for her? Had she brought forth life only to have it taken away before it was truly hers? Of course, Edward might be victorious. He had never before known defeat. But for Mairi, the risk was too great. If he died in battle, her life and the life of her child would be forfeit. For three tormented hours, she wept and prayed and argued with herself. When, at last, she came to her decision, there was no more room for tears.
Tenderly, she picked up the bairn and cradled her against her heart. “You will have a good life, m’eudail,” she murmured, burying her face in the baby’s neck and inhaling the sweet milky smell of her. Slowly, so as not to wake her, Mairi lay the child across her lap and unwrapped the swaddling blanket. She was so small, so delicate. Lovingly, she caressed the tiny arms, the rounded belly, the dimpled knees. She worked her finger into the center of the tightly clenched fist. The child’s grip was strong. Mairi smiled. “You are a bonny lass, my love. Someday, perhaps when you are grown, our paths will cross again.”
There was a knock on the door. “Enter,” she called out.
Anne brought a tray of food. Mairi waved it away. “Bring me paper and ink,” she ordered. “I wish to send two messages, one to the king and the other to the queen.”
***
He found her on the knoll, watching the sunset, a slight, solitary figure outlined against the brilliant sky.
“I’m so sorry, lass.” Edward’s eyes were dark with misery. “I came as soon as I heard.” His large hands reached out to clasp her shoulders. “Sometimes it happens. There will be other bairns.”
“No, there will not.” Mairi’s voice was low and filled with something he had never heard before. “I am going home, Edward, to Traquair House. I can no longer live like this.”
“I’ve no objection to your visiting Traquair,” said Edward reasonably. “When this business with Wallace is over, I’ll join you.”
“It won’t be a visit. I wish to go home…permanently.”
Edward frowned. “Mairi,” he began and stopped. She was upset over the child. He would not cause her further pain. “You may go wherever you wish, my love,” he said gently. “But I ask you to wait until Wallace has been defeated. ’Tis too dangerous for a woman.”
She turned to face him, and he was shocked at the anger in her eyes. “I am a Scot, Edward. Have you forgotten that? How should I behave when you speak of skewering the hero of my country?”
“You know nothing of it. William Wallace is a traitor.”
“No, Your Grace. Wallace is a patriot. John Balliol was the traitor until he was convinced otherwise. You’ll not hold Wallace in your dungeon. He’ll die before he submits and half the clans in Scotland will die with him.”
Edward’s eyes were as cold and hard as splintered glass. “You are overset. I’ll not listen to this.” He turned to leave her.
Her words stopped him. “I leave on the morrow, Edward. Whatever was between us is over. David Murray rides with Wallace as do the Maxwells of Shiels and Traquair. My heart is with them.”
Slowly, he turned around and came toward her, his face a carved bronze mask beneath the winter-gold hair. One hand reached behind her neck, the blunt fingers tangling in her hair. The other closed over her throat, holding her immobile. He spoke through set teeth. “You are mine, Mairi of Shiels. No man will claim you but me.” His mouth was close to her own. “Tell me you no longer love me.”
She remained silent.
He laughed triumphantly. “You cannot lie, my love. There is no one else for you.”
“How fortunate that I do not demand the same from you, my lord.”
“Explain yourself,” he demanded.
Tears of shame prevented Mairi from answering.
All at once Edward understood. “I cannot ignore her completely, Mairi,” he said gently. “She is my wife. The insult would be too great.”
“I, too, wish to be a wife.”
Edward dropped his hands, shaken at the anguish in her plea. This was a Mairi he had never seen before. His Mairi was strong and proud, without the needs of ordinary women. “You ask for something I cannot give. God knows I would do it differently if I could begin again. Please believe that.”
Mairi lifted her head and looked directly at him. “I do believe you, Edward. But you must also believe me. At first light, I leave for Traquair. David Murray wishes to marry me. I’ve