were not permitted to go there.”
Ian knew from personal experience that was a lie. The queen’s ladies sneaked men in all the time.
“I didn’t like it, but it’s only women in there, so Sileas should be safe enough,” Niall said, but there was a question in his voice. “But she’s been gone a long while.”
Ian turned to the others. “Can ye hold the guards for a wee bit?”
“Wait, I see an easier way in.” Alex shifted his gaze across the room. “I believe that is the English lass who used to have an eye for ye.”
Ian followed Alex’s gaze to a woman with a graceful figure and a delicate, perfectly proportioned face framed by very fair tendrils.
“Are ye speaking of Lady Philippa?” Niall asked in a wistful voice.
She was, indeed, Philippa, the woman Ian had once planned to marry. It seemed a lifetime ago.
“I’d wager Philippa can get ye into the queen’s parlor in a wink, if she’s a mind to it,” Alex said, pushing Ian forward. “So make an effort to be charming.”
Philippa turned her head and blinked several times when she saw Ian walking toward her. After whispering something to the man standing next to her, she swept across the room to meet him with a smile lighting her face.
“You are as handsome as ever, Ian MacDonald,” she said, holding her gloved hand out to him. “How many other ladies’ hearts have you broken since last we met?”
“I must speak with ye alone,” Ian said, and took her by the elbow.
She glanced sideways at him and smiled as he led her into a darkened alcove. “Oh my, the ladies will be all atwitter—and green with envy.”
Ian bit back his impatience.
“I never apologized for not coming back for ye.” He owed her that—and it seemed politic to apologize before asking a favor. “I did mean to return and marry ye, but… it wasn’t possible.”
“Heavens, Ian, I couldn’t have married you,” she said, and laughed that tinkling laugh that used to enchant him. “I was one of King James’s mistresses at the time.”
Ian was stunned. He had thought her an innocent—and in love with him.
Philippa gave him a bittersweet smile. “I was doing as my family bid me. They sent me to court for that very purpose.”
“I’m sorry your family used ye so poorly. It was wrong of them.”
“Ah, Ian,” she said with a sigh. “You are gallant. I always liked that in you.”
“Since ye are here at court again, I assume the queen never discovered what ye were to the king,” Ian said, hoping she was on good terms with the queen so she could help him. “I hear she is a vindictive woman, so ye are taking a chance being here.”
“This time, it is my husband who sent me.” She leaned forward to whisper next to his ear. “He says Archibald Douglas, the Earl of Angus, will soon have the power of the crown. That’s why he wants me to lure the Douglas into my bed.”
Ian stiffened. “Your husband asked ye to do that?”
“As if bedding the man would do us any good. Archibald Douglas is not a man to make decisions with his cock, or, alas”—she patted Ian’s chest—“with his heart.”
“Ach, ’tis a shame ye ended up with such a miserable husband.”
She shrugged one delicate shoulder. “We are of a like mind on most things.”
Ian didn’t know what to say to that.
“Besides, I can take care of myself with the Douglas,” she said. “Unlike the poor virgin he has in his clutches at the moment. The girl is such an innocent, she hasn’t a chance against the likes of him.”
A prickle ran up Ian’s spine. “Tell me about this lass.”
“Apparently, she is heir to a castle the Douglas wants. This morning, I heard him convincing the queen to help the girl end her marriage—and wed her to one of his Douglas cousins.” She heaved a sigh. “I think I met her, and I fear that once the Douglas sees what a beauty she is, the cousin will not have her before he does.”
Ian gripped her arm. “Philippa, I must get to her.”
Philippa’s eyes went wide, and her hand went to her chest. “Do not tell me… No, Ian, you cannot be the husband she is trying to get rid of, are you?”
“I am,” he ground out. “I’ve come to take her home. Can ye get me inside the queen’s apartments?”
She lowered her head. “I don’t frighten easily, but the truth is that I am a bit afraid of Archibald Douglas.”
“I promise ye,” Ian said, leaning closer, “I would never tell who let me in.”
“I suppose you would not, even under torture,” she said, a faint smile returning to her lips. She held out her hand to him, “Come, we’d best hurry.”
Philippa took him up the servants’ staircase, which was hidden behind a screen. When she reached the top step, she turned to face him.
“I hope you won’t blame her if…” She paused and bit her lip. “… if you find her too late.”
Sweat broke out on his forehead. “Just tell me where to go from here.”
