that persistent grasp than I could have sprouted wings and flown up the stairs and out into the light.
Visions swam before my eyes. Mairi’s body crushed and bloodless, David Murray’s face twisted with pain and hate. “No!” I screamed. “Go away. I don’t want you now.” Sobbing, I tore at the terrible weight holding me motionless in the dark corridor. There was nothing to feel, nothing to fight.
Bursts of color flashed through my mind. My head exploded with intensity. I twisted and turned and fought, but there was nothing to hold on to, nothing but the terrible weight pressing down on me. Shock and the accompanying rush of adrenalin were too much for me. I felt the familiar lightness that all diabetics instantly recognize. I craved insulin, and there was none to be had. Sagging against the wall, I slipped into merciful unconsciousness.
Twenty-Eight
THE TOWER OF LONDON
1293
Mairi looked down at the newborn infant suckling at her breast. The child was the image of Edward. Not an ounce of Maxwell blood was evident in her golden skin and piercing blue eyes. Even her hair, wisps of silvery fuzz, reminded Mairi of a Viking baby.
Edward had visited her the day before. He was delighted with his infant daughter. Eleanor had given him sons enough for the succession. This wee bairn was his to indulge. He had already bestowed a duchy upon her.
The child had eaten her fill. Her eyes were closed. Mairi shifted her to one shoulder and rubbed the delicate back. Within seconds a tiny belch exploded against her ear. A fierce surge of protectiveness flooded through her. This was her daughter, her firstborn.
The door opened, and her servant stepped inside. “There is someone to see you, m’lady,” she said tentatively.
Mairi frowned. Anne was more friend than servant. It wasn’t like her to be so nervous. “Who is it?” she asked.
Anne looked down at her feet and shook her head. “I dare not say.”
“Very well.” Mairi’s eyes were the gray of tempered steel. “I shall refuse to see him.”
“Oh no, m’lady,” Anne gasped. “Please do not ask me to take back such a message.”
Mairi laid the sleeping baby beside her on the bed and tucked the blanket around her. The task took over a minute. Finally, she folded her hands across her flattened stomach and looked across the room at the cowering woman. “Close the door,” she said quietly.
Anne obeyed.
“Are you afraid of me, Anne?” Mairi asked gently.
Anne flushed, refusing to meet her mistress’s eyes. “No.”
“Are you afraid of my visitor?”
“Aye,” the woman admitted.
“Whom do you serve?”
“You, m’lady.”
Mairi inspected the fringe on her bedcover. “You are not serving me now. Perhaps I have been too lenient with you.”
Anne lifted miserable eyes to Mairi’s face. “Please do not turn me off, m’lady. I would serve you until I die, but this time I cannot. A higher authority commands me. I dare not disobey.”
Mairi was no longer listening. There were only two people in all of England with authority over Mairi of Shiels. “Thank you, Anne,” she said quietly. “You may tell the queen to come in.”
With a frightened moan, Anne curtseyed and disappeared behind the door.
Careful not to disturb the child, Mairi straightened her pillows. She did not want to face Edward’s wife lying flat on her back.
Eleanor did not keep her waiting. Before Mairi could begin to wonder at the reason for this unprecedented visit, the queen had already entered the room and closed the door behind her.
The two women took each other’s measure. They had never before engaged in conversation. Mairi waited for Eleanor to speak. “I come from the king’s estate in Nottingham to see the child,” she said at last.
Mairi gasped. “Why?”
“My own daughter did not live past a se’enight.”
Mairi’s heart ached for her. “I’m truly sorry, Your Grace.”
The queen glanced at her curiously. “I believe you mean that.” She walked over to the bed and looked down at Mairi’s daughter. A look of relief crossed her face. “It is just as I thought. She is all Edward.”
Mairi’s arm curled protectively around her child. “What do you want of me, Your Grace?”
Eleanor frowned. “Are your countrymen always so blunt, Mairi of Shiels, or is it only you who is lacking in manners?”
“My manners are my concern,” retorted Mairi. “Tell me the reason for your visit.”
The queen’s hands clenched into fists, but her tone remained unchanged. “I had hoped to strike a bargain with you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Be careful, Mairi. I can be a formidable enemy when I choose.”
Mairi nodded.