Henry did? Signing execution orders for innocent men and women? Every man has his limit and the rack was designed to take them to it quickly. I could send anyone of ye to its backbreaking grasp and I believe ye would confess in spite of the fact that none of ye are suspected of the crime.”
“I would have justice, Your Majesty.”
“Hear! Hear!”
Hands appeared on the tabletop once again. That was another sign of the times. None of Henry’s councilors would have dared slap the top of the table in the face of the king’s displeasure.
A pounding began on the doors, snapping the last of his patience.
“Who dares interrupt?” James roared his question, finally having an outlet for his temper.
The last person he expected to see appeared when the doors opened. The queen lowered herself in deference to his tone.
“Forgive me, my lord husband.”
She was breathless and flushed, her eyes flickering from the floor to his face and back again as she waited for him to receive her. Anne was a most suitable queen in that way, always preserving the image that she considered him her master.
“Rise, Anne. What brings ye here?”
“The Marquis of Wyse has arrived.” She stood up, clearly agitated. Her face was flushed and her normally perfectly folded hands were plucking at her pearls.
“Demetrius? What dragged him out of his tower?”
Anne lifted one hand and made the sign of the cross over herself.
“He has word of Raelin McKorey.”
James stood so quickly his guards had to dive out of his path. “Fetch McQuade and Ronchford. I want to see their faces when we hear what fate has befallen that girl.”
“No, I don’t want time to dress.” Keir was in a foul temper. He scowled at the royal guard and the way they turned up their noses at his clothing.
“I’m a Scotsman, nae an ambassador. I’ll wear me kilt.”
Helena sighed. She didn’t argue, but carried her husband’s doublet to him. He jerked his attention off the royal guard who waited to stare at what she held. Frustration flickered in his eyes.
“Well, I suppose I shouldnae show up in just me shirt.”
He stuck one arm into a sleeve and then the other. Helping him into it, Helena moved in front of him to begin working the buttons.
“Leave us.”
The guards didn’t need any more urging; they withdrew, leaving the chamber. Keir cupped her chin, his fingers wrapping around her jaw easily. She clamped down on her emotions before raising her eyelashes to allow him to lock stares with her.
“I suppose every honeymoon must end.”
He smiled at her words. “Och now, dinnae be so quick, lass. I think we can still collect a fair number of bottles of honey mead from our friends.”
“I don’t much care for it.”
He stroked the side of her face. “That leaves more for me.”
“I will enjoy watching you drink it.”
She had to rise onto her toes to finish the last few buttons. Her fingers lingered on his warm skin before carefully completing her task. Her emotions surged, too much of a tangled mess to understand. Fear and relief that the moment was finally at hand battled against her poise.
“I do believe I shall miss having you completely to myself, husband.”
“I’ll have to do me best to see that ye dinnae go lonely in spite of all the duties life will expect of us once we make it home.”
Helena broke the contact between their eyes, turning to pick up her gloves. Hope—it was a magical thing. She heard it edging her husband’s voice and the deep tone beckoned to her. His arms came around her, enclosing her in an embrace that was too tender to remain calm in. A soft whimper escaped her lips.
“Sweet lass. Never wonder if I regretted coming to London. I don’t. I found ye here and ye taught me what love is. That is worth every struggle that has landed in me path. I swear it.”
He pressed a soft kiss against her temple, his arms tightening one final time before opening.
“But let us get on to the palace and see what Jamie has to say.”
There was no hint of wavering in his voice. It was eager, and when she turned to look at him, she saw the man who had boldly appeared in her path in spite of being told to leave her alone.
Confidence was exactly what Keir was full of.
“I am ready, husband.”
Whatever came, she was ready. He was correct—this was no life, but it had been a time that she would always treasure,