It was the same place she had came upon with Lord Heaton awhile ago. A very long while ago. Or at least, that's how it seemed to her as she stared across the clearing. Siobhan grazed a hundred or so feet away, her nose deep in the sweet grass and her eyes closed in pleasure of food. Niamh watched her horse with something akin to longing. How easy it was when everything was taken care of for you. When you didn't have to fight for it or scratch your way to the top. Horses had a hierarchy of sorts between them but Niamh was willing to bet that horses weren't as manipulative, sneaky or evil as humans could be. For that reason alone, she longed to be simple as well.

Except if she was, her heart would stop beating and she would simply cease to exist. Her breath would stop. Her limbs would stop. Her eyes would stop. Her brain, fair and wondrous as it was, would stop. Everything in the world of Niamh would stop and as much as she hated to acknowledge it, her ambition had become her life and her source of energy. When she woke up in the morning, it was the first thing she thought about. When she cleverly flirted with a lordling, she thought about it then too. When she curtsied to her father or a lord or the king or the prince or anyone higher on the foodchain than she...she thought of it.

And some small part of her, the part that was kind and loving and thoughtful, disappeared whenever she became consumed with her ambition.

That or it went into hiding and was waiting for a time to lash out at her and take her over again. She felt as if that part was the enemy sometimes, for all it's hiding and it's sneaking. Sometimes she found herself thinking of Eamonn and she when they were children and she longed for those days. Other times, she found herself brushing Siobhan and stroking the horse with the flat of her hand simply because she wanted Siobhan to be happy as a horse.

It was strange enough to have two parts warring inside of her. Stranger still to not know which side was right.

She dwelt upon these thoughts as she awaited the arrival of Lord Lawley, her hands twisting a tiny braid of grass that she had made and formed into a ring of sorts. Niamh slid it upon her finger, looked at it, smirked an amused look onto her face, then took it off and threw it out and back into the woods. Marriage was silly even if love wasn't. She wasn't in love with anyone though. She was pretty sure she was incapable of it for that matter as well. The lady McNamara had seen others with that absolute look upon their face and hungered for it, but she had accepted, when she had tossed that grass ring into the woods, that she wasn't going to get it.

Well, she could use the other fools that could love to her advantage then. At the moment, Lord Darien Lawley and Elane Argyle.

Her note had been simple, elegant in her handwriting, and absolutely specific as where to meet.

Surely the mangy dolt hadn't gotten lost, had he?

Darien had been traveling back to the Keep yet again. It was time to pay his respects to the queen. He would have to be subtle with his intentions, and it would definitely take time.

Albert, as usual, had ridden ahead to announce his coming to the guard. Darien could see Albert coming back quickly on his horse. Albert rode up to him and handed him a piece of parchment.

Darien read the letter with a bit of hesitation. The letter was written by a woman, and to his knowledge there was only one woman in the Keep who would write to him, and if the devil within him was going to do what needed to be done then he could not have any contact with her.

Then, Darien grinned. Niamh McNamara was the author, why did the name sound so familiar to him? He followed the directions carefully and was thankful to delay his trip to the queen.

---------Later-----------------

Darien approached the clearing that Niamh had indicated. He saw the beautiful woman playing with the grass. He couldn't help but notice her putting it around her ring finger. He could definitely feel the devil inside him growing hungry, but Darien pushed it down. Not yet.

Darien dismounted and dismissed Albert to prepare his room in the Keep. Darien approached the young girl with great ease as he let Elliot trot away just a few yards shy where the young lady's horse was.

"Lady McNamara, I presume?" Darien asked giving a slight bow.

"What do I owe the invitation? Have we met before?" Darien wondered briefly if they had indeed met before and possibly had some...unpopular dealings.

At the sight of a horse and it's rider approaching her from across the meadow, Niamh stood and dusted off her riding habit just in case. In her own dealings with others, she found that looking presentable and organized just lended more credence to yourself. She was, in her opinion, doing herself no harm in touching up her dress. Once she had finished that, she smiled softly, bowing her head and, at the same time, moving into a graceful curtsy to show that she acknowledged the fact that, though she had summoned him here, she was of a simple merchant-knight's house and not nearly as "important" as a lord's son. Especially his first one.

When she came out of her curtsy, her eyes met his with fire and hunger. Here was the answer to her need for more support. Here she would find her support for sure. For a truth, the king didn't exactly favor the Lawleys but....one house was better than none when it came to contacts in the court. And one help was better than none. She eyed his clothing, his stance and his face, searching for something that would ease her mind in making the right choice.

There.

She saw it.

Glinting like a fox's eyes out of it's hole. He was hungry too. For Lady Elayne, she thought, and she would use that to her advantage for sure. "You presume correctly, my lord," she offered up, her tone sweet though with a hint of steel in it, "And no, we haven't. I daresay that I've seen you though. At the wedding of the king to be precise. You were crying. I didn't know men could be touched by such ceremonies." There was a hint of admiration in her tone and whether it was false or true had yet to be seen. "But I noticed also that you seemed oh so keenly aware of Lady Elayne...Do you...fancy her, my lord?"

Her eyes glinted with her ambition's fire. She was ready to launch into her introduction of her idea, her bargain. "It's a shame she has such great affection for the king," she added, looking quite sorry indeed that such a thing had occurred. In all honesty, Niamh held no love for Elayne. She thought her a girl who was using her one asset and using it all too soon. Why not play hard to get and milk the cow for all it was worth rather than spending your currency then and there? Elayne, in her opinion, could get so much more if she withheld her gifts rather than gave them outright as she had. Then again, Niamh was not one that was fond of giving up her body anyway.

Despite her ambitions, she still had the idea that, one day, she would meet a man who was her equal and, in him, she would find that strange feeling called love. She sometimes doubted it existed but she was sixteen and not prey yet to denying what was so obvious before her eyes. "But we could change that," she said, adding the bait and line, "For you see, I could help you get Elayne, my lord, if you are so incline. And for a small fee. You see, all I want is your support in a certain...endeavor of mine....A small one, to be sure, but still rather important to me." She glanced up at him through her dark lashes, her black eyes seemingly lit by an inner fire rather than their own color. To be sure, black was a strange color for eyes but it suited her perfectly in this case. It lended her a darker, richer, fuller air than it would some light haired, blue eyed docile girl from Heaton.

And she'd use that too.

"You'd get what you'd want..." she murmured, "and I'd get what I'd want. Simple as that. What say you, my lord?" She looked up completely now, her eyes meeting his full force.

Darien eyed the girl cautiously. She was observant, and not as naive as her age made her out to be. Darien knew this woman would not be his "type" to ruin, but it would prove interesting to say the least.

When he spoke of the circumstance at the Wedding of the King, his eyes narrowed on her. He waited until she was done speaking before coming close to her, to look into those black eyes.

"You speak a little too freely, my lady. If one did not know better, one might think your ambitions were treacherously high. I would hate to see such a," Darien traced his finger along her neck carefully, "this lovely neck hanging from a noose."

Darien stepped behind her as he looked around the clearing. The huntress seemed earnest to help him, but more earnest still to have his loyalty. That was one thing Darien did not give lightly.

"As for your assistance, I'm afraid you have gathered the wrong impression of me. Lady Elayne Argyle is indeed a worthy prize, one that I would do much to have. But I prefer to focus on the prize's current owner," Darien said, looking at the young woman. Wondering if she would catch the clue in his voice.

The finger on her neck caused her to shudder, more like because she could actually feel a blade caress her skin at that point, severing her clever head from her body. She had heard of other nobility, in Scalia and other countries, who had been beheaded for treason. While she thought herself impervious to it (it was about that time that, since she was a teenager, she thought herself immortal), she was well aware that it was a possibility in her lifetime to be threatened with the axe or the noose. She personally preferred the axe.

It was quicker, after all.

In anycase, her eyes did not leave his, even when he stroked a finger down her neck. "Watch your finger, my lord," she murmured, "And I'll watch my tongue. Otherwise, we might both find ourselves losing limbs." She looked up at him through her dark lashes, her slight smile returning. "So, you want to get back at the king then? Pretty, pretty plan, my lord, and what can I help you with? If you want me to bed him and ruin his life from that angle, you have another thing coming." She flicked her gaze down her body, one hand settling on her hip. "After all, this is not for sale, you'll find."

"But," she added, as if considering it even though she'd already, privately, accepted, "if you have something else in mind...I'm sure I can arrange something." Her eyes were hungry, hungry for the ambition that she could taste so bittersweet on her tongue. Her body was nearly shivering from the fact that she could feel herself so close to something that would bring her ever closer, ever closer to her goal.

If the king had to suffer, well, she was more in favor with his younger brother anyway. She could work off of Fergus who was, quite frankly, a drunkard and easier to handle. Aedan just seemed to have the problems of pride and lust. And lust, as she was finding, could damage a man's reputation abroad even as it was damaging Aedan's to those who were devout Catholics.

After all, he'd just married. Surely he couldn't tire of his wife's bed too soon, right? Well, now that she thought about it, Hanna wasn't exactly beautiful anyway. But then, neither was Niamh. The difference was that Niamh was a survivor and full of fire. Hanna seemed, well, submissive for she submitted to her fate easily enough and, if she had heard the rumors of the king sleeping with another woman, she didn't mind her husband having lust for some other woman as well.

Niamh, to be honest, would never be able to stand it.

Darien grinned as he took his finger from Lady Niamh's neck. The woman had fire in her, one that was similar to that of his sister, except for the fact that his sister had those pesky morals.

Darien simply grinned at the young woman. "I have to admire your spirit, but I'm not quite sure you are ready for this sort of thing. I'll admit your spirit just might be enough for you to succeed, but you are going to have to prove yourself for me in order for me to grant you my loyalty and support. Besides, if our ambitions conflict, you surely can't expect me to fulfill my end of the bargain?" Darien said with a gentle smile.

Darien wanted to see the fire that was hiding in her eyes. Darien wanted to see if she truly was worth the effort. If she was, then there were definite uses for her. If not, well, a scape goat was always a distinct possibility.

"A tempting offer, my dear. But I believe that your ambition may be somewhat high for a mere child," Darien turned away slowly with a slight smirk on his face. He waited for her to stop him.

His words stung in the way that something that one person knows to be false and yet is told is their nature is stung. She blinked at him, fighting down her anger as he gave her insult after insult. After daring to touch her person....After daring to touch her person, he gave her nothing but a slap in the face for her efforts! By God! She could run to the king now and tell him that Darien Lawley was attempting to pull her into a conspiracy against him.

Only her pride and an epiphany stopped her feet.

Why was he letting her know this and then letting her go so easily? There was really only one explanation and that was that he was testing her. As surely as the sun rose in the east, Darien Lawley was testing her mettle, seeing if she was really up to the task of committing treason for her ambition. This, she knew, was what separated the dreamers from the strong.

And she was strong. She would prove it.

As he started to walk away, she forced herself to stand straight and tall (or as tall as a five foot woman could stand) and said coldly, "I'm not a mere child, my lord. My ambitions are not dreams. They are ambitions and I will reach them with your help or not." Her dark eyes, those infamous dark eyes that had men writing poetry about her back at the Keep already, were fixed on the back of his head as if she could shoot arrows from her pupils. The fire in her soul had reached her eyes and now blazed forth. "You want to commit treason, yes? Then if it gets me what I want...I'll help you. I'll plan the whole thing if necessary. I want my title and I want my land. I won't have someone calling me a mere child stop me from it. Besides, I daresay my way of doing things is far more reaching than a simple strike against the monarchy. Could a mere child decide to build up a support base? Make the courtiers and the lordlings support her? Could a mere child make a prince be charmed or make an heir to a fiefdom befriend her? A mere child would not have called you out here with a bargain, my lord, and you know it." Her eyes narrowed, "Or are you a coward? Calling off your plans, it seems to me. So able to walk away, is that it? You ask me about my mettle, well, what of yours? You say I'm unable but now you're walking away from a potential ally in this act of defiance that you have planned. "

Her mouth twisted into a mocking smile, all while her face shone bare of anything but her dark ambitions. "Go on, walk away, Darien Lawley, and you'll struggle to do this all by yourself and never actually achieve it. After all, there are some things a woman can do, somethings a man can do, and others that they must do together and you'll find, soon enough, that you're missing half of the equation and that no other woman is going to take up your offer."

Her smile faded as her voice grew inexplicably cold, "No other woman but me."

Darien smiled as his back was turned from her. At last, an ally worthy of him.

Darien turned quickly around and looked Lady McNamara dead in the eye, facing the fiery arrows that flew from her eyes with no fear of being burned. Darien smirked a bit as he recalled Katherine Lawley's eyes when she was angry. Now that was truly something to behold, as long as you were not the subject of her wrath.

Darien approached Lady McNamara slowly, taking her hand in his and kissing it softly. "My dear, forgive my cantor. I feel that I am at a disadvantage with words as of late. I assure you, I mean no disrespect, though I may have meant some before. We both need to stop dreaming. Talk to me again soon," Darien said with a slight wink.

Darien could only imagine what Lady McNamara would be thinking, and hopefully the two of them could speak again. But at that moment, Darien could not continue the conversation. For one reason, he had to meet up with his armies outside the garrisons. But more importantly, Darien had noticed the black eyes of his keeper watching from one of the nearby trees. Albert could be trusted with just about anything, but not with this.

Darien reached Elliot and turned back to the woman. He gave a gentle bow and climbed upon his horse and rode toward the keep, keeping a slow pace to wait for Albert to catch up.

Had Niamh not been raised with the idea that once she was in court her hands would be kissed as if she were that cursed Virgin Mary, she would have winced with disgust at such an action of touch. If there was one thing Niamh dispised, it was being touched without her permission. Already Darien Lawley had touched her neck, reminding her all too well of the touch of steel on her throat if she was caught. Now he kissed her hand and reminded her of the glory that could be retained if she wasn't.

So tempting and for all her young years, she felt a trill of excitement at the idea of risking her life and reptuation for the land she wanted so badly. God, she could taste it in the back of her throat, so far back that nothing could quench her itch for it. Neither food nor drink nor word nor silence could make her crave it less. She needed it like oxygen and she would have it.

Even if it meant treason.

Her eyes watched him with assessment in their depths. It was the look a fox gives a rabbit before it gives chase, the look of a lion before it rose from the depths of the savannah to catch it's prey. If Darien Lawley thought he was going to come out on this on top, he would be surprised when she emerged the victor. Whether or not that victory involved her fleeing to the natives or suddenly becoming noble in her own right was something that had yet to be seen.

A slow, sensual smile flooded her mouth, something that never happened to date and was a personal first for Niamh. But then, lately, ambition had brought out a more predatory, wild, and sensual side of her that she had never seen happening. Marriage type she wasn't but in the political arena...she could become a hellcat.

"See that your disadvantage doesn't hamstring you, my lord," she murmured as her eyes met his over her hand, "Otherwise, you'll find your disadvantage may be used against you. Repeatedly." Her smile cooled to a neutral expression as she saw his eyes go around and around the clearing. Was there someone watching them? Was this a trap to prove her loyalty to the king?

But Darien Lawley had no loyalty to the king, that was for certain. She had seen that spark in his eye and she only recognized it because she saw it in her own so often. Niamh and Darien were siblings in spirit for in spirit, they were loyal only to themselves and no one else. Perhaps that provided them both a lonely, empty road ahead of them but Niamh was sure that her title and land would fill that empty road so easily that she would never notice how lonely she was.

"But in either case, I shall seek you out later, my lord. Perhaps we can repeat this meeting...but get along a bit further in our...endeavors," she said, purring it the way she had seen her mother do when Lady Maeve was desperate to get her husband to show some affection towards her. Let whoever was potentially watching think this was a lover's rendez-vous. Niamh would work that to her advantage as well. After all, some of her male friends who were more than interested in her social status would become jealous and pledge their loyalty if she began swaying towards another.

It was amazing she didn't think of it before.

Ten minutes after Darien Lawley left, Niamh reharnessed Siobhan, mounted using a rock, and left using a different route. No one would know they had met there in the clearing.

No one but the two of them.