The Daring Heart (The Highland Heather and Hearts Scottish Romance Series) Read Free Page B

distinctly embarrassed.
    Suddenly, the clap of a closing door startled Julian.
    Someone was approaching.
    With nowhere to hide, he had no choice but to abandon his eavesdropping. Leaping lightly onto the top of the wall, he dangled one leg over the side and hesitated just long enough to catch a glimpse of a vibrant green gown before jumping to the other side.
    Was it Liselle?
    He was half-tempted to leap back over and see. But the news that Albany was traveling to Fotheringhay in England was beyond alarming. If he were to gain the support of the English in his quest for the throne, Scotland would be doomed. Cameron had to know. Scotland had to prepare. They could very well be headed for the war that they’d been working for years to prevent.
    For a moment, he pondered what Orazio’s scheme might be and if the man he was sending with Albany was also an assassin. But even if he were, it appeared they were traveling to Fotheringhay and that meant his intended victim would most likely be English. Julian smiled to himself a little. One less Englishman conspiring to wage war against Scotland wasn’t particularly troubling news.
    Striding through the marketplace, Julian headed back down the walled streets of Sarlat. He chuckled once or twice at the mere thought of Nicoletta being a spy, but Albany’s treachery was enough to turn any man’s mood ultimately somber.
    He had to leave for Scotland at once, but not before he left a parting message for the treacherous Scottish prince. Aye, the man was a cur. And he should remain in France, where deception was the way of life. That a Scottish prince would scheme with the English was beyond repulsive.
    Julian blew a breath in disgust.
    Heading for the inn where he knew Albany to be staying, he fished a length of fine silver cord from his pocket.
    God’s Wounds! He’d leave the man a message—a message that would strike fear in his very soul.
    Anger boiled in Julian as his nimble fingers began to weave a Turk’s head knot, the well-known trademark of Le Marin . Years ago, he’d taken to leaving the knot behind whenever he wanted to alarm his adversaries. He’d leave it as a warning but also as a brazen clue to his actual identity. His family had been in the shipping trade for centuries, and the ornate silken knot was an outright declaration of his seafaring heritage. But no one had yet pieced together the clues. They had simply taken to calling him Le Marin, assuming that only a sailor-turned-dangerous-spy would leave a Turk’s head knot behind as a token.
    Finishing the knot with a flourish, Julian slipped it into his pocket. Aye, he’d leave his token on Albany’s pillow, knowing the man would quail in his boots upon seeing it.
    Turning up a narrow street, he arrived at Albany’s inn. And with a confident step, Julian strode through the kitchens, past a man with a face that reminded him of a rat, and up the creaky stairs leading to the Scottish prince’s rooms.
    He nodded at every gent and winked at every lass he met along the busy passageway, grinning as the maidens blushed and giggled. One bright-eyed girl caught his attention in particular. Aye, she might have proved worthy of a diversion if he wasn’t in such a hurry.
    Soon enough, Julian spied the entrance to the prince’s rooms, seemingly left unguarded. He made short work of picking a few locks and was soon placing the Turk’s head knot on Albany’s silken pillow. His deed accomplished, Julian swiftly left the chamber and made his way back to the kitchens, snagging a carrot from the bowl of an unwary cook. Stepping out into Sarlat’s narrow cobbled streets, Julian took in his surroundings. A short distance away, a group of traveling jongleurs were performing in front of a church. They balanced wooden staves upon their heads as a thin and wiry young man held out his cap to collect coins from the clapping bystanders.
    Julian paused to watch them for a moment, leaning against a rough sandstone wall.
    “You mend