Chapter 25
Even though her traveling bags were packed and ready by the door, Rosalyn refused to be undermined by her new husband again. If Lachlan said she should be ready to travel to Fyvie in the morning, she would comply, but she was determined not to hand over the family’s lairdship once they arrived. He’d deceived her into granting the transfer of her surname to his, but she would not allow him to strip her of her rightful inheritance.
Walking over to the lead-glass window, Rosalyn stood gazing at the sky, the dawn about to break in the distance. Kitchen maids scurried about below, drawing water from the deep well in the lower bailey. While Rosalyn acknowledged she envied the women’s freedom, she did not relish the work.
Even though she was a prisoner in marriage, she’d promised herself last night before falling asleep, that she’d find a way to have Fyvie and the lairdship. Yes, she could lead the clan, woman or not. Surely, she’d have much to prove, but she was ready. Ready for any battle. She had her da’s fighting spirit.
As expected, it wasn’t long before the lock in the door turned noisily, letting Rosalyn know someone had come to claim her.
A petite, hooded figure, dressed all in black, materialized on the other side of the door as if aided by witchcraft, making Rosalyn reach for her dirk.
When the mysterious visitor drew back her hood, she grinned at Rosalyn and asked, “Who were you expecting, the king himself?”
Rosalyn relaxed and returned her dagger to boot, grateful she knew this witch. She rushed forward and wrapped Ursula into a big sisterly hug. “I’m so glad ‘tis you,” Rosalyn gushed, not hiding her enthusiasm. “What are you doing here?”
“Escorting you to Aberdeen, of course. You need a lady’s maid and I have volunteered,” she said, stepping back.
“You, a lady’s maid?”
“What? You doubt my skills and sincerity?” Ursula asked as if she’d been wounded.
That made Rosalyn laugh. “Well, I’ve not yet seen you braid hair or change a bed, but I can at least vouch for your healing skills.”
That made Ursula crack a smile again. But just as quickly, her expression turned serious. “Lachlan was in the kitchen early and as was I looking for some rosemary to aid an ailing stomach, I overhead his plans to travel to Fyvie with you this morn before the rest of the castle was up and about.”
Rosalyn sucked in a shaky breath. “Aye, my husband’s actions are no secret to me. I was given two choices, either consummate the marriage or give him the lairdship of Fyvie, complete with the chieftain status.”
Ursula’s brows drew together with concern.
Rosalyn gave her friend a reassuring touch on her arm. “I’ve remained a virgin so far.” Rosalyn teared up, but did not want her eyes red when Lachlan did come for her, so she held them back.
Ursula’s gaze softened and kindness glowed behind the concern. “I know you well, Rosalyn. You’ve given up control of Fyvie now to protect yourself, but I’m sure that will change once you’ve made it back to Aberdeen.”
Rosalyn gave her friend a big squeeze. “Are you sure you want to make this journey?”
“I need a home, too, and I wasnae going to beg, but I hoped you would take me in. And Joshua too.” She hesitated, but then said, “Once we are married. He is on good terms with your clan, and I believe he’ll take my surname as Lachlan did yours.” She winced. “Though I have nae castle or riches to offer him.”
“Nor does he need them because he loves you.” Rosalyn smiled at her friend and squeezed her hand. “Aye, come, be part of my family. I know my mother would welcome another healer and will be happy to invite you to be a sister of mine,” Rosalyn promised, giving Ursula a hug. “And send another missive asking Joshua to meet you near Fyvie,” she urged. “Perhaps this one will reach him.”
They broke their embrace when the door opened and Lachlan entered. He glanced about the room taking note of her packed bags by the entrance. “Good day, Wife. I trust you slept well?” He came to her side and gave her a gentle hug and a peck on the top of her head.
Rosalyn glanced up, ready to give Lachlan an earful, but before she could a Garter knight filled the doorway and cleared his throat before addressing them.
“My lady, are you ready?” the knight asked politely, taking her bags in hand.
Rosalyn nodded. “My maid is joining us and—”
“My things are already on horseback, my lady,” Ursula interrupted with a curtsy, followed by a wink only Rosalyn could see.
The knight bowed slightly. “Well, then, I shall escort you both to the horses,” he offered. “I am certain Sir Lachlan has much to prepare.” He gave her husband a nod and stepped back from the door.
The knight led them first to the great hall, allowing them to pack foodstuffs for the journey, then he followed them down the corridor while Rosalyn exchanged cheese and bread with her friend.
As they walked to their horses and readied their satchels, Rosalyn expressed her confusion over Lachlan’s actions to Ursula. “This morning, he’d appeared as if nothing unusual had transpired the night afore.”
When her confidante shrugged her shoulders without offering a rational explanation, Rosalyn decided to shake off her concerns for now, because love swelled in her heart for the new Highland sister she’d be bringing back to Aberdeen. And relief surged through her as they mounted their horses and readied for the road ahead.
Rosalyn glanced about the group Lachlan had assembled. Four Garter knights, four squires, and two cooks. She was grateful for the protection the king would provide and the charity he’d bestowed on her. However, she was distraught at not being able to say her formal goodbyes to those who had been so kind to her. But before she dug her heels into the palfrey, Rosalyn noticed a white-robed, curly-headed figure rushing across the bailey.
In an instant, she recognized Bishop Passarelli, delighted he must have received word of their early departure. But even as the holy man hustled across the king’s courtyard, Rosalyn couldn’t help but be uneasy about their abrupt escape and inappropriate manners. What guest left before thanking their host?
“Lady Rosalyn,” the bishop called to her as his curls tossed in the brisk breeze. “I must speak to you,” he shouted to her, slightly out of breath.
She was apprehensive as he approached. The bishop had become like an adoptive father to her since they’d met and she was embarrassed that it appeared she was rushing off without a final word.
She leaned low when he approached. He gave her an awkward hug as she sat upon her horse. “Bishop,” she said in her own breathless voice, “I’m so pleased you came to say goodbye.”
“Yes, my dear,” he said, keeping his voice low so only she could hear. “Goodbye with a warning.” His face clouded and his brows drew together in a hard line. “The Golden Rose is still missing, and the king believes either Ethan or Lachlan have stolen it. Perhaps they worked together?”
Rosalyn glanced at her husband, relieved to find him busy talking to the Garter knights. “Bishop, what can I do?” she asked, wanting to tell him what had happened with Lachlan, wishing she could prove her husband had the Rose and to ask the king to lock him up. That would solve all her problems, but of course she couldn’t.
The bishop put his hands together. “I will pray for you, for your path is not easy,” he said with compassion in his eyes, as if he knew everything she had been through. “But I cannot return to Italy until the Rose in the hands of its rightful owner. The king has invited me to stay as an assigned group of knights investigates the Rose’s disappearance. Although His Majesty insists that the pope’s Christian honor does not require a gift such as the Golden Rose, I’m certain the pope would not hear of it, nor would I want to abandon my duty.”
Then his face grew serious. “The king wants you to spy on your husband. And he will compensate you handsomely if you find the Rose.”
Wanting to solve both their problems with one solution she said, “Bishop, I promise I will be vigilant in my observations as I travel with my husband to Fyvie Castle. Ethan attended the wedding, but I’ve yet to see him since. As far as I know, his brother came only to report on his father’s death, and happened upon our wedding day. I imagine Ethan has returned to Somerset to handle his father’s affairs.”
But just as it appeared the bishop was about to say goodbye, an odd question popped into her head. “When the culprit is caught and proven guilty of the crime, what is the punishment?”
The bishop studied her for a few moments before he answered. “The crime has already been committed in the eyes of God, so for me, the guilty party asks for His forgiveness.”
“Yes, Father, of course, but what of the legal punishment?” she asked as her eyebrow twitched involuntarily making her reach and scratch it to hide her reaction.
“That would be the king’s decision of course, but I understand those who are found guilty of a high Scottish crime are hanged.”
“Hanged?” she said louder than she meant to and clapped her hand over her mouth.
“I hear beheadings happen over much less,” he said grimly. Then his gaze softened when he must have realized her concern for her husband.
“Now, as the ambassador to the Golden Rose, I’m certain the king will allow me to have a say in the matter.” He patted her hand. “Do not worry. The return of the Rose is more important than punishing the guilty party, I assure you.” Then he brightened. “And there will be a reward for anyone who aids in its return.”
Rosalyn had to admit that initially she had wondered if her husband had stolen the Rose and ratting him out could be beneficial to her in so many ways. But at the same time, she did not want to be responsible for his death, nor his brother’s. Still, a reward from the king was another matter.
“A reward, bishop?” she asked, then realized she had asked out loud.
The bishop clapped his hands together. “You’ve heard the phrase, a king’s ransom?”
Rosalyn couldn’t help but smile as Lachlan called then for the group to roll out.