"Stifle the sermon."

"An irresistible impulse grabbed me this morning," Avril said. "I sneaked out of the house and dashed across the road to Holyrood Park. I cast the magic circle and worshipped the Goddess. It was then I noticed the star ruby had darkened into pigeon's blood red. Nearby I saw Darnley and a blond boy. They were lovers."

Her husband's expression registered shock. "You saw this?"

"Darnley tried to blackmail me tonight," Avril added. "He asked if I practised witchcraft. We must warn Mary so she won't marry him."

"What matters to me is your safety," Magnus said. "You've made an enemy in Darnley. Your enemies are my enemies and your brother's."

"I insulated myself from his venom by claiming pregnancy," Avril said, "and Moray defended me because he dislikes Darnley."

"Argyll offers the best refuge," her husband said. "We'll need to leave Edinburgh."

"I do not fear Darnley," she argued. "Our queen needs us,"

"Kings and queens come and go," Magnus said, standing, "but the clans must survive. I'll need to return to court and ask the queen's permission to leave for Argyll."

"I want to bid Mary a personal farewell before we leave."

Magnus stared at her for a long moment. "I'll see what I can do."

"How long will you be gone?"

"I do not answer to you." Magnus unlocked the door and quit the chamber. "I will return when I return."

Avril waited hours. She paced the chamber, peered out the window, and then sat in the chair. Again and again and again.

Still, Magnus did not return. Where was he? Was he dancing with Fiona Seton? Or worse? What would she do if he left her in Argyll and returned to Edinburgh?

The door opened, drawing her attention. His expression weary, Magnus crossed the chamber to sit in the chair beside hers. "Queen Mary will receive you late morning."

"Thank you, husband."

Magnus gave her a tired smile. "I never imagined a wife could create this much trouble, but I agree with your assessment of Darnley and Moray." He took her hand in his. "Mary likes George, and your brother will do whatever he can without endangering the Campbells and Gordons."

Avril felt a weight lifted from her heart. "Then you aren't dumping me in Argyll or divorcing me?"

Magnus gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Why would a man divorce the woman he loves?"

Love? Avril couldn't credit what she'd heard, and her expression mirrored confusion.

Without another word, Magnus rose from the chair and opened his cabinet. After rummaging through his belongings, he returned with three miniature portraits.

Magnus handed her the first miniature, a portrait of her at age eight. The second miniature showed her at age twelve, and the third at sixteen years.

"I asked your father to send me your portraits as you aged." Magnus offered her his hand as if requesting a dance. "Can we go to bed now?"

Avril looked from his hand to his eyes. She placed her smaller hand in his and rose from the chair. Entwining her arms around his neck, she pressed her body to his and rested her head against his chest.

Magnus and Avril stood wrapped in embrace for a long, long time.

At noon the next day, Magnus guided Avril through Holyrood Palace's winding corridors and up narrow staircases. Mary had invited Avril to visit the royal apartment instead of the reception hall.

"You will go inside alone," Magnus said, tapping on the sitting room door. "Mary and I said our good-byes last night."

"How do I look?" Avril asked him.

Magnus inspected her from the top of her fiery mane down her body clad in a blue riding outfit to her boots. "Your beauty could entice John Knox to sin."

"You are an incorrigible flatterer."

One of the four Marys opened the door. She smiled at Avril and beckoned her into the room. Queen Mary was alone except for her four ladies-in-waiting.

"I do apologise if I've done or said anything to upset you," Avril said, curtseying to the queen. "I will think of you often and always remain your devoted subject."

Queen Mary smiled at that. "You will return to court after the babe is born."

"I fear we will never meet again in this lifetime." With tears welling in her eyes, Avril knelt in front of the queen. She removed the ruby ring from her finger and offered it to the queen. "Please accept this token of my loyalty."

Unexpectedly, Queen Mary placed her palm against Avril's cheek. Then the queen slipped the ring on to the third finger of her right hand.

"Danger lurks when the stone darkens," Avril reminded her. She lowered her voice to an urgent whisper. "No matter what happens in Scotland, do not set foot in England unless Elizabeth Tudor is dead."

Queen Mary seemed bewildered by the warning. "I will remember your words."

What else could she have expected from the queen? Mary Stuart had been loved, protected and pampered deservedly so since the hour of her birth. Perhaps she would never understand the evil ambitions and hatreds simmering below the surface of the court and Scotland.

On impulse, Avril kissed the queen's hand and stood. Then she backed her way to the door and left the royal sitting room.

Waiting in the hallway, Magnus wiped the tears rolling down her cheeks. Avril gave him a sad smile. Even her husband would never believe the rising storm headed for Scotland.

Knowing what others did not would forever prove a curse.

Avril kissed her husband's cheek and murmured, "When Mary Stuart goes, we will never see such a bonny queen again, and Scotland will be the poorer for it."

Inverary Castle, 1568.

Avril rested in a chair in front of the hearth in the great hall. Gordon, her one-year-old son, sat on her lap and gave her a two-toothed smile.

"Some day I will teach you to golf with King James," Avril told him. "You must learn to lose without seeming to do so. Understand?"

Gordon pointed a chubby finger at the centre of her face. "Nose."

"Very good, my son." Avril pointed at his face. "What's that, Gordy?"

"Nose."

"And what is this?" She pointed to his mouth.

"Kiss, kiss, kiss." Gordon pressed his drooling mouth on hers.

Avril laughed. Gordon laughed when she did.

"Ah, there are my two favourite people in the world." Looking travel weary, Magnus stood in the doorway.

"Da."

Avril rose from the chair and set her son down on his feet. "Stay there. Gordy has a surprise for you." She whispered to her son, "Walk to Da."

Holding his arms out for balance, Gordon tottered towards his father. Behind him hovered his mother, ready to catch his fall.

Magnus grabbed his son and lifted him high, making the boy laugh. Then he planted a kiss on Avril's mouth. "I missed you."

They sat together in front of the hearth, the baby resting his head against his father's shoulder. Magnus reached inside his leather jerkin and passed her a letter.

Avril looked at the letter from Queen Mary, currently imprisoned in England. She broke the seal, asking, "Why didn't you read it?"

"The queen addressed the letter to you, not me."

"Mary wishes us well and sends best wishes to our son," Avril told him, tears welling in her eyes. "Mary yearns to see her own son and should have listened to my warning. She thinks of me often and would love to play another round of golf. Only this time-"

Raw emotion caught in her throat, making swallowing difficult. "Only this time she would prefer I do not purposely lose. Oh, Magnus, I have so much and the queen so little."

Her son reached to touch her cheek. "Wet, Mama."

Avril kissed her son's fingers. "Is there any possible way to free Mary?"

Magnus shook his head. "I doubt it."

"I curse Elizabeth Tudor," Avril said, "and I curse the Earl of Moray.

"Moray does not wear the crown," Magnus reminded her.

"Moray rules Scotland for his nephew. Where lies the difference?" Avril fell silent for a long moment. "How much does an assassin cost?"

"What?" Her husband had paled by several shades.

"You heard me," Avril said. "The Hamiltons have long been loyal to Mary and share a connection to France. Do you think?"

"I think," Magnus interrupted, "I will not discuss murder in my hall." He lifted his son into the air and kissed his belly, making the boy laugh. "Always obey your mother, Gordy, because she is a bloodthirsty wench."

"Seeking justice is not bloodthirsty."

"You are hitting justice over the head, darling, not seeking it."

"Admit it," Avril said with a smile. "You love me the way I am."

"I do love your big heart" Magnus dropped his gaze to her body "as well as several interesting body parts."

Magnus shifted his son in his arms. Then he leaned close to her, his mouth capturing hers.

"Kiss," Gordon chirped. "Kiss, kiss, kiss."

Wolfish in Sheep's Clothing.

Marta Acosta.

As Katherine Samuelson trudged up Princes Street, she cursed her best friend, Emma MacNeil, and she cursed the sleet that slanted down, making every step a chore. Kathy tucked her chin to hold the handle of her umbrella, and balanced bags on each shoulder while dragging a wheeled suitcase behind her. Edinburgh was supposed to be a high point of this vacation. "It will be a life-changing experience," Emma had said. "I can see it perfectly."

"Not one of your visions," Kathy had answered, trying to toss back her hair but her dark reddish curls only bounced.

"I am a seer, you know that." Emma's own head toss had been much more successful, since her sandy blond hair was a long straight fall. "I have the famous MacNeil sight, and I see a man ..."

"Emma, the way you look, I'm surprised you don't see a whole army of men."

"A man in a kilt."

At that point, Kathy had laughed so hard that Emma had sulked until she apologised. They'd met when Kathy had answered an ad for a roommate, but since then Emma had gone through a dozen boyfriends and was now engaged.

Most of Emma's predictions were easy to ignore. Occasionally, however, Emma was unnervingly right, like the time that she'd begged Kathy not to go to a Christmas party that ended in tragedy when the holiday decorations caught fire. So Kathy considered this outlandish vision. Besides, she wanted to go on a trip with her friend. She scrimped and saved for over a year. She sublet the space in her tiny knitting shop Stitch in Time to a quilter to hold classes.

When Emma cancelled at the last minute, Kathy was furious. Emma had said, "I'm sorry, but everything's gone all on the wonk with Tommy and if I leave I'm afraid it will be over."

"We'll be over if you don't come."

"You don't mean that. You want me to be happy."

"You'll be happy when you find your man in a kilt."

"I didn't see Tommy's horrible knobby knees in my vision. Then I had the vision again and this time you were there in a sapphire blue coat. Don't be mad, Kitty Kat."

"Don't call me that. In fact, don't call me at all."

What was supposed to be a grand adventure had turned into a lonely journey getting lost and fending off predatory men who were attracted to the solitary woman with gleaming mahogany curls. Kathy had downgraded all her hotel reservations to save money because she lived by her parents' credo: waste not, want not. Now, she was exhausted, cold, and lost again as she approached a lavish hotel she had already passed twice. At least she had a warm coat.

The ultramarine lambswool coat had been her one extravagance. When she'd seen it in the window of a boutique on the Avenue de l'Opera, she'd stopped to stare. The A-line style was so classic that the coat would always be chic. Emma had said that she'd seen a sapphire blue coat in her vision. It was a crazy thing to do, but Kathy bought it.

She had just paused to adjust her bags, when a sleek black Citroen sedan pulled up to the curb in front of the hotel ahead.

A doorman with an enormous umbrella escorted a couple out of the hotel as a parking valet jumped out of the car and opened the passenger door for a beautiful blonde woman. Then the parking valet rushed to hold the other door for a tall dark-haired man in a black trench coat.

When the tall man glanced at the valet, Kathy saw that he had high cheekbones, a long strong nose, dark eyes and a firm jaw. He was the sort of man who drove expensive new cars, dated beautiful blondes, and stayed in luxury hotels.