The Guardian by Diana Knightley

Forty-four - Kaitlyn

“What do you know about my husband’s heart?” I tried to sound casual.

He said, “I’ve met him, I’ve seen his weakness.” He grinned at Lady Mairead. “Do you think of your son as weak?”

“Of course nae. He is much stronger than ye, and he is verra dangerous when he is angry and I canna think of anything that will anger him more than that ye hae his wife here, holdin’ her against her—”

“What?” He held his hands up. “Who’s holding her? I’m feeding her dinner. She’s a guest!”

Everyone at the table laughed.

Lady Mairead said, “Then allow her tae leave. Ye daena need her for our negotiations. She is young and impetuous. Her incautious behavior will only cause trouble for ye.”

“And that is why you didn’t get a meal, Lady Mairead.” He shook his head slowly. “Do you hear this, Kaitlyn? How your mother-in-law thinks of you?”

I said, “I’m very aware of her feelings about me. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re an ass and you need to take that fucking necklace off her throat.”

He took out a small box, no bigger than a ring box, and pressed his finger to the surface. Lady Mairead began to choke and cough. She scratched at the surface of the band.

The actresses shrieked and all the guests jumped from their chairs. B.P. said, “What are you doing, Sir Padraig?”

Sir Padraig took his finger from the box and Lady Mairead all but collapsed on the table.

He stood and put his napkin beside his plate. “I want everyone to go.” He gestured toward the door. “The exit is through there.”

The actors and producers about fell over each other, gathering their wraps and bags, and trying to get out of the room first.

Sir Padraig slumped into his chair and said to Agnie MacLeod. “Told you this would be fun.”

“I think you should kill her, Sir Padraig. She and her husband have killed everyone I ever cared about — Reyes, Donnan—”

I said, “You have fucking horrible taste in men.”

The table was covered with half-finished meals, forks and knives tossed down, napkins all over the floor, chairs pulled out in every direction. I glanced beside me, a knife was within reach.

He reached across the table, grabbed all the utensils and pulled them toward himself. He wore a shit-eating grin, his hand on my gun.

“Your husband...” He slowly shook his head. “I can’t believe he let you come here by yourself. I rather wanted to meet him again, I’d love to talk to him more about his children.”

“Don’t you dare talk about my kids.”

In the corner the young woman glanced over at us, then went back to looking down at the table.

I said, “Who’s the lady in the corner?”

He smirked, “Who? Rebecca? She’s no one.” He chuckled and took a bite of his steak and chewed slowly.

Then he swallowed. “You know, I’ve seen his medical records.”

I narrowed my eyes but refused to answer.

“You’re not interested in knowing?” He turned to Agnie MacLeod, “She doesn’t want to know.”

I said, “Know what, you tepid bag of moldy fish stew?”

He laughed, a laugh like a cackle. Then stopped cold. “That many years ago, back before my time, another king had him under his care. That king discovered that Magnus has a weakened heart, it’s congenital. He got it from his mother probably, but whatever — he had a heart attack, now there is scarring. He is weak, weak, terribly weak.” He raised his glass and sneered at Lady Mairead.

“There is nothing weak about my husband, you are making that shit up.”

“Oh I am? You’re a liar. You know this, when he was there with me, I saw it. I had him checked. He’s defective. Broken. He won’t last another few years. He won’t be able to keep a throne, rule a kingdom. His own heart will bring him to his knees.”

He shrugged. “Of course this is pretty convenient for me. That whole time you’ve been living at Kilchurn he’s been dealing with it.” He tsk-tsked. “So far away from any modern hospitals. No matter how you cut it, I won this game. I don’t even have to do anything, he will just topple without my help.”

He pressed his finger on the small box again and Lady Mairead began to gasp and claw at the band.

The young pregnant woman shrieked from the corner, “Stop it! You’re going to kill her!”

He took his finger off the box and Lady Mairead collapsed back on the table. Then he turned in his chair and said, “What do you care? Do you want me to come back there?”

She shook her head.

Then he looked at his watch. “Ah yes, it’s begun.”