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.She turned and continued at a more sedate pace, with Alexander at her side.Does he hate me now? She clasped her shaking hands together tightly.The look in his eye when he knew I sent William, the way he cried out…Alexander frowned.“Are you unwell, lady?”“No.” Isabella forced a smile.“A slight headache, perhaps.”He searched her face.“Nervous of the morrow?”“No.” She wet her lips.“Are you?”“Less so now that I have seen your sweet face, my lady.” He cleared his throat, shifting his weight.“Have you all you need for the wedding, then?”“I can think of nothing, the queen has attended to all.She has even made a gift of my wedding clothes.”“I look forward,” he said, stumbling over the words, “to calling you my lady wife.”“And I to calling you husband.”He smiled.“I have news.I am told the king will bestow us with a fine wedding gift.An estate to the north, good lands along the coast, and a handsome income of a thousand a year.”She gave a bland smile.“How kind.”“Are you not delighted?” He tilted his head, frowning now.“What’s the matter?”There were courtiers and servants about, but this was as private a moment as she could hope for.She shifted her feet.“There is something that weighs upon my mind.”“What is it?” He scowled.“Has someone given you offense? I will straightaway to my brother and the king—”“No! No such thing.I—only I have been thinking of the lady Caitrina.”He shook his head.“I do not know the lady.Is she English?”“She is sister to the man who held me for ransom.The MacKimzie.” She rushed on.“She was very kind to me, a gentle born lady indeed and delicate of health.I was thinking I should write to her and tell her when she could expect her brother home.”He looked away.Isabella’s breath caught.“My lord?”“I am sorry to give grief to a lady who was kind to you.”“Grief? What do you mean?”“MacKimzie hangs for his crime in two days’ time.The king has declared it so.”Isabella gripped Alexander’s arm.“My lord, if you went to His Majesty, asked for leniency—!”“The king cannot allow any to raise a hand against his own.” He embraced her gently and pressed a kiss to her forehead.“Nor can I.For you, lady wife, I will see this done.”Fond of her indeed, she thought, horrified.He frowned.“Truly, my lady, you are troubled by this villain’s death.”In some corner of her mind, Isabella heard the warning bells of danger in his tone.“Yes, of course,” she replied evenly, hearing her voice as if were someone else’s.“I lament I have not better tidings for his sister.She was ever kind to me.A pity.”She hooked her arm in his, resuming their walk through the gallery.As if by accident her breast pressed against his arm.“An estate with an income of a thousand a year?” Isabella watched his suspicion melt as she smiled a courtier’s smile.His glance went to her décolletage.“How generous His Majesty is! And how well he must think of you, my lord!”When the sickly winter sun at last made its appearance, Isabella pressed her cheek to the cold glass of the window, watching it rise.The ache in her back was fierce from the sleepless night and she rubbed at it absentmindedly.Only another day!A dozen plans occurred to her but there was so very little time, no room for error or misstep, and she had no allies to rally to her cause.Even Kat, who loved her so, remained unmoved.And William, who might sincerely care for her as his own daughter, would not intervene.She had only till that pale sun rose again to save him.She thought of the Lord of the Isles, his life once spared by the king’s chivalrous nature when the queen and her ladies appealed to him to be merciful.She would plead for Colyne.She would kneel before the king and queen and her husband at the kirk door with all the court and the priest watching and plead for Colyne to be spared.She would ask it to be done as a wedding gift as repayment to his sister, who had been so kind to her during her captivity.Certainly there would be gossip after she knelt to plead for a rebel, but she would bear it.Her husband would be embarrassed, likely furious as well, an ill start to her marriage.Alexander was already suspicious.No matter, she thought, closing her eyes.No cost is too high.She allowed the maids to ready her for the wedding without protest.Their giggles and gossip died out quickly in Isabella’s exhausted, absorbed presence.In the end Kat waved them out, putting the last touches on Isabella’s finery herself.Fit for a princess, the gown’s silver cloth had the finest embroidery to enliven it, with rich fur trimming and delicate lace.Upon seeing it Isabella wondered if the queen had lavished such attention on her cousin out of longing for her daughter, the Princess Margaret, now Dauphine of France.At last satisfied, Kat stepped back.“Are you ready, poppet?”“Yes,” Isabella replied wearily.“Let us have the thing done.”“I prayed to live long enough to see you marry well.” Kat smoothed her hair as she had when Isabella was a child.“Alexander is a fine man.He is everything I had hoped for you
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