Maiden of Inverness Read Free

said, “Moira’s readying your escape. You’ll need your strength for the journey home. You do wish to go home, do you not, my lady? Your mother sore misses you and awaits your return.”
    Her gaze searched Revas’s face, as if she sought reassurance. What could he say? That she should give up her birthright to wed a common lad?
    â€œLady Meridene,” wheedled the man called Thomas. “Think of the Highland people—of your brothers, Robert and William. They await you. Refresh yourself, so I can take you home.”
    Hope glimmered in her eyes. “William. He loves me well.” She drank and coughed.
    Voices sounded in the hall.
    The man Thomas glanced toward the door. “Worry not, Lady Meridene. The English devils will suffer defeat. Your sire has sworn ’tis so.” Then he scurried from the room.
    Staring into the mug, she said, “Will you betray Thomas and me?”
    For as long as tales had been told, the romantic legend of the Maiden had been passed from generation to generation. It must continue; Revas would lay down his life to make it so. “On my honor, nay. Not even should they burn out my eyes.”
    A pained expression pinched her face. She licked her lips, then set the tankard atop the table. “Where do you live?”
    Pleasant conversation was the last thing he expected of her now. But then, she’d been trained in the gentle ways of nobility. Revas had been reared in poverty. “I live aback the butcher’s stall. But the king said he would give me this keep. If you stay, I will learn to protect you. I’ll become a soldier.”
    â€œHave you a sword?”
    â€œNay, but my sire will give me his.”
    â€œI’ve never met a butcher. Is your father a goodly man?”
    Family pride swelled Revas’s chest. “As braw as the king, except—”
    The door flew open. In marched the king, the priest, and the sheriff.
    â€œCome,” said Edward of England. “The church is in readiness.”
    In the time it took to skin a hare, documents were signed and properties transferred. With each activity, the Maiden grew weaker. Kneeling beside Revas in the chapel, she murmured the words, but her voice held little conviction, and she wavered so often, he had to put an arm around her waist to steady her. He accepted the stewardship of Auldcairn Castle, but his thoughts stayed with the girl beside him. Just as the priest made the sign of the cross, she wilted and fell into Revas’s arms.
    Bracing himself, he held her. Her face blanched as white as death, and her black hair trailed to the floor. Her delicate, white hand lay faceup on the stones, lifeless.
    â€œMaiden?” Revas entreated.
    When she moaned, he looked imploringly at the king.
    â€œWhat’s amiss?” Edward leaned close and sniffed her breath. “By the swans, she’s been poisoned.”
    He scooped her into his arms and returned to the castle. In the lord’s chamber, he glared at Revas. “I’ll feed you to the hounds for this, Macduff.”
    She reached for the king’s arm, her fingers pale against his colorful tunic. “Blame not Macduff. ’Twas my father’s man, Thomas.” Her gaze darted to the side door. “In there.”
    Sheriff Brodie flung the door open, but stopped. The red-haired woman lay in a pool of blood, her throat slashed. “He’s gone, Your Majesty. I swear we did not know he was here.”
    Although his face had reddened with anger, the king spoke softly. “Mark me well, Meridene of Inverness, I’ll house you in a place where these Scottish monsters will never find you.”
    â€œMonsters.” Her voice broke, and she closed her eyes.
    â€œAye, lass,” said the king. “Every man with a drop of Scottish blood.”
    Frantic, Revas shook her gently. “Rouse yourself, Lady Meridene.”
    She gasped, clutched her stomach, and doubled over.
    â€œCurse