The Beauty of the Mist Read Free Page A

to the scene before him. “He’s been to the New World, and he’s gone around Africa, clear to India. He is a fine young man, Sir Thomas.”
    John Macpherson looked on as the watch changed. From the forecastle, a half-dozen men emerged, saluting their leader before scurrying nimbly up the dripping lines of the rigging to their posts aloft. A few moments later, the sailors who’d been relieved began to work their way down to the deck, disappearing forward into the crew’s quarters.
    With the exception of Sir Thomas, the members of the delegation of nobles who were sailing on the Great Michael had hardly stepped foot on deck at all. This certainly suited John.
    In the few brief instances when he’d joined them below, John had found the conversations consisted of the same idle prattle as he’d found in every court in Europe. The last time the Highlander had been below decks, one of the ranking nobles had tried to engage his opinion on Mary of Hungary and her apparent inability to bear any children by her late husband. A bad sign, the nobleman had whispered gravely to the nodding heads around the table. The future queen, he’d said, shaking his head. Barren, undoubtedly. And what would become of the Stuart line then?
    But John had shrugged them off without responding. His duties certainly did not include fortune-telling.
    Leaning out over the side of the vessel, John eyed the sturdy timbers of the hull and considered the knight for a moment. He knew Sir Thomas was keeping an eye on him. And that was perfectly acceptable to him. In fact, remembering Caroline’s style of love play, he had wondered at times if she had already started her games, had begun to make Sir Thomas wild with jealousy. Knowing her so well, John was prepared to respond should the time come, but he was still not sure if her unfortunate husband even knew the game was on.
    The Highlander’s face grew grim. He knew the going could get rough, perhaps even bloody, depending on Sir Thomas. Indeed, if he could get through this voyage without having to deal with Caroline Maule, he would count the trip as miraculous.
    “Tell me, if you would, Sir John, your opinion.” Sir Thomas ran his heavy hands thoughtfully over the wet railing. “How is it that the Holy Roman Emperor Charles, the most powerful monarch this side of Suleiman the Magnificent, agrees to let us convey his sister to her new husband?”
    “Tradition, I assume,” John responded after a pause, glad to see that the man beside him had found an agreeable topic to converse upon. “And the nature of the bargain. If we lose her, there’ll be war to settle the affair—along with a certain demand for the return of the first dowry payment that the Lord Chancellor’s presently keeping in Stirling Castle.”
    The elder man hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words for what was on his mind. “It can all be a...a nasty business. Can it not?” he asked at last under his breath. “Marriage, I mean.”
    “Many believe that to be the case, Sir Thomas.”
    “It doesn’t need to be, you know.” The man continued to stare down at his hands and the dark wood beneath them. “As one who is going through it a second time, I tend to see it differently.”
    John nodded noncommittally.
    “I am inclined to believe that not only royal marriages, but that most betrothals—even among the lowliest—are often ruined by the financial motives that so often bring two families, and hence, a man and a woman, together.” Sir Thomas turned and eyed the warrior. “What’s your opinion on the topic, Sir John?”
    The Highlander knew what he was asking, and he did not mind to speak the truth.
    “I have not found this to be the case in my own personal experience, Sir Thomas. But I believe you are correct in what you say. However, I do believe there are exceptions. And once a union is formed, perhaps love can create the truly lasting bond.”
    “Ah. But what do you think the elements are that foster that