Bound to a Spy Page 8

  “I came upon the lass wrapped in Darnley’s arms and it was not a welcome embrace,” Will said, noting that LaGrange’s face darkened at the mention of Rose being accosted by Darnley. Did the man harbor feelings for Rose as well?

  As well as what?

  Will did not harbor feelings for Rose other than concern for her safety what with Darnley’s attentions fixed on her and Lysle’s sudden interest in her. Neither man had romance on their brains while they pursued Rose and she was naïve not to realize it. Someone needed to protect her.

  “Damn that man,” Tristan said with feeling. “He is the worst rogue and rake.”

  “He’s a bastard,” Will said. “And he’s intent on having her.”

  LaGrange’s head snapped up and his nostrils flared. It seemed as if Rose had entrapped another English spy.

  “I can’t leave her to that fate,” Will said.

  “Can’t or won’t?” Tristan asked sharply.

  Will shrugged. “Won’t.”

  —

  Over the next few days Rose was plagued with guilt and longing. Longing for Will, a man unsuitable for what her mother had sent her here for. And guilt of her knowledge regarding the king. Darnley was a terrible person, but did that mean she should wish—want—him dead?

  That wasn’t like her. She was a woman who loved animals and who enjoyed life. Wasn’t she the one who always brought the wounded and ill home to nurse?

  Then who was this woman who kept this deadly secret to herself?

  It was these thoughts that kept her awake at night and left a knot in her stomach. And it was these thoughts that drove her to the chapel and onto her knees in prayer. Her family attended services every week. They prayed together every night but normally she went through the routine only because it was expected of her.

  She was kneeling on the hard, cold, stone floor when movement to her far left had her lifting her head to find that Will was also on his knees, his dark head bent over his clasped hands, his wide shoulders rounded beneath his velvet doublet. She stared at the way his shoulders tapered to a trim waist and his leg muscles bunched as he knelt. When she realized what she was doing she yanked her gaze away and bowed her head, squeezing her eyes closed.

  She was here to ask for God’s guidance with a difficult decision and instead she was daydreaming about Will’s body! She was going to hell.

  Rose spent the next half hour pretending to ignore Will and trying to ask for God’s help in the dilemma with the king but she was failing miserably. He was such a large presence, nearly overpowering her senses, and she had a feeling that the other three people in the chapel weren’t nearly as affected by Will as she was.

  She breathed out a sigh of relief—and maybe a wee bit of regret—when Will pushed himself to his feet and walked out without even casting a glance her way. Had he not seen her kneeling here? Had he not been aware of her at all?

  Oh, what a ninny she was. Of course he didn’t care if she was here or not.

  She rested her forehead on her folded hands and let the words to God come to her.

  An hour later she rose, her knees creaking from kneeling on the hard ground for so long.

  She had her answer. She wasn’t certain if God had spoken to her or if her mind had cleared enough to think rationally but she knew what she had to do.

  She had to go back to the cellar and prove to herself that what she’d heard was true and not something that she thought she heard or made up.

  And if it was true then she needed to tell the queen.

  Mary would know what to do.

  Chapter 11

  One could say that Will and God had parted ways long ago. Too many of Will’s prayers had gone unanswered. He’d witnessed too many horrific things to ever believe there was an all-knowing being that orchestrated everything.

  Famine. Death. Suffering. Murder. Depravity.

  Who would ever conceive of these things let alone allow them to flourish without intervention?

  No. He did not believe in God.

  And yet when he’d passed the chapel that morning something had drawn him inside. He’d taken a seat at the very back in the corner, not to pray but to sit and think. It was as good a place as any to think.

  Eventually he’d found himself on his knees, his hands folded because that was what the others were doing. Granted there were only three others because it was well past morning prayers and most people were breaking their fasts. The emptiness was part of the charm of the chapel. It was peaceful.

  In his line of work Will had learned to grab peace when he could and to cherish silence when it came. The chapel offered both.

  And apparently, it also offered Rose.

  He knew the instant she walked in. The brush of her skirts, the tapping of her shoes upon the stone floor caused instant recognition. His blood churned faster when she was near and his senses were more alert.

  His peace had certainly vanished.

  She’d sat on the opposite side of the chapel, going to her knees and bowing her head, appearing much more devout than he was. He could only focus on his awareness of her and of the way the candles bounced off her fiery hair and warmed her peach-toned skin. Her form was slim, her waist barely a hand span and yet that tiny body wielded a mighty warrior woman who’d learned to fight and hunt and climb rocks with her brothers.

  A woman who had caught the attention of the king.

  Will made sure to keep his head bent, to appear to be holding a conversation with a God he did not believe in. But eventually he knew he’d have to leave or else look the fool staying there. Or he supposed he could have looked devout, or maybe like he’d had a whole lot to say to God.

  Did Rose prefer a devout man?

  Did it matter? He was not devout, and he was not a man that would pursue her.

  With that thought he exited the chapel, forcing himself to not look at her as he passed. But he breathed deep, hoping to catch the scent of lavender and roses and vanilla.

  Now he was scrunched in the corner of the cellar waiting for the devious lords to arrive for their meeting. He had no idea if they were coming tonight. He’d been in this position the last three nights waiting for them, hoping they hadn’t moved the location, praying they’d given up on their deadly mission. He’d kept an eye on them during the day but they were rarely seen together—at least they were smart in that aspect. Lysle had left Holyrood to attend to business on his estate but had suddenly reappeared this afternoon. That had given Will hope that there would be a meeting tonight so he had come down here early to secure his place. And he waited.

  And he thought.

  Mostly he thought of Rose. And then he cursed himself for thinking of Rose.

  And then, suddenly, Rose was there, slipping through the side door and pressing her back against it. For a long moment Will could only stare at her in disbelief. Surely his thoughts had conjured an image of her and she really wasn’t standing in the shadows of the cellar looking scared and alone.

  She was wearing a black gown but her skin was so pale—even paler due to her fear—that she shone like a beacon.

  The shuffling of feet coming down the cold steps catapulted him into action and he launched himself out of the corner, lunging toward Rose. Her gaze jerked to him, a madman coming at her, hands outstretched. Her mouth opened in a scream.

  Will reached her before she could make a sound, pressing his palm against her mouth and pulling her into his chest.

  “It’s me,” he whispered into her ear as he dragged her back to the dark alcove.

  He felt the moment that she recognized him. Her body collapsed against his and a slight tremor ran through her.

  The heavy steps were getting closer and Will thanked the stars that she was wearing dark clothing, which begged the question why was she wearing dark clothing and in the cellar.

  He pressed her back against the slick stone wall just as the approaching feet passed the opening. Will pressed his forehead against Rose’s and closed his eyes, hoping and praying
that his dark clothes and dark hair would hide them sufficiently.

  Rose tucked her chin into his chest, and he could feel her warm breath through his doublet and shirt. He had to suppress a shiver that felt far too much like longing. Her body was tucked protectively against him but also perfectly against him, her small hands folded so that they were placed between their bodies.

  He could smell nothing but the fresh scent of roses, lavender and vanilla. He inhaled deeply just to absorb it into himself.

  “There are more,” he whispered, referring to the rest of the men coming into the cellar.

  She nodded but kept silent as the men filed into the small room before they closed the door.

  Rose let out a deep breath and pulled away, leaving Will feeling cold and alone.

  “What are you doing here?” he whispered.

  “What are you doing here?” She was still pale with fear but she looked determined.

  “I think you know.”

  She turned guarded and wary and pressed her lips together. “I come through that doorway all the time. I found it a few weeks ago when I was caught in a rainstorm.”

  “And you were here the other night when they were discussing…things.” He tipped his chin in the direction of the room the other lords had entered.

  She was caught between his body and the corner of the alcove but for good measure Will placed a hand on either side of her head and leaned forward. He wanted her scared. He wanted her to know just how serious this was.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” he said.

  She lifted her small chin and looked up at him with those luminous green eyes. He could only make out the pale oval of her face, but he pictured how those eyes would look.

  “I have a feeling you shouldn’t be here either,” she said.

  If he’d thought to scare her or intimidate her he’d thought wrong. She was neither scared nor intimidated. Rather she appeared irritated.

  He straightened suddenly.

  “Stay here,” he warned. He made his way to the entrance of the alcove and strained to hear what was being said on the other side of the wooden door. He wished he’d been able to see who had entered and cursed Rose for being a distraction.

  She was standing beside him before he even knew she’d moved and with a fierce scowl he waved his hand indicating that she was to go back to the corner from where she came.

  She simply looked at him and remained where she was. The damn woman. Didn’t she know what was best for her? Didn’t she know that he was trying to keep her safe?

  The door to the small room was not thick or sturdy. The room was probably not meant to hold anything more valuable than barrels of onions and turnips.

  “She won’t agree to the divorce,” someone said on the other side. It sounded like Maitland but Will couldn’t be certain. He assumed they were talking about Queen Mary and the suggestion that she divorce Darnley.

  “The church would approve based on consanguinity,” another said.

  “She won’t do it.” This voice was different but sounded familiar. Will searched his memory, trying to recall where he had heard it before but was coming up blank. “She says it will jeopardize James’s rise to the throne. People will doubt his paternity. She’ll do everything in her power to protect the prince’s right to ascend to the throne, and if that means not divorcing Darnley then she won’t divorce him.”

  Silence on the other side indicated that the others were digesting this bit of information.

  A small, chilled hand curled around Will’s fingers. He desperately wanted her away from here. At least back in the corner so she couldn’t hear what was being said. But she stayed stubbornly at his side, listening as intently as he.

  “There really is only one other choice.”

  The others murmured unintelligible sounds, but appeared to be in agreement.

  “In order to be free of the scourge of the king and to protect Scotland from his embarrassing displays of childish behavior he must die,” one of them said.

  “I see no other choice,” another said. “He’s a threat to us all.”

  Will grabbed Rose’s wrist and yanked her toward the hidden door to the outside. He had a desperate need to get her out of there, to get her away from the evilness that presided not far from them.

  Cold air swirled in bringing a few snowflakes with it. He pushed Rose out the door and followed her, closing it softly but firmly behind him.

  They stood in the hushed silence of the deep winter night and inhaled deeply, their exhaled breath floating between them in soft white clouds.

  Their gazes locked and held. Will’s heart was pounding and he could only assume that Rose’s was as well.

  “Will—”

  He dragged her against his body. As it had before she fit perfectly to him, her small frame filling up all his empty spaces.

  He pressed his lips against hers. She tasted like nothing he’d ever tasted before. “Warm” and “comforting” were the only words that he could think of.

  She made a surprised sound but soon she was leaning into him, fitting her body against his, her arms snaking around his waist to hang on tight as she kissed him back.

  It was an innocent kiss at first, just their lips locked together, but Will, desperately wanting more, pressed his tongue against the seam of her lips until she opened up against the pressure.

  Her eyes flew open to stare at him in surprise when his tongue swept through her mouth. She’d obviously never been kissed this way before and a surge of pride raced through him to know he’d been her first real kiss.

  But alas, it couldn’t last nearly as long as he would have liked. The plotting lords were still uncomfortably close, and they were standing in the cold where anyone could come upon them.

  He pulled away just as abruptly as he had yanked her against him and she gasped, her lips glistening and bright pink. His blood ran through him hot and heavy and he wanted nothing more than to push her against the palace wall and kiss her again but he held his ground and gathered his wits about him.

  She lifted a hand to touch her lips while still looking at him in wonder and confusion. His only regret was that he couldn’t kiss her longer.

  “We need to leave,” he said.

  She didn’t move.

  “Rose. We need to go.”

  He took her hand from her mouth and led her away from the door, keeping close to the palace wall. There were guards about but he hadn’t seen any in this area yet and hoped to God that tonight wasn’t the night that he did. He could always tell them that he and Rose were out for a bit of fun, but that could easily ruin Rose’s reputation and he didn’t want to do that.

  “Can you find your way back?” he asked.

  She pulled up short. “So that’s it?” she asked. “We’re not going to talk about what we just heard back there? My God, Will, they’re plotting to—”

  “Quiet,” he said harshly as he glanced around. The moon shone bright on the snow, dousing everything in a bright blue. “You must not speak of it. Not to anyone. Do you understand me?”

  “Of course I won’t say anything, but we cannot even speak of it to each other?”

  He didn’t want to talk to Rose about any of this. If he had it in his power he would undo everything that she had heard. But it was too late for that and he needed to figure out what he was going to do with her now that she knew he knew the same information. And damn it, he was beyond frustrated that he still did not know more details, like when and where the murder would take place.

  “Not now. I have an appointment with the king in a few minutes.”

  She looked doubtful. “This late at night?”

  “He’s lonely. The queen won’t allow him to do anything or go anywhere in the castle. The courtiers shun him. He has few friends.”

  Her lips twisted. “From what it sounded like in the cellar I’m not surprised. So why are you still his friend?”

  This was not a conversation he wanted to have now. He needed to think about his
next steps, how much to safely tell her.

  “Tomorrow evening, after supper, everyone will be in the queen’s salon. Meet me at the stables. We’ll talk then.”

  “I must wait all day? This is important, Will. This is…” She looked around, suddenly aware that they could be overheard. “This is important.”

  “I know. Give me until then.”

  “Very well. But if you don’t show up I will go in search of you.”

  “I understand. Can you find your way back?”

  She looked down the wall of the palace. “You are certain the king isn’t around?”

  “If you stay in the common areas where most people gather, you should be safe. Go straight to your chambers. I will see you tomorrow after supper.”

  She went up on her toes and kissed him on the lips. It was a swift buff of lips sliding against each other, and then she was gone, hurrying away, staying to the shadows so that he could barely see her until a wedge of light appeared where she opened another side door and slid through it.

  Will waited a long while—far too long—staring at the place where Rose disappeared. Something fundamental changed inside of him with that kiss and he wasn’t exactly sure he was happy about it.

  Chapter 12

  “Did you hear?”

  Will was sitting in Darnley’s chambers, finally warming up from his time in the cellar and outside with Rose. He was far into his thoughts, drinking steadily with Darnley. Or rather, Darnley was drinking steadily and Will was sipping his mulled wine, letting the warmth roll through him while his jumbled thoughts played havoc with his emotions.

  He kept returning to that kiss. He’d kissed other women before, but he’d never had a romantic involvement with another woman. In his line of work he couldn’t afford to get emotionally attached. There had never been a woman that he lost because of a mission or who had betrayed him after he’d given his heart to her. There simply had not been a woman he’d allowed close to him. He’d tupped a few—more than a few to be honest—and he’d kissed more than that. Hell, he’d kissed women just to get information out of them. If that wasn’t coldhearted he didn’t know what was.