Between a Highlander and a Hard Place Page 2

  Athena realized why he scurried so when Galwell thumped the top of the ceiling with his fist before the poor servant had even finished closing the door. The driver responded instantly, snapping the reins and letting the horses begin pulling them down the street.

  She shouldn’t dwell on the matter.

  Galwell was the son of a baron. He paid his servants well because he needed to keep his attention for important matters.

  Still…

  Hush, she reprimanded herself. Everyone had bad habits. As Galwell’s wife, she would endeavor to make certain his staff knew how appreciated they were.

  Galwell’s family had a townhome along the Thames. It was accessible by barge from the palace. However, soon the Queen would likely take to the country, leaving the city behind as the warm summer months made the stench of London grow. It was known as progress: a huge caravan of nobles and their households that took days to pass on the road as they ventured to country estates where the Queen would be entertained by her nobles and then move on, with her court following to another estate. It was rumored that one visit from the royal Tudor queen could destroy entire herds of stock animals as lavish feasting went on for days.

  Athena felt jittery as her excitement grew. She hadn’t dared to voice how very much she hoped Galwell would want to celebrate their union before spring fully arrived.

  She might go with him on progress if he did.

  She longed for the moment they might do more than court.

  “Here we are, my dear,” Galwell said as the carriage stopped. “Welcome to my home.” He alighted and turned to offer her his gloved hand. “The city one, of course. We shall enjoy the country estate in summer when the grass is high and the berries in bloom.” He pulled her close. “And I shall enjoy tumbling you on the riverbanks.”

  Her cheeks warmed as she pulled away. “When shall we take our vows?”

  He waved his hand in the air and preceded her into the house. His servants were quick to greet him, rushing around as they took his cape and hat, cleaned his boots, and offered them both refreshment.

  French wine.

  It was strong. Athena found it warming her stomach and making her cheeks flush after only a few sips.

  “Drink up, my sweet,” Galwell encouraged her as he finished off his goblet. “We have merriment to be about this night.”

  Truly, he must have reached agreement with her uncle, for a feast was laid out. In the air, the scent of expensive spices floated, teasing her with their exotic smells.

  Cinnamon.

  Nutmeg.

  Cloves.

  “Oranges?” she exclaimed as she saw the table up close. “So early in the season?”

  “The first ships have arrived from Spain.” Galwell sat down and extended his open hand toward a chair across from him. “Her Majesty’s lord chancellor is often generous and allows others to peruse the wares after she has had first pick.”

  Athena lifted an orange up to her nose, inhaling deeply. The last piece of fresh fruit she’d held was back in autumn, when the apples had been harvested. She wished she had worn a finer dress, but she had always attended service in basic wool.

  The meal began with washing of hands. One servant brought in a bowl and held it beneath Galwell’s hands while another servant poured water from a pitcher over them. Then a length of linen was offered so he might dry his hands. They came to her next and then disappeared, only to return with salt and stale bread. They sprinkled salt on the plates and used the bread to clean it away to remove any possible contamination. Rumor had it Queen Elizabeth always watched her plate being salted before she ate off it because she was so afraid of being poisoned, as she was still unmarried and James Stuart was now fourteen.

  Musicians began to play somewhere out of sight. Their notes blended perfectly with the presentation of the supper. The oranges were not the only lavish fare on the table. There was meat, during the season of Lent when a special license was needed to allow them to enjoy it, and a tart made with sugar from the Caribbean islands.

  Galwell was every bit the nobleman. He sat at the table, expertly commanding his staff. Athena finally sat back, unable to eat another morsel.

  “Perhaps your stays need loosening, my sweet?”

  It was a wicked thing to jest about and yet, because they were in negotiations to wed, not too scarlet a topic. Athena allowed herself to smile suggestively at him. “Soon, my lord.”

  His eyes flashed with something she’d only glimpsed hints of before. Now, she was treated to a full look at the desire he aimed at her. “Dare I hope this splendid feast was meant as a celebration of the announcement that our union will soon be brought to bear?” she asked.

  He chuckled and finished off his goblet of expensive French wine as though it was no more than water. “Indeed, my dear.”

  Galwell was suddenly on his feet, working open the buttons of his doublet before shrugging off the garment and tossing it over the back of his chair.

  Athena was frozen in place, staring at his shirt while she frantically tried to think of a reasonable explanation for his lack of propriety. Nothing came to mind though, leaving her facing a reality that was harsh with unacceptable familiarity.

  “I believe the time has come for me to depart.” She rose, pushing her own chair back because the servants seemed to have vanished.

  Another ripple of unease went through her.

  “Indeed it has,” Galwell announced as he grabbed a handful of her skirt. He used it to tug her into his embrace. The French wine that had been so very delectable was now abhorrent on his breath. “Let us retire to the bedchamber.”

  “Galwell,” she scolded him. “Your wits are pickled in too much wine. We are not yet wed.”

  “We shall never be wed,” he muttered. “My father is arranging a better match for me.”

  Athena stood frozen in his embrace as he boldly confessed his thinking.

  “But you, my sweet.” He cupped her bottom through her skirts as he backed her into the table. “You I shall enjoy as a mistress, and you will be content with the arrangement, for no one will believe I have not had you tonight.”

  “Galwell! For shame… I would never have come away with you if I’d thought you intent on playing the scoundrel.”

  He snickered at her reprimand, pulling one of her thighs up so he could press between them. “Enough games, Athena! Your mother was a tart. She lured your father away from his family, and now I will enjoy the same hot-bloodedness you inherited from her. It is the best arrangement you can expect.”

  “You claimed you desired marriage from me!” Her thoughts were spinning out of control. He looked like the man she’d trusted with her heart, but there was a cruel twist to his lips and a bright glow of anticipation in his eyes she did not recognize. “You fiend!”

  Athena reached behind her and grabbed the first thing she might. It was a plate, and she swung it at his head. Galwell recoiled, releasing her as he jumped back and indulged in a long laugh at her expense.

  “That’s the spirit!” he encouraged her. “Enough with the virginal blushes and so forth. I crave a spirited ride, and I’ve gone to a great deal of effort to tempt you away from your chaperones.”

  “Is this some wager then?” she demanded as she made her way around the table. “Am I a prize merely for the sake of your pride?”

  Galwell sent her another one of those smiles she’d never seen before. This one was sly and tore another chunk from her heart with its callousness.

  She was naught but a conquest to him.

  The truth sent a bitter taste into her mouth as the fine meal tried to erupt from her stomach.

  “You truly thought to marry so well?” he scoffed at her. “Foolish. Your mother wasn’t blue-blooded. My heirs must be pure noble.”

  It wasn’t the first time she’d heard such a thing. More than one well-meaning matron ha
d taken the time to warn her of her circumstances.

  But I trusted him.

  Tears stung her eyes.

  “I see you understand,” he remarked. “Now, let us get to the matter of the arrangement between us.”

  “There will be no arrangement,” she hissed.

  He leveled a look at her, the same he gave his servants. She stiffened, forbidding herself to cry.

  He was not worthy of her tears.

  Or her heart.

  “Oh, you may be quite certain there will be an arrangement that pleases me, if you know what is good for you and your family.”

  There was a large measure of arrogance in his tone, his eyes narrowing as he let his gaze lower to her cleavage and stay there.

  “You shall please me,” he continued. “In every way I crave.”

  “I am no whore.”

  His lips curved up in response to her rejection. “You have no choice. Your reputation is quite ruined now that you have been here so long,” he remarked. “Your uncle will have raised the alarm, and I assure you, I have told my servants to speak freely as to where you have been tonight.

  “Your lessons will continue, but with a different goal in mind,” he continued. “You shall become an accomplished courtesan.” His eyes glittered with excitement. “I have made all the arrangements for your tutelage. And I shall keep you very well, Athena. Now, come and allow me to introduce you to your duties—”

  “Never,” she growled.

  He chuckled at her denial. “If you leave here without my blessing, I will have it said you were put out for thieving. Your uncle will be ruined.”

  It was so horrible an idea that the breath felt frozen in her chest while she struggled to force her mind to function.

  “Why are you doing such a foul thing?”

  Galwell raised an eyebrow. “Because it is the only way to have you. And I will ride you—”

  “There are dozens of women competing for your attention because of your blood—”

  “And yet none are as fair as you.” He smiled brightly at her, sickening her even more. “The moment I saw you I knew you were to be mine. I am very good at getting what I crave.”

  The oranges…

  The cinnamon…

  The cloves…

  The meat…

  It was all as repugnant as the thirty pieces of silver used to pay Judas for his betrayal of Christ.

  “Go abovestairs now and disrobe, or, I assure you, I will turn a deaf ear to your pleas when you return and beg for my attention because your uncle cannot put bread on the table.” He sent her a confident look. She had the feeling she was far from alone in seeing it; there was far too much confidence in his expression for her to think she was unique in encountering this side of his nature.

  Games.

  A nobleman’s pastime.

  Clearly Galwell expected her to accept her lot.

  “It takes a long time to starve to death,” he continued as she hesitated. “The children die first. You shall watch as your uncle’s daughter buries her family. A goldsmith out of favor with the court is a man with no means of income.”

  She felt as though a noose was tightening around her neck.

  He knew it too, rolling his lips in with enjoyment.

  “Abovestairs, if you please,” he remarked casually. “I have been waiting a long while to see your tits.”

  Many would call her foolish. But none would label her a coward. She pushed one of the candles over onto the table covering. Galwell gasped, barking out for his servants. Athena fled as they rushed into the room.

  * * *

  The difficulty with escaping was a person needed a place to go. Athena discovered the truth of her dilemma once she spied her uncle’s home. The moon was rising, but the night was still bitter. The sturdy wool dress she had lamented wasn’t pretty enough was now her dearest friend, for it kept her from shivering.

  At least as far as the chill in the night went.

  Inside her heart, there was ice forming.

  What a fool I was.

  And now, her lack of judgment was going to destroy everything. Galwell would do as he promised, she had little doubt. It felt as though his shell had cracked, allowing her to see what manner of foul creature he truly was. Well, she would not allow him to claim a victory over her. But how? Nobles controlled the world. His blue blood would be seen as more honest than her word. The sin of her parents would be taken as a stain against her account of what had happened.

  He could accuse her of thievery. Have her flogged or any other manner of horrible fates. Yet there was nowhere else to go.

  “Athena?” The door suddenly opened wide, the light from within illuminating her. “Thank Christ! I have been near to death with worry.” Henry was pulling her inside, even as she tried to fend him off. She didn’t really want to. No, he was her family, the man who called her his own when others had advised him to abandon her to an orphan’s lot.

  “Tell me true,” he demanded once the door was shut and the warm glow of the candles on the table surrounded her.

  Sweet Christ, she had not given enough thanks for how wonderful her home was. The world beyond the door was crueler than she might ever have imagined.

  “Athena.” There was a subtle reprimand in her uncle’s voice.

  Her memory rushed in with vivid recollection of Galwell’s threats. “I must leave.”

  Henry’s forehead furrowed.

  “I must,” she insisted. “Oh, Uncle, I have made a grave misjudgment of character.”

  Henry held up a hand. His fingertips were marked with scars from years of toil at his trade. She fought back nausea as she recalled how Galwell had promised to destroy it all in his quest to have her submission.

  “Tell me everything. We shall find a solution.”

  “I must leave,” she muttered, suddenly losing the strength to stand. She lowered herself onto one of the benches at the table. A place she had so often enjoyed the company of her family. Now it was empty, and she faced the knowledge that she could not be there at dawn when they came down to break their fast.

  “Galwell…came upon me as I was leaving service…in his carriage…”

  Henry had always been a man able to keep his thoughts hidden. Tonight she witnessed him fighting for control of his temper. It flashed in his eyes as he tapped the tabletop with his fist.

  “I shall have to leave…” And yet she had no idea where to go. “Galwell will ruin you.”

  “Aye, he’s a black-hearted man and no mistake.”

  Her uncle stood, pacing about the kitchen. He stopped as he came to some sort of decision. Athena stood, ready to face whatever he might say as her due for loving unwisely.

  “We need time,” Henry said. “I am not a man without friends, but it will require planning to ensure Galwell cannot destroy us. As a noble, his word will be listened to first and with more weight. I will have to make inquiries discreetly, for not many will go against Galwell’s blood. At least publicly. Behind closed doors is another matter entirely.”

  There was a commotion on the street, the sound of boots stamping against the cobblestones as men approached.

  “The priest hole,” Henry whispered.

  He didn’t wait but grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward a side of the hearth. There he ran his fingers along a stone until he found the small indentation where he could open a hidden door. She had to turn sideways to fit into the hollowed-out section of the wall. Her uncle closed it, locking her behind the wall of the common room.

  It was dark, but she’d often played in the space as a child. She drew in a deep breath and slid down farther, to where she could see into the kitchen through tiny places where the plaster had been removed so a hidden priest might see out.

  Someone pounded on the door.

  “What’s all this?” her
uncle asked gruffly. “Is that my niece at last? I’m sick with worry.”

  “We are here for Athena Trappes.”

  Through the peepholes, Athena saw the constables with their white staffs. All along the street, doors opened as the neighbors came to investigate why the sheriff had sent the constables out into the night.

  Every honest man was expected to show he was not harboring a criminal by opening his door wide.

  “And you come to me?” Henry demanded. “Why?”

  It wasn’t a lie. Athena realized Henry was a man who was bound by his honor. She bit her lip as her insides churned. Tonight her fate would be decided.

  “Baron Scrope’s son has accused her of setting fire to his London home.”

  There was a shifting among those watching in the streets. Fire was a grave crime because it might spread so easily in the tight confines of the city.

  “You say my niece was with Galwell?” Henry demanded again. “Before he finished the contracts with me? He has offered for my niece and then takes her to his home? I will have satisfaction!”

  “So will the sheriff,” the captain of the constables said. “You shall—”

  Henry interrupted the man. “You will return to the sheriff and demand to know why Galwell Scrope took my niece to his home when he had sworn to finish negotiating contracts with me, as he pledged his word of honor to do. What manner of a man is noble by birth and yet not honest in his dealing with a common man such as myself? He stood in my home and vowed to wed Athena! It is well known on this street! If my niece set a fire, she was likely attempting to escape from a man who is dishonorable at his core. Did he attempt to make her his whore?”

  Now there was a mumbling among those watching, good men who had indeed heard Galwell say he would wed her. The constable captain was uncertain. He looked between Henry and the crowd moving closer.

  “I will put the question to the sheriff.”

  The constables turned and marched away. Henry nodded to a few of his neighbors before firmly shutting the door.