Intrigued Read Free

seems to me that those who murder God’s chosen monarch are the real traitors.”
    “Autumn!” her brother pleaded, anguished.
    “Oh, no one is listening, Charlie,” Autumn said airily.
    He shook his head wearily. He had never thought when his mother asked him to allow Autumn to visit this summer that she would prove to be such a handful. He kept thinking of her as his baby sister, but as she had so succinctly pointed out to him earlier, she was going to be nineteen in another month’s time. He wondered why his mother and stepfather had not found a suitable husband for Autumn; but then he remembered the difficulties they had had marrying off his two elder sisters. And who the hell was there in the eastern Highlands for the Duke of Glenkirk’s daughter to marry? Autumn had needed to go to court, but these last years of civil war had made such a visit impossible, and then his Uncle Charles had been executed. Now what English court there was existed in exile, sometimes in France, sometimes in Holland. He didn’t know what they were going to do with this sister, but he suspected they had better do it soon, for Autumn was ripe for bedding and could easily find her way into mischief.
    The day he had planned on going to Worcester a messenger from Glenkirk arrived before dawn. It was early October. The clansman had had a difficult time eluding the parliamentary forces in Scotland but, moving with great caution, he had finally managed to cross over the border. From there he had made his way easily to Queen’s Malvern. Grim-faced and obviously quite exhausted, he told the duke his news was for Lady Autumn first. The duke sent for his wife and sister, who came quickly, still in her dressing gown, hearing her visitor was a Glenkirk man.
    “Ian More! Has my father sent you to escort me home?” Autumn asked excitedly. “How is my mother? ’Tis good to see one of our own.”
    Wordlessly—and, the duke noted, with tears in his eyes—the messenger handed the letter to Autumn. “ ’Tis from yer mam, m’lady.”
    Eagerly Autumn broke the seal of the missive and opened it. Her eyes scanned the parchment, her face growing paler as her eyes flew over the written words, a cry of terrible anguish finally escaping her as she slumped against her brother, obviously terribly distraught, the letter slipping from her hand to fall to the carpet. She was shaking with emotion.
    The clansman picked up the parchment, handing it to the duke, who now had an arm about his sister. Charlie quickly read his mother’s words to her daughter, his handsome face contorting in a mixture of sorrow and anger. Finally laying aside the letter, he said to the clansman, “You will remain until you are rested, Ian More, or does my mother wish you to stay in England?”
    “I’ll go back as soon as the beast and I have had a few days’ rest, m’lord. Forgive me for being the bearer of such woeful tidings.”
    “Stable your horse, and then go to the kitchens for your supper. Smythe will find you a place to sleep,” the duke told the messenger. Then he turned to comfort his sister, who had begun to weep piteously.
    “What is it?” Bess asked her husband, realizing that the news the Glenkirk man had brought was very serious.
    “My f-father i-is d-d-dead!” Autumn sobbed. “Ohh, damn Master Cromwell and his parliamentary forces to hell!” She pulled from her brother’s gentle embrace and ran from the family hall where they had been seated.
    “Oh, Charlie, I am so sorry!” Bess said. She looked after her young sister-in-law. “Shall I go after her?”
    The duke shook his head. “Nay. Autumn considers such a public show of emotion on her part a weakness. She has been that way since her childhood. She will want to be alone.”
    “What happened?” Bess queried her husband.
    “Jemmie Leslie died at Dunbar in defense of my cousin, King Charles. He should not have gone, not at his age, not with the history of misfortune the Stuarts always seem to visit