Chapter Thirteen
Stirling Castle
Four days later
“You’ll not be marrying Alexander Macpherson.”
She had to be misunderstanding the king’s words. That was the only possibility. It couldn’t be happening. None of this could be happening.
Elizabeth glanced around at the colorful assembly. At the center of it all, King James sat in the plush, carved chair his household had conveyed from Edinburgh. He motioned to the young nobleman standing by to refill his wine goblet. A musician was strumming a lyre in the corner. The monarch looked back at her.
“You’ve received your instructions,” he said. “You’re dismissed.”
When she’d been summoned to the king’s receiving chamber, Elizabeth hadn’t any idea of the reason. But this? This was cruel. What had she done to deserve such a command? Such a punishment?
“Are you still here?” The king glared at her.
She looked at the short man perched in his oversized chair. Something about his face worried her. It was his eyes. They were alert, constantly darting about as if expecting some potential attack to materialize at any moment. Alexander was right; the man did not inspire confidence. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous.
“Are you deaf, woman?”
“Nay, sire. I’m only trying to take in what you said.”
“I said you’ll not be marrying Macpherson. It’s not difficult.”
The wedding was set for tomorrow. Last night after dinner, she and Alexander had stolen a few moments alone in the gardens. They’d talked about their marriage and the trip he intended to take her on around the Orkneys. He told her a second wedding celebration would take place at Benmore Castle. All good. All joyful.
And then this morning the king had arrived.
“But begging your pardon, m’lord,” Elizabeth said, deciding to speak her mind. “We have a marriage contract that was signed and sealed decades ago. Our families—”
“I’m not interested in such details.”
She stared for a moment, unsure of how to respond. She wished she’d met with Alexander before coming here. Did he know about this? Had he received the same abrupt command?
“If I’ve done something to offend Your Majesty, I beg you to tell me,” she said.
“What could you do to offend me?” he scoffed. “The decisions of the monarch are as far above you as the sun is above the earth.”
She loved Alexander. She would not accept this without a fight. If King James expected her to surrender their future together without an explanation, then he was truly a fool. “Of course, sire. But if you could condescend to give me a reason for breaking this contract.”
“Reason?” he barked.
“Reason,” she repeated in what she hoped was a calm voice. “More than an old promise binds us, m’lord. Alexander—”
The king shot to his feet, his face aflame. “My word is reason enough,” he rasped. “But I’ll tell you this. He will be my Lord Admiral and he will marry the woman I choose. And that will be Anne, daughter of the duke of Brittany. And if you try to challenge my wishes, I shall strip Macpherson of his position and put his head on a pike. Is that reason enough?”
The silence in the chamber was chilling. Even the musician had stopped playing.
The king sat down again, picking up his wine off the table. “Now get out, woman. You can save your wedding dress for another day.”
Striding though the gates of Stirling Castle, Alexander glared up at the White Tower and vowed he would take the blasted place down stone by stone if that was what it took to find her.
The letter he’d received from Elizabeth came in answer to the message he’d sent her before the bloody storm. She was pretending as if this past week hadn’t happened. That they’d never walked down the hill toward Cambuskenneth Abbey. That they hadn’t been stranded by the floods. That they hadn’t made love. That they hadn’t planned a life together.
Elizabeth’s letter said she wouldn’t marry him tomorrow.
Alexander didn’t need to batter down any walls. In the gardens of the Nether Bailey, he found her standing with one of the queen’s companions by a low wall looking out toward the abbey. As he approached, the look on his face was enough to send the other woman scurrying.
He held the letter out. “What do you mean by this?”
And then he saw it. The swollen eyes. The tears running down her face.
“Elizabeth, what’s wrong?” He didn’t give her a chance to protest but took her into his arms. She came willingly as sobs wracked her body. “Talk to me. Why this letter? What has upset you?”
It was some time before she could catch her breath and speak. She pulled away and looked up at the castle buildings. “Not here. Someone might see us.”
“I don’t care if the whole bloody court sees us,” he told her. “Why should we hide?”
Elizabeth took him by the hand and drew him into an alcove by the stairs. Perplexed, he ran a thumb under her eyes and lifted her chin. It broke his heart to see her so distraught. He brushed his lips against hers and tasted the saltiness of the tears.
“Tell me,” he said.
She put her forehead against his chest for a moment and then looked up at him. “The king summoned me this morning. He has commanded that I not marry you.”
If Elizabeth were not so upset, he would have laughed out loud. For a wee man, James Stewart had stones the size of cannon balls. They were far more impressive than the pea-sized brain he had rattling around in his skull.
But Alexander didn’t laugh. He couldn’t. Everything made sense now. He understood Elizabeth’s letter.
“The haughty worm said the same thing to me this morning,” he told her. “He must not have been too pleased with my answer, so he came after you.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him I had no wish to be Lord Admiral of his navy. I’d not be part of rebuilding a fleet for him. I’m not the man for him. And I’ll not marry anyone but you.”
Her blue eyes shone with tears. “You said that?”
“Aye, but it looks like I should have taken him by the throat instead.” He wiped away the wetness from her silky cheeks. “And if the man were worth my time, I would have told him that no title or wealth would ever convince me to walk away from the greatest treasure in my life. Nay, Elizabeth. We’ll marry tomorrow. He cannot spoil that.”
“But he can,” she cried out as fresh tears appeared. “He threatened your life if I disobey.”
Alexander wasn’t surprised that the king wouldn’t make the same threat to him face-to-face. But the petulant coward had no compunction about frightening Elizabeth with his empty words.
“James is a scoundrel and a fraud, my love, and a petty one at that. He’s only saying these things because I turned him down and because Margaret has been crowing about bringing us together.”
“But he threatened your life,” she repeated. “He’ll put your head on a pike. He told me!”
“Let him try. He can’t do it.”
She shook her head. “He’s the king, Alexander. He can do what he wishes.”
“And I am Macpherson of Benmore Castle,” he said firmly. “I am a Highlander, with more allies among the nobility of Scotland than—”
She put her fingers over his lips, hushing him. “Don’t speak treason. Don’t give him any more reason to hurt you. I love you. I can’t bear to have you get hurt.”
“And I love you. I will drag him from the throne if I must. He won’t dare step in between us.”
However upset she was before, she was worse now. He frowned, realizing he’d only added to her anguish.
“I can manage this, Elizabeth. His words are empty threats.”
“I can’t.” She shook her head, stepping away from him. “I can’t do this. I love you. I can’t put you in danger this way.”
“Trust me, my love, when I say he has no hold on us. No power over us.”
“I can’t. I can’t risk it.”
“Tomorrow we’ll be wed. And you’ll see it for yourself. He’s tried to create an illusion to frighten you. Something that cannot be.”
“Nay,” she wept. “I won’t do it.”
“Elizabeth!”
“I won’t be there tomorrow,” she cried, running off.
* * *
They say there are no secrets in a castle. Elizabeth didn’t know how it was that her father learned of her torment, but she was glad when he came to her. She needed help. She needed advice on how to seal up the gaping hole in her heart.
She loved Alexander. But she could not understand his recklessness when it came to the king’s threats.
As she sat side by side with Ambrose on the bench in a private corner of the castle’s gardens, the entire story tumbled out. She told him everything the king said. She told him of Alexander’s attitude.
“Do you understand now why I’m so miserable?” she asked. “Do you see why I cannot go to the church for my own wedding?”
“I understand,” the old man said quietly. “Why haven’t you brought this to Queen Margaret’s attention?”
“That would be a mistake. The queen has no influence over King James. Her involvement would only complicate the situation and make it worse.”
“That is quite astute of you.” Ambrose nodded. “Now you say Alexander is not responding reasonably to this threat.”
“The man is a warrior. He fears nothing. He thinks he is invincible. He has no respect for the power of the king. He believes this is simply a battle of wills that he can win.”
“And you don’t?” her father asked. “You don’t trust his judgment in this?”
She stood up, wringing her hands. How could she explain her fears? “It’s his life that’s at risk. His life!” She started to pace. “Would he behave the same way if the king threatened to put my head on a pike? I think not.”
Ambrose’s face showed his outrage at the mere suggestion. “I think Macpherson would gut the king like a cod before that happened.”
“Father!”
“Daughter, James Stewart is not foolish enough to make such a threat to so dangerous a man as your Alexander.”
Elizabeth had been a part of court life long enough to know how dangerous the politics could be. She’d heard too much about lethal attacks in the shadows in retaliation for the slightest of insults, and imprisonment for the mere suspicion of treason. Tales were still told of all the noble heads the king had stuck on pikes both here and at Edinburgh.
“Don’t be influenced by rumor,” he ordered sharply as if reading her mind. “Trust him, Elizabeth.”
She faced her father. “How can I when I’ll be placing the noose around his neck?”
“Trust him when he tells you this is all petty maneuvering by the king.”
She wanted to scream with frustration. This was petty maneuvering by a man who was no more mature than a wee child. A very dangerous and powerful child.
“The stories have been circulating for a fortnight that your nuptials wouldn’t take place. But Margaret proved them all wrong.” Ambrose Hay stood up and took her hand in his. “And very little irritates the king more than seeing his queen happy.”
Today was the first time that she’d met the tyrant. Elizabeth had no difficulty believing that James would go to such extremes simply to annoy his spouse.
“If you do not show up at the Chapel of St. Michael tomorrow,” her father continued, “no one will know that you were threatened. The court and the guests who have arrived will believe that the queen overstated her success. She will look foolish, and the king will win.”
This was what the ruler of their country spent his time doing? Something so trivial? Sadly, Elizabeth knew it was the truth.
“This is life, daughter. You say you love Alexander. Trust and love are two of the pillars of a good marriage,” the older man advised. “You said it yourself. He is a fearless warrior. He thinks he’s invincible. Well, his achievements support that. The king’s offer of leading his navy was based on Macpherson’s abilities, his power, and his judgment. Don’t you think it’s time that you trusted him, as well?”
She did trust Alexander, but that wasn’t enough. What if King James decided to arrest Alexander to make certain the ceremony tomorrow didn’t happen? How far the man would be willing to go to see his wife fail?
She turned to her father. “I need your help.”
“Anything. Tell me.”
“I’ll write another letter to Alexander this moment. Tell him that my decision is final and he’ll be standing at that altar alone tomorrow. That we shall not marry.” She took her father’s hand. “Arrange for the letter to be intercepted and read by the king’s men before it reaches my intended.”