Bound to a Spy Read online

  “You were looking a bit down a moment ago, and I thought to come over and cheer you up. Although it is presumptuous of me to think that I can lift your spirits.”

  She grinned. “I was thinking that I would love some fresh air.”

  His gaze went to the darkened window. “It’s cold outside,” he said. “What if I take you out tomorrow? We can have a proper go-around of the gardens, unlike our other encounter with the snow.”

  “I would like that,” she said.

  “The gardens are beautiful in the summer. Have you seen them?”

  “Sadly, no. I came to Holyrood in the fall as the blooms were fading.”

  “Do you plan to be here next summer?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “It depends.”

  “On?”

  “On whether I accomplish my mother’s wishes and find myself a husband.”

  “Refreshingly honest,” he said.

  “It’s a terrible trait according to my mother, but I find I can’t be any other way.”

  “No innuendos cloaked in pretty words from you, eh?”

  “I grew up with five brothers. I know many swear words but no innuendos.”

  He laughed, a rich, deep sound that broadened her smile. “I’m sure you received quite the education at the hands of those five brothers.”

  “I can set a rabbit trap. I can hit the center of a target with a well-balanced dagger. I can climb rocks and jump over creeks and I can milk a cow.” She looked around the room of prettily dressed ladies and gentlemen, all well-bred, none probably knew one end of a cow from the other.

  “All admirable traits to possess,” he said.

  She looked at him sharply to see if he was making fun of her or looking down upon her for her special talents. There was none of that in his frank gaze.

  “Is that why you like to be outside more than inside?” he asked.

  “I spent most of my youth outside. My mother had to drag me in by my braids and as soon as she wasn’t looking I was heading back out.”

  “You’re a fascinating creature, Rose Turner.”

  “I’m unsure how to take that statement, Will Sheffield.”

  He grinned again. “It’s the highest compliment.”

  “Then thank you. But I am far less interesting than a lot of the other women here who have traveled the world.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve traveled the world. There are certainly wonderful sights to see and interesting people to meet, but there’s really nothing like home.”

  “And where do you call home?” she asked.

  “Here and there. England sometimes. France sometimes. Right now, Scotland.”

  She tilted her head to study him. “And you call me interesting. I have a feeling there are many stories in that head of yours.”

  “A few.” He seemed slightly uneasy at the turn in conversation. He was far more comfortable talking about her than he was about himself.

  “Tell me one.”

  He appeared surprised. “You should have warned me that I was here to entertain you. I would have prepared better.”

  “There is not one story that you can tell me?”

  “Not one that is appropriate.”

  “You forget that I was raised with all brothers. Inappropriate was an everyday occurrence amongst us.”

  He chuckled. “I’m sure you have plenty of stories as well.”

  “I do, but we aren’t talking about me. We’re talking about you.”

  He stood suddenly and held his hand out to her. She hesitated, surprised at the unexpected movement when she’d been content to sit and banter with him forever.

  Slowly she put her hand in his and he raised her up. “Come,” he said. “I’m feeling the need for a breath of fresh air as well.”

  She glanced back at Margaret and Emma who were both looking a bit alarmed, and waved them away. I’m fine, she mouthed. She completely trusted Will Sheffield. He’d saved her in the library, but even more than that she felt a kinship to him for some strange reason. She was comfortable with him and she couldn’t say that about any other man she’d met. Not even Lord Lysle.

  Especially not Lord Lysle.

  —

  After sending servants to collect their cloaks Will and Rose stepped out of a side door of the palace into the crisp night air. Hell, “crisp” was a mild word compared to what the cold winter night felt like. To Will it felt as if someone was stabbing tiny daggers into his lungs.

  But being uncomfortable—for lack of a better word—was almost worth it when he watched Rose step out of the palace. She lifted her head, closed her eyes and breathed in. She kept breathing in and in and in, her chest rising and rising, a slow smile spreading across her face. Almost instantly her fair complexion pinkened in the cold air.

  “You really do like being outside no matter the weather,” he said.

  Her eyes popped open and she looked at him, the smile still in place. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

  “Rather chilly,” he said, pulling his gaze away to look up at the clear sky and the pinpricks of stars.

  “Oh, it’s not so bad,” she said on a laugh as she wrapped her cloak tighter around her. It was a spring green that matched her eyes.

  “Let’s walk.” He shook himself to stop the illicit thoughts scrambling his brain. She was beautiful in the moonlight. The outdoor air appeared to invigorate her. In the salon she’d seemed…withdrawn. Out here she seemed more alive.

  They walked side by side, her hands tucked into the wide sleeves of her cloak, his clasped behind his back as he scanned the area around them. He was always vigilant, always alert to his surroundings, no matter who he was with or what he was doing. It’d saved his life too many times to count but sometimes he wished he could be carefree and unencumbered by what he had seen and what he had done in his life.

  The tick tick of small ice crystals hitting the ground pulled him from his morbid thoughts. “It’s snowing,” he said.

  “It’s sleeting. That’s ice, not snowflakes.”

  “Don’t you think we should go back since it’s raining ice on us?”

  She giggled, and despite the cold his insides warmed while his head clanged warning bells. He ignored the clanging and kept walking.

  “Just a little bit longer, please.”

  “How can I ignore that heartfelt plea?”

  “I haven’t been outside in days and I felt as if the walls were closing in, squeezing the breath from me.”

  “Why haven’t you been outside in days? The weather has been tolerable for most of us, practically a spring day for you. There has been plenty of opportunity to get some fresh air.”

  She hesitated and Will’s senses sharpened.

  “No opportunity,” she finally said. “I’ve been busy.”

  He didn’t believe her for a moment. He hesitated to speak his mind, opened his mouth and was met with a lungful of frigid air and ice crystals that made him cough. He covered his mouth with a fist and hoped he recovered sufficiently enough without unduly embarrassing himself.

  Funny that he’d never minded being embarrassed in the past.

  When he looked out of the corner of his eye he saw Rose’s lips twitch.

  “We never spoke of what transpired in the, er…in the library the other night.”

  She turned her head away and he almost regretted bringing it up, but it needed to be said, and it stood between them, large and awkward. They both knew it had happened and ignoring it would not make things less awkward.

  “There is nothing to say,” she said. “Maybe we should head back like you had suggested.”

  She made to turn around but Will took her elbow and kept her facing forward. “Just a few minutes longer.”

  “I don’t want to speak of this.” Her voice was tight as if she had something caught in her throat, but she allowed him to lead her on. He could see the lights from the stables now and it proved a warm and welcoming goal.

  “We can’t ignore that it happened.”

/>   “Oh, I’m not ignoring it.”

  “Rose…” He wasn’t sure what to say to her but he knew it had to be brought out in the open and faced.

  “No, Will.”

  “Yes, Rose.”

  She huffed out a breath that formed into an icy cloud which drifted ahead of them.

  “Has this happened before?” he asked, knowing the answer but needing to hear it from her.

  “Yes.”

  “When?”

  She yanked her arm from his grasp and spun to face him. “What does it matter? It’s not as if you can do anything about it.”

  “I can try.”

  “He’s the king. His will trumps everyone else’s. You know this.”

  He pressed his lips together, wanting to deny it but unable to.

  “I am staying away from him,” she said, resuming their walk. “I refuse to be alone in the palace. Emma and Margaret are with me at all times. I won’t be caught unawares again.”

  “That’s good.” He was impressed with the women’s ingenuity but knew that even so the king could force himself on her, regardless of her fearless friends.

  “Hopefully he will leave as soon as the baptism is over.”

  “One can only hope.”

  She turned her head to look at him. “I thought you were friends with him.”

  “I am. Or rather I was. He’s not the same person he’d been when we were in school together. He’s changed.” That part was true although Will and the other classmates could have predicted Darnley’s path in life. He’d always exhibited the mannerisms of a spoiled child.

  “And yet you stay in Scotland, a supposed friend of his. Why?”

  He shrugged. “I will move on soon no doubt but I would at least like to see the prince baptized.”

  “And what will you do when you move on?” There was a catch in her voice, and she had once again turned her head away from him.

  “Return to England probably. I know what you are doing by asking me questions, Miss Rose. I am not finished with this conversation.”

  “Well I am. Besides, there is nothing left to say. Darnley’s head will be turned by another lass soon enough. I just need to wait it out.”

  She might be right. At the moment, Darnley vacillated between rage at Mary, his wounded pride and his lust for Rose. Another woman could easily come across his path and turn his head. Will hoped that would be the case.

  “And what of Lord Lysle?” he asked.

  Rose laughed. “You have been watching me closely, haven’t you?”

  He regretted the last question because it made it appear as if he indeed had been watching her closely. So maybe he had. She was intriguing to be sure, but he was also concerned about the attention Lysle had been giving her, and it wasn’t because she’d turned Lysle’s head like she’d turned Darnley’s.

  Will was convinced that somehow Lysle had connected Rose to the shawl. He wasn’t sure how but his gut was telling him so.

  They reached the stables and Rose entered as if she’d been there many times before. It smelled of hay, horses and leather but best of all it was warm. Rose immediately made her way to the second stall on the right. A chestnut nose poked out and Will heard a small whinny.

  Rose laughed, cupping the velvet nose between both hands and kissing the top of the large head.

  “You know each other well?” Will asked.

  “We do. This is Tyche, who I was telling you about before. I come to visit him and his friends often.”

  “Tyche,” he said, amused. “The goddess of good fortune. But it is a stallion?”

  She laughed. “I know, but the name fits, I suppose.”

  He reached up to touch Tyche’s nose, not yet willing to tell her that Tyche belonged to him.

  Movement at the other end of the stable drew Will’s attention and his hand went to the small dagger secreted at his waist. No one was supposed to be in the queen’s presence with a weapon but Will was damned if he would go weaponless so he hid his.

  A large—very large—man stepped out of a stall and paused when he saw the two of them. He bowed, the action graceful despite his bulk. Will’s gaze met his and the man nodded curtly.

  “Good evening, LaGrange,” Rose said.

  Bloody hell, did the woman know everyone from the stable master to the horses?

  “Miss Turner. You’re here late tonight.”

  “I’ve missed coming here. Lord Sheffield was kind enough to escort me, except I fear I’ve frozen him through.”

  “I’m sure I’ll survive,” Will said.

  LaGrange’s lips twitched but Will couldn’t be certain because the man turned away from them to hang a bucket on a hook.

  “Tyche has missed you,” LaGrange said, his gaze flickering to Will.

  Rose rubbed Tyche’s nose. “I’m sure he missed the treats I bring more than he missed me. I regret not having brought any tonight.”

  “I think I might have something you can give him.” LaGrange closed the distance between them in a few long strides and held an apple out to her, nestled in his large, scarred palm. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint him, would you?”

  Except LaGrange was looking at Will when he said that.

  Rose made a sound of delight and surprise. “Why thank you, LaGrange. That’s very kind of you.”

  Rose fed the horse the apple. The only sound in the stable was Tyche’s teeth crunching the fruit and the shuffling of the other horses.

  Silently LaGrange returned to the other side of the stable and disappeared through the opposite door, leaving them alone.

  “How do you know him?” Will asked.

  “LaGrange? He works in the stables. I think he’s part of the queen’s guard as well but I know him from visiting the stables.”

  “You must come here often then.”

  “Often enough. I come here when things get to be too much at the palace.”

  This was the place where she was happiest. Will could see the pleasure in her eyes. She would much prefer to muck out stables and brush down horses than make small talk in the queen’s salons.

  He reached in and ran his hand down the side of the horse’s neck.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured, but he wasn’t necessarily speaking of the horse.

  Chapter 10

  “I had a feeling you would return,” LaGrange said when Will reentered the stable after making sure Rose had returned safely to her chamber.

  He glanced at Tyche who had poked his nose from his stall and snorted when he saw Will.

  “What do you know about her?” Will asked.

  “Miss Turner?” LaGrange leaned against a stall door and absently patted the horse. “Tyche is her favorite and she brings him treats but she never asks to ride any of them. She’s content to pet and talk to them. That one there adores her.” LaGrange nodded his head toward a gray cat slinking by, sticking to the shadows of the opposite stalls, watching them warily, the tip of its tail twitching. “Miss Turner plays with her babies and that mama never lets anyone close to her kittens, but she lets Miss Turner pick them up. Haven’t ever seen anything like it. How do you know her?”

  “Emma Howard introduced us.” Will hesitated. “There’s more, but not here.”

  LaGrange nodded in understanding.

  Will, Simon and Tristan had all been sent to Scotland about a year ago, after Elizabeth began hearing disturbing rumors that Mary wanted to change the Scottish religion from Protestant to Catholic. LaGrange had been sent to Scotland long before that. So long ago that no one at the palace even remembered a time when he hadn’t been here, but that didn’t affect LaGrange’s loyalty to his English queen nor did it stop his reports to Elizabeth’s spymaster, Walsingham.

  LaGrange had probably forgotten more secrets than Will, Simon and Tristan knew combined.

  Will watched the cat pad by. “If you ever see Rose alone with Darnley, send word to me.”

  LaGrange eyed him thoughtfully. “Aye.”

  Will looked around. They were very much a
lone except for the sleepy horses and the lone cat who had stopped to lick her paw and watch the two humans. “I hear the Sword and Stone has the best ale on High Street.”

  LaGrange seemed to think about that for a moment. “Aye. Had it myself not long ago.”

  Will nodded. “I might try it tomorrow afternoon.”

  With a final pat of Tyche’s nose he walked out of the stables and into the cold. The ice was still pattering against the ground and the temperature had dropped considerably. He looked up at the imposing rise of the north side of the palace and the darkened windows, counting up and over to find Rose’s window. It was dark but he thought he might have detected the flicker of a single candle. The ice hit his upturned face, stinging his cheeks and forehead as he stood there like a mooning lad, worry churning in his gut.

  Rose was frightened of Darnley, which she should be, but she was in far more danger from Lysle, and Will had no idea how to tell her or if he even should tell her.

  Would giving her the knowledge upset his mission? And how could he warn her to avoid the man without saying why? Rose was intelligent. She would want answers and she wouldn’t be happy unless she had them.

  —

  LaGrange met Will and Tristan at the print shop late the next afternoon. LaGrange had been here one other time, when Simon had to flee from Scotland because Queen Mary was going to arrest him for treason. It was LaGrange who had provided the horses Simon and Aimee rode out on.

  Will and Tristan explained to LaGrange what they had learned about Moray, Maitland and the plot to kill the king. LaGrange didn’t seem surprised, but then again LaGrange had been a spy far longer than Will and Tristan put together. He never gave anything away by even a flicker of an eyelid.

  “You need to return to the cellar where they meet,” LaGrange said. “I don’t feel they’re smart enough to vary their meeting places or times. They’re too arrogant and more than likely feel that no one can catch them. Go back and listen. We need more information. When and where would be beneficial.”

  Will nodded. This was why there needed to be casualties. He’d spent far too much time thinking of Rose and not enough time thinking about the plan to kill Darnley.

  “I thought we had decided that you would leave off the chit,” Tristan said. Tristan was a calm individual. Nothing ever riled him. In all his years of being a spy he had not lost his sense of humor or sunny disposition. However, right now he seemed critical, and Will knew he deserved it. They had agreed that Will was to step away and leave Rose be, and Will had not been able to do that.