“There was an attack in Paris.”

Vivienne winced at Kieran’s blunt words, spoken before the King and the others gathered around the table, but they were true.

After indulging in a divinely long bath and dressing in her gray wool gown—shamefully plain for holding court with a King, but there was no getting around that—she’d found Kieran waiting for her outside her door, as promised.

He’d led her through a series of corridors, but instead of returning to the palace’s great hall, they’d arrived at a chamber that was clearly meant for the King’s private meetings.

A simple meal of buttered bread, stew, and ale was laid out on the long, rectangular table that took up most of the room. The King had already been seated at the table’s head at the far end. A handful of other people stood inside as well.

Vivienne was introduced to the others, a most unusual group of men and women who were all apparently part of the King’s inner circle. Elaine and Jerome were there, blessedly familiar faces amongst the curious gathering. Colin and Sabine MacKay greeted her warmly, as did Elaine’s brother Niall. Will Sinclair assessed her coolly with his one eye. Most strange of all was Mairin, a young woman with quiet, watchful gray eyes who sipped whisky with several of the Scottish men as they ate their meal.

Once the introductions were complete and everyone was seated at the table, Kieran had launched directly into news of the attack.

At Kieran’s curt announcement about the incident at the palace, the King sat forward abruptly.

“What sort of attack?” he demanded with a frown.

“The sort that confirmed my suspicions about de Soules,” Kieran replied gruffly.

“Retreat a wee bit,” the King said, holding up a hand. “How did King Philip receive ye? Was there any indication of danger in his court before ye arrived?”

Kieran lowered himself into a chair beside Vivienne. “Philip was most accommodating. He was distressed to learn that we suspected de Soules’s lackeys might still be on the loose in France, and eager to help in any way he could.”

The Bruce nodded, his weathered features relaxing somewhat. “Good.”

Vivienne blinked in surprise. It had never occurred to her that the Bruce might not fully trust King Philip, yet the assassination attempt against him had been fomented in part on French soil. Luckily, her French King seemed to have passed whatever assessment the Bruce had sought to make of him.

“And as to any danger before I arrived…” Kieran turned to her.

She swallowed, collecting her composure before the motley gathering. “Non, Majesté,” she replied. “The palace was quiet before Kieran’s arrival. Though my actions against de Soules were known, there was no indication of danger.”

“Lady Vivienne, I allow a certain informality when I am alone with my closest advisors and the members of the Bodyguard Corps. Since ye played no small part in saving my life, ye may call me Robert in private.”

Vivienne straightened in her chair, pressing her lips together for a moment as she determined how best to refuse a King. “Non, Majesté,” she simply said at last.

His russet brows rose and a soft ripple of chuckles traveled around the table.

“Nay?” the Bruce said, clearly baffled.

“Non. You are the King. It would not be right.”

Now Colin was outright laughing into his hand. Sabine elbowed him, but she couldn’t reach Kieran, who snorted and shot her a look that made heat rise to her cheeks.

“Well,” the Bruce said. “Suit yerself, I suppose.”

“Never thought I’d see King Robert the Bruce take orders from a wee French lass, and one who was arguing for propriety at that,” Colin murmured, drawing another wave of chuckles from the others before Sabine could swat his shoulder.

The Bruce leveled Colin with a look that likely would have sent another man’s knees quaking with fear, but the camaraderie between the King and his inner circle was plain to see.

“Back to the matter at hand,” the Bruce said briskly. He and the others sobered as they refocused on Kieran. “What of this attack?”

Kieran described first noticing the suspicious gardener, then following him into the hedge maze after Vivienne. When he told of tearing through the maze to find the man looming over Vivienne, about to strike, an involuntary shudder swept over her.

Elaine reached across the table and squeezed her hand reassuringly. Kieran went on, giving a terse explanation of killing the man.

“I should have left him alive long enough to question him,” Kieran said, his voice edged with anger. “But I wasnae thinking clearly in the moment. Still, I am certain he was one of de Soules’s men. He didnae go for coin or…” He gritted his teeth. “…Or aught else of Vivienne’s. His only purpose was to kill her.”

The room fell silent for a long moment.

“We have to assume the threat came from de Soules, Robert,” Colin said quietly.

The King muttered a curse, tugging on his beard. “Simply killing the man willnae solve this problem, ye ken. He’ll be made a martyr by those still loyal to him. And in any case, his cronies are clearly acting independently of him, for he is rotting in the bowels of the palace as we speak.”

Though she knew she was safe with Kieran at her side and several members of the King’s elite Bodyguard Corps surrounding her, Vivienne couldn’t repress another shiver of foreboding. And unfortunately, thinking of William de Soules, the seemingly unassuming man she’d met at court earlier that summer, sitting far below her in a dungeon cell, gave her surprisingly little comfort.

He was a man capable of plotting the assassination of his own King, and whose followers wanted her dead. How could she ever hope to be truly safe from that sort of fanaticism?

As if reading her troubled thoughts, Kieran planted his elbows on the table and fixed the Bruce with a steady stare.

“We will be departing Scone as soon as possible—tomorrow morn, if ye’ll give us two strong steeds, Robert.”

Across from them, Will frowned, and Vivienne had to resist the urge to draw back from his fierce visage. “Surely ye cannae think the lass is in danger here at the palace.”

“Ye’re damn right I do,” Kieran replied bluntly. “It was within the bloody palace’s walls that de Soules and the other nobles plotted their rebellion. And if de Soules has men seeking to avenge him in France, he sure as hell could have others here in Scotland—in Scone itself, for that matter.”

Kieran turned his gaze back to the Bruce. “Ye requested that I bring Vivienne here so that ye could thank her for her aid. Well, I’ve done that, but ye kenned I didnae intend for her to stay here in the public eye.”

The Bruce bristled slightly at Kieran’s tone, his mouth tightening with annoyance behind his beard, but after a moment, he dipped his head in acknowledgement.

“Aye, that was the deal. And will ye still insist on keeping yer destination from us?”

Kieran shifted in his chair. “All I’ll say is that we are bound for the Highlands.”

A few of the others, including Will and Colin, frowned, but Kieran’s features were set in stone, his cool gaze daring anyone to challenge him.

“The clear danger presented to Lady Vivienne justifies yer secrecy,” the Bruce said, steepling his hands in front of his mouth. “It also justifies adding more members of the Corps to her guard. Mayhap ye should take Niall with ye. Or Mairin.”

“The lad is too green,” Kieran replied without hesitation. “Besides, I wouldnae leave it to an Englishman to watch my back, Corps member or nay.”

Niall jerked in his chair, his bright blue eyes flashing with anger. “I’ve pledged my loyalty just like you, MacAdams. And I’ve been training in the Highlands these past four years—”

“And the wee Mackenzie isnae ready for an assignment, either,” Kieran went on, ignoring Niall and eyeing Mairin. The young woman remained silent, her wide gray eyes guarded.

The Bruce cleared his throat, and the room instantly fell quiet.

“Ye proved right that de Soules still has lackeys willing to harm our allies, MacAdams,” the King said, his voice grudging. “And ye saved Lady Vivienne’s life.” He gave Vivienne a little nod. “Because of those things, ye’ve earned my respect. But it seems to me ye still need to learn a thing or two about being a member of a team.”

Kieran rolled his shoulders. “Ye entrusted me with Vivienne’s protection, and that’s what I’m doing. I wouldnae have been a verra good choice for the mission if I needed to rely on others to see it done.”

The Bruce considered Kieran’s words, his dark, keen gaze settling on Vivienne. She remained still, but inside she was a tangled knot of worry.

It was disconcerting enough to be sitting at a table with the King of Scotland and his most trusted confidantes, all of whom were focused on her safety at the moment. Yet far more disturbing was how serious Kieran and the others were taking the threat against her.

Ever since the gardener’s attack, she’d been forced to accept the fact that she was indeed a target. But with no danger greater than seasickness since then, some part of her had hoped that the entire matter could be resolved sooner rather than later and she could return to her old life at the French court.

What was more, her protection had apparently become some sort of unspoken battleground between Kieran and the others. Of course she knew Kieran could be an overprotective, domineering brute when he chose to be, but he seemed intent on proving that he could see to her safety all on his own.

At last, the King reluctantly nodded. Kieran had won this battle, if not the larger fight.

Which meant she and Kieran would be thrown together—alone—yet again. Vivienne would be whisked away somewhere into the heart of the Highlands, even farther away from everything she knew in this world. And with only Kieran to protect her.

Now if she could only manage to protect herself from the traitorous stirrings in her heart.