Chapter 3

The voyage to Scotland was harrowing, and not because of the cruel winter's winds that ripped mercilessly across the boat and seemed to rankle Mary's very soul. No, what really made her heart grip as they crossed those seas was the memory of the look in Francis' eyes when he had heard his father's command that Bash must accompany Mary to her country.

True to their plan, Mary had convinced the King that it was the duty of the Master of Horse and Hunt to accompany either of the Queens should they be required to embark on a lengthy journey. Either despite the fact that this made no sense or because of it, Henry had complied merrily, seeming to take no end of continual mirth in the nonsensical title he had granted his illegitimate and much put-upon son.

But Francis caught on to the strangeness of his father's whim and demanded to know where he had concocted such an idea. Henry, by that time, could not remember and simply took full credit for the notion. Yet it was with a suspicious and unsettled look that Francis bid Mary a yet-affectionate and trusting farewell on the docks.

Mary blamed herself bitterly for still running off like this, with Francis and Kenna's feelings at stake and nothing to gain but her and Bash's own selfish bid for a temporary happiness. Whatever comfort they could take from one another in her homeland would doubtless only make it hurt more to part once they returned to France. Yet she knew not how to quell her passionate devotion to Bash, this undeniable need she had to be with him in whatever way was possible.

When they arrived at the castle, Mary's mother glided out to greet her with a typically sly look that instantly annoyed her daughter and made her half-want to turn back around for France at once.

"Well, isn't this an unexpected treat?" Mary de Guise remarked smoothly, enveloping Mary in an overzealous embrace that smacked of insincerity. Mary might wish that she could trust her mother and feel the warmth of true maternal love from her, but all that their relationship had thus far entailed had left her quite cynical on the subject.

"Mother," Mary replied briskly, doing her best to be friendly. "Thank you for this kind welcome. I have returned home to let my people see that they have a Queen, and to breathe in the air of my country once more. It is something I have long wished to do."

"Understandably," her mother replied condescendingly. "And what have we here?" Her clever eyes darted across to where Bash stood at some distance behind Mary. Seeing that he was beckoned, he stepped forward and properly acknowledged her.

"You've brought the little bastard," Mary's mother noted. "Poor, melancholy-looking thing that he is. Ah, Sebastian, you've had a hard time of it, I understand, for which I'm quite sorry. But what brings you here with my daughter, now? I should think, my dear-" returning her gaze to Mary - "that you would be doing all you could to bond with the man to whom you are actually married. The one for whom you are meant to produce an heir with some haste. I must confess, I am confused by this circumstance."

"Well, Mother," Mary said, linking her arm through her mother's and leading her inside the castle, "I see no need to discuss these matters in the freezing cold. Let us retire within - I am sure you have prepared some repast for us?"

"Of course," her mother assured her with that same false-seeming smile, leading them to the dining hall where a lavish meal was set out. Servants whipped away their cloaks and a stark silence fell as the door closed behind them. Now it was just Mary, her mother, and Bash, along with the servers. How very awkward.

Mary sat down at the table and one of the servers decanted her some red wine, of which she partook immediately and with some gratitude. "Why don't you sit down, Mother, Bash?"

They both did, and Mary commenced her deception with greater ease than she would have anticipated. Did she have the heart of a liar after all? Had she inherited some natural proclivity for deception from her mother? It chilled her even as she was glad to get away with her words.

"King Henry insisted that Bash accompany me on my journey home," Mary explained, catching Bash's eyes as he sat and lifted his own cup of wine. He looked serious but did not betray the danger of their true situation with regard to each other. "Francis, you see, was unable to come due to his royal duties. And I could wait no longer to see my people, yet the King was unwilling to send me off without a trusted companion. As you have doubtless heard, there have been attempts on my life recently."

"I suppose that makes some twisted sense, particularly as I have heard that King Henry is currently one blackbird short of a pie. Is it true that he is quite deranged these days?" Mary de Guise inquired, a little too amused at the prospect.

"By no means," Mary returned her smile, not giving her the satisfaction of confirming the rumor, and not eager to make the King's orders seem less trustworthy or legitimate.

An hour later, Mary and Bash had been ushered to their separate and quite disparate chambers. Mary rolled her eyes as she unpacked, noticing her mother's overt attempt to keep Mary and Bash as far apart as possible, which ran appropriately contrary to the primary reason for Bash's presence.

She waited for the dark of night to descend before she snuck off to Bash's quarters, cloaked and hidden in the shadows. Mary doubted very much that she had been observed, but in her mother's home, she could never be sure. She knocked lightly upon the door and was instantly admitted.

"Hello," Bash said nervously, taking her hand and dropping the hood of her cloak down.

"Hello," Mary replied, untying the cord and placing her overgarment to one side. The space between them felt painful, every inch of air that there was to it. She unhesitatingly stepped forward to close the breach, taking his face in her hands and kissing him.

Bash sighed into her mouth as their kiss deepened and he removed the pins that held her hair in a delicate upsweep. Her long, brunette locks dropped loose around her shoulders, emphasizing the vulnerability and intimacy of the moment...a sensation that was increased when she felt his hands on the laces that secured her dress in the back.

Her world was spinning as the delicious preciousness of these moments consumed her. Their mutual longing found no satisfaction with every new forbidden gesture between them, but instead they each grew bolder, hungrier. Mary's dress fell away in a luscious heap and she pushed it aside with one foot as Bash drew her down to the bed.

She stared at him, slightly drawing back from his irresistible mouth just long enough to take in his insatiably yearning expression. His shirt was removed within the space of another heartbeat, and as their bodies pressed yet closer, she could feel the press of his urgent desire through the thin material of her white under-dress. "Bash," Mary whispered, a shock of reciprocal arousal going through her as she registered the full reality of what they were doing.

"I love you, Mary," Bash assured her, stroking her cheek and then running his hand through her hair, giving her time to consider before they went any further. "You're everything to me. I've been lost to you since we first met, but that's my fate and I fully accept it. You don't have to do this if the cost is too great for you to bear."

Mary gazed at his much-loved face, his kind, self-sacrificing, intelligent eyes offering his soul to her once again.

"No cost is too much compared to the heartbreak I feel when we are apart," Mary confessed, embracing for the first time the joy and the sin that were inextricably bonded. "I love you, too, Bash, and I want to be with you. Now and forever." With this vow, spoken in a trembling, yet quite certain tone, Mary allowed herself to be drawn further into the passionate fire that blazed between them. In the full expression of their love came more pure, unfathomable delight than she'd ever dreamed was possible.

Instead of running from the irrevocable disaster they were creating, Mary accepted it entirely and without regret. It was her only reality now. And as difficult as it was to believe that she could rush headlong into so grave a sin, it was worse to consider how empty her life would be had she done otherwise.