"We will show you to your chambers."
He offered his arm and the queen placed her hand upon it, moving by his side.
Madeline linked her arm through Brenna's. Together they climbed the stairs to the guest chambers. The others followed, while Richard stayed behind, staring after them.
An entire wing of the house on the second and third floors had been prepared for the guests. The finest rugs had been aired and positioned on the floor of the sitting chamber. Several chaises, covered in softest velvet, flanked the fireplace. A fire crackled on the grate.
Masses of flowers stood in vases on the mantel as well as on several tables around the room. Their fragrance perfumed the air. "Man cher."
Madeline turned a smiling face toward Morgan.
"Your home is so beautiful. And your hospitality overwhelms me."
"Greystone Abbey is lovely," the queen murmured.
"But never have I seen the rooms so fresh, or so tastefully arranged."
"Brenna is the one who drove the servants unmercifully until Greystone Abbey was suitable for royalty."
Brenna flushed with pleasure. To cover her embarrassment she said, "Perhaps you would like to see your sleeping chambers, Majesty."
A fire crackled invitingly in the sleeping chambers on either side of the sitting chamber. The massive beds were swathed in delicate linen draperies that offered warmth as well as privacy. Thick, ornate rugs covered every inch of floor. Tall vases of roses stood on either side of the fireplace. The air was sweet with their perfume.
"There is ample room for all of your servants," Brenna said, indicating several doors that led to smaller servants' chambers.
The queen gazed around, then fixed Brenna with a look.
"I am impressed."
Brenna flushed with pleasure. It would take much to impress a queen who was accustomed to only the best.
Lord Windham remarked dryly, "Perhaps we should all petition you, Majesty, for a prisoner such as this one. My home could use the lady's touch, as well."
Feeling all the attention focused on her, Brenna's cheeks burned. It was Morgan who came to her rescue.
"When you have refreshed yourselves," he said, "we will await you in the great room below."
As he and Brenna walked down the hall he noted the flush on her cheeks.
His tone was tender.
"Your work was not in vain, my lady.
Everyone was overwhelmed by your care. "
He offered his arm as they descended the stairs. When she placed her hand on his sleeve, he steeled himself for the jolt that always came at her simplest touch.
"I am glad, for Madeline's sake. I wanted her first visit to be perfect."
He savored the breathless quality of her voice. It was rare when they could speak to each other without rancor.
"Did you always take such pains with your guests in your home in Scotland?"
Home. She felt the pain, swift, sharp. Would it always be so?
"Aye.
There were so many visitors. Our doors were open to all. I remember our home always filled with the sound of voices raised in laughter. "
He opened the door to the great room and felt the press of her body as she moved past him. The fragrance of wildflowers still clung to her hair and clothes.
"I would like you to treat Greystone Abbey as your own home, my lady.
For the next few days I pray that you can relax with Madeline and the others and enjoy this happy time."
"Shall I think of it as a reprieve, my lord?" She turned and he saw the way her eyes suddenly darkened, as she remembered who and what she was.
"Before the queen sentences me to a lifetime of slavery?"
"Damn you, woman." Without thinking he caught her roughly by the arm.
The moment he touched her, he realized his mistake. The heat that flowed between them was a shocking reminder that it was impossible to touch her and feel nothing.
His voice lowered to a hiss of anger.
"Must everything with you be a contest of wills?" His grip tightened.
"Can you not forget for a little while that you are Scots and I am English? Can we not simply be two people who enjoy the company of good friends?"
At her gasp of pain he realized that he was hurting her. Immediately his touch gentled, and he unwittingly ran his thumbs in circles over the bruised flesh of her upper arms. ] She struggled to ignore the little fist that tightened deep inside her. Why did this man's touch have the power to affect I her so? Why, even now, in the full heat of anger, did she react so violently to the nearness of him?
"Would you have me forget that I am your prisoner, my lord?" I Prisoner. Aye. One of them was a prisoner. But he was no longer certain which one. He stared down into her eyes and saw himself reflected there. The urge to kiss her was so strong he had to call on all of his willpower to resist.
"I will summon Mistress Leems. Our guests will need sustenance." As he turned away he was aware that his hand was none too steady. And the sweat on his brow had nothing to do with the heat of the fire. It was was caused by the damnably cool woman beside him.
Chapter Fifteen
Q^rys^Q
JVlistress Leems fluttered around the great room, seeing to the placement of the silver tea service and trays of cakes and scones and clotted cream, as well as little pots of fruit conserve.
A fire crackled invitingly in the fireplace. Though it was still early afternoon, candles burned in sconces along the walls, adding a soft glow to the room.
When they had removed the dust of their journey, the guests began descending the staircase in clusters of twos and threes. Soon the tinkle of fine crystal and the hum of conversation filled the great room.
All conversation ceased when the queen entered. Elizabeth was resplendent in a gown of scarlet satin shot with gold thread. Gold and silver had been worked into scrolls on the sleeves and bodice. A cap of gold and silver filigree set with precious stones nestled in her red hair. She wore a necklace made of dozens of rubies surrounded by diamonds, and matching diamond and ruby earrings.
Everyone in the room curtsied. A servant positioned an elegant, ermine-covered chair in front of the fireplace, beside Richard's. The queen sank down gratefully. Mistress Leems handed Lord Quigley a cup of tea and a plate of freshly baked scones. After he had tasted, he handed them to a servant,
who offered them to the queen. With one taste, she arched an eyebrow in surprise.