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A Spy at the Highland Court
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A Spy at the Highland Court
Celeste Barclay
Text copyright by the Author.
This work was made possible by special permission through the de Wolfe Pack Connected World publishing program and WolfeBane Publishing, a dba of Dragonblade Publishing. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original World of de Wolfe Pack connected series by Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc. remains the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc., or the affiliates or licensors.
All characters created by the author of this novel remain the copyrighted property of the author.
De Wolfe Pack: The Series
By Aileen Fish
The Duke She Left Behind
By Alexa Aston
Rise of de Wolfe
By Amanda Mariel
Love’s Legacy
One Wanton Wager
By Anna Markland
Hungry Like de Wolfe
By Ashe Barker
Wolfeheart
By Autumn Sand
Reflections of Love
Reflections of Time
By Barbara Devlin
Lone Wolfe: Heirs of Titus De Wolfe Book 1
The Big Bad De Wolfe: Heirs of Titus De Wolfe Book 2
Tall, Dark & De Wolfe: Heirs of Titus De Wolfe Book 3
By Cathy MacRae
The Saint
The Penitent
The Cursed
By Celeste Barclay
A Spy at the Highland Court
By Christy English
Dragon Fire
By Danelle Harmon
Heart of the Sea Wolfe
By Emmanuelle de Maupassant
Master of the Moor
By Emily E K Murdoch
Whirlwind with a Wolfe
By Hildie McQueen
The Duke’s Fiery Bride
By Jennifer Siddoway
De Wolfe in Disguise
By Kathryn Le Veque
River’s End
By Lana Williams
Trusting the Wolfe
Ruby’s Gamble
By Laura Landon
A Voice on the Wind
By Leigh Lee
Of Dreams and Desire
By Mairi Norris
Brabanter’s Rose
By Marlee Meyers
The Fall of the Black Wolf
By Mary Lancaster
Vienna Wolfe
The Wicked Wolfe
By Meara Platt
Nobody’s Angel
Kiss an Angel
Bhrodi’s Angel
By Mia Pride
The Lone Wolf’s Lass
The Last Wolfe Lass
By Michele Lang
An Honest Woman
By Rosamund Winchester
The Defender and the Dove
By Ruth Kaufman
My Enemy, My Love
My Rebel, My Love
My Rival, My Love
By Sarah Hegger
Bad Wolfe on the Rise
By Scarlett Cole
Together Again
By Sherry Ewing
To Love a Scottish Laird
To Love an English Knight
By Tammy Andresen
To Want a Rogue
By Victoria Vane
Breton Wolfe Book 1
Ivar the Red Book 2
The Bastard of Brittany Book 3
By Violetta Rand
Never Cry de Wolfe
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
De Wolfe Pack: The Series
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Epilogue
Chapter One
Dedric Hage watched as the English king continued his royal rage as courtiers and advisors eased away from their irate sovereign. His Majesty’s face was mottled with red splotches that only accentuated his fair complexion, and spittle formed at the corners of his mouth as his rant amplified. King Edward stalked about the chamber on the long legs that earned him the moniker “Longshanks.”
“I don’t give a bloody damn who oversaw the attack. It failed!” He railed against the last advisor who tried to reassure him that the recent loss was not the end of his campaign against the Scots. “Failure is failure. That usurper believes he’s gotten the upper hand, and he will continue worming his way further into England now that he thinks he has outsmarted me. I should have killed him when I had the chance.”
King Edward muttered his final comments as he sank back into the engraved and carved chair that sat on a dais. His bile spewed, the king retreated into his own thoughts as the rest of the chamber was left wondering what to do next.
Dedric had seen this pattern countless times over the course of his life. He was all too familiar with the king’s mercurial temper and unpredictable outbursts, but he also knew Edward was one of the best strategists and logisticians to have ever lived. While he might not like the man, he respected him. At times. Ric watched as the king scanned the crowd, assessing each knight present until his eyes settled on Ric, who wished he could melt into the curtains and watch the people in the gardens below.
“Sir Dedric, approach.”
Ric stifled his groan, knowing from experience that the king would construe even the slightest hesitation as a personal, punishable offense. Ric approached the dais and bent into a low bow, awaiting the slight flick of Edward’s fingers that would indicate he could rise. He knew it was the king’s intention to make him wait.
When the signal finally came, Ric stood to his full height with his shoulders back and spine straight, just as had been hammered into him since the days when he was a page in the royal household.
“You were there.” It was more an accusation than an observation. “What the hell went wrong?”
Dedric did not shift or squirm like he wanted, and he did not avert his gaze. Instead he weighed his words and chose them judiciously.
“There were simply more of them than us.”
Ric did not miss the collective gasp that his curt answer elicited. He waited for the king to explode again, but this time Edward laughed. It was a hearty laugh, but Ric did not miss the lack of mirth in the king’s eyes. “So, it was as simple as that? How did I not realize?” Edward stood once more and left the dais, this time placing himself directly in front of Ric.
“Sir Dedric, since I’d already deduced the insufficient numbers on our side, I had hoped you might have more insight than to state the obvious!” What started as a reasonable tone ended in a bellow.
“Your Majesty, the clans put aside their enmity toward one another, not just neighbors but Highlanders and Lowlanders, and showed up in great force. There was a great conviction to defeat us and not just for their land.”
“Ah, yes. The great Scottish pride. The same pride I have spent a lifetime hammering out of them.” Edward sized up Ric, and Ric knew whatever came next would be something he would dread. “You’re a Scot.”
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The king paused, purposely though silently encouraging the whispers that spread through the chamber, grimacing when Ric did not blink. Edward had hoped to garner some reaction from the knight standing before him, but he had underestimated what Dedric Hage had learned over a lifetime of serving the English king.
“Half, Your Majesty. I’m a Hage.” The name of the well-respected English family made many in the chamber take notice, but the king’s mention of his Scottish heritage was a stigma Ric could never get past.
“Yes, and like your father Christian, you are one of my best knights. You have been part of my household since I took you in as a page. I just hope you don’t make the same mistake as your father and go falling in love with a Scot, then getting yourself killed. I’m not raising any more half-Hages.”
The alliteration garnered the snickers Edward wanted. Dedric had heard the phrase countless times over the twenty-plus years he had been in the king’s service. His father had been the illustrious Christian Hage, a knight in the king’s service sent to the border to wage war against the MacLellan and Maxwell clans. Christian ended up falling in love with Emelote MacLellan. They married and were content to make a life for themselves with her people, but a former friend who never accepted Christian’s decision to side with the Scots was his betrayer. Christian and Emelote’s marriage only lasted six years, ending abruptly when the English killed Christian in a border skirmish. Dedric had few memories of his father, but he clung tightly to them. They had driven him his entire life, earning him the title of a knight.
When Dedric was seven, the English—led by his father’s former friend—raided and burned their home. The man assaulted Emelote before murdering her and dragging Ric to King Edward. They forced him to become a page, and by the time he became a squire at age fourteen, he was sure Edward ordered the attack to ensure they took him from his mother. He was payment for the wrong Edward believed his father committed. His mother was retribution. The king had not taken him in but rather stolen him, and he had not raised him but intimidated him.
Ric remained silent, not having missed the real meaning of the king’s words. He was being sent back to Scotland when he had only just returned a week earlier. He was still tired, not to mention battered and bruised, from the last campaign. He had hoped for a longer reprieve, mostly so he could soak in countless hot baths before riding his horse again.
“Which men would you have me lead, Sire?”
“Not men. Just you. And I suppose your squire. You shall make use of that MacLellan blood and be of greater use to me.”
Ric’s stomach dropped to his boots. He had seen none of his mother’s people since he was a child. He knew next to nothing about them other than they lived along the border. His missions had been to the eastern border while the MacLellans’ land laid to the west near the Stewarts, Maxwells, and Dunbars.
He knew marginally more about his father, but his life and death were stories best kept far from King Edward’s ears. As a nine-year-old, he had once gone nearly a week on bread and water for asking one too many questions about his parents. The king had banished Ric to a storage room, where he sat in the dark and feared they would never release him. He learned then that Longshanks had a sadistic and vengeful streak. It had been at the queen’s mercy that the king forgave and reinstated Ric as a page.
Queen Eleanor had taken pity on the orphan, having lost several of her own children. She used her influence on her husband to ensure Dedric received the tutelage he needed to become first a squire, then a knight. Dedric appreciated that Eleanor had the ability to tame her belligerent husband from a roaring bear to a docile lapdog, so great was their love.
The king’s ongoing monologue brought Ric back to the present, and he caught the last of the king’s orders. “You leave in the morning for the Bruce’s court. You had better not fail me. I will rely upon the information you send back to destroy these heathenous Scots.”
The king clapped his hand on Ric’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. There was an element of pride in the king’s eyes that made Ric wonder if Edward saw more to him than he revealed in public.
“Aye, Sire. I will not fail you.”
Ric wound his way through the corridors and passageways until he came to the knights’ quarters. He had no intention of being seen again before morning. He would summon his squire, order a bath, and soak until goosebumps drove him from the tub into bed. He also intended to have his squire pack their belongings and squirrel away any food the kitchens could spare. Ric was not as tall as the king, but he stood over six feet and was a large man. His squire was a youth of seventeen who still seemed to be made up of hollow arms and legs. They both ate a significant amount, and the supplies given to a traveling knight would barely last them the first two days.
“The king seems to favor you after all.” The honeyed voice made the hairs on the back of Ric’s neck stand up. He knew who it belonged to, and he longed to bolt in the opposite direction from its owner.
“Good eve, Lady Bella.” Ric dipped his head but continued on.
“We have much to plan for. We should refresh our memories on how well we suit one another.”
Ric came to a halt as he looked down at the stunning woman he had made the mistake of bedding several times shortly after receiving his spurs. He had not even turned twenty-one and was still in awe that he had earned the title of a knight. The woman had appeared out of nowhere and filled his head with compliments and flirtation. As a landless orphan, he was unprepared for such an enticing woman to take an interest in him. Lady Bella had flattered him all the way into her bed.
It was only after a month of sneaking off with her that he learned she was sneaking off with several other men and did not share his feelings. Feelings he understood now had been puppy love and infatuation, but realizing she would never marry him was enough to teach him to keep all women at arm’s length. He also knew that Lady Arabella Fitz-Bigod answered to Bella because she believed her looks warranted her being called beautiful as her name, not just as a descriptor. Lady Bella was the illegitimate daughter of a courtier, and King Edward often used her to seduce men into telling their secrets. Ric was not interested, and he had no secrets to tell.
“I see the king didn’t inform you that I will be your go-between. You will give your messages to me, and I will ensure they make it to the king.”
“Thank you for bringing that to my attention.” Ric tried to step past her, but Bella pressed her body against his. He leaned away, refusing the temptation after being celibate for the past several months while entrenched in battles against the Scots. He did not trust his body to cooperate with his mind. Bella knew that and pressed more firmly against him, her hand trailing over his chest to his waist then reaching even further down. His body reacted just as she wanted, and she purred as she stroked his arousal.
“I can tell you remember. Traveling together will be entertaining.” Bella pressed harder against Ric, and she tempted him to give in to her clear invitation. However, her words that they would travel together was the final bucket of cold water he needed. It irritated him to learn that he would have to rely on her for this mission, but to travel with her was unacceptable. He knew he would make a swift change in plans.
“If memory serves me as well as you believe, I recall you are currently tied to both the Earl of Salisbury and the Earl of Essex, not to mention the Earls of Hertford and Lancaster. I’m sure you haven’t time.” He grasped her wrist and pulled it from his hardened cock, stifling the groan as his body rejected his sense of honor, preferring the release he knew she offered.
Bella was not easily deterred and once again leaned forward, offering him a view of the top of her nipples and the supple flesh of her breasts. Ric looked over her head and spotted his squire, Robbie, standing in front of his chamber.
“You would do well to remember those names since your future rests in the messages the king receives and who delivers them,” Bella warned.
Ric did not look at her as he nodded onc
e more and stepped around her at last. He made his way to his chamber without looking back. He opened the door and pushed his squire inside. “Begin packing. We leave during the evening meal. I intend to be far from this county by the time the sun rises.”
“Lady Bella seemed pleased to see you,” Robbie mused.
“You shouldn’t have been looking,” Ric chastised his squire, but there was no bite to his words.
“She’s rather hard to miss.”
Ric thought of something else that was hard.
“Precisely. That is why we are riding out tonight rather than in the morning. If we wait, we won’t be able to miss her.”
“Where to, my lord?”
“Scotland.”
Robbie’s unimpressed smirk ended abruptly when Ric clarified. “Robert the Bruce’s court.”
Chapter Two
It took three days for Dedric and Robbie to reach the Scottish border, but rather than cross into Kerr territory, they kept off the main roads and paths while they traveled another day and a half to MacLellan lands. The rolling hills and vistas of Cumberland and Northumberland impressed Ric, and the landscape continued into the Southern Uplands across the border. Ric considered the north a wild and beautiful place, and as a young knight, he had hoped to one day to earn a piece of land in the northern counties. He had survived more than one frigid and blustery winter there, but the other seasons made up for it.
As they traveled further west, approaching his mother’s clan territory, his heart felt at home. It was an inexplicable and irrational emotion, but a peace of mind and body settled over him. He had never felt it to this extent along other parts of the border or even in the heart of the English north. The land was not drastically different from one side of the border to the other, but he realized that he was returning to the place of his birth and his family. That created this longing.
Robbie rode in silence, and Ric was grateful that the squire had learned early in his service to curb his natural penchant for chatter. Ric appreciated the young man’s company, and Robbie impressed him with his innate abilities with horses in and near battle. The more agitated other horses became before battle, the calmer those Robbie managed remained. He possessed insight into the people they traveled and camped with, and Ric knew he had remained alive more than once due to the information Robbie squirreled away to him.