pink of
dawn began to streak the horizon.

All night they had ridden without stop, hardly dating to glance over
their shoulders as they fled.  On the long night's journey they had
stayed far ahead of those who would harm them, and had encountered no
resistance.

Lindsey held herself stiffly in Jamie's arms.  But as the horses moved
along mile after endless mile of gentle, rolling hillside, frosted by a
silver, predawn mist, she gave in to the overpowering need to sleep.

Jamie knew when sleep overtook her.  Her face lowered to his shoulder
and her lips pressed against his throat.  Her hands grew slack and
dropped listlessly to rest upon his thighs.

To Jamie it was a most pleasant sensation, and a smile touched the
corner of his lips.  She would be horrified if she could see his
reaction to her touch.

He longed to pause in their journey to let her sleep without the
jarring motion of their horse.  He thought about the suite of rooms he
had secured for her at the inn.  A tub of warm water, a roaring fire
and a feather bed awaited her.  Alas, the little firebrand was forced
to endure another difficult journey, a cold trail and a few moments of
respite with her cheek against his shoulder.

He felt the pressure of her breasts against his chest and endured a
tightening in his throat.  To keep her warm, he drew his cloak firmly
around her and hunched his body over hers.

They rode like that for several miles until he felt her head come up
sharply.  She had suddenly been jolted awake.  He sat up straighter.

Embarrassed at her lapse, Lindsey again held herself stiffly in his
arms.  If the queen, who was heavy with child, could ride for hours
without rest, she would allow herself to do no less.  But though she
did not speak to him, she was achingly aware of the man who held her in
the circle of his arms.  The heat of his body still lingered in the
folds of his cloak, and she was grateful for its warmth.

The morning sun was just beginning to break through the clouds when
they halted by the banks of a wide loch.  Far across, in the middle,
four islands converged.  There, in the center of the largest island,
stood a dark imposing castle.

"Praise heaven.  Lochleven at last," the queen breathed.  A man stepped
from his concealment behind some shrubbery that grew down to the
water's edge.  Instantly Jamie slid from his mount and drew his sword,
placing himself between the queen and the stranger.

"Hold, my lord," the man shouted.

"I am sent by my lord William to see to your journey to his castle.  I
have waited all night for your arrival."

As Jamie contintled to challenge him, the stranger pointed to a boat
hidden by foliage.

"It is a humble vessel, Majesty," the man said with lowered gaze, "but
sturdy.

"Twill see you safely across the loch."

"Thank you."  The queen slid wearily from the saddle.

"What about our mounts?"

"I will tie them here and see to them later," the man explained.

Lindsey slid gratefully from the horse and watched as the queen's
husband, who had journeyed with them all night without uttering a
single word, climbed from his mount and took a seat in the boat.

Jamie assisted the queen into the boat, then caught Lindsey's hand and
drew her down on a hard wooden seat beside him.  The boatman pushed
them from shore with a long pole, then bent to his oars.

The wind on the water was cold, and Lindsey shivered despite the warmth
of Jamie's cloak.

She stared at the castle looming across the icy water.  How forbidding
it seemed, with its dark stone and scarred battlements.

"Your thoughts are gloomy, my lady," Jamie whispered.

"But I do not think they are about Lochleven."

"Mayhap I plot ways to thank you for this, my lord."

Jamie swallowed back a smile.  The lady had no idea how beautiful she
looked when fire blazed in her eyes.

"If you plot to swim the loch, know that the waters are frigid, and the
distance to shore is great."

"It is a small price to pay to return to my family.  I fear for my
father," she murmured, praying the queen would not overhear.

"He will be heartsick when he awakens and discovers that I am absent
from the inn."

"And what," Jamie muttered, "will the rumors be when it is discovered
that I am also missing, along with Douglas Gordon's virginal
daughter?"

Lindsey gave a little gasp and turned to meet his dark gaze.

"Aye, my lady.  Rumors will abound, especially in a city like
Edinburgh, where rumors and gossip are the very food of its
citizens."

His eyes narrowed.

"It matters not what they say about me.  I have lived with such things
my whole life.  But I deeply regret what this will do to your father
when he sees such a cloud upon his daughter's reputation."

Lindsey turned and stared at the rough waves of the loch, her thoughts
as dark as the water.  She had to escape this nightmare.  And soon.

"Land ahead," the boatman called out.

The queen turned to watch as the boat glided silently toward the
island.  Lindsey studied the stiff spine of her monarch and watched the
proud lift of her head as they neared land.  Though Mary must be weary
beyond belief, she could not forget for even a moment that she was the
queen, and must appear regal to all her subjects.

As soon as the boat touched land Jamie leaped to the shore and assisted
the queen from the boat.  The hooded man climbed out and stared around
as if in a daze.  Jamie took Lindsey's hand and helped her onto dry
land.

"I will ferry the horses one at a time, Majesty," the boatman said, "so
that you might ride the grounds of Loch- leven if you desire."

"That is most kind of you."  The queen drew her cloak around her to
ward off the chill from the water.

"What is your name?"

"Justin MacLeod, Majesty."

"Thank you, Justin MacLeod.  Your kindness will not be forgotten."

Moved by his queen's gratitude, the man bowed low until she and her
party had turned away.

No one took any notice of the silvery shadow that crawled from the loch
and shook the water from its heavy coat before disappearirig into the
mist.

The queen and her party strode through damp marsh and tall grass until
they reached a hilly mound.  Walking became easier as they made their
way along a winding drive lined with stately trees and formal
gardens.

In the distance, perched on a ravine, were the crumbling remains of
ancient monastic buildings.  A new chapel had been built along one side
of the castle.  Despite the obvious attempts to beautify the ancient
fortress, it retained the wild, primitive look of a hunting lodge.

As they drew near, the massive doors were thrown wide.  Lindsey paused,
expecting to see a staff of several dozen spill through the open
doorway to greet their royal guest.  Instead, a tiny, birdlike woman,
wiping her hands on her apron, bobbed her way down the stone steps.

Behind her trailed a girl of about ten and four, and a stooped little
man in immaculately tailored livery.

Queen Mary looked beyond them expectantly.  When no one else appeared,
she turned to the woman, who curtsied.

"Welcome to Lochleven, Majesty.  My name is Genevieve Macnab."  She
made another curtsy, then went on in the same breath, "This is my
daughter, Sabina."  She caught the lass by both shoulders and pushed
her forward, causing the girl to stumble as she made a clumsy bow.

"She will be your personal maid, if she pleases you."  Taking a deep
breath, she caught the old man by the hand and drew him to her side.

"And this is my husband, Fergus.  He will be manservant, footman,
stable master, coachman.  Fergus can do everything."

The man made a sweeping bow.

"Welcome to Loch- leven, Majesty."

For a moment the queen was silent, and the three shifted uncomfortably.
Then a soft smile touched Mary's lips.

"Thank you, Master Macnab, Mistress Macnab.  Your daughter, Sabina,
seems a fine, sturdy lass.  I shall be most grateful for her
assistance."

The three beamed with pleasure.

Mary turned to include the others in her party.

"This is my husband, Lord Darnley."

Lindsey was-aware of the ice in the queen's tone and turned to study
the hooded figure beside her.  The man barely glanced at the servants
before striding up the steps.

Ignoring his impertinence, Mary said softly, "This is my true and loyal
friend, Jamie MacDonald."

"My lord."  Fergus stepped forward and extended his hand, his eyes wide
with respect.

"I have long heard of your prowess in battle.  Your name is legend.  It
is a rare privilege to meet you at long last."

"Thank you, Fergus."

"And this," the queen said, swallowing back a sudden smile, "is the
lady Lindsey Gordon."

Lindsey saw the way the Macnab family studied her, their gazes locked
on her strange clothes.

It was Genevieve Macnab who composed herself quickly enough to say,
"Welcome, my lady."

"Thank you, Mistress Macnab."

"And now," Mary said, lifting her skirts as she began to ascend the
steps, "I want nothing more than a comfort able bed."

"I have prepared a meal, Majesty."

The queen's pale skin seemed almost translucent in the morning
sunlight.  Blue veins could be seen just below the surface.  She
suddenly seemed as frail as a wee hairn.

"Not just now.  I could not manage to eat a thing, Mis tress Macnab. If
you will but show me to my quarters."

"Aye, Majesty."  With a worried frown, the housekeeper and her daughter
led the way up a wide, curving staircase.

"We.prepared a suite of rooms for you and your husband, Majesty."

Mistress Macnab threw open double doors leading to an elegantly
appointed sitting chamber.  Beyond that was a large room with several
desks and chairs, and beyond that a second it ting chamber, with doors
on either end leading to matching sleeping chambers.

Everything, Lindsey noted, was scrubbed and polished to a high shine.

The queen examined both sleeping chambers and announced "I will sleep
here."  To the housekeeper she added, "Lord Darnley will occupy the
other room."

Mistress Macnab arched a brow but said nothing.

"Now I would rest," Mary announced.

"Sabina, you will assist me."

"Aye, Majesty."  The girl bowed and began to remove the queen's
cloak.

"If you will follow me," the housekeeper said to Lindsey and Jamie, "I
will show you to your rooms."

They followed the woman down the hall toward a second suite of rooms.

The sitting chamber was a large, cheerful room with rich tapestries on
the walls and heavy rugs on the floor.  A fire blazed in the fireplace,
in front of which had been positioned several chaises and chairs.  On a
sideboard were a decanter of ale and several crystal goblets.

On either end of the room were doors leading to identical sleeping
chambers.

The housekeeper seemed embarrassed as she explained to Jamie, "I was
not told to expect you and the lady.  I have no other rooms prepared.

And my Lord William had the servants transported to his castle outside
Edinburgh, because, he said, the queen would bring her own trusted
staff.  But if you will give me a day, my daughter and I can have
another suite of rooms prepared.  "

"It is not necessary, Mistress Macnab.  The lady and I
are--together."

Jamie had seen the look on Lindsey's face.  And he knew she was
calculating how long it would take her to swim the loch and return to
Edinburgh.  He would need to keep her close.

"Lady Lindsey will be quite comfortable sharing the suite."

To hide her embarrassment, Lindsey stepped into one of the sleeping
chambers, hoping the color would fade from her hot cheeks.  It was not
seemly that a maiden share such close quarters with a man.  But like so
many other things in her life lately, this was beyond her control.  She
would simply have to make the best of it until she could slip away from
this terrible place.

She took these minutes to appreciate the work that had been done in
preparation for their visit.  The rooms were furnished much like the
queen's chamber, with a large bed surrounded by satin curtains.  In
front of the fireplace were two chairs covered with animal hides.

"My lord William loves to hunt."  Mistress Macnab, standing in the
doorway, had noted the direction of Lindsey's gaze.

"So this is his hunting lodge?"

"Aye.  He thought it would be a fine place for Queen Mary to await the
birth of her hairn."  The housekeeper turned a quizzical glance toward
Jamie.

"We expected Her Majesty to travel with her servants, my lord."

Jamie's features revealed nothing.

"The queen has chosen a respite from the pomp and ceremony that
surrounds her at court.  This will be a quiet time for her until after
the birth.  We are here to see that nothing disturbs her.  If a problem
should arise, Mistress Macnab, bring it to me.  And if anyone should
come to call, anyone," he said very carefully, "you are to tell me at
once."

The housekeeper smiled conspiratorially.

"Aye, my lord.  I understand.

I felt the same way myself, before giving birth to Sabina.  Why, there
were times when I wished I could just send Fergus away, so I could sit
all by myself and dream about the wee hairn I would soon be holding to
my breast.  A woman needs some time alone.  Especially a woman like our
lovely queen.

"I told Fergus how blessed we were that we had been chosen to be the
ones to stay behind and see to the needs of our monarch.  If my lord
William had not chosen us, I would be in that cold city now, cooking
for the likes of Lady Margaret, who finds fault with everything I do.

That woman has never liked anything in all the years I have been with
Lord William.  Of course, Fergus and I have been with him since he took
his first wife, the lovely Lady Catherine.  "

Lindsey swallowed a laugh and turJ]ed to warm herself in front of the
fire.  As the housekeeper paused to take a breath, Jamie seized the
opportunity to say, "You mentioned a meal earlier, Mistress Macnab. The
lady and I would be pleased to sample your cooking."

"Oh."  She seemed surprised at the interruption of her narrative.

"Aye.

Of course, my lord.  I prepared a fine meal in honor of the queen's
visit.  " She started toward the door, then paused.

"Will your trunks be here soon, my lord?"

Jamie coughed.

"Nay, mistress.  I fear there will be no trunks.  We had--an accident
along the way."

"How dreadful.  What will you do for clothes?"

Before Jamie could think of something to say, the house keeper
brightened.

"It is no matter, my lord.  There are trunks filled with fine clothes
for Lord William, Lady Margaret and the guests who always accompany
them to Loch- leven.  I will see that your wardrobes are well
stocked."

"We are indeed fortunate to have you, Mistress Mac- nab."

At Jamie's warm smile she blushed all the way to her toes and bowed her
way from the room.  When the door closed behind her, Lindsey speared
him with a hateful look.

"I had not known you to be so charming.  Nor such an accomplished liar,
my lord."

"Nor had I."  He shrugged.

"Necessity is a fine teacher, it would seem."

Lindsey walked to the balcony and stood watching as the morning sun
burned off the mist that shrouded the loch.  On the far shore, the boat
could be seen heading toward land.  She would have to make good her
escape before Jamie's mount was ferried across or she would have no
horse to ride to Edinburgh.

"What bitter irony," she murmured.

"All during our journey, my consolation for the discomfort was that I
would finally see the queen in Edinburgh, a city teeming with people,
with life, with excitement.

Instead I am isolated.  " Lindsey shivered, drawing her arms tightly
around her.

"I

am far more isolated here in Lochleven than I have ever been in the
Highlands, What is worse, I am separated from my father and brothers.
"

Jamie cautioned himself against feeling too deeply about the lass's
troubles.  His only concern must be the safety of the queen.  He must
not let anything or anyone distract him from his duty.  He lifted the
decanter and filled two goblets.  Crossing the room he handed one to
her.

As she accepted it he said, "I have learned never to question fate.

This is not as either of us had planned it, my lady.  But it could have
been much worse.  "

"Worse?  My dream has always been to meet the queen.  Yet I met her,
not in my finest gown, but in the garb of a street lad.  I was
abducted, without even a chance to get word to my father, who will be
grieving inconsolably.  We rode all night in fear for our very lives."
She turned away, missing the smile that touched his mouth.

"How could it have been any worse?"

"You could still be at your quiet, isolated home in the Highlands, my
lady, yearning for adventure."

"Oh!"  She pushed past him and slammed her goblet down on the
sideboard. When she lifted her head he could see the glitter of tears
filling her eyes.

"If I could think only of myself, none of this would matter.  Do you
not see?  My father's heart can bear no ffirther strain.

My unexplained, absence could be the death of him.  "

"Where was your concern about your father last night?"  Jamie asked
quietly.

"Did you give a thought to him when you dressed yourself in such a
manner and followed me to a tavern?  It would sem, my lady, that you
think of others only when it pleases you."

Lindsey blinked her tears away and straightened her spine.  Turning
toward the sleeping chamber she said, "If you will excuse me, my lord,
I will follow the example of the queen and seek my solitude."

"Aye.  But bear in mind that it was Mary who ordered you here, my lady.
Do not attempt to leave Lochleven.  Or the queen might order the
removal of your lovely head."

"She is not that cruel."

He caught her arm and drew her close, his eyes narrowed in anger.

Through clenched teeth he said, "It is not cruelty for Mary to protect
herself at all cost from those who would steal her very life.  And no
one, not even you, my lady, will be permitted to leave this place, lest
you unwittingly reveal the queen's sanctuary."

Pulling away from him, Lindsey entered her sleeping chamber and slammed
the door, shutting out his words.

For long minutes after she left, Jamie stood staring at the closed
door.  Then he turned and glanced at the rolling hills in the distance,
far across the loch.

The lass was right about one thing.  Her father would suffer great
heartache from her unexplained absence.

His hand clenched at his side.  Though it would involve much risk, he
would find a way to get word to Douglas Gordon.

Chapter Thirteen

Lindsey answered the knock on her door and found shy, sweet Sabina
standing there with an assortment of ladies' garments.

"My mother said I was to bring these to you straight away," the lass
said, timidly entering Lindsey's sleeping chamber.

"My lord Jamie MacDonald wanted to fetch you, but I was sent ahead to
see that you were properly gowned."

"Thank you, Sabina.  I will be most grateful to be rid of what I am
wearing."

While the girl laid out the clothes on the big bed, Lindsey swallowed
her anger.  Jamie would fetch her, indeed.  She could see to her own
needs without his interference.

She removed her borrowed breeches and tunic and began to wash
herself.

In the looking glass she could see the girl watching her with interest.
Finally Sabina broke the silence.

"My mother said I inust not ask you about your strange clothing, my
lady."  She ducked her head when Lindsey turned.

"But I have never seen a fine lady wearing such as--that."  She pointed
to the pile of soiled clothing at Lindsey's feet.

"My father said 'twas because you are a Highlander, and they are a
rough, strange breed."

Lindsey swallowed a laugh.

"Aye, it is a strange costume is it not?"  She smiled and beckoned the
girl to help her into the delicate chemise and petticoats.

As the lass tied the ribbons, Lindsey said, "Though I am indeed a
Highlander, this is not my usual garment.  I wanted to appear to be a
lad, so that I could enter a tavern unmolested."

"A tavern, my lady?"  The girl's hands stilled as she stared at Lindsey
with a look of surprise.

"Aye.  I wanted the freedom accorded a man.  And so I dressed like
one."

"Oh, my lady."  The girl's voice lowered to a whisper.

"What was it like?"

Lindsey thought of the way her heart had pounded, and the anger when
she had seen Jamie leave with a beautiful woman, and the fear when she
realized she was lost in a strange city.

"It was a passionate feeling, and a sense of freedom like no other,
Sabina.  And though it turned out all wrong, I would do it again."

Lindsey realized she was telling more than she ought.

"But I must not tarry.  Can you help me with my gown?"

The servant lifted the gown over Lindsey's head, then smoothed down the
skirt.  While she buttoned it, Lindsey studied her reflection in the
looking glass.

The gown was midnight blue velvet, with a low, softly rounded neckline
and narrow waist.  The sleeves were full at the shoulder, then narrow
from elbow to wrist and tied with lighter blue ribbons.  The voluminous
skirt was gathered here and there with the same pale blue ribbons,
revealing an underskirt of matching midnight blue.

"Sit, my lady," Sabina said, "and I will dress your hair."

Lindsey sat in front of the looking glass and Sabina began to brush the
tangles from her hair.  When it was brushed smooth, the servant caught
the sides with jeweled combs, allowing the rest of Lindsey' shair to
stream down her back in a cascade of silken waves.

"Oh, my lady," Sabina breathed.

"Without a single adornment of jewels, you look lovelier than any of
the titled ladies who have been guests here at Lochleven."

"Thank you, Sabina."  Lindsey stood and walked to the door.

"Despite your tender age, you are a fine ladies' maid."

She pulled open the door, missing the smile of pleasure that touched
the girl's lips.

Below stairs Fergus greeted Lindsey warmly.

"Ah, my lady.  How splendid you look."

She gave him a bright smile.

"Thank you, Fergus.  Your wife has promised a fine meal."

"Aye, it is being readied in the refectory.  If you will follow me, my
lord MacDonald, Lord Darnley and the queen await you in the library."

"The queen?  I thought she was too weary to eat."

"Aye, my lady.  We thought so, too.  But she and her husband descended
the stairs just minutes ago."

He led her along the hall past several darkened rooms.  At the door to
the library, he paused, allowing her to enter first.

Bowing to the queen, Fergus said, "I will announce when all is in
readiness, Majesty."

"Thank you, Fergus."

With a lap robe tucked around her, the queen resided on a chaise
positioned near the fireplace.  Her husband, Lord Darnley, stood beside
a table upon which rested a silver tray with a decanter and goblets.

Jamie stood to one side of the fireplace.  His eyes narrowed as he
studied Lindsey.

For a moment she felt shy and awkward.  Always before, she had had her
father and brothers around her to act as buffers.  Now she was alone
with the queen and her dour husband, and with this stem man who always
seemed to cause her pulse to race.

"So," the queen said as Lindsey crossed the room, "this is our young
stable lad.  You look much more fetching in a gown than you did in
those shabby breeches and tunic."

Seeing the flush upon her cheeks, Jamie took pity on her and poured her
a cup of tea.  As he crossed the room to hand it to her, Lord Darnley
said loudly, "I thought the lady filled those breeches admirably."

At his coarse comment Lindsey's cheeks flamed.  Al though it was early
morning, it was obvious that the queen's husband had already had much
to drink.

An awkward silence fell Over them.  As Lindsey accepted the cup from
Jamie's hands, she glanced at the queen, who pretended to have heard
nothing.  A quick glance at Jamie's face revealed a tiny muscle working
in his jaw as he turned toward Lord Darnley and watched him fill his
tankard again.

Eager to break the uncomfortable silence, Lindsey said softly, "I am
grateful that Mistress Macnab managed to find some clothes that fit
me."

"As she did for all of us," the queen remarked, glancing down at the
demure ivory gown and shawl that covered her swollen figure.

"I am pleased Your Majesty saw fit to join us to break our fast."

"I could not sleep.  There was so much whirling around inside my head,
I could scarcely close my eyes."  The queen fixed Lindsey with an
intense look.

"How did you come by the garb of a stable lad?"

"I paid for them."

Jamie and Darnley listened with interest.

"How much did you pay the lad for his clothes?"

"A gold sovereign."  Lindsey lifted the cup to her lips and tasted.

"And did you simply approach him and ask him to're move his clothes?"

Across the room, Jamie chuckled.

At the queen's bold question, Lindsey nearly choked on the tea.
Swallowing, she lifted her head to glare at Jamie, then turned a more
composed face to the queen.

"His sister was a maidservant at the inn where we were spending the
night.  I asked her to help me with a disguise, and she was happy to
oblige."

"You swore her to secrecy, I suppose."

"Of course, Majesty."

The queen became more animated.

"And all because you wanted to taste the freedom enjoyed by a man, you
said?"

Lindsey nodded.

"I followed Jamie MacDonald to a tavern."  "Tell me, Lady Lindsey.  Did
you enjoy yourself in the tavern Lindsey's eyes grew dreamy for a
moment.

"Except for my fear of being discovered, it was not altogether
unpleasant.  A wench brought me a tankard of ale, and I sat in a corner
and watched the others."  Lindsey thought about the man and woman who
had paraded their lust in front of the entire assembly before going off
to a room at the tavern There were some things, she realized, that she
could not mention.

"Alas, I could not join in the conversations or the laughter, or my
masquerade would have been uncovered."

Caught up in the tale Mary touched a hand to her heart.

"How exciting.  Had I been in your place, I would have feared
detection."

"Nay.  " It was not so frightening as it sounds.  And if I had had the
good sense to return to the inn when my charade was over, no one would
have been the wiser.  " She lowered her head, aware that Jamie was
watching her closely.

"If the opportunity were afforded you, would you care to go back and
enjoy a tankard or two with the sailors and tradesmen again?"

Despite herself, Lindsey broke into a grin.

"Perhaps.  But if truth be told, I now see no reason to envy men their
freedom to go to such places.  The tavern was filled with smoke.  And
the smell of ale was quite dreadful."

"Ah, my dear Lady Lindsey, I am so envious."

"Envious?  How could you possibly envy others, Majesty

"It is laughable, is it not?  But I have always been envious of the
freedom others take for granted."  The queen gave a deep sigh.

"I

suppose it is true of all people.  We want what we cannot have.  We
despise that which we are forced to endure.  And ofttimes, when we are
given choices, we choose that which we formerly rejected.  "

She cast a meaningful glance at her husband, who drained his tankard
and pointedly ignored her.

They looked up when Fergus announced that their meal was ready in the
refectory.

The queen led the way, with her hand on her husband's sleeve.  Lindsey
and Jamie followed.

The refectory was a bright, cheery room.  Sunlight poured through the
windows, making patterns on the stone floor.  The fragrance of freshly
baked bread mingled with the scent of spring flowers blooming in a
garden just beyond the doors.

The queen's mood seemed to lighten.

"Tell me," she said, accepting a seat at the head of the table and
glancing toward Lindsey, who sat beside Jamie "How did you happen to be
in the drawing room of Ho- lyroodhouse last night?"

Lindsey felt as trapped as she had last night, when her charade had
been uncovered.

"I---did not know my way back to the inn.  When I saw my lord MacDonald
leave, I thought to follow him."

Jamie turned and fixed Lindsey with a strange, compel ling look that
made her throat go dry.

Their conversation was interrupted when Fergus Macnab carried in a
covered silver tray and knelt before the queen.  Mistress Macnab
removed the domed cover, revealing a tiny plump pig roasted to
perfection and surrounded by glazed fruit.

When the queen had uttered the appropriate comments of praise, the tray
was carried to a nearby side board where the roast was carved and
prepared for serving.  While Fergus held the tray, his wife served
their plates at the table Sabina entered with a basket of freshly baked
breads and a pitcher of cold water.

when their guests' plates were heaped, the women're tired to the
scullery while Fergus remained standing behind the queen to see to her
every need.

The queen tasted her food and gave a smile of pleasure.

"Mayhap I will not miss Holyroodhouse as much as I had feared. Mistress
Macnab is as good as she promised."

Behind her Fergus stared straight ahead.  But the comment had not been
lost on him.  His eyes were alight with pleasure.

Lindsey savored the meal as much for the excellence of the food as for
the fact that the queen had not addressed her since the meal began.

Suddenly, however, the food turned to ashes in her mouth when the queen
fixed her with a haughty look.

"You say you followed Jamie to Holyroodhouse?"  Lindsey swallowed.

"Aye, Majesty."

"Was he not accompanied by Mary Livingston, one of my ladies?"  the
queen asked, studyhg her pointedly.

"I---did not know the lady's identity."

"Ah."  The queen's lips curved slightly.

"Did it not occur to you that Jamie and the woman might not be
returning to the inn?"

Lindsey felt Jamie's aze on her and took a sip of water.

"I may have entertained such a thought, Majesty.  But by then, it was
too late.  I had no choice but to follow him, since I was thoroughly
lost in the city."

"You did not know you were at Holyroodhouse?"

"Nay, Majesty.  I knew only that Jamie and the lady had entered, and so
I followed."

The queen arched a brow and shot a glance at Jamie.

"So, if my lord MacDonald had been entering into a--tryst with the
mysterious lady, perhaps in her own home or the home of a trusted
friend, you would have been a witness to it?"

Lindsey's cheeks flamed.  There was no escaping the queen's razor wit
and sharp tongue.

"I ... have never before done such a thing, Majesty."

The queen's voice was warm with laughter.

"You are indeed a bold woman, Lindsey Gordon."

Lindsey could feel Jamie's gaze boring into her, but she avoided
meeting his look.

Abruptly the queen changed topics.

"How many brothers do you have?"

"Four, Majesty."

"Four brothers.  Should that not give you an advantage over most other
women?"

"I do not understand."

"One would think that you, surrounded by so many men, would understand
the way a man's mind works."

Lindsey couldn't hide her wry smile.

"I regret, Majesty, that despite having a father and four brothers, I
have never understood the working of a man's mind.  It is still a
puzzle to me."

"As it is to me," the queen said thoughtfully, glancing at the man who
sat at the other end of the table Though Darnley shared their meal, he
seemed to take little interest in their conversation.

"Perhaps, Jamie," the queen said with a laugh, "you will one day help
us with our dilemma."

"I am more than happy to accept your offer, providing Your Majesty will
teach me the way a woman's mind works in return."

"It does not work," came Darnley's voice from his place at the table

"A woman simply makes a judgment, and all the powers of persuasion in
the world will not change her mind."

Mary studied her husband's frowning face for a moment, then turned to
Fergus.

"We would take our sweets now."

"Aye, Majesty."

The old man hurried away and returned within minutes, followed by his
wife and daughter, who carried trays of puddings and tarts.

As the queen accepted a heaping portion she remarked, "The child I
carry will be very sweet indeed.  For I have never craved sweets as
much as I have in these past months."

"My son," Darnley said with a sneer, "will not be sweet.  He will be
strong.  Strong enough to control the women he beds."

"You mean woman," Mary emphasized.

"I mean women."  Lifting his goblet in the direction of the housekeeper
he snarled, "Fill this, wench.  And be quick about it."

Mistress Macnab lifted a decanter and filled his goblet, then started
to walk away.  He caught her by the wrist, pulling her back with a
vicious tug.  His display of temper was distressing for all to
witness,

Jamie started to rise, but the queen laid her hand upon his sleeve to
stay his movements.

As the "three watched, Darnley snatched the decanter from the
housekeeper's hands and set it down with a clatter beside his plate.

"I need to fortify myself," he muttered to no one in particular, "lest
this meal should go on forever."

"You need not stay," the queen said with icy calm.

"You would suggest that I break with protocol, ma dame?  Who would dare
to leave the room before the queen?  Surely not her husband and loyal
servant," "You are neither."

His head came up sharply, and he got to his feet so quickly his chair
tumbled backward, making a terrible noise.

Mistress Macnab and her daughter came running from the scullery, then
stopped in their tracks.

"Are you suggesting that I am no longer your husband, madame?"

The queen said nothing as he weaved unsteadily.

"And as for loyal servant... There has never been a more loyal servant
than I," he shouted.

"I have given you what your first husband, your beloved Francis, could
not give you.  A child, madame.  A royal child, an heir to the throne."
His voice wavered.

"There is no more devoted servant in all of Scotland than I. And you
would be wise to remember that."

In the silence that followed the queen shocked the on lookers by
getting to her feet.  In her most haughty tones she said, "I would take
your arm now, Damley, so that I might retire."

He blinked, then stood straighter as he came around the table and
offered her his arm.  Placing her hand upon his sleeve she turned to
the bewildered housekeeper.

"My compliments, Mistress Macnab.  The meal was every bit as fine as
any I have ever been served."

Mistress Macnab curtsied.

"Thank you, Majesty."

"Good day, Jamie.

The two stood and bowed until the queen and her husband exited the
room.  Then they sat down.

Shaken by the scene she had just witnessed, Lindsey sipped the strong,
hot tea that had been served with the sweets.  Beside her, Jamie
brooded in silence.

When the servants left the room, Lindsey turned to Jamie.

"Is he mad?"

"I think not.  But his mind is surely addled by spirits.  I had heard
the rumors, of course, but I had no idea it had gone so far."

"The queen does not seem to fear him."

"It is not her nature.  Mary is a fiery monarch, who was raised since
infancy to believe that the world is hers.  I think she still cannot
completely believe that anyone would want to see her dead."

"But she fled Holyroodhouse."

"Aye.  And perhaps she was right to flee.  That band of angry lords had
fire in their eyes.  I know that look.  They will not be satisfied
until there is blood on their hands.  But I think my fear for her was
greater than her fear for her self?"

"But you tried to persuade her to stay."

"Aye.  It is why I broUght your family to Edinburgh.  They are the sort
of warriors I need to keep the queen safe from attack until she can
take her cause to the people.  But Mary fled because she fears that the
minds of the people have been poisoned against her."

"And what say you, my lord?"

"I think, for now, this quiet place will be good for Mary.  I will do
all in my power to raise an army to lead her back, victorious, to
Edinburgh."

Jamie stood and paced to the windows overlooking the fragrant garden.

When he turned, his eyes were narrowed upon Lindsey.

"Perhaps your intrusion upon our mission was the hand of fate."

"I do not understand."

"Since her birth, Mary has always been surrounded by people who tell
her only what they think she wants to hear."  A hint of a smile touched
his lips as he added, "You are not at all like that, my lady.  I could
not see you telling even the queen pretty lies."

"I would never say hurtful things."

"Nay, my lady.  Nor would I want you to.  But even the queen needs at
times to hear the truth."

As the servants entered to begin clearing the table Jamie offered his
ann to Lindsey.

"You should rest now.  The night was a long one."

"Aye, my lord."

They walked from the refectory.  At the foot of the stairs Jamie paused
and placed a hand beneath Lindsey's chin, forcing her to meet his
steady gaze.

"If you think to escape and return to your father, be warned that the
loch has claimed many lives, my lady.  And if the loch does not stop
your escape, I will."

She tried to back away but he held her firmly.  She glared at him.

"I

do not think you would kill me, Jamie MacDonald.  "

"It would not be necessary to kill you, my lady, in order to halt your
escape.  There are other ways."

"What other ways?"

He ran his finger lightly across her lips.  Too late, she saw what he
planned.  As she tried to pull away he drew her closer and covered her
lips with his.

The kiss was hard and quick.  Lindsey felt the swift rush of heat as
her pulse grew erratic.  She despised the weakness in her that made her
want to cling to him and offer more.

Too late, Jamie realized his mistake.  He should have known the mere
taste of her would fire his need for this woman.  But she had become an
obsession, filling his mind when he least expected it.  And now that he
was tasting, he wanted more.  Much more.

Calling on all his self-control he lifted his head.

In a voice barely more than a whisper he said, "Remind me to thank
Mistress Macnab for finding you such fetching clothes.  Though I agree
with Darnley that you filled the breeches nicely, you are a rare beauty
in that gown."

Lindsey felt a rush of heat and pushed away from him.

"Good day, my lord."

She turned and hurried up the stairs.  But not before he saw the color
that flooded her cheeks.

Jamie moved toward the gardens, deep in thought.  The lass would try
to escape He could see it in her eyes.  But she would not succeed.

He thought about the blush that had touched her skin.  It gave him an
odd sense of power to know that his simple touch could have such an
effect on the bold lass.

Despite the danger in this undertaking, he found himself already
looking forward to the days to come, when he would have other chances
to spar with this fascinating, beguiling woman.

Chapter Fourteen

Daylight was fading when Lindsey awoke.  Evening shadows stretched
across the roiling lawns that sloped to the loch.

Clad in only the sheer sleeping gown Sabina had provided she lit a
taper and stood for long moments at the balcony window, gauging the
distance across the icy loch.  Her family was so far away.

She missed them.  She had not believed their absence would be so
painful.  How many times had she yearned to be free of their teasing,
their bickering?  Yet here in this silent castle she felt more alone
than ever before.

Had Donald met a dozen females by now, who had captivated him with
their charms?  Was Robbie composing pretty poems about Scotland's most
famous city?  Had Mur ray awoken with a throbbing headache, and vowed,
as he had so often before, that the would follow his father's ex ample
and lead a more moderate life?  And Neal.  Dear Neal.  Was he telling
Cedric, the young groom, how to care for their horses?  And grieving
because he had missed the chance to see the queen's mount?

In her mind's eye she could see her father's face, etched with worry
over her unexplained absence.  How many times must he be made to suffer
because of her?  All her life, it seemed, she had caused him pain.  It
grieved her to be the source of so much concern.

She would make amends.  The plan had been forming in her mind since her
arrival.  The timing was perfect.  Setting the candle on a table she
hurried across the room and picked up the sword that had been hanging
over the fire place and the bundle of clothing she had discarded that
morning.  If the disguise had worked once, it would work again.

She would leave Lochleven under cover of darkness and arrive in
Edinburgh by dawn.  She had seen Justin MacLeod ferrying the horses
across the loch.  She knew where they were stabled.  She would borrow
Jamie's mount for the journey.  He would understand, as would the
queen. She would leave a missive professing her regret at what she must
do. But her father's heart could not be broken again.

At a knock she hurriedly tossed the breeches and tunic beneath her bed.
Draping a shawl over her shoulders she walked to the door.

"I saw the light of your candle, my lady," Jamie said, "and knew you
were awake."

He studied the way she looked, her slender body visible beneath the
gauzy gown, her long hair tumbling down her back in a riot of tangles,
and felt desire stir within him.

She seemed breathless.  Two bright spots df color flamed on her
cheeks.

"You are not welcome in my chambers, my lord."

She made a move to close the door but he stopped her, holding the door
when she would slam it shut.

"Our queen seeks your company below stairs."

She hesitated.  A royal command could not be denied.  But these hours
were fleeting.  Swallowing her frown, she nodded.

"Then I will be happy to join her.  It will take but a few minutes to
prepare myself."

As she closed the door to her chambers, Jamie walked to the fireplace
and stood, deep in thought.  The lass was up to something.  He
recognized the fire in those green eyes.  I He would have to keep a
careful watch on her.  It would be like Lindsey to attempt to escape
Lochleven and blunder around the countryside, searching for Edinburgh.
Jamie began to pace.  He had been below stairs a short time ago.  It
was obvious that Lord Darnley had been drinking most of the day. 
Unless he fell into a drunken stupor, he would be in an ugly mood this
night. Jamie frowned.  He would have to devise ways to keep Mary in
plain view, where he could protect her.

He had to protect Mary from her husband, and Lindsey from herself.  No
small task.  Mayhap he could persuade Lindsey to talk about her family.
The queen would be entertained by the colorful descriptions of
Lindsey's father and brothers, for theirs was a lively group.  It could
help pass the time.  It would also keep Lindsey in the same room with
the queen, where Jamie could watch both of them.  Somehow, he must
devise ways to bring these two women closer together.  Then his job of
watching both of them would be easier.  When the door to Lindsey's
chambers opened, she was dressed much like she had been that morning.
The blue gown molded her trim figure.  Her hair was pinned back with
combs.  Her eyes sparkled now with fresh vitality.

As they descended the wide stairs, Jamie offered his arm and she placed
her hand upon his sleeve.  Thoughts of the kiss they had shared played
through his mind, and he glanced at the woman beside him.

Though her lashes were demurely lowered, he felt the heat of her touch
and cursed himself for the rush of feelings that he could not dispel.
When they entered the withdrawing room, Lindsey curtsied before the
queen, who was seated in a comfortable chair in front of a roaring
fire.  Lord Darnley stood to one side, frowning into his tankard.

"Ah, Lindsey.  You are rested?"

"Aye, Majesty.  And you?  I trust you slept?"

"I do not sleep as well as I once did, but I am rested.  The babe
moves within me," the queen said, touching a hand to her swollen
stomach, "whenever I try to rest."

"Is it painful?"  Lindsey cast a worried glance at her monarch.

Mary smiled gently.

"Nay.  It is, in fact, a most pleasant sensation."

She arched a brow as she studied the young woman.

"Do you know nothing about childbirth?"

"Very little, Majesty.  As daughter of the laird, I have assisted in a
few birthings in the village.  But my own mother died when I was a
child, and none of my brothers has taken a wife."

"Then I shall have to share this adventure with you.  Would you like
that, Lindsey?"

For the first time since they had met, the queen truly smiled, and
Lindsey studied her in the glow of the candlelight.  She was a lovely
woman at twenty-three.  Mary's hair was more red than blond.  Her
almond eyes sparkled with humor, and she had a well-formed mouth and
chin.  Up close her skin was as fine as porcelain.

Lindsey'ssmile matched the queen's.

"I would like that very much, Majesty."

"Come."  Mary indicated the chair beside hers.

"Join me in a cup of tea before we sup."

As Find sey took her seat the queen poured from a silver tea server.

Lindsey glanced appreciatively around the room.  Trophies of the hunt
adorned the walls.  Talented artists had recreated on canvas scenes of
Sir William as he hunted deer, boar and bird.  The floors were carpeted
with hides.  Though this was obviously a man's sanctuary, it was
softened by the addition of a few chairs covered with plush pelts and a
marble table displaying a collection of lovely woodland creatures
crafted of silver and gold.

"Will you take tea with us, Darnley?"  the queen asked.

Her husband barely looked up.

"Nay.  I much prefer my ale."  "Jamie?"

Jamie smiled.

"I fear I would prefer ale as well, Majesty"

"Ah, well."  The queen saw the way Lindsey's gaze trailed through the
window to the loch, dark now with evening shadows.

"I see you have still not resigned yourself to being here with us."

Lindsey blushed.

"Forgive me, Majesty.  It is just that I worry about my father."

"As, I am certain, he worries about you.  But it is no more than any
father worries about his daughter."

"Nay, Majesty.  It is much more.  You see, my mother died when I was
very young.  And my father promised her that he would keep me close."

"You are no longer a child."

"But in my father's eyes I will always be that hurt child .... "
Lindsey's voice trailed off as she realized what she had just said.

And though the queen seemed not to notice, Jamie turned to study her
very carefully.  She felt his gaze fully upon her and looked away.

What had she almost said?  Jamie mused.  There was much about herself
she was loath to reveal.  He suspected it had something to do with the
limp that was noticeable only when she became overtired.  Whatever it
was, he would discover it in time.  He would watch and listen.  And one
day, he vowed, he would know all there was to know about this obstinate
little female.

"Dinner is ready, Majesty," Fergus announced in a clear voice.

Mary stood and waited until Lord Darnley approached.  Placing her hand
on his arm she led the way to the refectory.

"My lady?"  Jamie offered his arm.

Lindsey kept her gaze averted as she placed her hand on Jamie's sleeve
and moved along at his side.

"You are good for Mary," he whispered.

"In what way, my lord?"

"She can talk with you about womanly things.  These are not things the
queen could share with me, or even with her husband.  But with you she
is at ease."

He bent close and his breath feathered the hair at her temple, sending
a flurry of tremors along her spine.

"Stay close to her, my lady, and be her friend."

At his words Lindsey felt a pang of guilt.  If he but knew what she
planned.  How unfair it was that she should have to choose between her
father and her queen.  By the time she took her place at the table the
spots of color on Lindsey's cheeks had deepened.

As before, Fergus entered the room carrying a domed silver serving
tray.  When Mistress Macnab lifted the lid, the roast was presented for
the queen's pleasure.

"Ah, Mistress Macnab.  Mutton.  It appears to be roasted to
perfection.

You may serve us.  "

"Thank you, Majesty."  The roast was carved and served, along with
bread still warm from the oven.

Sabina filled their goblets with ale, then placed the decanter in front
of Lord Darnley's plate and fiastily retreated.

"It is cold in here, Fergus," the queen said petulantly.

Immediately a lap robe was brought for her comfort, and Fergus added
another log to the already blazing fire.

"I miss my Maries;" the queen said with a sigh.

"It is lonely here without their laughter."

"You have me," Darnley sneered.

"Aye.  So I have."

"There was a time," Darnley said, taking a long draft of ale, "when
that would have been more than enough to please you.," Mary sensed that
he was goading her into an argument.

Turning to Jamie she said, "Speak to me of Brice Camp bell.  Tell me
how my barbarian fares."

Jamie chose his words carefully.

"When last I saw him, Brice was surrounded by his family and those who
love him."

"Were his wounds healing?"

"He was so recently wounded, it was difficult to deter mine,
Majesty."

Seeing the quick look of fear that darted into her eyes, he added, "But
Brice Campbell is the strong est man I know.  He has been wounded
before, and has recovered."  His hand closed around the stem of his
goblet as he said sternly, "If love alone could heal him, he would
already be recovered.  For I have never known any man to be so beloved
by his family."

Mary placed a hand below her heart.

"Family.  It is what I have always prayed for."  For long moments she
grew silent.  Then, suddenly looking up, she turned to Lindsey.

"Tell me about your family.  I know your father, of course, for he has
many times served at court.  Douglas is a fine man and a favorite of
many at court."

Lindsey beamed at the queen's compliment.

"But his sons never accompanied him," Mary con ting ued.

"Do they favor Douglas, or their mother?"

"They are all so different," Lindsey said, seeing her brothers in her
mind's eye.

"Murray is the eldest and, I suppose, the most like Father.  He is the
first to take up his sword in any battle, and the last to lay it down.
He sees himself as the protector of the clan.  He is quick-tempered and
tends to hold a grudge longer than the rest.  But though he is a fierce
warrior, there is also a gentle side to Murray.

I know that he would lay down his life for us.  "

"Those are the qualities I would wish for my son," Mary said softly.

The queen finished her meal in silence, then signaled Mistress Macnab
to bring the tray of sweets.

As she bit into a tart she said, "Tell me about the others."

"After Murray, there is Donald."  Lindsey's eyes danced with
merriment.

"Donald is the tallest of my brothers.  His hair is darker, as is his
mood at times.  Especially if he has not found a lass to challenge him
in many a day."

Lord Darnley looked up from his ale.

"He loves the lasses, does he?"

"Aye."  Lindsey dimpled.

"And the lasses love him.  It seems no matter where he goes, a female
falls for his charm."  She sobered.

"But there is more to Donald than his looks.  He converses well with
men.  He is a natural leader.  And he is skilled with weapons,
especially the sword."

Mary touched a hand to her stomach and murmured, "I wish these things
also for my son."

She looked up to find Darnley glowering at her.

"The child is mine as well as yours, madame.  I assure you, he will
have all those attributes."

Mary pushed away from the table Darnley, taken by surprise, lumbered to
his feet and offered his arm.  As the queen walked by his side she
said, "We will retire to the withdrawing room, where it is warmer."  To
Fergus, who hovered near the table she called, "Bring the wine,
Fergus.

And some sweets.  "

"Aye, Majesty."  The old man bowed.

"And J an lie Mary called over her shoulder, " bring Lady Lindsey
along.

I would hear more about her family.  "

"Aye, Majesty."

As Lindsey arose and placed her hand on Jamie's arm, she fought back
the frustration that welled within her.  The hour grew late.  And she
yearned to begin her journey to Edinburgh.  But the queen's wish was
truly a command.  She had no choice but to comply.

"You seem impatient, my lady.  Was there something you wished to do
this night?"

Lindsey cast a sideways glance and frowned.

"Nay, my lord.  What would I possibly be planning in this lonely
place?"

"What indeed?"  Placing his hand over Lindsey's, he followed the queen
and her husband from the refectory.

On a chaise positioned in front of the fire, the queen settled herself
comfortably beneath a lap robe.  Fergus poured wine and placed a tray
of sweets on a low table beside the queen's chaise.

"Now, Lindsey," the queen said, nibbling a confection, "tell me about
the rest of your family."

Jamie leaned back, allowing himself to relax for the moment.  As long
as Lindsey entertained the queen, he need not worry.  If only he could
keep them talking all night.

"There is Robbie," Lindsey said softly.

"His hair is fair, as is his nature.  He is our dreamer and poet."

"A poet."  Mary clapped her hands.

"Oh, if only he were here to recite his pretty words."

"He would be honored, Majesty."  Lindsey gave a dreamy smile.

"All his life our Rob has loved books and letters.  He busies himself
with my father's ledgers, keeping accounts of all in the clan.  And
when his work is done, he paints beautiful pictures with his words."

The queen ran a hand lovingly over her swollen body and murmured, "I
would wish that gift for my son."  She looked up suddenly.

"Is there not one more brother?"

"Aye.  Neal."  Lindsey's features softened.

"He is the youngest.  He is already as tall as Donald, but soon will be
even taller.  Each day I see him leaving more of his childhood behind
as he slips on the mantle of manhood."  She paused for a moment, seeing
her youngest brother as clearly as if he was standing before her.

"Neal has mastered most weapons, although his strongest skill is with
the longbow.  He is shy and sweet, more comfortable around animals than
people.  He loves caring for the horses, and had hoped to meet your
stable master, Majesty, when we reached Holy rood.  His disappointment
must have been great when he found his plans thwarted."

The queen turned to study the lass who had suddenly gone silent.

"I can see why you miss them."

"Aye."  Lindsey blinked back a tear and struggled with overwhelming
feelings of loneliness.

"Your family has been much blessed," Mary said softly.

"I would wish all of those qualities you describe for my own son."

Jamie smiled gently.

"He would have to be godlike to possess all the qualities Lady Lindsey
has just described in all her brothers."

Lindsey's sadness lifted as she broke into a smile.

"Aye, Majesty.  And you must remember that I am seeing my brothers from
a distance.  When I am with them, I yearn for the chance to be rid of
them."

They shared a laugh.

Mary turned to Jamie.

"You have met Douglas Gordon's sons, my friend.

What say you?  Has the lady described them honestly?  "

"Aye, Majesty.

"Twas an accurate description.  But she failed to mention the chorus of
voices.  When the entire Gordon clan discourses, it can become a bit
overwhelming

"Is this so?"

Lindsey joined in his laughter.

"Aye, Majesty.  It is true.  We never speak if we can shout.  And if
three or more can shout at one time, we are even happier."

The queen placed her hdnd below her heart.

"This I do not wish for my son."

They all burst into gales of laughter.

From his position beside the fireplace, Jamie watched the queen with a
feeling of relief.  He had never seen her so relaxed.  Or so radiant.

"Are there any-musicians in your family?"  Mary asked.

"Robbie plays the lute.  I was forced to learn the virginal."

"How wonderful."  The queen clapped her hands.

"You must play for us."

She pointed to the small, rectangular instrument that rested atop a
table in the corner of the room.

"Jamie, bring the virginal to As he placed the instrument across
Lindsey's lap, she cautioned, " I much preferred learning the use of
weapons to playing music.  But my father insisted that I must learn to
play this as well as my mother once did.  "

Positioning her fingers on the keyboard Lindsey began to play a
hauntingly beautiful melody.

The queen was enthralled.  Jamie was pleasantly surprised.  Even the
musicians at court had not played as well.  As the last notes of the
music faded, the queen clapped her hands and demanded another song.

Jamie glanced at the chair where Lord Darnley was seated.  His head had
fallen back against the upholstery.  His mouth had gone slack.  The
empty tankard lay beside his elbow.

Jamie gave a sigh of relief.  There would be one less to worry about
this night.  Darnley would sleep until morning, Now there would be only
Lindsey to watch and he had no intention of letting her out of his
sight.

The woman who dominated his thoughts was busy making plans of her own.
Before this night was over, she in tended to be free of her prison.

Chapter Fifteen

Lindsey closed the door to her chambers and leaned wearily against it.
The queen had kept her up half the night playing the virginal.  She had
played every melody she knew a score of times.  And still Mary had not
heard enough.  The queen reluctantly agreed to retire only after
Lindsey promised to entertain her again on the morrow.

Tomorrow, Lindsey thought with a little smile, she would be in
Edinburgh, embracing her father.

She knew it was wrong to lie to one's monarch, but she felt she had no
choice.  She could not, after all, admit what she planned.  Jamie
MacDonald would see her locked in her room if he knew that she
entertained such thoughts.

Jamie.  Her heai't skipped a beat.  He had wanted to escort her to her
chamber after he saw the queen to her suite.  But Lindsey had foiled
his attempts by insisting upon retiring immediately.  She had seen tho
look in his eyes when he watched her.  If she allowed him to kiss her
again, there was no telling what might happen.  She was afraid of the
feelings his simple touch unleashed in her.

She must not allow herself to think of him.  He would be humiliated by
her escape.  Worse, his fury would be a terrible thing to behold.  She
would have to see that she always remained one step ahead of him.  She
dared not face his wrath.

Rushing to the bed, she retrieved the stable boy's clothing, which she
had hidden underneath.  Within minutes she had removed her gown and
petticoats and donned the rough breeches, shirt and tunic.  Tucking her
hair beneath the that, she made her way to the door of the chamber and
listened.  Hearing no sound she pulled it open a crack and peered
out.

The hall was empty.

She made her way carefully down the stairs.  When she reached the lower
level she was startled to hear voices.  Quickly ducking behind a
chaise, she watched and listened as Jamie was met by Justin MacLeod.

"I saw to that little matter, my lord.  They were most grateful to have
their minds set at ease."

"Good," came Jamie's deep voice.

"Did you see that you were not followed?"

"Aye, my lord.  I am certain of it."

"Take your rest now, Justin.  You have earned it."

"Thank you, my lord."

Lindsey watched as the boatman stepped outside, pulling the door closed
behind him.  Jamie stood for a moment, then turned and climbed the
stairs to his room.

When his footsteps faded, Lindsey ran to the front door and let herself
out.

The grounds of Lochleven were washed in moonlight.  Little tufts of
mist danced across the dark waters of the loch.  Cursing the full moon
that would make her clearly visible all the way across the loch,
Lindsey made her way toward the stables.  Once inside she found Jamie's
horse and quickly saddled him.  Then she began to lead him toward the
water that shimmered in the distance.

A night bird cried, and her heart leaped to her throat.  She dropped to
her knees in the wet grass.  As the bird's wings beat the night air
just above her head she felt a rush of relief.  Getting to her feet she
berated herself for her foolish fears.  Why was she being so skittish?
They were alone on this island.  Everyone in their party was asleep in
the castle.  Soon she would be across the loch and on her way to her
father.

As she approached the loch she heard the snap of a twig and turned.  At
first she thought she saw the dark outline of a tree.  But as the dark
form moved toward her, she realized it was not a tree.  Nor an
animal.

It was a man.  And in his hand was a sword, which glinted as the blade
caught and reflected the light of the moon.

Jamie entered the suite of rooms and glanced toward the door of
Lindsey's sleeping chamber.  No light showed be neath it.  It was odd
that she would retire so quickly, he thought.  Especially since she had
slept for most of the day.  She had not seemed particularly sleepy when
they had been below stairs.  In truth, she had seemed brimming with
energy

He strode to the door, then hesitated.  There was a very good reason to
keep his distance from the lady.  Each touch, each stolen kiss had
taught him one important fact.  He could not go on being near Lindsey
Gordon, and tempting himself, without taking her.  He wanted her as he
had never wanted any other woman.  If it took all his willpower to stay
away from her in the daylight, how hauch more difficult would it be
now, with the darkness casting its magic spell?

He let his hand drop to his side.  With great reluctance he stepped
away from her door and strode to his own sleeping chamber.

Once inside, he removed his tunic and shirt and crossed the room to
poke at the ashes and coals that gleamed in the fireplace.  Adding
another log to the embers, he watched as flame leaped along the bark.

Wiping his hands on his breeches, he paused at the balcony window and
stared at the glistening water of the loch far below.  Clouds scudding
across the full moon obscured the grounds of Lochleven, and he began to
turn away.  As the moon broke free of the clouds, however, something,
some movement, caught his eye and he leaned over the balcony, straining
to see what it was.  It appeared to be a man and boy fighting over the
reins of a horse.  Something glinted in the man's hand.  In the
moonlight Jamie recognized the blade of a sword.  And then, as the
figures parted for a moment, he recognized something else.  Something
that sent ice pouring through his veins.

With a savage oath he raced from his room.

"What a shame you chose tonight to go for a ride, lad.  Now you will
have to die."

As the stranger lifted his sword to strike, Lindsey pulled her own
sword from its scabbard and lunged.  The man, caught unawares, felt her
blade slice his arm.  With a string of curses he barely managed to
dodge her second thrust.  But when Lindsey moved in for the kill, he
tossed his weapon aside and caught her hand in a powerful grip.  He
twisted her arm until the sword slipped from her fingers, then, bending
her arm behind her, he dragged her close.

"You may be skilled with a weapon, but you cannot match my strength.

Prepare to meet your maker, lad.  " His breath was hot against her
cheek.

Lindsey saw the blade of the knife as he pulled if from his
waistband.

As they struggled, the that slipped from her head and her hair tumbled
down her back.

For a moment the stranger was taken aback.  Then a cruel laugh escaped
his lips.

"A female.  By the gods, a lass in lad's clothing."  He grabbed a
handful of her hair and yanked her head back until she cried out in
pain.

"And a beautiful lass, at that.  What a pity my mission lies
elsewhere."  He thought a moment, then seemed to come to a decision.

"I

will have to take you quickly.  Maybe, if you please me, you will not
have to die after all.  "

As he bent his face to hers she struggled to evade his lips.

"I would rather die."

"Then you shall have your wish.  It is best to leave no witnesses to
the deed I have in mind."  He laughed, low and deep, sending shivers of
fear along her spine.  He caught her by the front of the tunic and with
his knife slit the fabric of tunic and shirt from top to bottom.  Shame
washed over her and she tried to hold the remnants of her clothing
across her breasts.  He gave a coarse laugh and twisted her hands
behind her.

"There is no need to fight, lass.  It matters not to me how often I
have to hurt you.  But know this.  I will have you.  With or without
causing you pain."

"Then you will have to kill me.  For I will never submit."

She sank her teeth into his hand and he gave a cry of rage as the knife
slipped from his hand and landed at their feet.  Blood was dripping
from his wound.  He brought his hand across her face so hard it sent
her sprawling in the dirt.  With a triumphant oath he dropped to his
knees beside her.  Making a last, desperate effort, Lindsey reached for
the knife, but the stranger was quicker.  As they struggled, the blade
sliced her hand, sending blood SlSurting down her arm and across her
breasts.

Her attacker lifted the knife high in the air and gave a cruel laugh as
she struggled to reach it.

With the knife between his teeth he closed rough, callused hands around
Lindsey'g throat, cutting off her breath.  As she clawed at his hands,
he tightened his grip until strange lights began to dance in front of
her eyes.

"I like a lass with fire," he said with a chilling laugh.

"I can see that you are going to provide me with much pleasure before
you die."

Lindsey struggled for breath.  From the way her attacker's

I image swam in and out of her line of vision, she knew that she was
fading.  Soon there would be no breath left in her, ii and her life
would slowly ebb.  Her nails dug into the earth :?  i' and she balled
both hands into fists.  As he levered himself above her and gave an
evil leer, she tossed dirt in his eyes.  He screamed with pain and
rage.  And in the moment of confusion, Lindsey managed to twist free. 
But as she scrambled to her feet, he caught her by the ankle, pulling
her down. All hope of escape vanished.  His hand swung out in a wide
arc and caught the side of her face, snapping her head to one side.  As
if from a great distance she heard his voice, low with fury.

"Now lass, you will pay with your life."  She saw the blade of his
knife as he lifted it, preparing to plunge it into her heart.

And then she heard a wild, primitive sound, unlike anything she had
ever heard.  In her pain-clouded mind, a vicious creature had come to
rescue her.  A terrifying cry broke the silence of the night.  A cry
that was both animal and human.

Jamie's palms were damp as he threw open the door to the castle and
raced across the wide expanse of grounds that separated him from the
banks of the loch.  He had never known such fear.  As he had watched
the struggle from his balcony, he had seen the that slip and the spill
of hair.

Lindsey.  God in heaven.  It was Lindsey, engaged in battle with a man
twice her size.

The distance between them was too great.  He knew, with wrenching
certainty, that he would never make it in time.  Lindsey's struggles
would only make it worse.  Her attacker would be forced to kill her in
order to subdue her.  For the fiery lass would never give up without a
battle.

As he sped across the grounds his fury grew until it devoured him.  If
he could not save Lindsey, he would avenge her death.  Her attacker
would never live to harm another.

/

He saw the man's hand swing out; saw Lindsey fall to the ground; saw
the man kneel over her.

Consumed by blind fury he raced on, his mind no longer able to form
coherent thoughts.  He knew only that the woman he loved was being
savaged.  And he could not save her.

He saw the man's hand lifted; saw the glint of moonlight on the blade
of the knife.  With a last burst of desperation he gave vent to his
hopeless rage with a cry of torment.  The sound of it filled the night,
along with another, more savage sound.

Jamie stared in amazement as the dark form of Wolf leaped through the
air and landed on the stranger, sending him sprawling.  Shrieks of
anguish rent the silence as man and beast struggled.  The primitive
cries echoed and're echoed on the night air.  And then, as suddenly as
it had all begun, there was only silence.

Jamie knelt over Lindsey's still form.  For one terrible moment his
heart stopped.

Lindsey's eyes were closed.  Her clothes had been torn from her.

Blood and dirt smeared her face, her arms, her breasts.

With great tenderness, he touched a hand to her throat and felt the
feeble pulse.  Alive.  She was alive He expelled a long, unsteady hiss
of breath and drew her into his arms.  At his touch she stirred.  Her
lids fluttered, then opened.

Through the haze of pain she struggled to evade his hands.

He gathered her close t his heart and whispered, "Nay, my lady.  It is
Jamie MacDonald.  You are safe now."

"The man..."

"Lies dead."

"You killed him?"

"Nay, my lady.  I could not reach you in time."

"Then who... ?"

"Wolf."  As if from a distance she heard the heavy panting of the hound
as it stood guard over the lifeless body of her attacker.

From the direction of the stables, Justin MacLeod hurried forward
carrying a torch.  He stared in disbelief at the scene that greeted
him.

"My lord.  What has happened here?"

"It would seem we have an intruder on the island."  Jamie's eyes
glittered with smoldering hatred.

"Do you recognize this man, Justin?"

The boatman strode toward the body, then halted when Wolf growled, low
and deep in his throat.  Glancing at Jamie he whispered, "Do I dare to
go closer, my lord?"

"Aye."  To the animal Jamie called, "Wolf."

The hound dropped to the ground, all the while watching the man who
approached.  When Justin was close enough to see the body, he lifted
the torch and stared for long minutes, then turned to Jamie.

"I have never seen the man before, my lord.  Do you think he followed
me here?"

"It would appear so.  Or mayhap he knew of the queen's plans and has
been waiting for an opportunity to attack.  See to the body, Justin."

"Aye, my lord.  And the animal?"

"He has comported himself admirably, Justin.  He saved the lady's
life.

See that a good portion of game is left in a clearing for him each day.
"

"Aye, my lord."  Justin smiled.

"It will be done."  With great tenderness Jamie lifted Lindsey in his
arms and carded her to the castle.  As he did, the hound watched from
his position beside the body of the stranger.  When the castle doors
closed behind them, Wolf stood, then slowly walked away toward the safe
cover of the forest.

Inside the castle, Genevieve and Fergus Macnab cowered behind closed
doors.  The primitive shrieks that had awakened them had filled them
with terror.  Now, as Jamie approached carrying his burden, Fergus
threw wide the doors to admit him.

"My lord."  Mistress Macnab's voice trembled.

"What has happened?"

"Lady Lindsey has been hurt.  Bring hot water to bathe her wounds and
clean linen to bind them."

"Aye, my lord."

As Jamie climbed the stairs, the two scrambled to pre pare the
necessary items.  A few minutes later, when they entered Lindsey's
sleeping chamber, they found her lying in her bed, with Jamie kneeling
beside her.

"Shall I bathe her wounds, my lord?"

"Nay."  Jamie took the basin of water from Mistress Macnab's hands and
bent to the task

When the two continued to stand and watch, Jamie said abruptly, "Place
the linens on the table mistress, and leave US."

The old woman was about to protest when her husband placed a hand on
her arm and shook his head.  He had seen the look in Jamie MacDonald's
eyes.  It would not be wise to argue with him while he was consumed
with such blazing passion.

Without a word the two servants crept from the room.

Jamie was not even aware that they had taken their leave.  He was aware
of.  but one thing.  Lindsey was alive.  And if he had to tie her to
her bed, he would keep her safe from further harm.

Chapter Sixteen

"Mistress Macnab just told me the news."  With a look of concern the
queen rushed into Lindsey's sleeping chamber, followed by her dour
husband, who for once seemed as animated as his wife.

"Has she awakened yet?"

"Aye."  In deference to his monarch, Jamie scrambled from the chair
beside Lindsey's bed and got to his feet.

"Sit, my friend."  Mary came around the bed and touched a hand to his
shoulder.  Taking a long look at him she added, "You look more like the
victim of an attack than the lass."

At that Jamie managed to grin.

"It is that bad?"  "Aye."

He ran a hand over the stubble on his chin.  His eyes felt as if sand
had been rubbed into them.

"She put in a fearful night."

"Does she know where she is?"

"At times.  At other times she fights her demons."

"Mistress Macnab complains that you will not allow her to aid you."

"She is needed elsewhere.  Lindsey is my responsibility."

Mary turned her gaze fully upon him.  Her tone was so I low it seemed
almost reverent.

"So that is the way of it?  I (i

"Aye."  He stared at the figure lying so still in the bed.  A look of
tenderness softened all his features.

"And I had to nearly lose her before I would admit it."

"I hope she is worthy of such feelings."  The queen squeezed his hand
before turning toward the door.

"I will instruct Mistress Macnab to see that all your meals are brought
to you here."

"Thank you, Majesty."

She gave him a wan smile.

"Nay.  I thank you, Jamie MacDonald.  For restoring my faith in man."

When the door closed behind Mary and Lord Darnley, Jamie sank
gratefully into the chair.  Within minutes he was dozing.

Lindsey felt the bile rise up in her throat as the unknown terror
seized her once more.  She saw the hooded man, so tall, so menacing,
moving toward her.  In his hand was a sword.  She stared in horrified
fascination as the blade caught and reflected the light of the sconces
that adorned the walls of the fortress.

"You must not" -her voice was little more than a whisper "---do
this."

The man laughed, a cruel, chilling laugh, and strode closer.

She did not scream, for he had already, warned her that no servants
would come to her defense.  They were his servants, after all, and he
was her father's avowed enemy.

"I will not have to kill Douglas Gordon," came the man's booming
voice.

"The knowledge of what I have done to his beloved little las will be
revenge enough.  Such knowledge will eat at his soul until he loses the
will to live.  And I will have won the sweetest victory of all.  I will
have destroyed the noble Douglas Gordon.  Without his leader ship, his
fertile lands will be mine.  And his people will be my slaves.  Now,
lass, come here to me."

Lindsey continued to stare at the glittering blade, her young mind in
turmoil.  If she allowed this monster to do what he threatened, his
words would be prophetic.  It would surely break her father's heart.

What would it be like to die?  She was too young to even imagine such a
thing.  But this she knew, despite her youth, despite her innocence.

She must choose death over dishonor.  Her father's bitterest enemy,
Neville Sinclair, must not be allowed to sully her.

"I have been patient long enough," he said through gritted teeth.

"Come here, child."

"Nay."

Lindsey turned and began to run from him.  But there was nowhere to
run, nowhere to hide.  The doors to his chamber were barred.  In a
state of panic she ran to the balcony, then skidded to an abrupt
halt.

Trapped.  She was trapped.  She turned.  Neville Sinclair stood barring
her way.  The only escape now was death.

Without hesitation she climbed onto the wide ledge that ringed the
balcony.  For as far as the eye could see, there were the green,
rolling hills of Sinclai land.  Directly below the balcony was a
courtyard where several horses were tethered.  It was such a long way
down.

Out of the corner of her eye Lindsey saw the man racing across the
balcony toward her.  She inched her way to the very edge of the
ledge.

There would be no second chance.  If he caught her, he was strong
enough to drag her back.

She was suddenly seized with a feeling of peace.  She : had chosen the
right path.  She was certain of it.

Without a word she leaned forward and felt herself falling through
space.  Above her the man's voice was a cry of rage at the child who
had denied him his chance for vengeance.  Below her the courtyard
loomed, the animals shifting nervously as she fell.

She awoke to the sound of a voice weeping.  Her voice.  She was bathed
in sweat.  Strong arms cradled her against a solid wall of chest.  For
long minutes she clung to the gentle giant who held and comforted
her.

Safe.  Though she knew not why, she felt safe with Jamie MacDonald.

Slowly the fear drained from her.  Jamie could feel her gradually relax
against him as the tension was released.

"It was all a terrible dream," she said aloud, her voice trembling.

Jamie had heard too much to be fooled.  The terrors she had relived in
her mind had been too real.

"Have you had this dream often, my lady?"

"Aye.  For many years."

"Do you wish to talk about it?"

She shivered and he drew her closer and pressed his lips to her
temple.

"How much did I reveal?"

"Enough."  He chose his words carefully.

"Enough to know that you were a very brave lass."

He felt the shudders that racked her.

"I was but a child.  Still, the fear of that time lingers.  And so many
things seem to cause the memory to flood my mind."  "I think you must
exorcise this horror from your memory.  Perhaps, by talking about it,
the bad dreams will end."

Lindsey wrapped her arms around him, holding on as if she would fall.

With her lips against his throat she whispered, "I have never spoken of
it."

"Not even to your family?"

"Only once to my father and mother.  We madea pact to never speak of it
again.  My mother warned me that my father could not bear the pain' of
that awful time."

She grew silent and clung to him.

Jamie realized it was up to him to open the floodgates, else the moment
would pass and she would lock her fears away again.

"I have surmised most of it, Lindsey.  You were abducted by your
father's enemy."

"Aye.  Neville Sinclair."

She shivered again as she mentioned his name, and Jamie heard the way
her voice shook.

"He carried me off to his castle and took me to his chambers.  There he
told me what he intended to do to me."

"How old were you?"

"Eight years," she said softly.

"Not old enough to understand everything, but old enough to know that
his intentions were evil."

She began to cry, softly now, as the memories returned.

"But you thwarted him."

"Aye.  I chose to jump to my death rather than submit."  He gathered
her closer.

"And you thwarted even death."

"Aye."  He could hear the tears in her voice.

"My father and his clan arrived in time to see me leap from the
balcony.  Father was certain I would die.  He said his heart stopped.
But though I suffered painful injuries, I lived."

"That is why you sometimes limp."

She nodded and wiped the tears, but they started afresh.

"I shattered my leg.  It mended, but imperfectly.  Each time I limped,
I would see the pain in my father's eyes, and so I had to learn to walk
in such a way that my father would not suffer."  Now Jamie understood
why Douglas Gordon kept his daughter so close.

And he understood Lindsey's determination to return to her
overprotective father, despite the dangers and difficulties of such an
undertaking.

"My father's suffering was greater than mine," she said simply, "for I
was young, and my wounds healed quickly.

"But the wounds in my father's heart have never healed."

"You taught yourself to walk without a limp in order to spare your
father any further suffering."

"Aye.  It was not easy, but it was necessary.  It required great
discipline."

"What an amazing woman you are."

Lindsey pushed herself away to stare at him.  Tears still filled her
eyes.

"I am a coward.  Did you not see?  I still fight this man in my dreams.
And I still weep like a child whenever I am reminded of that time."

"Aye, my fiery little Lindsey.  You do indeed fight your demons.  But
at least you fight; you do not surrender to the fear.  And as for your
weeping..."  He lifted her face and touched his thumbs to the corners
of her eyes.

"It is not only children who cry, my lady.  If anything should happen
to you, I would be racked with tears."

He brushed his lips over each of her eyelids.  It was the sweetest of
kisses, and she felt her heart leap to her throat.

This rough, terrifying giant, known throughout her land as heartless,
caused her to feel things no other man ever had.  Or would.

"Now," he whispered against her temple, "you must rest and heal your
mind as well as your body."

"You will not leave me?"

"Nay, my lady.  You will never again be alone."

He pressed her down against the pillows and drew the linens snugly
around her.  She caught his hand and pressed a kiss to it, and he felt
the flare of heat.

"You will lie here beside me, my lord?"

"Nay, my lady."  He thought of the desire he felt each time he touched
her.  It would not be at.  all safe to lie beside her.

"I will remain here in your chambers and see that you are not alone."

"The dream will come again.  I know it.  And I am so weary of the
fight.  Please, my lord.  Lie beside me."  How could he refuse?

"Aye, my lady."

He drew her into the circle of his arms and closed his eyes.  If indeed
there was a heaven, he had already found it.

Lindsey awoke with a start.  As her lids lifted she could make out the
image of a haggard, unshaven Jamie beside her.  They were lying in each
other's arms, in a most intimate embrace.

Feeling suddenly ashamed, she struggled to push herself free of his
grasp.  His arms tightened around her.

"Are you awake?"  she whispered.

"Nay," came his whispered reply.

"I must be dreaming.  Else how can you explain how we happen to be
sleeping together?"

Heat stained her cheeks.

"Where am I, my lord?  Where have you taken me?"

"To your sleeping chamber."  Seeing the cloud of con fusion still in
her eyes he added with a smile, "In Loch- leven, my lady."

"Aye.  Lochleven."  Then the terror returned.  She sat up, pushing a
tangle of hair from her eyes.

"The man with the sword..."

"Is dead, my lady."  Jamie sat up beside her.

"You killed him?"

"Nay.  It was Wolf who came to your rescue first."

"Wolf."  Lindsey struggled to remember.

"The sound.  It was like a scream, but yet it was like nothing I had
ever heard."

"I was screaming," Jamie explained.

"Screaming to distract the stranger.  But the sound of Wolf's howl may
have drowned out any other sound."

"Who was the man?"

Jamie shook his head.

"No one seems to know.  Can you tell me what he revealed to you?"

Lindsey thought a moment.

"He said it was a shame I had chosen that night to ride."

"So you were not his intended victim?"

"Nay.  I just happened to cross his path."

"Did he say anything else?"

Lindsey struggled to recall everything that had been said.  At length
she shook her head.

"I wish I could recall any thing of value.  But I cannot."

"It matters not, my lady.  The most important thing of all is that you
are safe."

"Thanks to you."  For the first time she noticed that he was
shirtless.

His naked torso rippled with muscles.  She found herself staring at the
mat of hair that covered his chest and tapered to the waist of his
breeches.

"And Wolf."  Seeing the direction of her gaze, his voice warmed.

"Do not forget Wolf."

"Aye."  She felt herself blushing and tore her gaze away.  But as she
lifted her head she found herself staring at his lips.  How close they
were.  How inviting.

"I shall have to see that Wolf is well rewarded for his bravery."

Jamie wondered if she had any idea how tempting she looked in the
delicately embroidered gown that Mistress Macnab had provided.  Though
it covered her modestly, he was well aware of the perfect body beneath
the pristine covering.

"Justin MacLeod assures me that the hound eats better than the
queen."

"He has seen him?"

"Aye.  I ordered him to take fresh game to the clearing near the
loch."

"When I am stronger I will take the food myself.  And Wolf will eat
from my hands."

Jamie laughed.

"You think, because he saved your life, he will now be your pet?"

"It is not a pet I want.  It is a friend who will answer my call when I
need him and sit by my side when I am lonely."

He brustied a lock of hair from her cheek.  His hand lingered over the
softness of her skin.  She saw the way his eyes darkened as he stared
hungrily at her lips.

"I think what you ascribe to Wolf should be the task of a lover, my
lady."

She knew that he was going to kiss her.  And she knew that if he did,
she Would be lost in the wonder of his kisses, She decided that it was
time to test her strength.  The strength she needed to resist all the
strange new feelings that swamped her each time Jamie looked at her
like this.

She pushed herself free of his arms and scrambled from the bed.

Jamie lay back among the pillows, his hands behind his head.  It was so
good to see her up and about.  And yet he could not deny the slight
feeling of regret.  He had treasured those hours alone with her.  He
loved watching her while she slept.  He loved taking care of all her
needs.  She draped a shawl around her shoulders for modesty.  Then she
filled a basin with water.  As she washed her face and arms and lifted
the square of linen to her cheeks, he felt the sudden tug of desire.

He could joyfully spend the rest of his days enjoying such mundane
things as this.  So long as they were shared with Lindsey.  How he
loved being with her.  He loved her.  He could no longer deny that
fact.  And though it complicated his life, it was that simple, he loved
her.  As she brushed the tangles from her hair, she caught sight of him
in the looking glass.  The frown of concentration made her heart
contract.  She was keeping him from his duties to the queen.

She must send him away.  And quickly, i She turned.  I "You seem
exceedingly distracted this morrow, my lord."

"Do I?"  1 "Aye."  She tossed down the hairbrush and strode to the side
of the bed.

"Your duty awaits you below stairs."

"And what of my duty to you?"

"You owe me nothing, my lord.  I am grateful for all that 1 you have
done for me.  But now you must go."

{ "And this is how you show your gratitude?  By throwing { me out of
your chambers?"

he was still frowning, she could hear the hint of J Though teasing
laughter in his tone.  i'

"Aye, my lord.  You have much more important matters to attend to in
the queen's company."

His hand snaked out so quickly she had no time to react.  He pulled her
down on the bed and rolled until he had her pinned beneath him.  With
his lips brushing hers he murmured, "Nothing is as important as
this."

The kiss was long and deep and thorough.  Jamie moved his lips over
hers, thrilling to the way she responded to his kiss.  Her lips parted
for his tongue and he invaded the sweetness of her mouth.  How soft her
lips.  How wild her taste.

She gave a little moan of pleasure and he shifted slightly.  His hand
plunged into the tangles of her hair, and he drew back a moment to
study the way she looked.  Clean.  Fresh.  She was a breath of air in
his battle-weary life.

He bent his lips again to hers and felt the tremors that she could not
hide.

"Are you afraid, my lady?"  he murmured against her lips.

"Aye.  I--should not feel this way."

"What way?"  With his finger he traced the outline of her lips and felt
them tremble beneath his touch.

"As if I were on fire.  As if I had just run across a meadow and cannot
catch my breath."

He touched a hand to her heart and cbuld feel her thundering pulse "Oh,
my lady.  It is the most natural thing in the world to feel this
way."

"Do you feel it too, my lord?"

In reply he framed her face with his hands and drew her to him.  His
mouth came down on hers and he devoured her with his kiss.

Lindsey's heartbeat thundered in her temples.  Her breathing was ragged
and painful.  Her arms closed around his waist, drawing him so close
she could hear his heart, beating as erratically as her own.

Jamie knew that he had gone too far.  Yet he wanted !  i, more.  He
wanted all.  As his lips plundered hers he drew on his last ounce of
willpower.

He lifted his head and studied the way she looked, her lips warm and
moist, her lids heavy with passion.  He knew he played a dangerous
game. Soon there would be no turning back.

"I will leave you to your rest, my lady.  Mistress Macnab will be here
soon with your meal."

Lindsey lay in the middle of the bed and watched as he strode from the
room.  The taste of him still lingered on her lips.  The need for him
caused an odd trembling sensation that left her weak.

Chapter Seventeen

So, Lindsey, you have decided to join the living.  " The queen looked
up with pleasure when Lindsey entered the refectory on Jamie's arm.

"Aye, Majesty.  I have been pampered too long."

Fresh from her bath, Lindsey looked radiant in a gown of emerald satin.
Her long hair had been brushed to one side and allowed to fall over her
shoulder where it spilled across her breast.

Though her wounded hand was healing nicely Jamie had insisted that she
wear a clean linen dressing on it.

When they reached the table Jamie held her chair.

"Everyone has been so kind," Linds6y said as she took her seat.

"We were all very concerned."

Mary signaled the housekeeper, who, having been warned to dispense with
the formalities, began to serve their plates as soon as they' were all
seated.

"To think there was a villain hiding out on our island.  My lord
MacDonald said you fought bravely."  The queen regarded Lindsey closely
as she bit into the roast duck.

"I do not know how bravely.  I know only that I fought with
desperation."

"You are too modest.  It is fortunate that you knew how !i

I would have been at his mercy," the queen said to fight.

thoughtfully.

The others at the table grew silent.  That thought had crossed their
minds.

"How is it that you chose such a late hour to go riding?"  Mary pinned
Lindsey with a direct look.

Lindsey swallowed.  She had anticipated the question.  And she had
prepared herself for the queen's wrath when she answered truthfully.

"I was planning to return to Edinburgh, Majesty."

"Against my orders?"

"Aye, Majesty."

"For what purpose?"

"To calm my father's fears.  I knew he would be shattered by my
absence."

"You would risk your queen's safety by revealing our location?"

"Nay, Majesty.  I would die rather than do such a vile thing.  It was
my intention only to allay my father's fears.  I would not have told
him where you were.  I would have my tongue cut out before I would
place you in harm's way."

The queen studied her bowed head for several moments before saying
softly, "Your father must have a very tender heart, my lady, that you
would risk even the queen's wrath."

"Aye, Majesty."  Jamie felt the unexpected need to come to Lindsey's
defense.  He knew how the lass must be suffering.

"He has a most tender heart where his daughter is concerned."

"She seems to have that effect on other men, as well."  Jamie clamped
his mouth shut at the queen's knowing look, and they all fell silent
until they finished their meal.  No one, it seemed, had much appetite
for Mistress Mac- nab's fine cooking.

"I would retire to the withdrawing room," the queen announced.

Taking Lord Darnley's arm, she led the way, with Jamie and Lindsey
following.

In the cozy room, Fergus stoked the fire, then offered goblets of wine
before departing.

A moment later Mistress Macnab bowed her way into the room.

"Forgive the interruption, Majesty, but I have a message for Lord
MacDonald."

Jamie excused himself and followed the housekeeper from the room.

Mary, resplendent in a scarlet gown, reclined on a chaise pulled before
the fire.  Lindsey steeled herself against the queen's anger, which she
was certain would spill over at any moment.

"My lord MacDonald was most solicitous when you were wounded, my lady."
Mary's lips curved up in a hint of a smile.

"Mistress Macnab informed me that he was like a wounded bear when he
arrived at the castle with you in his arms.  He shouted orders to
everyone before locking himself away with you in your chambers."

Lindsey felt the color rise to her cheeks.

"He was very kind to me during my distress."  " " He was much more than
kind.  He behaved like a man possessed.  He.

would not permit Mistress Macnab or her family to tend to your needs.
"

"But my clothes were..."  Lindsey stopped, appalled at the thoughts
that leaped to her mind.  It was obvious that she had been stripped of
her torn and tattered stable boy's clothes and dressed in a fine night
shift.  She had supposed that Mistress Macnab or Sabina had seen to
such intimate care.

"Jamie insisted upon doing everything himself.  And when I visited him
in your sleeping chamber..."  Mary saw the look of surprise on
Lindsey's face and said coyly,

"Aye, I wanted to see for myself how you were mending."  ,t i She fixed
Lindsey with a narrow gaze.

"Jamie looked to be the one who had engaged in battle.  His eyes were
red- rimmed, his chin covered with stubble.  He had not even bothered
to dress himself.  His only thought, my lady, was for your well-being."
Lindsey wondered if the turmoil she felt at the queen's words could be
seen in her eyes.

"I

am--grateful, of course, for his concern.  "

"Come here, Lindsey.  Sit by my side."  The queen patted the chaise.
Lindsey hesitated, then hurried across the room to sit beside her. 
Mary seemed to be studying her very carefully.

"I have known Jamie MacDonald for many years.

There are few men for whom I have such admiration.  " Mary's voice
lowered, and she glanced to where Darnley stood, filling his tankard.

"Jamie MacDonald is a rare breed.  His loyalty is absolute.  His
strength is boundless.  His word is true.  I have seen many women at
court vie for his attention."  She smiled at the little frown line that
appeared between Lindsey's brows.  So, the lady was not as immune to
his charms as she would pretend.

"But his is not a fickle heart.

His interest does not lie in silly flirtations or cheap liaisons.  I
have always known that once Jamie gave his heart to a woman, it would
be for ever.  " Lindsey lowered her head and said nothing.  But the
words the queen had just spoken had her mind awhirl.  She looked up
when Jamie returned.  Though he was silent, there was an odd, satisfied
look on his face.  Lindsey saw him exchange glances with the queen.  A
minute later Fergus Macnab entered with a bow and announced, " Majesty,
your guests have arrived.  Shall I announce them?  " Guests?  Lindsey
was mystified.  Had they not all gone to great lengths to see that no
one knew where they were?

Why then would the queen invite guests to Lochleven?  She turned toward
the door with a puzzled frown.

"Majesty," Fergus said in his most authoritative tone, "may I present
my lord Douglas Gordon and his sons Murray, Donald, Robert and Neal.
And my lord Ian MacPherson."

It took Lindsey a full minute to comprehend what Fergus had just
announced.  As the truth dawned, she got to her feet and brought her
hands to her mouth.  Bowing before their queen were her father and
brothers and Ian.  All were clad in their finest breeches and tunics,
with their traveling cloaks still tossed rakishly over their
shoulders.

They continued to kneel for several moments while the queen spoke in
whispers to each of them.  When at last Mary commanded them to rise,
their beaming faces told Lindsey everything she needed to know.

"Father."  With tears streaming down her cheeks, Lindsey launched
herself into her father's arms.

His eyes were moist as he drew her close and kissed the top of her
head.

"So, lass.  Another adventure?"  he murmured as he held her a little
away and studied her face.

"Aye.  But it is so much better now that you are here to share it."

He caught her bandaged hand and brought it to his lips.

"You are wounded."

"Nay.  A small cut.  It is nothing."  She snatched it away and, eager
to distract him, turned toward her brothers.

"Murray."

The eldest wrapped her in his big arms and nearly smothered her in his
warm embrace.  Then, embarrassed by his show of affection, he quickly
released her.

Donald lifted her high in the air and swung her around until she
laughingly ordered him to put her down.

"I missed you," he shouted.

"And I missed you.  You must tell me later all about your adventures
with the lasses in Edinburgh."

"Aye."  His voice lowered to a whisper.

"If you will tell me about yours with the Heartless MacDonald."

Lindsey was shocked.

"You are mistaken.  I am here at the command of the queen."

"Aye, Lindsey.  And the fact that Jamie MacDonald is here has nothing
at all to do with it."

Ignoring his taunts, Lindseyo turned to Robbie's out stretched arms.

The golden-haired lad drew her close and kissed her cheek.

"You had us half-crazed with worry," he whispered.

"Forgive me.  But you can see that I am fine."

"Aye."  Robbie stared deeply into her eyes until she felt her cheeks
grow hot.

"I can see that you are more than fine.  You look ... you look more a
woman than the lass who left the Highlands for a wee journey to
Edinburgh."

She flushed and turned away from his scrutiny to her youngest
brother.

"Neal.  I have missed you so."

He gave her an awkward embrace.

"I missed you, too, Lindsey."  He patted her shoulder in a clumsy
gesture of affection and gave her a quick, hard kiss, then drew away,
embarrassed at the film that misted his eyes.

The queen watched their warm reunion with great inter est.  This love
and easy affection was something she was i!  determined to give the
babe she carried.

From across the room Jamie watched as Ian separated himself from the
others and caught Lindsey's hand.  He 1 gave her a long, lingering look
before lifting her hand to ; his lips.

"So, my lady.  It seems we are fated to be together i again."

Lindsey gave him a warm smile.

"So it would seem."  Ian continued to hold her hand.  Jamie's frown
deepened.

"We all grieved your unexpected departure, my lady.  i

And I, for one, was prepared to ride to the ends of the earth to find
you.  "

"I am.  grateful for your concern, Ian."  She withdrew her hand and
turned to include her family.

"And I deeply regret the unhappiness I caused all of you."

"We are together now," Douglas said, opening his arms to his
daughter.

"And Jamie's message that you were safe with him allayed all our
fears."  "Message?"

"Aye.  He dispatched Justin MacLeod to tell us that you were in the
queen's company."

Lindsey glanced at Jamie with a look of astonishment.  This was one
more kindness of which she had been un aware, and his gesture of
concern touched her deeply.

"Mistress Macnab," the queen called.

"Bring refreshments for our guests.  Theirs has been a long and arduous
journey, as we well know."

"Aye, Majesty."

The housekeeper hurried away.  Within a short time, the sideboard was
groaning-under the weight of silver trays bearing cold duck and mutton,
hot crusty breads and tankards of hot mulled wine.

Lindsey watched with affection as her father and brothers ate great
quantities of food and downed more than a few tankards of wine.  At
last, refreshed, they were content to pull their chairs in a circle
around the queen and bask in the warmth of her presence.

"You spoke of a missive from me," Mary said to Ian.

"Aye, Majesty."

With a smug look Ian turned to glance at Jamie.  Pulling the rolled
parchment from his tunic, he bowed and presented it to Mary.

She read it quickly, then looked up to study the hand some young man
who knelt before her.

"So you are Ian MacPherson.  You were highly recommended to me by my
cousin, Lord Desmond Frazer, who told me that you served him well.  You
are welcome here at Lochleven," Mary said.

"Your skill with a sword as well as your love and loyalty are sorely
needed.  Your presence here should greatly relieve the burden of my
good friend Jamie MacDonald who has been seeing to my safety."

Ian turned and gave Jamie a measured look.  Jamie, who stood alone
beside the fireplace, scowled into his tankard.  But moments later,
while the others were talking, Ian sidled up to Jamie and said, "I
believe you owe me an apology."

"And you shall have it."  Ian smiled, but the smile quickly turned to a
scowl when Jairtie concluded, "When I am convinced of your loyalty to
the queen."

"That is heresy.  Since when do you place yourself above the queen?"

Jamie's voice was low, controlled, "Beware, Ian MacPherson.  I do not
play the fool."

"Nor do I. I will have your apology."  Ian emptied his tankard and
turned away.

"Or your blood upon my sword."

Jamie moved not a muscle as the arrogant youth stalked away.

Unaware of the tensions, the queen turned to the handsome, white-haired
leader of his clan, who sat surrounded by his family.

"Tell me, Douglas, what are they saying in Edinburgh about my absence
from Holyrood?"

"There are many rumors, Majesty."  The older man placed his hands on
his knees and leaned forward.

"There are those who say you have fled to England, and are now under
the protection of your cousin, Elizabeth."

At that the queen laughed.

"So they think I have fled to England?  What else do they say?"

"Some say yours is a difficult confinement, Majesty, and that you
reside with a physician in attendance at Stirling Castle."  "Ah.
Stirling."  Mary threw back her head and laughed.

"Aye, and well they should think that.  It is where I was crowned Queen
of Scots when just an infant."

"Aye, Majesty.  It is natural that you should want to're turn to those
happier places to await the birth of your child."

Mary placed her hand over Douglas Gordon's.

"Do you think anyone suspects that I am here?"

"I heard no such rumors, Majesty."

"Then I am safe, praise heaven."

Douglas glanced over the queen's bowed head to meet Jamie's gaze.  He
shook his head slightly.  His gesture was not lost on Lindsey.  She
felt a tremor of fear for her queen.

In a much lighter mood, Mary turned to the handsome young men who
surrounded their father.

"Lindsey has told me much about you.  I feel as if I already know you.
Let me see..."  She studied the four, then turned to Murray.

"You are the eldest, Murray.  Is that not so?"

"Aye, Majesty."  Murray flushed with pleasure.

"You are the most like your father.  And you," Mary said, turning to
Donald, "are the one who makes all the lasses' hearts flutter."

Donald was not the least insulted by his image as a wencher.  But he
was surprised that the queen should know such a thing about him.

"Aye, Majesty.  I am.  fond of women."  "You, Robert, are the poet."

"Aye," Robbie said.

"And I know that, having met my queen, I will be moved to write many
inspiring verses to your beauty."  ;

Mary's smile grew.

"I cannot wait to hear your poetry."  She turned to the shy lad who
ducked his head when she looked at him.

"You are Neal," the queen said.

"Your sister tells me that you love caring for horses."

"Aye, Majesty."  His cheeks were as bright as the queen's gown.

"I have put off riding here at Lochleven, because my stable master did
not accompany me.  But while we are here, you shall be my stable
master."

"Majesty."  Neal fell to his knees before her and, overcome with
emotion, caught her hand and kissed it.

Mary was touched by his devotion.

She turned to his father.

"Ah, Douglas.  Would that life could always be this simple.  And yet,
though I long yearned for some time away from the pressure of ruling my
people, I find I miss the pomp and ceremony at court."  She
brightened.

"Do you remember the time you helped me greet the Emperor of Spain?"

"Aye, Majesty.  You ordered me to match him drink for drink.  Little
did you know how much wine he could hold."

Mary laughed until she wiped tears from her eyes.

"Or how little you could hold, Douglas.  As I recall, you had to be
helped to your chambers."

Lindsey glanced from her father to the queen, then back again.  In her
father's eyes was a light of laughter that had long been missing.

While the fire blazed and the goblets were filled, Mary regaled them
with stories about life at court, often asking Jamie or Douglas to
interject their comments.  Lindsey and her brothers found themselves
laughing often.  None of them had realized just how dear a friend their
father was to the queen.

Stifling a yawn, the queen got slowly to her feet.

"I must retire for the night," she said.

"I find that I tire easily these days."

Immediately everyone stood at attention.  The men bowed.  Lindsey
curtsied.

"But on the morrow, Neal, you and I will ride the grounds of
Lochleven."

"Aye, Majesty."  The lad's eyes were bright with pleasure.

"It will be my honor."

The queen shot a glance at her husband, who reluctantly set down his
tankard and crossed the room to offer his arm.  Everyone remained
standing until the door closed behind them.

As soon as they were alone, Murray clapped a hand on his father's
shoulder and said, "You old dog.  You never told us that you and the
queen were such close friends."

Douglas gave a negligent shrug of his shoulders and emptied his
tankard.  But though his words were humble, there was a twinkle in his
eye as he said absently, "I thought you knew.  In my younger days I
spent much time at court.  But like Jamie MacDonald, my heart lay in
the Highlands."

"But you were never boastful of your close friendship.  Most men would
have used their relationship with the queen to acquire favors or
power."

Douglas dropped an arm around his eldest son's shoulders.

"My son, I need neither favors nor power.  That is why my friendship
with Mary is an easy one.  I value my queen for who she is; not for
what she can give me."

The housekeeper, looking flushed and untidy, entered and bowed before
Douglas Gordon.

"My lord, I have prepared rooms for you and your sons, and my Lord
MacPherson.  If you would follow me, I will offer them for your
approval."

Lindsey's heart went out to the little woman and her daughter, who had
probably worked themselves into a frenzy seeing that enough rooms were
prepared for so many unexpected guests.  With no servants to assist
them, they must be nearly exhausted by the additional work.

Ian, seeing the way Jamie was watching Lindsey, gave a smug smile and
caught Lindsey's hand.

"Would you care to join us on a tour of our rooms, my lady?"

She felt weary beyond 15elief.  But this was, after all, her father's
first night at Lochleven.  With the queen retired for the night, it was
her duty to act as hostess.

"Aye.  I would be happy to join you."

Before Lindsey could move to her father's side, Ian placed her hand on
his arm and closed his hand firmly over it.  Lindsey was forced to move
along at his side.

Turning to Jamie, Douglas extended his hand.

"Thank you for keeping my daughter safe."

The two men shook hands solemnly, and Lindsey's brothers followed suit,
before following the housekeeper up the stairs.

Ian flashed Jamie a triumphant smile before leaning close to Lindsey
and whispering loudly, "When we have inspected our rooms, my lady, I
will see you to your room."

When he began to lead her past Jamie, Lindsey paused.

"Good night, my lord."

Jamie inclined his head slightly.

"Good night, my lady."  Together, Lindsey and Ian climbed the stairs.
But as they followed Mistress Macnab toward the far end of the hall,
where the rooms had been prepared, Lindsey suddenly reaiized she had
forgotten something very important.

"My lord, I must see the queen."

"Now?"  Ian gave her a startled look.

"She has retired for the night."

"Aye.  But this cannot wait.  I must see her now."

Ian accompanied Lindsey along the hall until they reached the queen's
chambers.  His knock was answered by the queen's voice from within.

"Who is there?"

"Lindsey Gordon, Majesty."

"Enter."

Ian opened the door and stood aside to allow Lindsey to enter.  When
she stepped inside, she barred his way.

"Good night, my lord."

"Good night, my lady."  He lifted her hand to his lips and allowed the
kiss to linger until she withdrew her hand and pulled away.

Ian gave a sigh of regret.  His plans to get Lindsey alone had been
thwarted.  But there would be other chances.

The sitting chamber and dining room of the queen's suite were in
darkness.  But beyond, in the queen's sleeping chamber, Lindsey could
see the flickering light of candles.

When she reached the doorway, she paused.  The queen, with Sabina's
help, had changed to an ornate lace sleeping gown.  Over it she wore a
crimson robe of cut velvet.

Mary was seated before a looking glass.  Sabina stood behind her,
brushing her long red hair.

"What did you wish, Lindsey?"

Lindsey felt suddenly shy in front of her queen.  With her head bowed
she said, "I was so overjoyed to see my family, Majesty, that I
neglected to thank you properly.  You must know what their presence
here means to me.  How can I ever thank you for your kindness?"

"You thank the wrong person."  The queen met her gaze in the looking
glass.  With a gentle smile she said, "I thought you knew, my lady.  It
was not I who sent for your father and brothers, though, of course, I
gave my approval

The other woman saw the questioning look that came into Lindsey's eyes,
and her smile grew.

"Aye, Lindsey.  It is Jamie MacDonald you must thank."

Chapter Eighteen

Jamie.  As Lindsey made her way down the darkened hall, her heart sang
with the knowledge.  It was not the queen who had arranged for her
family's visit; it was Jamie.  Sensing her anguish, he had done the one
thing that would set her mind at ease.

Why was she surprised by his unexpected kindness?  And so touched by
it? It was like him to do such a thing.  There was a goodness in him, a
kindness that belied his fearsome appearance and his reputation for
heartlessness.  Perhaps that was why she loved him so.

She stopped dead in her tracks.  Loved him?  Could it be?  Her eyes
filled with tears and she wiped at them furiously.  She must be more
weary than she thought.  Aye.  There could be no other reason for the
sudden rush of foolish emotion.  She found herself weeping again.

She was not being foolish, she thought with sudden in sight.  She loved
Jamie MacDonald.  Aye, truly loved him.  Though she did not know how or
when it had happened .  she knew it was so.  She knew it when she had
awakened to find him by her side, offering her comfort.  She knew it
when he kissed her and the icy fear around her heart melted.  A fear
that she had carried for all those long years.  She knew it when she
looked into the handsome face of

Ian MacPherson and felt nothing.  No other man would ever tempt her. 
No man except Jamie MacDonald.

Love.  The thought terrified her.  It altered everything.  What could
she do about this strange new situation?  How could she possibly go on
sharing a suite of rooms with a man and pretend she did not have these
feelings?  How could she calmly sit across the room from him and not
blurt out the words?

Her footsteps quickened.  The lilt of laughter bubbled to her lips. 
She had to see him.  This very instant.  She needed to see if he would
look---different somehow.

At their sitting chamber she threw open the door and strode inside.

She experienced fleeting disappointment when the room was empty.

Without thought to what she was doing, she bounded across the room to
the door of Jamie's sleeping chamber.  With a quick knock she flung the
door wide and stepped inside.

Jamie had removed his tunic and shirt.  He stood on the balcony, his
thoughts as dark as the waters of the loch far below.

He was aware of the devious game that Ian MacPherson was playing.  But
he could not be a party to it.  MacPherson was aware that he cut a fine
figure.  And he was very good at pretty words and lingering looks that
were meant to set a maiden's heart all aflutter.

Jamie's hand clenched around the stem of his goblet.  If such things
impressed Lindsey, then there was nothing to be done about it but to
turn away.  And whatever grief he felt, no one would be the wiser.  At
least he had not made a fool of himself by dee!  ing his love.

When his door was thrown open, he turned.  For long moments he could
not believe his eyes.  The object of his tortured thoughts stood before
him, smiling as if she had just learned a great secret.

Now what was she up to?

Lindsey came rushing into Jamie's sleeping chamber,

then skidded to an abrupt halt.  Her eyes widened.  What had she been
thinking of?  From her position by the door way, she could see that he
had prepared himself for sleep.  He was in a state of undress.

Moonlight streamed through the balcony window, casting him in
mysterious silvery light and darkened shadow.  As always, he was
scowling at her.  She suddenly felt shy and awkward.

"Forgive me, my lord.  I..."  Her brain seemed to have gone numb.  She
could think of no plausible reason for such uncivilized behavior.

"I

was told by the queen that you were responsible for bringing my father
and brothers here to Lochleven.  I wanted to thank you.  "

"You are most welcome."

"I had thought to wait until the morrow to offer my thanks, but my
heart was too joyous to wait that long.  I had to thank you now, before
I retired for the night.  Else, I could never sleep."  She was
babbling, she knew, but she could not seem to stop herself.  She had a
terrible need to fill the silence With silly prattle.

He said nothing.  He merely stared at her with that strange, haunted
look.

"Well, I" -she twisted her hands nervously and turned toward the door
"--am keeping you from your sleep, my lord."

"Nay."  He quickly crossed the room and placed a hand on her sleeve to
stay her departure.

"I am not tired, my lady.  I was merely looking over the grounds of
Lochleven and thinking of the Highlands."

She felt his hand, warm upon her arm, and her heartbeat quickened.

"Do you miss the Highlands?"

"Aye."

"As do I."

"You?"  He smiled suddenly, erasing the frown that until then had her
paralyzed with fear.

"After planning and scheming to journey to Edinburgh, you miss the
High lands?"

"Aye."  She looked away, unable to bear the fact that he was laughing
at her.  How could he be so cruel, when her heart was brimming with
such love?

"My heart will always lie in the Highlands."

"As will mine."

She swallowed.  There was nothing more to say.

As if sensing her uneasiness, he broke the silence.

"Will you have some ale, my lady?"

Before she could respond he crossed to a sideboard and filled a goblet.
Handing it to her he said, "We will drink to the safe arrival of your
family."

"Aye."  She gave him a warm smile before lifting the goblet to her
lips. The ale heated her blood.  She took an other sip.

"Did your father approve of his rooms?"

Lindsey shrugged.

"I do not know.  When I realized that I had forgotten to thank the
queen, I left the others and went to her chambers.  It was she who told
me of your kindness."

He felt a lightness around his heart.  She had' not gone with Ian
MacPherson to his suite of rooms.  Had gone, in fact, no farther than
the queen's chambers.  There would have been no time for MacPherson to
stdal a kiss.

He caught her hand and led her to the balcony.  She was so happy just
to feel his touch upon her, she followed with a light heart.

On the gentle breeze was the tang of the river and the perfumed
fragrance of spring flowers.

"It is pleasant to watch the loch by moonlight."  He suddenly
pointed.

"Look.  There."

Lindsey followed his direction and saw a shooting star making its
glittering path across the velvet sky.

"It is said to bring anything you wish for," she murmured fervently.

She closed her eyes for a moment and Jamie had to fight | the urge to
haul her into his arms and kiss her until she ] was breathless.  He
leaned a hip against the balcony and studied her.

Light from the moon bathed her in a golden halo.  On the breeze her
hair was a silken veil, glinting with sparks of fire.  Her eyes
reflected the starlight, glittering like emeralds.  There was a
luminous quality about her this night that he had never noticed before.
He had gone quiet again.  When he was like this, Lindsey could think
of nothing to say.

"Why do you stare at me like that, my lord?"  Very deliberately he set
down his goblet and took a step toward her.  As he did, she took a step
back.

"I like looking at you, my lady.  It pleases me to look at you:" She
felt her cheeks flame and was grateful for the night that would hide
her blushing reaction to his words.  He took another step toward her,
but as she backed away she felt the scrape of the cold stone against
her hips.  He took the goblet from her hands.  Her heart leaped to her
throat.

"I fear, my lady," he murmured as his hands settled on her shoulders,
"that I must kiss you .... " He dragged her close.  His eyes shone with
a strange light.

"Or go mad."

His mouth closed over hers.  Heat flowed between them.  Each felt the
jolt.  And each struggled to deny it.  This kiss was different from all
that had gone before.  This time there was more than passion, or
desire, or need.  Now there was knowledge and something more.

Possession.

His lips moved over hers, seeking, giving.  His strong hands drew her
closer, until she was pressed firmly to his chest.  Her heart
thundered. As did his.  She was suddenly terrified of the feelings that
tumbled through her.  Feelings that left her dazed and shaken.  She
wanted to go on kissing him like this until dawn light streaked the
sky.  She wanted him to take her higher, higher than she had ever been
before.  But she was afraid.

Pushing herself free of his embrace she whispered, "I must leave here
at once."

"Nay."  He caught her arm, but she shook off his hand and nearly ran in
her eagerness to escape If she did not flee, she would be lost.  Lost
to a passion that she did not yet understand.

He watched as she sped across the room and flounced out in a flurry of
skirts and petticoats.  For long minutes he stared at the door that
closed behind her.

He picked up his goblet, but his hand shook so badly he spilled the
ale.  With a savage oath, he hurled the goblet from the balcony,
Seconds later he heard it shatter on the courtyard below.

"Good morrow, my lady."

Ian paused at the head of the stairs and waited until Lindsey and Jamie
joined him.  Inwardly Lindsey groaned.  Outwardly she was poised and
polite as she placed her hand on his proffered arm.  Jamie trailed
behind them.  The furrow between his brows left no doubt as to his
feelings.

"You are up early, my lady."

"Aye."  Lindsey thought about the long hours she had tossed and turned
in her bed, her thoffghts in turmoil.  Finally she h-d given up all
attempts to sleep.

When they entered the refectory, Lindsey was surprised to find her
father and brothers already seated around the queen and her husband.

"I had thought you would sleep late after your journey," she said as
she took a seat beside Robbie.

Ian quickly took the seat to her other side, forcing Jamie to take a
place across from them.

"I could not sleep," Neal admitted, "knowing that today I will be
privileged to groom and saddle the queen's own horse."  '

"Aye.  And Neal saw to it that I could not sleep," Robbie said with a
laugh.

"Which meant that we were awakened," Donald said, glancing for
confirmation at Murray, who nodded his head.

Joining in the laughter, Douglas added, "And with all the voices
complaining and boots hitting the floor, my sleep ended as well."

Lindsey leaned back in her chair.  A smile of pure delight curved her
lips.  This was what she had missed.  This chorus of voices.  They were
like a symphony.  Aye.  A symphony of love.  How could she help but
love these men?

Jamie saw the smile on her face and joined her.  When she realized that
he shared her secret, her smile grew.  Aye.  Jamie understood what her
family meant to her.

Seeing the two of them, Ian said sharply, "What amuses you, my lady?

Have I missed something that was saidT' Lindsey merely shook her head
and pretended to eat.  It pleased her that she and Jamie shared a
secret from the others.  She could not bear to share it with anyone
else.  She pushed her plate aside.  For some strange reason, she had
lost her appetite.

When they had broken their fast, the queen smiled at Neal.

"When my--stable master has my mount ready, I will ride."

"Aye, Majesty."  Neal was on his feet at once.

"I shall come to fetch you as soon as I have your horse groomed
saddled."  iii and'I should like Lindsey to join us," the queen
called.

Lindsey could not hide her pleasure.  But she was startled when Ian
said, "Would I be too bold if I were to ask to join you as well,
Majesty?"

Mary turned.  Seeing Ian's boyish look of eagerness, she could not
resist.  But when she caught sight of Jamie's frown of displeasure, she
nearly laughed aloud.  So, these two young stallions wanted the same
mare.  What fun it would be to watch them vie for the lady's
attention. Oh, she would enjoy this day immensely.  Life had become far
more interesting since their small band had grown larger.

"Aye, you are indeed bold, Ian MacPherson."  Mary's haughty tones gave
way to delighted laughter.

"But I like a man who knows how to slip past protocol at times.  Aye.
You may accompany me on my ride."

"I am most grateful, Majesty."  He made a grand bow and kept his head
lowered until the queen swept past him.

"I will be in the withdrawing room.  Come, Douglas," Mary said, placing
her hand on his arm.

"I would speak with you about several matters."

"Aye, Majesty."

Lindsey watched as her father and the queen exited the refectory.  When
she glanced at Lord Darnley, she saw his barely concealed look of fury
at being excluded from his wife's company.

Lindsey descended the stairs wearing a riding gown of emerald velvet
and a matching green cloak lined wither mine, which Mistress Macnab had
found for her among the trunks.

As he watched her, Jamie thought he had never seen anyone so lovely.

Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm for the ride.  On her lips was a
smile of pure pleasure.

"Why do you not join us?"  she asked Jamie.

"I regret I cannot.  Your father wishes to speak to me about--several
matters."

"It is a pity that you must always attend to such dull matters when I,"
she said with a laugh, "have every intention of playing."

It cheered him to see her so happy.  But his smile suddenly faded when
Ian MacPherson appeared, wearing black breeches and a crimson cape
flung rakishly over his shoulder.  Ian held the door for Lindsey, then
bent to whisper something in her ear.  The sound of her laughter was
like a knife twiting in Jamie's heart.

He stood at the window and watched as the queen and her party took off
at an easy trot.  Then he reluctantly turned and went in search of
Douglas Gordon, who awaited him in the lib'ary.

The queen was in high spirits.  She had been sequestered far too
loflg.

Now, suddenly, she was free to ride the beautifully manicured paths of
Lochleven.  And when she tired of the safe trails, she could always
venture into the surrounding woods.

"Are you a skilled rider, Lindsey?"

"A fair one, Majesty."

"Would you care to race me?"  Lindsey'S eyes crinkled.

"Aye, Majesty."

The queen pointed to the maze of hedges and formal plantings that
surrounded the castle.

"The first one through the maze wins.  I will take Neal with me as a
guide, and you will take Ian."

Lindse)' nodded, her blood already heating at the thought of a race.

"Beware Lindsey," the queen said with a smile.

"There are many paths in the maze, but only one leads back to the
beginning.  Your guide must make decisions in the blink of an eye. And,
to make it more interesting, I think we should make a wager."

"Aye, Majesty.  Name your price."

The queen smiled.  This was too easy.

"Ten gold sovereigns."

"Ten..."  Lindsey arched a brow.  The queen did not play for small
stakes.

"Aye, Majesty."

"Then let the race begin."

The qoeen wheeled her mount and entered the maze, with Neal by her
side.  Just behind her rode Lindsey, with Ian beside her.  Though the
queen and Neal turned left into the first hedgerow, Ian caught
Lindsey's bridle and urged her to turn right.  They rode at breakneck
speed through the maze, twisting and turning with amazing skill.

"I believe we are lost," Lindsey called to the man beside her.

"Nay, my lady.  Trust me.  I have an instinct for such things."  He
pointed to a turn ahead, and they took it with out pausing.

Within minutes they had broken free of the maze and reined in their
mounts.  It was several minutes more before the queen, with Neal by her
side, came thundering toward them.

As they pulled alongside, Mary said wryly, "I see that my young stable
master knows more about this maze than I."  She leaned over and patted
his hand, a gesture that caused him to blush clear to his toes.

"He bade me turn right, but I refused, thinking I knew better.  That
misjudgment caused me the race."

She glanced at Lindsey.

"It would seem that I owe you ten gold sovereigns."  She dug the coins
from her pocket.

"Will you grant me the opportunity to win it back?"

"Aye, Majesty.

Name your skill.  " The queen paused, deep in thought.

Ian's voice interrupted.

"The woods, Majesty.  Let us race through the woods to the far side of
the island and back.  The first ones back shall be the winners."

Lindsey shook her head.

"Nay, Majesty.  Jamie would not be pleased if we were to ride that far
without him."

"Are we children to be watched over by a wet nurse Ian asked.

Ian's words had their desired effect.  The queen could not ignore a
challenge, no matter how dangerous.

With a glittering smile she said, "I have Neal; you have Ian.  What
could possibly happen on such a sunny morn as this?"

"Please, Majesty," Lindsey pleaded.

"Wait until an other time."

"Nay.  I demand the chance to win back my gold.  We ride," Mary called,
wheeling her mount.

Lindsey hesitated a moment, then followed.  Beside her, Ian MacPherson
could hardly contain his delight.

Chapter Nineteen

As the darkness of the forest closed around them, Lindsey felt a sudden
chill.  Thoughts of her last adventure in the Highland forests filled
her mind.  With an effort she brushed the gloomy memories aside.

This was nothing more than a morning jaunt.  She would be back at the
castle in time for Mistress Macnab's midday meal.

As she began to follow a well-worn path through the woods, Ian clutched
her reins.

"Nay, my lady.  This way."

"If we leave the path we will be lost."

"Did I not tell you that I have an uncommon sense of direction?  Trust
me."

Without waiting for her reply he veered off the path and plunged into
the darkened forest.  Lindsey followed.

The foliage was so thick they had to pick their way care fully over
fallen logs and around muddy bogs.  The farther they rode, the deeper
grew the forest, until it seemed to close around them, shutting out all
light, all sound.

Ian held several thick branches aside and reined in his mount, allowing
Lindsey to move ahead of him.  As she did, her horse stumbled down a
sharp ravine, sending her flying through the air.  She landed with a
dull thud on the spongy, moss-covered floor of the forest.

For several moments she was too stunned to react.  Then, quickly
getting to her feet, she was dismayed to see her horse galloping ahead
of her through the thick foliage.

"Nay," she shouted.

"Halt.  You must wait."  The horse was swallowed up by the woods.

She turned, scanning the wall of trees.  Ian was nowhere to be seen.

"Ian.  Where are you?"  she shouted.

The only sound she heard was the shrill cry of a bird.

"Ian.  This is not amusing.  Do not tease," she called.

"Show yourself."

Her voice seemed to echo in the mist-shrouded woods.  The forest closed
around her.  She stood very still, gripped by a paralyzing chill.  It
was happening again.  The demons that had plagued her for so long were
returning to torment her once more.

The queen, accompanied by Neal, waited in the courtyard to claim her
victory.  Soon her smile of anticipation turned to a frown of
concern.

"They should have emerged from the woods by now."  Neal glanced at the
sun, almost directly overhead.

"Aye, Majesty.  It is not a large island.  They could have traversed
the entire distance by now."

"Help me from the saddle," Mary commanded.

Neal assisted her and stood holding the reins of her horse as she
climbed the steps of the castle.

Over her shoulder she called, "Summon me when your sister returns.  I
wish to collect what it due me."

"Aye, Majesty."

When the door opened, Jamie and Douglas, who had been deep in
conversation, looked up to see the queen's flushed face.  Both men
scrambled to their feet.

"It would seem you exerted great energy on your ride, Majesty."

"Aye.  I engaged Lindsey in a race.  But she has not yet returned."  '
"Where did you ride?"  Douglas came forward to offer his arm.

"The forest."

Douglas paused and glanced toward Jamie, whose smile faded to a look of
alarm.

"Lindsey is alone in the forest?"

"Nay.  Neal and I rode together.  Lindsey is with Ian MacPherson."

MacPherson.  That was even worse.  Jamie's throat went dry.  Struggling
to control his voice he asked, "Did you see the direction they took?"

"Nay, my friend.  You know how I hate to lose a wager.  I led the way
into the forest and never looked back."

Jamie was already heading up the stairs toward his chambers.

Strapping on his scabbard, he lifted his sword from the mantel and
hurried from the room.

As Lindsey picked her way through the undergrowth, she cursed the
clumsy skirts that impeded her progress.  Having had the occasion to
wear a lad's breeches, she knew that a woman's clothing put her at a
distinct disadvantage.

She paused a moment, seating herself on a fallen log.  As she lifted a
handkerchief to her face she had the eerie feeling that she was being
watched.  But when she turned to glance over her shoulder, she saw no
one.

Getting to her feet, she studied the progress of the sun.  It seemed
only minutes ago it had been directly overhead.  But already it had
begun its arc to the western sky: She must find her way to the castle
before daylight faded.  Else she would be forced to spend a night of
terror alone in these woods.

She tossed her head, refusing to permit such thoughts.  She would think
of this forest as a maze.  And she would work her way through it to
safety.

She heard the snap of a twig above her and looked up just in time to
see a heavy branch falling toward her.  With a cry she leaped back and
watched in horror as the limb crashed to the ground inches from her.

Had she not looked up in time, she would have been crushed.

She looked through the dense foliage.  There was no one visible.  It
was merely the wind.  She knew she was imagining dangers that were not
really there, but she could not fight the terror.  With her heart
pounding she took off at a run, plunging deeper into the woods.

Behind her, pale, nearly colorless eyes watched her progress.  The sun
glinted on fair hair.  The hand holding the dirk tightened its grip.

The neighing of a horse alerted Jamie that someone was near.  Following
the sound, he left the well-worn path he was traveling and entered the
thick forest.

He was a man unaccustomed to fear.  It never occurred to him to worry
about his own safety.  And yet, since he had met Lindsey, he had been
afraid for her more than once.  This time, the fear bordered on
desperation.  He must find her, and soon.

The sound of a woman's cry turned his blood to ice.  Urging his mount
to a run, he tore through the wild, tangled growth.

"Lindsey," he shouted.

"If you can hear me, call out so that I may follow the sound of your
voice."

Despite the crackle of brush underfoot, Lindsey heard Jamie's words and
came to a sudden halt.  She turned.  For a brief moment she thought she
saw the flutter of crimson in the woods behind her.  She blinked and it
was gone.

Cupping her hands to her mouth she shouted, "Jamie.  I am here."

With her heart pounding, she continued to call until a horse and rider
emerged from the forest.

"Jamie."  With a cry she raced toward him.

He leaned down and lifted her easily into his arms.

"It seems all I do is save your pretty neck," he muttered thickly.

"Praise heaven you found me.  I was beginning to fear that I would be
forced to spend the night in this..."

She glanced up and the words froze on her lips.  Though he said
nothing, the dark scowl on Jamie's face spoke volumes.

Her cheeks flamed.  And to think that she had almost hugged him
fiercely in her joy at being rescued.  In such a temper he probably
would have pushed her away.

Wheeling his mount, they plunged into the darkness of the forest.  They
picked their way through the woods until they emerged on the path.

Minutes later they broke free of the forest and entered the clearing,
They rode the entire distance to the castle in silence.

When they reached the courtyard, Jamie tossed the reins to Neal, who
led the queen's lathered horse to the stables.

Taking Lindsey's arm, Jamie strode up the steps and sent the door open
with a resounding crash.  Once inside he released his death grip on her
arm as Douglas and his sons stir rounded Lindsey, embracing her
warmly.

They looked up when the queen came hurrying into the room.

"Wherever have you been?"  Mary demanded.

"I fear I became hopelessly 10st in the forest," Lindsey said, feeling
th sting of shame upon her cheeks.

"Where is Ian MacPherson?"

"I know not.  I became separated from my horse during a fall.  When I
looked around Ian was nowhere to be seen.  And though I called and
called, I never caught sight of him."

Jamie and Douglas exchanged a glance.

"You look terrible," Mary said.

Surprised, Lindsey glanced down at her arms and saw that they had been
scratched by brambles and were bleeding in a dozen different places.
Her gown and cloak were like wise torn and stained with her blood.

"Oh, my," Mistress Macnab cried when she entered the withdrawing room
and caught sight of Lindsey.

"I shall see to your bath immediately, my lady."

"Thank you, Mistress Macnab."  Turning to the queen and her family,
Lindsey said softly, "There is no need for all this fuss.  It is not
nearly as bad as it looks.  A few scratches.  A torn gown."  She turned
to include Jamie, who had still not spoken a word.  His features were
stiff with anger.

"You will see.  I will be fine after my bath."

"I am relieved that you are unharmed.  But you seem to have forgotten
something," the queen called.

Lindsey arched a brow.

"You owe me ten gold sovereigns."

"Aye."  Reaching into the pocket of her gown, Lindsey withdrew the
coins.

"Now you may retire to your bath," Mary said with a smile of triumph.

Lindsey saw Jamie's scowl deepen.  With a look of extreme discomfort
she turned and followed Mistress Macnab up the stairs to her
chambers.

A few minutes later Ian MacPherson strode through the door.  On his
face was a worried frown.

"I have searched everywhere for Lindsey," he said.  '. "I found her
horse, which I returned to the stables.  But there is no trace of the
lady."

"She is safe," the queen said.

"She returned a short while ago in the company of Jamie MacDonald."

"Praise heaven."  Ian made a great show of relief.

"I have been searching for her ever since I found her mount."

Without a word Jamie turned away, his jaw clenched.

Jamie paced the floor of his chambers, unable to shake the anger that
simmered inside him.  On a sideboard, his half-filled tankard glinted
in the light of the candle's glow.

It was not ale he needed.  There was not enough ale in all of Scotland
to drown his fury.

In the next room he could hear Lindsey, talking and laughing quietly
with Sabina, who was helping her with her bath.

His hands clenched and unclenched.  What was he to do with Lindsey?  If
he could, he would lock her here in her chambers and keep her safe.

But that was impossible.  She was a woman with a mind of her own.  It
seemed that all he could do was stand idly by while she leaped from one
dangerous adventure to the next.

Did she not know that she was tearing him apart?

He heard Sabina's high-pitched, childish voice.

"Oh, my lady.  That is the loveliest gown of all.  You look so
beautiful;" "Thank you, Sabina.  And thank you for all your aid.  Now
you must go and assist the queen, or she will have your head."

The girl giggled.

"Aye, my lady."

Jamie heard the door close, then heard the sound of Lindsey humming as
she moved around her room.

Humming.  His fury grew.  She was humming a tune while he was still
reeling from the assault on his nerves.

The door of her sleeping chamber opened and Lindsey stepped into the
room.

She was wearing a gown of gold that would put the sun to shame.  Shot
with silver and gold threads, it shimmered and glowed in the light of
the candles.  Her hair had been pulled off her face with golden
combs.

She was so beautiful she took his breath away.

She seemed surprised to find him there.  For a moment her eyes
widened.

Then she gave him a sweet smile.  She had already forgiven him for his
earlier display of temper.

"I never properly thanked you for what you did, my lord.  I am most
grateful that you rescued me from the forest."

He said nothing.  But, she noted, the frown was back on his face.  And
a little muscle was working in the side of his jaw.

"I am sorry to have caused so much trouble."

"Aye.  Trouble.  You have been nothing but trouble since the day I met
you."

She was stung by his harsh words.  She should have known he was nothing
more than a disagreeable tyrant.

"Then you will forgive me, my lord, if I do not tarry, since I am
obviously unwelcome company."

As she turned away his hand snaked out, clamping her wrist in a painful
grasp.  She could feel the carefully coiled tension vibrating through
him.

Her eyes grew as dark and stormy as his.

"You will let me go at once."

"Nay, my lady.  Not until I have had my say."

She lifted her chin with an air of defiance.  All the curses her
brothers had taught her through the years leaped to her mind.

"I am not interested in your words, you son of a viper.  May you rot"
"You will listen."  His hand closed over her shoulder, forcing her to
stand still.  He bit off each word with a fury that had him
trembling.

"You will ride only when I am with you."

"How dare" -He drew her closer, until she could feel the sting of his
hot breath against her temple.

"You will go nowhere with Ian MacPherson."

"I will go wherever I" -- "Damn you."  He kissed her.  A hard,
punishing kiss that cut off her words and left her breathless.

Against her lips he rasped, "You are driving me mad, Lindsey.  You are
the most infuriating, impossible female I have ever encountered."

"Well, if this is how you intend to treat me..."

He kissed her again and felt all his tightly held control begin to
slip.  What had begun as a desperate move to silence her quickly became
a passion that, once unleashed, whirled out of control.

He crushed her to him and devoured her with kisses that left her no
chance to protest, no chance to even think.  There was no gentleness in
him now.  Only fire and rage and hard, driving need.  The hands that
pressed against her might have bruised her tender flesh.  He was beyond
knowing.  He knew only that he was caught up in something so powerful,
so compelling, he had not the strength to fight it.

Lindsey was overwhelmed by the passionate rage in him.  It matched her
own troubling feelings.  But as the kiss deepened she sensed the subtle
change in him.  Though the hands that held her were still firm, they
were no longer rough.  And though his kisses devoured her, they were no
longer punishing.  His lips were warm and firm and demanding

"What am I to do with you?"  His whisper had the sound of quiet
desperation.

"I cannot sleep, knowing you are but a few steps away.  I am tormented
by thoughts of storming your room and making you mine.  I can bear this
tension no longer."  For the first time, she was at a loss for words.
She went very still as his meaning began to penetrate the confusion
that clouded her mind.

She lifted her lips and felt a wild surge of power when he kissed her
with a hunger that left her trembling.

"You are not angry with me?"

"Angry, my lady?"  His lips roamed her face, touching lightly across
her lids, her brow, her temple.

"I am beyond anger.  I am being devoured " by worry, and jealousy, and
fear for your safety.  "

She heard but one word.

"You are jealous?  Of--Ian MacPherson?"

He responded with a low, guttural sound before returning for another
taste of her lips.

"I am consumed with fears for your safety, and you care only if I am
jealous."

"You are.  I can hear it in your voice."  She gave a de lighted laugh
and wrapped her arms around his waist.

He was surprised at how quickly his anger returned.

"You mock me."

"Nay, my lord."  She drew closer, loving the way his eyes darkened as
he studied her.

"It is just that I thought..."  She ran a tongue over her lips and
tried again.

"Earlier this day, I suspected that you despised me for carelessly
getting lost in the forest.  I realized that I caused you untold worry,
but..."

"It would seem," he said, pressing his lips over hers, "that this is
the only way to make you understand any thing."

The kiss was long, and slow, and unhurried.  And as the passion built,
their kisses became more desperate, until their breathing was shallow
and ragged.  His hands gripped her shoulders, his thumbs making lazy
circles on the bare flesh of her upper arms.

"Stay with me, Lindsey."

She heard his words as if from a great distance and struggled with a
new kind of terror.  She pushed against him, but she was no match for
his strength.

"I must go.  They await me below stairs."

He brought his lips to her throat, where his nibbling kisses left her
weak with needs.  Needs that pulsed and throbbed until she was forced
to cling weakly to him.

"Nay.  Stay here with me."

His meaning was very plain.  She struggled to clear her mind.  She
wanted what he wanted.  The need for him had grown with every kiss. 
But the thought of what he was asking terrified her.  They were not
betrothed. He had not spoken for her.

"I cannot."

He brought his lips to her shoulder and thrilled to the way she
trembled in his arms as he ran kisses across her sensitive skin.

"And I cannot bear another moment without you, Lindsey.  I love you.

God help me, I tried to deny it, but I can no longer deny what my heart
tells me.  I love you.  "

Love.  It was the only thing he could have said that left her
defenseless.  With a little gasp she stared at him, then lifted her
hand to his cheek in a gesture so tender, he felt his heart stop.

"You truly love me?"

"Aye."

She touched a finger to his lips.

"And I love you, Jamie MacDonald."

For a long moment, Jamie could not speak.  But in his eyes was a look
so filled with love and longing, there was no denying his feelings.

"Then you will stay with me?"

Lindsey could not speak over the lump in her throat.  With tears
glittering like diamonds in her eyes, she nodded.

Without a word he lifted her in his arms and carried her to his
sleeping chamber.

Chapter Twenty

A single candle flickered on the bedside table.  The only other light
came from the fire that blazed on the hearth.

Through the open balcony window came the fragrance of spring flowers
carded on the evening breeze.

It was quiet.  The only sound in the room was that of strained and
shallow breathing.

Jamie studied the woman in his arms.  She shimmered in a golden halo of
light.

Though he was half mad with desire, he knew that he must go slowly.  He
would bank his needs and take the time to allay all her fears.

"How long I have waited to love you."  With a kind of reverence he
removed the combs from her hair and watched as it drifted like a silken
veil around her face and shoulders.  She heard his quiet moan as he
drew her close.  With a sigh he plunged his hands into her hair and
drew her head back until he was staring deeply into her eyes.  He
nibbled the corner of her mouth with great tenderness until he felt her
respond, hoping it put her at ease.

"Soft, my lady.  You are so soft, so small and delicate."

"And you are so strong, it frightens me."

"You need never be afraid of me, Lindsey.

I know I displayed a wicked temper.  But it was the passion driving
me. I would never hurt you.  " I would kill for you, he thought.  I
would die for you.  But I would never hurt you.

Lindsey smiled, and he saw the way her lips trembled.

"I know, Jamie.

I know I am safe with you.  But I am-afraid, all the same.  "

"As am I," he whispered.

"You?"  She smiled.

"You tease me."

"Nay, my lady.  You terrify me."

With a rush of feeling she wrapped her arms around his waist and
brought her lips to his throat.

Her touch brought a flare of desire that nearly drove him mad.  He
dragged her against him and covered her mouth with his.  Though he
longed to take her, he cautioned him self to hold back.

With great tenderness he kissed her lips, her ear, her throat.  When he
brought his mouth to the sensitive flesh of her throat, she gave a
little moan and arched her neck, giving him easier access.  He ran
open-mouthed kisses along the column of her throat, then brought his
lips lower, until he encountered the ruffled neckline of her gown.

He needed to rid himself of the barriers between them.  Lingering over
her lips, his fingers found the fasteners of her gown.  With a rustle
of satin it drifted to the floor.  He ran wet kisses across her
shoulder, causing her to tremble and clutch blindly at his waist.  As
he drew her close he untied the ribbons that held her chemise.  It
drifted like a flower petal to the floor, where it joined the rest of
her clothes.

"God in heaven, Lindsey, how lovely you are."

His hands moved over her;, touching, exploring, seducing.

With an unexpected boldness Lindsey reached for the buttons of his
shirt.  As it slipped from his shoulders she brought her lips to his
hair-roughened chest and gloried in the freedom to touch him as he was
touching her.  But her courage failed her when she fumbled with the
waistband of his breeches.  Her fingers were stiff and awkward, and he
was forced to help her, until, at last, his clothes joined hers on the
floor at their feet.

"I want you, Lindsey.  How I want you."  He spoke the words into her
mouth as he covered her lips in a possessive kiss.

She lost herself in him, drinking in all the dark, mysterious tastes
that were his alone.  The scent of pine forest clung to his hair.  On
his breath was a hint of ale.  She felt drunk with the heady taste of
him, tl/e musky male scent of him.  Her man.  For all time, he would
own her heart.

As he took the kiss deeper she felt her knees weaken.  Scooping her up,
he carried her to his bed and lay her among the linens, then lay beside
her and drew her into the circle of his arms.

His kisses were by turn harsh, then gentle, as he cautioned himself
that this, her first time, must be savored slowly.

Leaning up on one elbow he studied her as she lay beside him.  Her
hair, glinting red and gold in the firelight, was a splash of color
against the white linens.  It spilled across one breast, then fanned
out around her like a silken veil.

He caught the strands, lifting them away from her neck.  He stared,
fascinated, as they sifted through his fingers.  With a fingertip he
traced her collarbone, the slope of her shoulders, the curve of her
breast.

He lowered himself until his lips could follow the trail his fingers
blazed and he felt her tremble as his lips closed around her nipple.

With his tongue he teased it until he heard her little moan of
pleasure.

His lips covered hers in a kiss so demanding, she prayed it would never
stop.  When at last his lips left hers to explore her body, she felt
bereft.  She had a need to take and give until she was both filled and
drained.  Never before had she wanted to open herself to someone.

But this man, his touch.

his kiss, had taken her higher than she had dreamed possible.

His kisses seared a fiery trail across her tiny waist to the smooth,
flat skin of her stomach.  He chuckled as she flinched, then ran his
hands across the softly rounded flare of her hips.  His touch was so
gentle, so easy, Lindsey lay seeped in pleasure, drifting on a cloud of
contentment.  But when his touch suddenly moved to her inner thigh, she
started to protest.  Her words were swallowed when his mouth covered
hers in a savage kiss.  And as his touch became more intimate, his
mouth sought her breast and his lips closed around her hardened nipple.
All she could do was absorb pleasure after pleasure as his lips and
his fingertips continued driving her untiI her body was alive with
feeling.

She was no longer shy or afraid.  Her head was thrown back, her body
arched for him.  As he hesitated above her she clutched at him, drawing
him to her.

"Love me, Jamie.  Please love me now."

Jamie was determined to be gentle.  But as he entered her, he forgot
everything except his need for this woman.  He was kissing her lips,
her cheek, her hair.  And as he began to move, she moved with him,
matching his incredible strength.

Her lips were avid, and hungry, as they found his.  He murmured
incoherent words of love against her mouth.  He pledged his life, his
heart, his soul, and knew that it was not enough.  He needed her with a
desperation that bordered on madness.

The taste of her, the scent of her, enveloped him, filling his mind,
his senses.  He heard the cry that broke from her lips as she shuddered
and reached the final crest of intense pleasure.  Her name was torn
from his lips as he followed her high among the stars.  Together they
hovered a moment, before exploding into a million tiny pieces.  Then
slowly, slowly, they drifted back to earth.

:g :,g

Jamie rolled to his side and drew Lindsey into the circle of his
embrace.  With great tenderness he touched his lips to the sheen that
covered her forehead.

He felt the little tremors that rocked her and lifted her face for his
inspection.

"Tears, my lady?"  His tone roughened.

"I have hurt you."

"Nay."  She touched a finger to his lips to silence his fears.

"I am just so filled with wonder at what we experienced.  I never
dreamed..."  She swallowed.

"It was beautiful

"As are you."  He pressed his lips to her temple.

They lay in silence a moment, feeling their heartbeats slowly return to
normal.

Idly she traced the scars that crisscrossed his chest and shoulders.

"You have been wounded so many times."

He lay very still, loving the feel of her fingertips on his flesh.

"They have all healed."

"But you are scarred.  I wish" -her voice lowered "--I could erase all
your scars."

"You already have," he said softly.  It was the truth, he realized.

With her he was renewed, refreshed.  With her love he had been
reborn.

"This was not supposed to happen," Lindsey murmured against his
throat.

"What was not supposed to happen?"

He lay very still, loving the tiny thread of contentment that curled
along his spine.  She fitted so perfectly into his arms.  And into his
life.  She was the missing piece to this puzzle.  With her, he was
whole, complete.

"Being loved by you."  Lifting herself on her elbow, she traced the
outline of his lips with her finger and gave a laugh when he bit it.

"And why is that?"

She traced his nose, his cheek, his shaggy eyebrow, while he lay
steeped in pleasure.  Hers was the gentlest touch he had ever known.
While she leaned over him her hair swirled forward, tickling his chest.
Already he could feel his passion growing, and he marveled at the magic
of her touch.

"I heard my mother tell my father after my--accident that the Highland
lads would be put off by my shattered leg."  At Lindsey's words he
suddenly felt chilled.  For a moment even his heart forgot to beat.

"And she made my father vow that he would always keep me with him, to
atone for the fact that I would never have a husband."

He felt her pain as if it were his own.

"That is why your father has always been so protective?"

"Aye."

"But all this was said before they knew that you would walk again.

Surely, when you regained the use of your limb, they recanted.  "

"Nay.  Even after I could walk, they felt that I was somehow--flawed by
my limp.  I remember lying in my bed and dreaming of a proud Highland
laird who would storm my father's fortress and carry me off to his fine
castle.  But always," she said with a sigh, "I knew that it was only a
silly dream.  For my mother was right.  No man would want a flawed
wife."

Jamie sat up so quickly she was startled.  Pushing her gently down
against the linens, he ca tight her foot in his hand and lifted it for
his scrutiny.  Then slowly, reverently, he rifted it to his lips.

Lindsey chuckled.

"Stop.  Whatever are you doing?"  He pressed a kiss to the bottom of
her foot, causing her toes to curl.  Then he kissed the top of her foot
and her ankle and each of her toes.

"I am worshiping the foot that saved you from all those other men," he
said softly.

Her laughter suddenly faded when she caught sight of the look on his
face.

"You do not jest?"

"Nay, my love.  I would give anything to remove the pain you
suffered.

But I am grateful that there has been no other man.  "

He pressed a kiss to the bend in her knee and heard her little sigh of
pleasure.  And then he rained kisses along her thigh to her hip, and
upward until he found her breast, where he fed until she caught his
head and dragged him to her for a long, pleasurable kiss.

"Do you know what you are doing to me?"  she asked.

"Aye.  The same thing you are doing to me," he murmured against her
lips.

He would not have believed he could want her again so soon.  But, he
realized as the kiss deepened and his heart beat quickened, he would
never have enough of her.  If he lived to be a very old man, he would
still want this woman in his arms, and in his bed, until his life
ebbed.

This time their lovemaking was not nearly as heated and frenzied.

There was time now to be slow and easy.  With soft sighs and tender
kisses, they slipped into that private world of pleasure where only
lovers can dwell.

"My lord.  The queen awaits you below stairs to sup."  Jamie glowered
at the closed door, then glanced at the sleeping woman who lay curled
in his arms.  His frown was replaced by a look filled with love.  He
would never tire of looking at her lovely face.

Lindsey's lids fluttered, then flew open as a loud knock rattled the
door.

Sitting up she reached for the bed linens but Jamie stopped her and
lifted her hand to his lips where he pressed a kiss to her palm.

"We must hurry and dress," she whispered frantically, "or the queen
will be furious."

"I do not care to sup with the queen.  Or to endure an evening of music
and games.  Unless," he said with a roguish smile, "the games are with
you."

Lindsey giggled, then looked up in alarm when Mistress Macnab's voice
filtered through the door again.

"My lord.  Are you there?"

"Aye."  Jamie's voice was gruff.

"You may tell the queen that I will not be coming down to sup, Mistress
Mac- nab."

The woman's voice sounded incredulous.

"You will not... ?  But my lord, the queen has commanded it."

He swore, loudly, savagely, until Lindsey placed her hand over his
mouth.

"What say you, my lord?  I did not hear," came the housekeeper's
voice.

"I said you may tell Her Majesty that I will be down shortly."

"Aye, my lord.  And what about Lady Lindsey?"

Lindsey cast a worded glance at Jamie.

"She must have found my door ajar.  Surely she knows that I am in
here."  He shrugged.

"If she does, she will be discreet."

In a loud voice he called, "The lady will join me below stairs."

Mistress Macnab's tone brightened.

"Aye, my lord.  I shall tell the queen."

Jamie stared at the woman Who shared his bed and could still not
believe his good fortune.  Earlier this day he had despaired of finding
her alive.  His despair had turned into a black, burning rage at her,
at himself, at all those who would harm her.  But now, just hours
later, he felt more at peace than at any time in his life.

He loved her.  Loved her desperately.  And she had said she loved
him.

For now, that was all that mattered.  He would not think about
tomorrow, or about how he would manage to keep her safe, while still
guarding his queen.

Right now, her arms were slipping around him, drawing him down to
her.

And her arms were the only things he needed around him.  She was the
only place he wanted to be.

"To hell with them all," he muttered thickly.

"We will just have to be late."

Everyone looked up when Lindsey and Jamie entered the withdrawing room.
At first Mary thought it was the golden gown that accounted for the
lady's radiance.  But what would have caused Jamie MacDonald to have
such a glow of happiness?  From her position in the chair beside the
fire the queen watched with interest.

Lindsey's hand rested light lyon Jamie's sleeve.  The look he bestowed
on her was one of tender concern.  As they crossed the room they were
careful to draw apart.  Jamie walked to the fireplace, where he bowed
stiffly before the queen.

"You are late.  Mistress Macnab was forced to delay our meal."

"Aye.  Forgive me, Majesty."  Jamie offered no reason for his delay.

Lindsey walked to where her father and Donald stood deep in
conversation.

"So, my dear.  Have you recovered from your latest misadventure?"

Lindsey's cheeks turned very pink.

"Aye, Father.  As you can see, I suffered nothing more than a few
scratches."

"My lady."  Ian MacPherson hurried to her side and lifted her hand to
his lips.

"I was deeply concerned about you when we became separated.

I was overjoyed to find that you were safely home when I returned.  "

Across the room, Jamie's hand clenched into a fist at his side.

I "How is it that we became separated?"  Lindsey demanded.

"Did you not boast of a keen sense of direction?"

He gave a careless shrug of his shoulders.

"I know not, my lady.  One moment you were in front of me.  The next,
you and your mount had disappeared from view."

"We slipped down a ravine," she admitted.

"But I thought surely you would see me and come to my aid."

"I was beside myself with worry.  We are very fortunate that Jamie
MacDonald found you, else you might still be lost out there."

She shivered and withdrew her hand from his grasp.

"That is not a very pleasant thought, my lord."

"Nay."  Ian cast a speculative glance at Jamie.

"Dinner is served, Majesty," Fergus Macnab announced.

"Douglas," Mary called, "you will escort me to sup."

"Where is Lord Darnley?"  Jamie glanced around the room.

"My husband is--indisposed."  Mary did not mention the latest argument
she had had with Darnley over the noblemen who had killed her
secretary.  Though Darnley continued to profess his innocence, he was
weakening.  Soon, she knew, he would give her the names she sought. 
And then those loyal to her would rid the land of such monsters.

The queen glanced at Fergus Macnab, who gave no indication that he and
his wife had overheard the angry words exchanged between Mary and her
husband.

Jamie saw the empty decanter on the sideboard, along with the discarded
tankard.  It was obvious that Darnley had started drinking earlier than
usual this day.  He suspected that Mary secretly encouraged the
drinking in order to loosen Darnley's tongue.

Mary placed her hand on Douglas Gordon's arm and led the procession to
the refectory.

All the while that Mistress Macnab and her daughter served the meal,
Jamie and Lindsey exchanged veiled glances.  When Lindsey thought about
the pleasures that awaited them in their chambers, her cheeks grew
flushed.  Seeing Jamie's enigmatic smile as he ducked his head, she
knew that he was entertaining the same thoughts.

At the head of the table the queen watched with interest.

She was not imagining it.  These two looked different to night.  As
though they shared some special secret.  She glanced at Douglas Gordon,
seated on her left.  It was plain that he noticed something out of the
ordinary, as well.

When the meal ended, Mary led the way to the cozy room filled with
hunting trophies.  A fire blazed on the hearth.  As the talk swirled
around them, Jamie and Lindsey watched each other when they thought no
one was looking.

"Play for me, Lindsey," the queen commanded.

"I would hear a tender ballad or two."

Lindsey hid her disappointment.  The last time she played for the
queen, she had been forced to stay up half the night.

As Robbie retrieved the virginal, Lindsey glanced at Jamie and felt her
heart nearly stop.  The look he gave her was so filled with love, it
was as if he had reached out from across the room to touch her.  She
felt her cheeks grow hot as she bent to the instrument.

The melody she played was hauntingly beautiful.  At the sound of it,
the queen saw the smile on Douglas Gordon's lips.

"Do you know this song, Douglas?"

"Aye, Majesty.

"Twas a favorite of my wife's.  She played it when we were wed.  And
again when each of our hairns were born."

"So this song has meaning to Lindsey, as well?"  Mary glanced at Jamie,
who stood beside the hearth, watching Lindsey with a strange, burning
light in his eyes.

"Aye, Majesty."  Douglas followed the gaze of the queen.  He had seen
the heated glances between his daughter and Jamie MacDonald.  And he
heard the passion the lass poured into her music.

It had already been decided that they would leave for the Highlands on
the morrow.  It would be none too soon to suit him.  But the decision
would not sit well with his obstinate little daughter, he thought with
a frown.  Especially if what he surmised about Lindsey and Jamie was
correct.

Chapter Twenty-One

"I thought the queen would never tire."  Jamie leaned against the door
to their sitting chamber and let out a sigh of relief.

Instantly Lindsey turned and pressed her hand to his mouth.

"Shh.  You must be quiet.  She will hear you.  She has not even reached
the door to her chambers yet."

Jamie loved the feel of her hand on his lips.  Catching it between both
of his big palms he kissed each of her fingers, all the while studying
the way her eyes darkened at his touch.

"Come to bed with me now."

He took her hand and led her toward his sleeping chamber.  Together
they crossed to the bed.

In the silence of the room he cupped her face between his big hands and
kissed her until they were both burning with need.

"I want to lie with you this night," he murmured against her lips, "and
awaken with' you still in my arms on the morrow."

They slipped quickly from their clothes and fell into each other's arms
into a world of endless pleasure.

Dawn had barely streaked the eastern sky.  A gauzy mist hung over the
loch.  The world lay in stillness.

Jamie studied the lass who lay cradled against his chest and gave a
deep sigh of contentment.  All night they had loved, dozed, then
awakened to love again.  Theirs had been a long journey of discovery. 
At times their lovemaking had taken on a wild frenzy, as if they feared
it would be their last.  At other times they had slipped into quiet,
intense pleasure as they lazily explored each other.  He pressed his
lips to Lindsey's temple and closed his eyes against the morning light,
as if to hold it at bay.  He never wanted this to end.  He loved her.
Loved her with a desperation bordering on madness.  He now knew that he
wanted to spend the rest of his life loving this woman.  There was so
much to learn about her.  So much he still did not know.  She would be
leaving today with her father and brothers.  It had all been quietly
arranged yesterday, when he and Douglas had made their plans.  He would
remain here with the queen, to see to her safety as he had pledged. 
The Gor- dons would return to the Highlands, to recruit an army to
return the queen to her rightful place in Edinburgh.  When this was
over, Jamie vowed, drawing Lindsey closer, he would return to the
Highlands to claim her for his bride.  And they would never be
separated again.

"Such dark thoughts, my lord."  Lindsey touched a finger to the little
furrow between his brows.

"Are you plot- ring how to get rid of me?"

"Aye.  You caught me."  He combed his fingers through i her hair and
stared deeply into her eyes.

"Though it is true i that you are beautiful," he murmured, kissing the
tip of her nose, "and talented with dirk and sword, as well as with the
virginal."  He pressed his lips to the little hollow be- i tween her
neck and shoulder and chuckled when she shivered

"And you are a delight in my bed."

"Ah.  And that is why you scheme to be rid of me."

"Well, there is the matter of your temper, my lady."  He nuzzled her
neck and felt the desire rise.

"I fear you are not a properly subservient female to suit me.  I had
always thought to take as wife one who would be standing at the door
with a row of hairns in tow, waiting to greet the master of the hearth.
You, my lady, would probably insist upon going off to battle with me,
and taking the hairns along for good measure.  Nay," he murmured
against her throat, "you are not nearly submissive enough to suit
me."

With a laugh she sat up, catching him by surprise.

"Sub missive?  You seek a submissive woman, my lord?"

He lay back against the linens, loving the light of laughter in her
eyes.

"I suppose you prefer a wench who would first ask you what you like?"

"Aye.  That would be nice."

"And do you like this, my lord?"  She surprised him by straddling him
and leaning close, until her lips were inches from his.

Her hair drifted around them, tickling his cheeks.  His look of
surprise changed to one of delight.

"Aye, wench.  It pleases me."

"And this, my lord?"  She slowly kissed his-lips, then brought her
mouth lower, to nibble at his throat.

"Does this please you?"

The fire began, low and deep, and he clutched at her.

"I fear it pleases me too much."

"That is good, my lord."  She began to trail kisses along his shoulder
and across his chest.

"If I am to win your heart, I must first learn to please you."

"Wench," he growled.  "" You already have my heart.  And my body and
soul, as well.  Now have mercy.  I am on fire.  "

"Nay, my lord.  There is much more I must learn if I am to please
you."

She gave a delighted laugh and began to move over him, trailing kisses
over his body until he clutched at her with a fierceness that surprised
them both.

And then they were caught up in needs that had them coming together
once more in a storm of passion.

Jamie lay in the bed, hands behind his head, watching as Lindsey washed
herself and began to dress.  He loved everything about her.  The smell
of her, clean, fresh, like spring flowers.  The look of her when she
first awoke, her eyes half-closed, her lips pursed in a little pout.

If he could be granted but one wish, it would be to spend the rest of
his life watching her just this way.

Her gaze met his in the looking glass.

"You are looking very pleased with yourself this morrow, my lord."

His smile grew.

"Aye.  This is a very special" -They both looked up at the sound of
loud knocking on the door.

"What is is, Mistress Macnab?"  Jamie called.

"It is Sabina, my lord," came the timid voice.

Lindsey walked to the door and opened it a crack.

"I do not need your assistance, Sabina," she said cheerfully.

"As you can see, I am already dressed for the day."

"The queen sent me to make sure you were ready to travel, my lady."

"Travel?"  Lindsey arched a brow.

The girl shrugged.

"The queen said you and your family would be returning to the Highlands
today, my lady."

With a questioning look Lindsey turned toward Jamie.  But when she saw
the expression on his face, she felt her heart stop.  It was true.  It
was not a mistake.

Turning to the young girl she said with icy calm, "You may return in a
little while, Sabina."

"Aye, my lady."

She closed the door and waited until the girl's footsteps receded.

Then the storm broke.

"You knew this."  Her tone was controlled.  Too con trolled.

Jamie scrambled from the bed and stood across the room facing her,
damning the timing of the girl's announcement.  He had been about to
tell her in his own way.

"Aye.  Your father and I discussed it yesterday."

"Yesterday."

"When you and Neal went tiding with the queen."

"Before I" -she swallowed and forced herself to go on "---came to your
bed."

"Aye.  But it had nothing to do with"

"And you did not tell me."

"Lindsey, there was no time .... " "We have been together all night.
And most of yesterday."  Her voice rose to near hysteria.

"And yet there was no time to tell me that you are sending me away."

He crossed the room and opened his arms to her.

"It is not like that.

I am not sending you away.  Your father tides to the Highlands to
recruit an army for the queen.  And I must remain here to see to her
safety.  "

For a moment Lindsey was tempted to move into the circle of his arms
where she would be warm and safe.  But when she was in his arms she
could not think.  And she needed a clear head.

"Then I will stay here with you."

"If only you could."  He lifted his hands to her in a pleading gesture
and she took a tentative step toward his embrace.

"But we are not formally betrothed.  Such a thing would bring shame to
your family."

"Shame?"  She pushed herself free of his arms.

"You speak of shame?

You, who took me from Edinburgh against my will?  You, who took me to
your bed, knowing you were sending me away on the morrow?  "

He caught her by the arm but she shook his hand away and stalked to the
looking glass, where she crossed her arms beneath her breasts and
stared at his reflection.  Her voice was soft, little more than a
whisper, as she fought back tears.

"This is a cruel jest, my lord.  But I suppose a man must take his
pleasure when he can find it.  And it is as you said.  I am not
subservient enough to please you.  It is just as well this ends
quickly, without----complications."

He swore, loudly, savagely.

"Lindsey, this was no jest.  I love you.

You must believe me.  "

"Aye.  Just as I believed that a lass who could not run like other
lasses would one day wed the leader of a proud clan."  Tears shimmered
in her eyes as she pushed past him and fled to her own sleeping
chamber.

"How long do you think it will take to raise up an army, Douglas?"

The queen presided at the head of the table Douglas Gordon and his four
sons sat on either side, along with Lord Darnley, whose red-rimmed eyes
barely focused on his guests, and Ian MacPherson, who seemed extremely
pleased with himself.  Jamie stared at his food without seeing or
tasting it.

"I will call a council of Highland chiefs immediately, Majesty.  As
soon as the men can be armed and ready, we will return."

"It is dangerous to tarry too long," Mary said.

"My absence gives my enemies time to foment trouble.  Already there are
whispers and rumors, and the good citizens know not what to believe of
their monarch."

"When they see you return in triumph, Majesty, they will know that you
did not desert them."

"Aye.  I pray it is soon."

Mary looked up as Lindsey entered and noted the lass took her seat
quickly beside her father.  Though Jamie glanced at her, she did not
look his way.

"Ah, Lindsey.  I regret that there will be no more wagers the queen
said.

"A pity I must lose both my riding companion and my young stable
master?"

Neal flushed with pleasure.

"I was up early, Majesty, to see to your mare.  She has been groomed
and fed.  Justin MacLeod will see to her care when I am gone."

"When do we leave?"  Lindsey asked her father.

"As soon as you have eaten, lass."

She pushed her plate aside.

"I am not hungry.  I would leave now."

The queen glanced from Lindsey's proudly tilted head to Jamie, whose
expressionless features could have been carved from stone.

Standing, Mary waited for her husband to offer his arm.  As the queen
led the way from the room, Lindsey placed her hand on her father's arm.
The others followed.

They left the castle and walked to the water's edge.  Jus tin MacLeod
stood beside the boat that would take them across the loch.  He bowed
to the queen, who smiled before turning to Douglas Gordon.

"God speed, old friend," she said as he kissed her hand.  Douglas
pressed her small hand between both of his.

"Rest assured that I will succeed at the task you have as signed me,
Majesty."

She turned to Murray, Donald, Robbie and Neal.

"You have been blessed with the finest of fathers.  I could wish no
more for my own child."

Each of them kissed her hand, filled with pride at the praise heaped
upon their father by their queen.

Lindsey curtsied, then stood before the queen and lifted her chin.

She had thought to plead with Mary to allow her to stay.  But she had
dismissed such a thing as childish.  She would not beg.  Nor would she
show any emotion at leaving Jamie MacDonald.  If it killed her she
would not let him see what this cost her.

"It was an honor to be with you in your time of need, Majesty."

"God go with you, Lindsey.  You take the gratitude of your queen with
you."  She leaned close and murmured, "As well as someone's heart."

Lindsey's eyes widened and she turned for a moment to glance at Jamie,
who stood a few steps behind the queen.  His eyes were hooded, his face
devoid of all expression.

She could not speak.  The lump in her throat threatened to choke her.

Turning away, she felt blinded by the mist that blurred her vision.

She was grateful to the boatman, who caught her hand and helped her
clamber aboard.

Ian MacPherson bowed low before the queen.

"I will not fail you in my mission, Majesty."

Jamie took a step forward.

"What mission is this, Majesty

"Ian has friends who are pledged to my safety.  He will ride with the
Gordons to the Highlands and enlist their aid."

Jamie felt a sudden chill at her words.

"I had thought Ian was brought here to bear arms in your cause,
Majesty."

"Aye.  So he was.  But if he can summon others, he is more valuable to
me in the Highlands than languishing here.  Especially since I am in
your very capable hands.  Do you not agree?"

With every part of his being, Jamie sensed that Ian MacPherson was an
evil that should not be unleashed.  But he knew that it was his word
against Ian' s. Despite the fact that he had hoped to keep Ian under
his watchful eye until this thing was over, he held his silence.

With a feeling of helpless rage, Jamie watched as Ian climbed aboard
the vessel and took a seat beside Lindsey.  Within minutes they were
being ferried across the loch to where their horses had already been
assembled.

As the wind whipped the figures in the boat, Jamie saw Ian's arm close
around Lindsey's shoulder to keep her cloak from blowing.

Mary and Lord Darnley turned away and began to make their way to the
castle.  But Jamie could not leave.  Even when the distant figures were
no more than dark spots on the horizon, he continued to stand by the
water, his hands clenched, his heart heavy.

Jamie and the queen returned from a ride through the maze.  Mary'
scheeks were a becoming shade of pink in the warm afternoon sun.  As
Jamie helped her from the saddle, Justin MacLeod leaped from his boat
and came hurrying toward them.

"Majesty, two men desire an audience with you."

A look of alarm flew into the queen's eyes.  Jamie's hand went to the
sword at his side.  Both turned to gaze at the figures on the far bank
of the loch.

"No one knows I am here.  Who are these men?"

"One of them said to tell you that he is your cousin, Lord Desmond
Frazer, Majesty."

"Describe this man."

"He is tall, Majesty.  Almost as tall as Lord Jamie MacDonald.  And his
hair and beard are very white.  His voice-thunders, Majesty."  Justin
felt his face grow hot and hoped he had not offended the queen.

Mary threw back her head and laughed.

"Aye.  You have just described Desmond perfectly.  Fetch him to me at
once."

Justin bowed humbly, then returned to his boat.  On shore, Jamie and
the queen watched as the boat was ferried to the far side" where the
two men were helped aboard.  The boat then made its slow progress to
the island.

Desmond, followed by a stocky, shaggy-haired stranger, hurried to kneel
before the queen.

"Majesty," he said, kissing her outstretched hand, "forgive our
tardiness, but it could not be helped."

"Tardiness?  I do not understand, Desmond," Mary said with a puzzled
frown.

"I was not expecting you."

"Nay.  But you were expecting my soldier."

The queen's frown grew as she turned to study the man who stood behind
her cousin.  He wore the garb of a High lander, with saffron shirt and
rough tunic.  On his feet were brogues.

His legs were bare.  The man's arms and legs were corded with
muscles.

The scars of hundreds of skirmishes marked his face, his neck, his arms
and legs.  He was not a man against whom a sword would be lightly
lifted.  In his eyes gleamed the fire of a warrior.

"You make no sense, Desmond.  Pray tell me the name of this soldier I
was expecting."

Desmond, too, looked puzzled.

"I thought you would be angry with me, Majesty, for making you wait so
long for the services of my most trusted soldier.  May I present Ian
MacPherson."

Chapter Twenty-Two

As the warrior knelt before his queen, Mary's mouth dropped open in
stunned surprise.  Beside her, Jamie's heart plummeted.

"You are Ian MacPherson?"

"Aye, Majesty," the man said.

"I was on my way here when I was attacked by a band of highwaymen.  The
scum left me for dead.  If it were not for the kindness of a traveler
who came upon me lying in my own blood, I would not hax/e survived."

The queen turned to Jamie.

"Then the man who possessed that scroll"

"Was one of the band of highwaymen," Jamie finished.

"And he is leading Douglas Gordon and his family into a trap."  Jamie's
mouth was a grim tight line as he shouted to Justin, "See that my horse
is saddled and ready at once."

Turning to the queen's cousin, he said, "Lord Desmond, you and Ian
MacPherson must stay beside the queen at all times until I return."  He
pressed a hand to Mary's sleeve.

"Even when you sleep, Majesty, one of these men must be outside your
door."

He saw the fear that she struggled to hide.

"Is that really necessary,

"Aye, Majesty.  Promise me you will not risk your safety."

She gave a reluctant nod of her head.

He lifted her hand to his lips, then drew her close.  Against his cheek
she murmured, "I pray that you are not too late, Jamie.  For I fear
that the Gordons are in grave peril."

She saw the look of grim determination in his eyes as he turned and
strode to the boat that awaited him at the water's edge.

"You have been very quiet on this journey, my lady."  Ian brought his
horse close to Lindsey's as they entered the forest.

"Are you reluctant to leave the glittering life of royalty behind and
return to the Highlands?"

"Nay.  I am just--weary," she said as her gaze scanned the heavily
forested area.  They were very near the place where they had
encountered the highwaymen.  She felt as nervous and skittish as a colt
newly put to saddle.

"No matter.  Your journey is almost over."  He saw her stiffen and
asked, "What is wrong?"

"I thought I saw someone, or something, just beyond those trees."

"I will investigate," Ian said, leaving Lindsey alone on the trail.

She turned in the saddle to call out to her father, who rode a short
distance behind.  A few minutes later her brothers caught up with
them.

They milled around, impatiently awaiting Ian's return.

At last Douglas said, "Murray and Donald.  Go and see what is keeping
Ian."

The two rode off while Lindsey and her father slid from the saddle.

Douglas watched as Lindsey knelt to pluck a wildflower and lowered her
face to breathe in its fragrance.  It brought a smile to his lips.

"Jamie MacDonald told me that you are like a wildflower," he said.

Lindsey felt the pain, hot and sharp, around her heart and wondered
when it would end.

"Jamie spoke to you of me?"

"Aye."  Douglas watched his daughter and wondered how much he should
reveal.  But she seemed so unhappy.  And he had always been willing to
do anything to see her smile.

"He told me that I had a very special daughter."  Douglas smiled.

"And I told him that I was already aware of that."

She walked to him and kissed his cheek, then lay her head on his
shoulder.

"Father, did you always know, even in the beginning, that you loved
Mother?"

"Aye," he said without hesitation.

"From the moment I met her I knew she was the lass for me."

"Would you have ever sent her away from you?"  Douglas heard the pain
in her tone and prayed he could find the words to comfort her.

"The agony of separation would have been worse than death."  He
paused.

"But if her safety depended upon it, I would have been strong enough to
send her away.  There were times I was grateful that she was safe in my
fortress while I was doing battle.  But always I feared for her.  When
you love someone, you cannot help worrying.  It is the price we pay for
loving, lass."  He tipped up her chin and stared into her eyes.

"Love is not a smooth, easy path through a meadow, Lindsey.  More often
it is a treacherous course, beset with mountains and valleys that would
test the faith of a saint."

She felt the sting of tears and blinked them away quickly.

"Is it worth the pain?"

His lips split into a wide smile.

"Oh, aye, Lindsey.  It is more than worth the pain."  He kissed her
hard and quick,

then turned toward her horse.

"Now, let us find your brothers and be on our way."

As they mounted, Douglas gave a little frown.

"They should have returned by now.  Draw your weapons.  Something is
amiss."

They moved out slowly, with Douglas in the lead.  As they crested a
hill, they came upon a small clearing just below them.  And the sight
that greeted them brought a torrent of oaths to the old man's lips.

Murray and Donald lay bloodied and motionless.

"God in heaven."  Douglas Gordon's heart stopped and he urged his horse
into the clearing.  Before the horse had even come to a halt he had
leaped from the saddle and was kneeling beside his eldest son.

The others gathered around anxiously as he felt for a pulse.

"He lives.  Praise God, he lives."  He rushed to Donald and examined
him.

"He is also alive.  But he has lost much blood.  Here, lass.  He needs
your help."

Lindsey slid from the saddle and began tearing her petticoat into
strips while Neal rushed to a nearby stream and returned with water.

As she bathed their wounds and stemmed the flow of blood, Murray's lips
moved, though no words could be heard.

"He tries to speak," Lindsey called to her father.  Instantly the old
man was on his knees beside his son.

"What is it, Murray?  Can you speak, lad?  Who did this terrible
thing?"

"He is about to say the name Ian MacPherson, old man," came a voice
from behind them.  They whirled to see Ian holding a sword, followed by
a dozen armed men.

"But that would be a lie.  You see," he said with a chilling laugh, "I
am not really Ian MacPherson.  Nor am I really interested in protecting
the queen.  As a matter of fact, it was one of my band who almost
succeeded in getting to the queen at Lochleven.  We were offered a
handsome're ward by Lord Ruthven if we got to the queen before her army
of protectors.  Unfortunately, he was thwarted by the lass."  He shot
Lindsey a hate-filled look.

"I am one of this band of highwaymen.  And we are here to seek
vengeance."  To his men he shouted, "Tie them.  And see they do not
escape.  I have waited a lifetime for this.  I intend to savor every
minute of it."

Jamie rode hard through villages and hamlets, across flower-strewn
meadows, over narrow streams and wide rivers and into the dense forest.
It was an easy matter to follow seven people who had not attempted to
hide themselves.  But once in the forest, he noted, the trail faded. 
No matter.  He knew where they were headed.

If his instinct about the man who claimed to be Ian MacPherson was
correct, they would be sequestered in his evil domain deep in the
forest.

His hand tightened on the reins.  He had to reach them in time.  If he
did not, he would be forced to live with the pain of loss for the rest
of his life.  For all time he would know that he had sent the woman he
loved to her death, rather than risk her dishonor.

What terrible irony for one who valued honor above all things.  Yet
even honor paled beside the loss of Lindsey's life.

It was fury that drove him.  A raging fury that built with every
mile.

Lindsey felt her heart stop when she saw Argus.  The hideously ugly man
who "had held her captive in the forest bent to tie her hands.  His
single dark eye blinked furiously.

"So, my fine and fancy lady, we meet again.  It would seem the fates
keep throwing us together so that I may finally get a chance to sample
your charms."

"If you are human, at least let me take care of my wounded brothers,"
Lindsey pleaded.

The man they knew as Ian gave her a chilling smile.

"What good would it do?  They are only going to die any way.  As are
all of you."

"Then kill us," Douglas said, "and spare us this torment."

"Nay.  Not yet.  Not until it pleases me."  The leader poured himself a
tankard of ale and said to Argus, "Start a fire and prepare some
food.

This night is a celebration.  I intend to savor it.  "

Soon a deer was butchered "and hung over a fire.  While it slowly
roasted, the men began to consume vast quantities of ale.  The forest
rang with the sound of their laughter.

They feasted until their hunger was sated.  And then, warm from the
food and ale, the one called Ian approached Lindsey and bowed before
her.

"The time has come, my lady."  His voice was a silken purr of
pleasure.

"I have waited a lifetime for this moment.  And now I intend to take my
revenge."

"I do not understand," she said.

"I do not know you."

"Nay.  But I know you.  And you," he said, turning to include Douglas
Gordon.

"You are wrong.  I would remember you, had we met before," the older
man replied.

Ian sat on a fallen log and crossed his leg, staring for a moment at
the toe of his boot.  When he lifted his gaze, he fixed Douglas Gordon
with a look of pure hatred.

"My given name is indeed Ian.  But my clan is not MacPherson.  I wager
you remember my father."  He paused for just a moment before saying
softly, "Neville Sinclair."  Douglas gasped.  The night had turned
eerily quiet.

"Neville Sinclair."  Douglas Gordon spat the name like a curse.

"He broke all the laws of warfare.

Instead of fighting me like a man, he stole away with my only daughter
and tried to violate her.  "

"And you killed him," Ian said softly.

"Aye.  I killed him.  Any man would have done the same.

He caused my daughter to suffer for a lifetime because of his cruelty.
"

"Do you recall his son who begged you to kill him also?"

Douglas stared at the man a moment, seeing in his mind's eye the
terrible battle that ensued after Lindsey's leap to the courtyard.

Then he shook his head.

"Nay.  I recall no lad.  I barely recall killing Neville Sinclair.  I
remember only the way my little daughter looked, lying in a pool of her
own blood, like a small broken bird."

"I came into the room," Ian said, "and fell weeping across my father's
body.  And I begged you to run me through with your sword so that I
could be with my father."

Douglas blinked, remembering the scene he had blocked for all these
years from his memory.

"Aye.  I do recall."  His voice lowered.

"I spared your life and told you that the only way you could ever be
with your father was to lead a wicked life.  I warned you not to follow
in his ways or you would one day join him in the fires of hell."

"Aye."  Ian's eyes glinted with a dangerous light, and Lindsey shivered
at the evil she could read in their depths.

"Remember well your words, old man.  This night, I intend to make you
suffer as I have suffered all' these years without my father."

His hands closed over Lindsey's upper arms, lifting her to her feet.

Drawing a dirk from his waistband, he held it up so that the blade
reflected the dancing light of the fire.  But instead of placing it o
her throat, he cut through the ropes that bound her.

"Before you die, Douglas Gordon, you will beg me to kill you as I once
begged you.  And I will show you the same mercy.  You will be forced to
live with all your pain."  He smiled, a cruel, dangerous smile.

"You will first see your daughter ravaged by me and my men.  And then
you will see your sons die before your eyes.  And only then will you be
allowed to join them."

"I beg you, take my life and spare my children," Doug las cried.

"Ah.  Already you beg."  He turned to his men with a triumphant laugh,
and then his voice changed to the deadly whisper that Lindsey had heard
before.

"It is time to sample the lady's charms."

Lindsey's eyes went wide at the sound of that terrifying whisper.

"It was you who spirited me away from my father's camp."

"Aye, my lady.  And this time I will not fail in my plans for
revenge."

As he pushed Lindsey in front of him toward the fire a tall figure
stepped into his line of vision.  There was no mistaking Jamie
MacDonald.  In his hand glinted the jeweled hilt of a sword.

"Release the woman," Jamie commanded.

For a moment Ian froze.  Then, seeing no other figures emerge from the
woods, he threw back his head and laughed.

"You are alone and you think to fight all of us?"

"Aye."  Jamie's eyes narrowed as he studied the lass in Ian's arms.  He
had heard and seen enough to know that this man was capable of doing
all that he had threatened.

"And a hundred more, if need be.  Release the woman."

At the fire in Jamie's eyes, Ian's smile faded.  Until this moment, he
had not really understood the fervor that drove the Heartless
MacDonald.

He motioned to his men.

"Kill him."

As the highwaymen drew their swords and advanced, they tasted the full
force of Jamie's wrath.  His anger was a terrible thing to behold as he
leaped, thrust, danced, disarming all in his path.

Alarmed, Ian tossed Lindsey to the ground and joined in the battle.  As
the sound of blade hitting blade echoed through the forest, Lindsey
crawled to where her father and brothers lay and quickly cut through
the ropes that bound them.  When they were free they leaped into the
fray, driving the villains back.

When Ian realized that he and his men were being badly defeated, he
looked around for an escape.  At the edge of the clearing, Lindsey had
taken up a sword to guard her two wounded brothers.  Moving quickly,
Ian crept up behind her and gave her arm a vicious twist until the
weapon dropped harmlessly to the ground.

As Murray and Donald struggled to their feet he hissed, "If anyone
should follow me, I will slit the lass's throat."

Her brothers were forced to watch helplessly as Ian dragged Lindsey
into the forest.  Ignoring the pain of their exertion, they gave a loud
cry.

Jamie heard their cry and from the corner of his eye saw the flash of
color as Lindsey disappeared into a thicket.  Without thought to his
own safety he dodged the flashing blades and raced into the forest.  A
moment later he saw two shadows on the trail ahead of him.  With a cry
of rage he leaped forward, sword drawn.

Ian whirled, drawing Lindsey in front-of him like a shield.

"Unless you halt and drop your weapon, I will plunge my sword through
the lady's heart."

Jamie.  had no doubt that this madman would do as he threatened.  He
remembered a time when he would have fearlessly acted to disarm such a
villain without regard to the consequences.

But that was before" Lindsey.  He felt the river of sweat between his
shoulder blades.  Fear.  But not for himself.  His life would mean
nothing without Lindsey.  For her sake, he must play by the villain's
rules.

He tossed his sword to the ground and saw Lindsey's eyes widen with
fear.  Ian's lips curved into a smile.

"Who would have thought

the Heartless MacDonald would surrender so easily9" He brandished his
sword.

"Now kneel before me."

Jamie knelt in the damp earth, all the while gauging the distance
between himself and Ian.  If he were to charge quickly, he would take
the blade meant for Lindsey.  And if he could stay conscious long
enough to put up a fight, she would be able to make her way back to her
father and brothers.  His life would be little enough to pay to save
hers.

Ian read the fire in Jamie's eyes and sneered.

"Do not try it, MacDonald.  My aim is true.  My blade will find your
heart with the first thrust."

"It does not matter," Jamie said, preparing himself for the leap.

"Nothing matters now except that the lady be free of your curse
forever," In the blink of an eye Lindsey saw him get to his feet.

"Nay, Jamie," she cried.

Then she saw a snarling, silvery shadow leap from the floor of the
forest and launch itself toward Ian's uplifted sword.

"Wolf," she cried in alarm, as she saw Ian's sword slice through the
hound.

The distraction gave Jamie the moment he needed to take up his sword
and attack.  Within minutes, Ian lay dead.  Jamie turned to find
Lindsey kneeling in the dirt, with Wolf's head cradled in her lap. 
Tears streamed down her face as she watched-the blood stream from the
great shaggy beast.

Jamie knelt beside her and ran a hand over the matted fur.  Rage
churned through him.  Must everyone and everything he loved be
sacrificed?

"Oh, Jamie.  Praise heaven you came in time."  Lindsey felt the first
sting of tears as relief flooded through her.

As she sought to comfort the gravely wounded hound, she whispered, "He
finally came close enough to let me touch him.  But the price was too
high.  He willingly gave his life for mine, as you were about to do."

Jamie's rage boiled over.  He could not bear to look at the pain in
her eyes.  Nor would he risk the loss of any more of his loved ones.

Giving no thought to Lindsey's father and brothers who gathered around
them, he grasped Lindsey by the arms and hauled her roughly to her
feet.  His eyes narrowed as he studied her.  He wanted nothing more
than to hold her in his arms and keep her safe.  But there was still so
much to be done.  And one pledged to the queen's safety could not
afford the time to be tender.

With fire blazing in his eyes he turned to the wounded lads, Murray and
Donald.

"Are you strong enough to ride to your father's fortress?"

"Aye."  Murray looked puzzled at the anger in Jamie's tone.

"Then you will escort Lindsey there."

Lindsey's eyes widened.

"I will not..."

The hands gripping her upper arms tightened their grasp until she cried
out.  His words were a low rasp of fury.  He spoke each word with
emphasis.

"You will do as I order."  Turning to her father he added, "I will
brook no arguments, Douglas.  I want the lass returned to your fortress
at once."

Lindsey bristled.  Every curse she had ever learned rushed to her
lips.

"I will not have this son of a viper order me about like a servant.  I
would rather..."

Douglas lifted a hand to still her tirade.  Turning to Jamie with a
solemn nod he said, "It will be as you say."

With a look of disbelief Lindsey' sgaze went from Jamie to her father,
then back to Jamie's implacable look.

"You go too far, my lord?I will never forgive you."  Jamie turned on
his heel and strode away.

For long minutes she stared after him, battling a tangle of jumbled
emotions.  At last she swung away.  To her brothers she directed,
"Bring the hound."

"He is beyond saving," Donald said as gently as possible.

She wiped her tears with the back of her hand.  She would not cry over
Jamie MacDonald.  He was unworthy of her tears.  Her look of
determination matched Jamie's.

"Bring him."

As she bid her father and young brothers goodbye, Jamie stood alone,
his face a grim, unreadable mask.

Chapter Twenty-Three

"Majesty.  Look."

Lord Desmond Frazer pointed.  Beside him, the queen stared in
astonishment at the sight of hundreds of High landers gathering on the
far bank of the loch.

Within the hour, Jamie MacDonald and the Gordons had been ferried
across and stood before their queen.

"We are here, Majesty, to return you, in triumph, to Holyroodhouse,"
Jamie announced, bowing low over her hand.

"Oh, Jamie, my friend.  You are as good as your word."

"As are the Gordons, Majesty.  It was Douglas Gordon who summoned the
lairds."

"And it was' Jamie eloquent words that persuaded them to leave their
homes and follow him," Douglas said.

"Then my gratitude to both of you," Mary said.

"I rejoiced when your messengep arrived, assuring me that all were
safe.  My husband," she said, glancing at Lord Darn ley who stood
meekly beside her, "has revealed the names of all the lairds who
plotted against me.  Already many have fled the country.  The rest,
including Ruthven, lie dead."

Jamie felt relieved-that the men who had attacked Brice Campbell were
finally punished for their crimes.

"And now with your army," Mary continued with a note of happiness, "our
success is assured."

With pride Neal led the queen's horse from the stable and assisted her
into the saddle.

"Where is your sister?"  Mary asked as she accepted his hand.

"Jamie sent her home, Majesty.  Along with Murray and Donald, who were
wounded by the highwaymen."

"I would wager she did not go willingly."

"Nay, Majesty.  There were words between them."

The queen glanced at Jamie.  That would explain his hag gard
appearance. Love, she thought with a sigh, was never easy.

"We ride to Edinburgh," she called in a loud, clear voice.

The men cheered.

"But first, my friends, there is a most important stop we must make
along the way.  Jamie, I would send a rider ahead with a message."

"Aye, Majesty."  He summoned a rider from among the Highlanders, and
waited while the queen prepared several long missives.

As she handed over the scrolls, Jamie saw the light in her eyes, and
suddenly knew.  The queen would stop first at Kinloch House.  And see
for herself if Brice Campbell, the Highland Barbarian, had survived.

As their horses' hooves ate up the miles, Jamie's thoughts grew
pensive.  It seemed so long since he had been home.  And when he had
left, Brice had been hovering near death.

Throughout this long adventure he had adamantly're fused to allow
himself to think the worst.  Brice was a strong man who had been
wounded many times before.  Always he had regained his strength.  But
this time, the wounds had been brutal.  And Brice was no longer the
young, carefree lad he had once been.  Nor, Jamie thought gloomily, was
he.

Strange how one adventure could change a man's life forever.  He felt
so much older and more battered than when he had left Kinloch on that
bitter morning.  But no wiser.

As they topped a rise, Jamie caught sight of Kinloch House in the
distance.  As always, his heartbeat quickened at the view.  He felt as
he had that first time he had seen it as a terrified orphan, carried in
the arms of a rough High lander.  The magnificent structure sprawled
between two towering peaks.

Their hoofbeats thundered as hundreds of Highlanders assembled in the
courtyard of Kinloch House.  The doors were thrown wide and those
assembled inside spilled forth to greet their monarch.

Jamie stood at attention on one side of Mary, with Doug las on the
other.  They watched as Meredith, Brice's beautiful wife, curtsied
before the queen and presented her hairns.

"Tell me of Brice," Mary said softly, gripping Jamie's arm for support
as she waited for words.

Meredith's eyes filled with tears, and for a moment Jamie felt his
heart stop.  Then he realized that hers were tears of joy.

"He lives, Majesty.  And already he is well enough to make us all
miserable with his demands."

The queen pressed a hand to her heart and felt her own eyes fill.

"Praise heaven.  I would see him."

"At once, Majesty.  But first, my sisters wait to greet you."

Mary patiently greeted Brenna and her English husband, Morgan Grey, and
the youngest sister, Megan, and her Irish husband, Kieran O'Mara, and
dutifully placed her hand upon all their hairns' heads.  Then, her
patience wearing thin, Mary insisted upon being taken to see her
beloved barbarian.

As they climbed the stairs, Jamie thought about all the battles that
had been waged within these walls.  And all the love and laughter this
old fortress had witnessed.  Now an other generation of hairns laughed
and cried and played through the rooms.

They entered Brice's chambers and Jamie watched as, across the room,
Brice was helped to his feet by two of his men.  He made a gallant bow
before the queen rushed for ward and fell into his outstretched arms.

And for the first time that Jamie could recall, his queen burst into
tears.

"There now," Brice murmured.

"Am I such an old weak man that you must weep for my wounds?  Has Mer
edith not told you that I am healing nicely?"

"Aye," she cried through her tears.

"It is my condition.  I find I cry easily these days."

"Ah."  Brice drew her close for another embrace.  Over her head he
winked at Jamie.  All women seem to cry more easily when they are with
child.  I well remember Meredith's tears before our last hairn was
born.  "

"It is a comfort to know that I am not the only one to behave in such a
strange fashion."  Mary wiped her tears and forced a smile to her lips.
Sniffling she asked, "Are you well enough to sup with me before I leave
for Edin burgh?"

"I would not miss it.  Meredith has planned a grand banquet He gave her
a mysterious smile.

"We received your message.  All is in readiness."

Her smile brightened.

"Then I will refresh myself from the rigors of our journey and prepare
for the feast."

Mary followed Meredith from the room, leaving Jamie alone with Brice.

For a moment the two stared at each other in silence.  Then Jamie
strode across the room and caught Brice in a warm embrace.

"You are truly well?"

"Aye.  The wounds heal.  Slowly.  But they heal."  Brice studied the
haggard features and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"I

knew you would succeed," he muttered.

"Did you?  That was more than I knew.  I merely did as you
suggested."

"From the queen's missive, you did much more than that.  She considers
you her champion."

Jamie hung his head at Brice's scrutiny.

"And there are rumors of--misadventures, as well," Brice said
thoughtfully.

Jamie's head came up sharply.

"What have you heard?"

"Only that you had the misfortune to meet a Highland lass with a temper
to match your own."

Jamie swallowed and remained silent.  But his pain was evident to the
man who had raised him.

"Go and refresh yourself," Brice said.

"And then return and lift a tankard with me.  I would hear
everything."

"Aye."  Brushing a hand wearily across his eyes, Jamie made his way to
his old chambers and sank down gratefully on the bed.  There had been
no rest for him in many days.  He was too weary to even remove his
sword and scabbard, And yet he could not seem to summon sleep.  His
thoughts were tormented by his last view of Lindsey, riding defiantly
out of his life and vowing never to forgive him.

Jamie, looking splendid in black breeches and tunic, descended the
stairs.  He could hear the hum of conversation in the great hall.  When
he entered, he was astounded to see the great number of guests who had
been invited to sup with their queen.  Besides the hundreds of
Highlanders who had ridden with him, thee were all the Campbells and
their families, and the dignitaries from the surrounding towns and
villages, who were so rarely privileged to bask in the presence of
their monarch.

As he made his way through the crush of people, Murray Gordon caught
his arm and pulled him aside.  Standing with him were his three
brothers, who greeted Jamie warmly.

"So," Jamie said, "you are healed.  When did you arrive?"

"Only this morrow.  We left as soon as the queen's missive arrived."

We.  Jamie longed to ask about Lindsey, but his pride prevented him
from doing so.  Besides, he warned himself, the lass was too furious
with him to ever forgive him.

"i would say this now," Murray began, "before the ale flows too freely,
getting in the way of my tongue."  The others chuckled.

"What is it?"  Jamie tensed.

"I resented you when you invaded our home."  Murray flushed but forced
himself to go on.

"And I resented the way you behaved like a mule in the presence of my
sister."

"Mule?"

Murray held up his hand and said, "Aye.  A mule.  But then, Lindsey is
not the easiest of lasses.  Now I would apologize for my unkind
thoughts and at times my rude behavior toward you."  He offered his
hand.  'of ever I find myself in battle with a dozen men against me, I
would have you at my side, Jamie MacDonald.  You are truly the finest
warrior in Scotland.  "

Jamie stared at his hand in amazement, wondering what had brought this
on.  Then he smiled and accepted his handshake.

The others patted him on the back and offered their hands.

"Come, now," Murray said.

"I was told to see that you sat with the queen at the table of honor.
Her husband, 'tis said, is indisposed."

The four escorted Jamie through the throng until they reached the head
table, where they were greeted warmly by the queen and by Meredith and
Brice.  But when Brice moved aside, Jamie was astonished to see,
standing behind him, a vision in emerald satin.

"Lindsey."  Jamie breathed her name as he strode for ward, then halted
abruptly.

"How did you come to be here, my lady?"

Lindsey struggled to hide the tumultuous emotions she was experiencing
at the nearness of him.  The rogue still had the ability to make her
pulse race and her blood heat.

"The queen commanded it.  Else I would still be in banishment at my
father's fortress."

Banishment.  Jamie's heart fell at her choice of words.  She was making
it as plain as possible that she was not here of her own free will.

Both of them were unaware that Mary was watching them with great
interest.

"Jamie," Mary said imperiously, "you and Lindsey will sit to my
right.

Brice and Meredith will sit on my left side.  "

All bowed and took their places when the queen was seated.

Mary's confessor, Bishop Edmund Grant, led a prayer of thanksgiving,
which went on endlessly, as he praised the queen, the Highlanders and
all loyal to the throne.  At last dozens of servants, recruited from
nearby villages, helped serve the feast.

The meal was a festive affair, with silver trays of whole roasted boar,
partridge and pheasant, mutton and venison.  There were baskets filled
with breads and trays of puddings, tarts and pastries of every kind.
Tankardsarid goblets were filled with ale.  and hot mulled wine.

There were toasts to the queen's beauty, and to her wisdom, and to her
unborn child.  And there were toasts to the men who had left their
homes to see to the queen's safety, and toasts to the men who ld
them.

Through it all, Jamie and Lindsey sat silent and awkward in each
other's presence.

This was not, Jamie brooded, the reunion he had planned.  He detested
the prying eyes, the knowing looks that passed among many in their
company.  Worst of all, he was aware of the tension in the lass beside
him.

For Lindsey, the hours seated beside Jamie were the longest she had
ever spent.  She was achingly aware of the muscled thigh that brushed
hers, of the callused fingers that closed around the stem of his
goblet.

When the banquet was finished, they retired to a great hall, made
festive with fires blazing on the hearth and a velvet throne on a
raised platform.

When all had assembled the queen took her seat upon the throne and
announced, "I command Jamie MacDonald to come forward."

Bewildered, Jamie made his way to the throne and bowed before the
queen.

Robbie stepped forward and recited stirring verses about Jamie
MacDonald, and his loyalty to his beloved queen.  When he had finished,
many in the crowd were openly weeping.

At a signal, Brice handed the queen his jeweled sword.

"Kneel," Mary whispered.  Jamie knelt.

The crowd fell silent.

In loud, clear tones the queen intoned, "James Devin MacDonald, I
pronounce you the Queen's Champion and Sir Knight.  Along with your
title, I award to you the lands that stretch from Callender in
Perthshire to the land from Sterling to the Clyde, and I appoint you
laird of all the MacDonald clans in Glengarry, who have long been with
out a leader."  She touched each of his shoulders with the blade of the
sword, then said, "Arise, Sir James Devin MacDonald, and accept the
acknowledgement of a grateful queen and her people."

Stunned beyond belief, Jamie stood and felt the queen's hand upon his
arm.  When he turned, the crowd burst into cheering.  For long minutes
he acknowledged their applause.  Then he turned to where Lindsey had
been standing with her father and brothers.  How proud he was to share
this with her.

His heart fell.  Her place was empty.

As soon as he could do so without undue notice, he slipped away from
the festivities.

The night air was cool, the darkened courtyard deserted.  It was the
perfect place for Lindsey to hide the tears that spilled from her eyes.
She was overcome with emotion.

Sir James Devin MacDonald.  Jamie was now a man of title and
privilege.

A legend among her people.  And a leg end would never be satisfied with
a mere Highland lass.

She had always been a foolish dreamer.  But now she must face reality,
no matter how painful.

She had seen how easily Jan-He slipped on the mantle of authority.

Now he would become part of the queen's court in Edinburgh, where
beautiful women would vie for his affection.

It mattered not, she consoled herself.  He was a cold man.  Cold and
cruel.  Look how easily he had banished her.  And though they had been
apart all these long days, he had greeted her as though she were a
stranger.  Aye.  He would have no difficulty walking away from her
again. Her mother had been right all those years ago.  The tears
started afresh, and she was helpless to stop them.

Jamie was grateful for the bite in the air.  He wanted nothing more
than to walk off his frustration and to think without interruption.  As
he walked, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

This day had been the culmination of every warrior's dream.

Knighthood.  The'leadership of a clan.  A castle of his own and lands
enough for generations of MacDonaids to work and rule.  And yet it was
all empty.

The lass who owned his heart had made it plain that she would never
forgive him for sending her away.

He cursed the fates that had brought them together.  His life before
Lindsey had been uncomplicated.  Now life had lost its flavor.  He
would be well rid of this place.  He needed a new challenge.

With an angry oath he rounded the corner, then stopped in mid-stride.

A lone figure, wrapped in a hooded cloak, stood alone staring at the
towering peaks in the distance.

She whirled at the sound of approaching footsteps, and he felt his
heart stop.

Lindsey swallowed, brushing away the incriminating tears that clung to
her lashes.

"Well, my lord."  She stiffened her spine as he approached.

"Your legend has grown.  You must feel very proud.  Even my brothers
boast to all who will listen that they fought beside the Heartless
MacDonald."

He flinched, hating the name.

"I do not know what I feel.  It has all happened too quickly."

"When you return to Edinburgh, you will be acclaimed a hero.  You will
surely have your choice of celebrations to attend, my lord."  Not to
mention, she thought dismally, his choice of women.

"I will not tarry in Edinburgh.  Mary now has enough soldiers to assure
her safety, thanks to your father's efforts."

"You will journey to your new castle then?"

Jamie glanced away, unable to look at her.  The sight of her beauty
caused his heart to lodge in his throat.  With his gaze fastened on the
moon he said, "It is expected of a new laird.  I will have to inspect
my lands and get to know my people."

"You will want Wolf to accompany you to your new home."

"Wolf lives?"  He turned to her with a look of astonish- mentl By the
gods, she had wrought a miracle, and all be cause of her persistence.

"I thought my brothers would have told you.  Wolf awaits you in my
chambers."

"Your chambers?  You have turned him into a pet, my lady?"

Lindsey bristled, feeling her temper return.

"I did not force him.  It was his choice.  He is very content to walk
by my side, to eat from my hand and to sleep beside my bed."

She had just described heaven.  Jamie knew of another who would be
content with that, but he kept his silence and turned away.

Slowly she turned to study his proud profile.

"Mayhap he tired of the battle and yearns for a life of ease."

His voice roughened.

"It is what all warriors yearn for.  But they fool themselves.  The
battles never end."

He drew his cloak around him and began to turn away.

"Aye.  Especially if the warrior is the Heartless Mac Donald, who stirs
battles wherever he goes."

Jamie turned on her, his eyes blazing.

"I have told you how I hate that name.  Why do you persist in trying to
goad me, my lady?"

Lindsey drew herself up to her full height and faced him.

"The name suits you.  I cannot forget that you coldly sent me away. You
ordered me around as though I were a servant.  You shamed me in front
of my family."

His eyes darkened.  Without thinking he caught her roughly by the
arms.

"Shamed you?  God in heaven, I wanted to spare you any further pain.  I
sent you away be cause I could not risk having you harmed.  Why can you
not accept that?"

Too late, he remembered the jolt that always accompanied the mere touch
of her.  He felt it now, swift and jarring.  His fingers tightened,
drawin her near.

"I will not Stand here and allow you to shout at me."  She tried to
pull away, but he tightened his grasp and dragged her roughly to him.

"Damn you, woman.  Why must you always fight me?"

Lindsey struggled to push free of his arms.

"I will not be bullied by"

"I had forgotten.  There is only one way to stop your curses."  His
lips covered hers in a kiss, cutting off her protest.

Each of them reacted as though they had been struck by lightning.  Fire
raced through them, heating their blood.

"God in heaven."  Jamie lifted his head and framed her face with his
hands, staring deeply into her eyes.

"You may think me a bully and a..."

"Son of a viper," she added, watching his lips draw closer.

"Aye."  Perhaps, he mused, he could perform a miracle himself, if he
but persisted.

"Will you at least admit that you missed me?"  He brushed his lips over
hers, feeling a wild pulsing deep inside.

She could go on being kissed like this all night.  She had never
forgotten the fire, or the needs that surfaced each time he kissed
her.

"Aye, I did miss your kisses.  Though at times you are an overbearing
brute.  I missed the fighting."  She parted her lips.

"And the making up."

With his lips a fraction above hers he muttered, "Admit that you love
me, Lindsey."

She swallowed, anxious for his kiss.  With a little sigh she muttered,
"Only if you say the words first."

He brushed his lips lightly over hers and felt the flames begin to lick
along his spine.  The miracle was within his grasp.

"I love you, Lindsey Gordon.  With all my heart."

She moaned and drew him close.

"And I love you, Jamie MacDonald."

With a laugh he lifted his head.  He dared not kiss her again.  Not
yet.

He knew that this time, once the floodgates were opened, there would be
no stopping the outpouring of passion he felt for her.

Suddenly grasping her hand, he began to run toward the castle, forcing
her to race by his side to keep up.

"Stop.  Whatever are you doing?"

"You will see."

When they reached the great room, he hauled her along beside him as he
searched among the guests until he came to Douglas Gordon.

"I would have a word with you," Jamie said, interrupting Douglas and
Brice as they talked with the queen.

Everyone looked up in surprise at his brusque behavior.

"Aye.  What is it?"  Douglas asked.

"I seek your permission to wed your daughter."  Douglas turned a
startled gaze on his daughter and saw, despite her breathlessness and
disheveled appearance, the dazed expression of love in her eyes.

"Aye, Jamie.  I have long known how the two of you felt.  You know I
approve.

But why must we discuss this here, now?  "

"Because the bishop is her to speak the words.  And the queen is here
to give witness.  And if truth be told," he added with a smile, "I do
not wish to give your daughter time to change her mind, my lord."

Brice threw back his head and roared with delight.

"Spo ken like a true strategist, Jamie lad."

Mary clapped her hands in delight.

"A wedding tonight?  Aye, I approve.

In fact, it is as I had hoped when I arranged that the two of you be
thrown together.  You know how I love romantic entanglements.  " She
turned to the bishop.

"What say you, Excellency?  Will you waive the banns and see the lad
wed to his true love?"

Pursing his lips, the bishop thought a moment, then nodded gravely.

"If you so command, Majesty, I will see to it."

"A gown," the queen said, turning to Meredith and her sisters.

"Lindsey must se wed in a gown fit for such a grand occasion."

Amid much whispering and giggling, Meredith, Brenna and Megan hauled
Lindsey away to their chambers.

At Brice's command, the servants began preparing the chapel for a
wedding.  Wine flowed, and the guests began eagerly awaiting the
surprising ending to the queen's feast.

Jamie, for the moment, had been forgotten.  He slipped from the great
hall.  Like a caged panther he paced the upper hall, waiting for a
glimpse of his bride-to-be.  Surely going into battle was easier than
this.

What were the women telling Lindsey?  Perhaps they were advising her
against the match.  Would they fill her head with stories of the
dangers of marriage to a warrior, or the terrors of bearing his
children?

When the sisters finally slipped from Lindsey's chambers, their faces
were unreadable.  They kissed Jamie's cheek, then went below stairs to
join the others in the chapel awaiting the arrival of the happy
couple.

Staring at the closed door to Lindsey's chambers, Jamie could bear the
waiting no longer.  With a quick tap he entered For a moment he paused
just inside the doorway.  Lindsey turned from the looking glass, and he
caught his breath at the sight of her.

She wore a gown of dazzling white shot with silver threads.  At her
throat was a necklace of diamonds that burned with the light of a
thousand candles.  Her hair was worn loose, tumbling in a cascade of
curls down her back, and entwined with ivy and wildflowers.

On her face was a look so filled with love he felt his heart stop.

"Oh, my lady," he said, taking a tentative step toward her.

"You are so beautiful, words fail me."

"And you, my handsome warrior, make my hands tremble."

He caught her hands in both of his and drew her close.

"I love you, LindseyGordon.  More than my own life."

"And I love you, Jamie MacDonald.  For now, for all time."

He lifted her hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to each palm.  And
then he gathered her into his arms and brought his lips to her
temple.

The fire started, low and deep, and slowly built until they were
consumed by it.

"I cannot wait.  You must kiss me."

"I will not be ordered around like a servant," she muttered against his
lips.

His words were warm with unspoken laughter.

"Aye, my love.  I will learn not to shout orders like a--bully."  The
flames burned higher, until they were a raging inferno.

"Will we stay together even in battle?"

"We will ride together, and love together.  But as to battle, who knows
what the fates have in store for us, love."

"But" -His lips closed over hers, silencing her protest.  As he
lingered over her lips his fingers found the buttons of her gown, and
he slipped it from her shoulders.

"Jamie.  What are you doing?  The queen awaits us below stairs."  '
"Aye," he murmured against her lips.

"We will simply have to keep the queen waiting a little longer,
love."

They dropped to their knees, still clinging fiercely to each other.

And as she drew him to her, Lindsey was filled with so much love she
feared her heart would explode.  At long last, her noble warrior had
come to claim her for his bride.  But this was not some childish
dream.

As his lips and fingertips moved over her, she knew that this was
better than any dream.  The love they shared was true.  And it she
lived a hundred lifetimes, she would never tire of the brave, noble
warrior who had won her heart.

With a sigh she gave herself up to the miracle of love.

Epilogue

The chapel at Stirling Castle was resplendent will thousands of candles
casting their soft glow over the store walls.

Mary, beloved Queen of Scotland, sat upon an ornat throne, gowned in
robes of royal purple velvet.  Upon he: head was a tiara glittering
with emeralds, rubies and diamonds.

Lord Jamie MacDonald and his wife, Lindsey, led th procession of
dignitaries who would witness the baptism o Mary's infant son.

Brice Campbell and his wife, Meredith, represented the Highland lairds,
who had sent a proclamation of love ant loyalty to the queen and her
heir.  Lord Morgan Grey ant his wife, Brenna, represented the Queen of
England, wh had sent a magnificent gold font weighing two stones.  Kie
ran O'Mara and Megan acted as proxy for the King c France, who had sent
a jeweled chest.

"Where is Lord Darnley?"  Lindsey whispered.

"The queen tells everyone he has smallpox.  The rumor are that he
suffers from syphilis."

Lindsey cast a pitying glance at the woman upon th throne, who seemed
doomed always to have love elude heJ "Who gives this child to God?" 
the bishop asked.

"We do," Jamie and Lindsey intoned in unison, as they i stepped forward
and accepted the infant from the arms of I+i Mary's maid.  They had
been chosen by the queen to represent all those dignitaries who were
official godparents.

"What name do you give this child?"  They both turned toward the queen,
who had aot revealed to them her surprise.

"His name shall be James," Mary said in a clear voice.  For a moment
Jamie was thunderstruck.  That such an honor should be bestowed upon
him was almost more than he could comprehend.  As his wife cradled the
child in her arms and the bishop led them through the ritual of
Baptism, he thought of the strange turns his life had taken.

Who would have dreamed that one day that frightened little orphan would
see the future King of Scotland bearing his name?  Or that the most
beautiful woman in the world would give her heart to him?

Lindsey looked up and caught his gaze, smiling a secret, knowing smile.
He could not wait to return to his own lands, his own home, where
together, they would await the birth of the child she carried.  He had
spent his life seeking adventure.  But he now realized that his love
for the woman beside him was the greatest adventure of all.

After all the research for the four books in this Highland Series, I am
still fascinated with the rugged people who inhabited the Highlands
during the reign of Mary of Scot land and Elizabeth of England.  What a
rich tapestry of politics, religion and intrigue was woven around these
two women and the people whose lives they touched.

I felt that I was discovering my ancestors.  And with each new
character, I fell in love all over again.