Free Warrior's Lady by Gerri Russell Page B

female?"
    Camden nodded. "I have inadvertently placed Violet in terrible danger by hiring that assassin. No matter how many guards I surround her with, there is always a chance that she could be hurt if they come after Rhiannon."
    "You could always send the Ruthven girl away."
    "I can't do that," Camden said, stung.
    "Because?"
    "Two wrongs won't make this right," Camden said, bitterly.
    "Then what will?"
    Camden sighed. "I wish I knew."
    Orrin shrugged. "You've managed to bring Lady Violet here. The guards and I will be watchful. She is safe in this castle."
    Camden clapped Orrin on the shoulder. "Thank you, my friend. I am in your debt."
    Orrin smiled, his earlier stiffness gone. "That is true, and I am keeping tally of just how much."
    The tension in Camden's neck eased as they fell into an easy banter that had seen them through their youth. Camden opened the door and stepped into the foyer outside the great hall.
    "With me watching our two suspicious residents, whatever will you do to keep yourself occupied?" Orrin smiled.
    Camden's thoughts immediately darkened. "I best go see what our uninvited guest is up to."
    Orrin's teasing smile widened. "Truly? Is it that unpleasant?"
    Camden frowned, his mood only further darkened at Orrin's taunts. "I'll let you know."
     
    "Where are your ambitions, boy?" Mistress Berwick chided her son from her sickbed. She struggled to sit up, but a spasm of coughing sent her back down to the pillow.
    Bishop Berwick brought her a sip of water from the pitcher at her bedside. "Drink this, Mother. It will help." Only because he'd laced it with juice of the poppy.
    She drank from the cup, and with frail hands, handed it back to him. "We need to plan. We need to come up with a way to get the Charm Stone away from whoever has it now. It has to be with Camden Lockhart. Where else would that woman have sent her precious Stone?"
    The bishop set the cup on the bedside table with a smooth grace, despite the anger that seethed inside him. "You are sick, Mother. No planning today."
    She scowled at him. "I am not sick. God would never punish me that way. I am the mother of a great bishop, a holy man."
    The muscles of his neck clenched at her continued ranting. When would the tisane kick in? "Even holy men get sick, Mother."
    "Nay," she said in a less forceful tone as her eyelids, flicked closed once, then twice. "God would never strike me down," she mumbled.
    Soon she would slip into a blessed sleep and he wouldn't have to hear her lectures any longer. Did she not think he wanted to be the next Archbishop of Glasgow? Did she not see what he had done, the horrible things he had been forced to do, to show to her that, aye, he did have ambition after all?
    He wanted to make her proud. But even more, he wanted the power the office of the archbishop would give to him. He deserved it.
    Finally the woman sighed. A moment later her soft snores filled the room. He frowned down at her sleeping body. When had that flush of pink spots appeared upon the flesh of her neck and chest? His frowned deepened. He should never have allowed her to journey to the Isle of Iona to see her sister with only a maid to support her. The maid had stayed behind when she'd suddenly fallen ill. Did his mother suffer the same illness now? Unlike his mother, he did believe God was capable of sending illness their way. A purification of sorts to keep them humble.
    They were vulnerable. Except if they had the Stone. The bishop felt a flush of warmth move through him. The Charm Stone could cure his mother as well as secure for him the very ambitions he sought.
    His excitement faded. He used the Ruthvens to crush James, but still one obstacle stood in his way. Camden Lockhart. Somehow he had to find a way to remove the man. Then he would take the mystical stone for himself and become a man of miracles. A holy man unlike any other the Church council had ever seen.
    He could have everything he'd always wanted — power and status. He twisted back