The Rock (8 page)

“Watching for someone, Ella?”

Elizabeth startled and turned in the direction of the speaker, her cousin Lady Isabel Stewart, daughter of the hero John Stewart of Bonkyl, who’d died fighting with Wallace at Falkirk, and cousin to the current Steward of Scotland—the 6th—Walter. The 4th Steward had been both girls’ grandfather.

Isabel grinned and continued. “Trying to conjure up Sir Thomas out of all that mist? It’s a long way to see to Edinburgh.”

Elizabeth smiled. “I shall see him soon enough, Izzie.”

Although Isabel was easily placated, the other occupant in the room was not. Joanna had known Elizabeth for too long. They weren’t just childhood friends anymore. Joanna had become her sister-in-law two and a half years ago when she and Jamie had finally married. They’d gone through a difficult time after Joanna’s accident. Elizabeth wasn’t privy to all the details, but she knew Jamie had done something horrible, which Joanna had eventually forgiven him for. Fortunately, almost losing one another had seemed to make their love stronger. They’d been lucky.

Her sister by marriage gave her a very knowing look. “I hear from James that with Randolph laying siege to Edinburgh, Edward Bruce will begin the siege of Stirling Castle soon.”

Elizabeth held her expression impassive, although she knew it well. “That is very interesting, but is of no import to me.”

Joanna quirked her brow. “Isn’t it? Hmm.”

Elizabeth didn’t like that “hmm.” Whatever Joanna thought she knew, she was wrong. If Elizabeth spent too much time looking out of windows, it was because she was bored out of her mind and anxious. Not because she was looking—or waiting—for anyone, especially Thommy.

She was curious as to what had happened to him, that was all. Other than hearing that he was fighting with Edward Bruce, Elizabeth had heard nothing from her former friend in three years.

“Is it your argument with Archie that is bothering you?” Isabel asked.

Elizabeth was about to protest that nothing was bothering her, but as they seemed disinclined to believe her, she shrugged. “A little,” she admitted. “It’s hard with both Lady Eleanor and Jamie away. He doesn’t listen to me.”

“Nor to me,” Joanna said with a wry smile. “But I think it is a function of being sixteen and a Douglas male who thinks he knows everything. I remember that time well.”

So did Elizabeth. Her heart squeezed, admitting only to herself how much she missed it. It was before everything had become so
complicated
. Why did Thommy have to go and ruin everything by trying to change things? It had been perfect the way it was.

She’d treasured the bond between them, and the deep, abiding friendship that had weathered war, distance, and time. He’d been her companion, her confidant, her anchor in a maelstrom. He was her one constant, and along with Joanna, the best part of coming home. Thommy
was
home to her. Douglas hadn’t been the same after he left.

She’d thought he would always be there. Whether it was rescuing her from a tree when she was six (and saving her from countless bruises, skinned knees, and twisted ankles afterward), providing a shoulder to cry upon after the death of her father at eight, or listening to her teenage tirades against her stepmother after one of their many arguments, he always seemed to know exactly what to say—or not say—to make it better. Even after the worst period of her life, when King Edward had stripped her family of everything after the death of her father, and they’d been forced to beg for a place to stay with relatives—eventually finding it with Isabel’s family—Thommy was the only one she’d been able to confide in about the fear and shame that even now she couldn’t quite forget.

Which was why Thommy’s confession had come as such a shock. If anyone knew how important a good marriage was for her, it was he.

He was her dearest friend. At least she thought he had been. It still infuriated her to think about the way he’d last spoken to her. How dare he be mad at her when he was the one who’d tried to change the rules all on his own! She’d never thought of him like
that
and had no idea his feelings toward her had changed. She’d just turned sixteen when she’d last seen him, for goodness’ sake. Hardly a time of great perceptiveness in life.

Admittedly, she hadn’t been all that much more perceptive at twenty, and her reaction to his declaration could have been more tactful. Thommy was so infuriatingly
proud
, and she knew how touchy he could be about any reference to his father’s position in their household. But she’d been stunned by his admission, and the words had popped out unthinkingly.

But what had he expected her to say? What he’d proposed was impossible on every level. She had a duty to marry to increase the power and prestige of her clan.

She’d never thought of Thommy before in terms of rank, but he’d forced her to acknowledge the vast difference between them. Daughters of important nobles did not marry sons of smiths. Not in Scotland—nor in any part of Christendom, for that matter. Only peasants thought of things like “want” and “love”—although thankfully she’d refrained from blurting
that
out. She could only imagine how he would have reacted to that less-than-sensitive observation. Love was desired in noble marriages, of course, but it was expected to grow, not be the basis of it.

She pursed her mouth. It still grated on her how coldly he’d treated her, and how easily he’d walked away and never looked back. So much for friendship and love.

Still, she hated how it had ended between them. Something about it felt unfinished—incomplete. Maybe that explained the strange restlessness that she just couldn’t seem to shake. She wanted to see him—just to make sure he was all right, of course. She couldn’t bear the idea of him hating her.

Pushing aside thoughts of her former friend, she returned to the subject at hand. “You mean Douglas pigheadedness changes after sixteen? You might tell my brother. Jamie still seems to think he knows everything.” She shook her head. “I admit, I understand Archie’s frustration. Were it me, I would be chomping at the bit to get out of here, too.”

Archie wanted to join the fight, but Jamie had refused. Not only was he too young, it was too dangerous. The English would love nothing better than to get ahold of the brother—half or not—of the “Black Douglas.” But Jamie’s promise of “soon” was wearing thin to their sixteen-but-old-enough-to-fight brother, and Joanna and Elizabeth had been left with the difficult task of enforcing Jamie’s orders. Last night she and Archie had argued about it.

“You mean you aren’t?” Joanna said with a laugh. “I don’t think Archie is the only one who wished he could take a horse and ride to Roxburgh—or Edinburgh.”

Elizabeth tried to bite back a smile but failed. Joanna was right. “I do wish Jamie would finish up whatever he is doing at Roxburgh,” Elizabeth said. “I’m not getting any younger. I’ll be four and twenty next month. Now that Jamie has finally found someone who meets his requirements, I want to get on with the wedding.”

“Maybe he can just take the castle for you?” Joanna said dryly. “That will get you to Edinburgh quickly.”

Both women looked at each other and burst out laughing. Jamie’s reputation for taking castles by subterfuge was becoming legend, but Roxburgh was one of the most heavily defended castles in the Borders.

“Well, it might have taken cousin James awhile to find you a husband, but he did find one of the most important men in the kingdom,” Isabel pointed out. “Not to mention a newly created earl. I should hope cousin Walter does half as well for me.”

As Jamie held Elizabeth’s wardship and marriage rights, the young Steward of Scotland held Isabel’s.

Elizabeth flushed with pleasure, not bothering to hide her excitement among her friends. Jamie
had
done well for her—extremely well. “I can’t believe I will be the Countess of Moray,” she said in a low voice, as if saying it too loud might jeopardize it.

Jamie had proposed a betrothal with Robert the Bruce’s nephew, and Jamie’s close friend and rival, Sir Thomas Randolph. The Douglases were also related to Bruce—through their great-grandfather the 3rd Steward of Scotland—but Randolph was the son of Bruce’s mother’s half sister.

“There is so much to do, I cannot wait to get started,” Elizabeth continued. “It’s been too long since we’ve had the excitement of a celebration to plan for, and since Jamie thinks the king will insist on holding the wedding feast at one of his castles, it will likely be the biggest since he became king. Music, dancing, the best wine and food . . . It will be like being in Paris again. I’ll have a beautiful new dress made—I know just what I want—and matching slippers, and—”

“A husband,” Joanna interjected. “Don’t forget that after this fantastic wedding and beautiful dress you’ll have a husband.”

Elizabeth shot her a chastising frown, refusing to let her sister-in-law dampen her excitement about the prospect of a wedding.

Although nothing had been settled yet, the trip to Edinburgh was a mere formality. She had met Sir Thomas a few times, and there was no reason to think they would not suit. He was handsome and charming enough to make any young woman’s heart race. She scrunched her nose. Hers hadn’t as yet, but she was sure it would once they got to know one another better. More important, as the favored nephew of the king and an earl, he had enough lands to ensure her security for the rest of her life. Neither she nor her future children would ever have to rely on the charity of relatives again.

Aside from the Bruces, there might not be a more important man in the country than Thomas Randolph. Although Jamie might disagree about that. “I would be hard-pressed to find anything to object to in Sir Thomas,” Elizabeth pointed out.

“Aye, he’s a handsome rogue,” Joanna agreed. “As well he knows. Women certainly seem to love him, but do you?”

Elizabeth gave her an odd look, taken aback. “What does that matter?”

It was Jamie’s decision whom she married. Though he would never force her, Elizabeth knew her duty.

“It matters a great deal,” Joanna said quietly. “I know James is excited about the prospect of this alliance, but don’t let him push you into anything. He will want you to be happy—even if you need to remind him of it.”

Elizabeth smiled with understanding. Jamie and Jo were so happy now, sometimes she forgot that it hadn’t always been so easy for them. Jamie had married “beneath” him “for love,” but it hadn’t been without some struggle on her ambitious brother’s part.

For a man in James’s position, marriage was a duty, and marrying for love opened him to public censure. It offended not just the social order but was viewed as giving in to lust rather than honor. Elizabeth blushed. Who would have thought her fierce, strong brother would neglect his duty for base desires?

Although Jamie had weathered the scandal well, he could afford to do so with the king’s rewards, and Elizabeth knew her duty. Unlike her brother, she did not have the ability to fight her way to greatness with a sword. Her only path to a secure future was through marriage.

Of course she didn’t begrudge her brother his happiness—and she loved Jo like a sister—but that path was not for her. “What you and Jamie have is rare, Jo. It’s not like that for most women in our position. Nor is it something that has ever been important to me. I’m not romantic like you are. But don’t worry, I’m sure I will come to love the earl well enough. What’s not to love?”

Joanna looked at her as if she wanted to argue, but decided not to press. Instead one corner of her mouth lifted. “Plenty, if you listen to James. Although until you are safely wed, I expect he’ll be singing his praises.”

Elizabeth laughed, having heard more than one of her fearsome brother’s tirades against the “pompous” knight, when Randolph had bested him at something. The men were fierce rivals, always trying to one better each other in feats of battle, but surprisingly also were good friends.

“I can’t wait to meet this paragon,” Isabel said. “If half the things I’ve heard about him are true, he must be an impressive man.”

Izzie would get her wish sooner than they anticipated. As if on cue, the sound of hoofbeats below signaled the arrival of a rider.

A few minutes later, Joanna was holding a message from Jamie in her hands. Her eyes bulged as she started to read it, and she muttered something like “God in heaven!” Elizabeth was concerned until her sister-in-law started to laugh.

“What is it?” she asked.

There were tears of joy and pride in Joanna’s eyes as she handed the parchment to her. “Read for yourself, but your future husband isn’t going to be very happy when he hears about this.”

Elizabeth read it in stunned disbelief. Near the end she let out a cry that mirrored Joanna’s and threw her arms around her in celebration. Jo was right. Randolph wasn’t going to be happy. He was almost two months into his siege on Edinburgh Castle, and James had just taken Roxburgh Castle in one night.

They laughed until tears ran down their cheeks. The miraculous feat that they’d jested about moments before had come true. Jamie had done the impossible once again. In a move that no one—including the Bruce—was expecting, he’d seen an opportunity and had taken the castle by subterfuge the night before during the Shrove Tuesday celebrations.

And almost as wonderful to Elizabeth’s mind, after seeing to the destruction of the castle, her brother would arrive at Blackhouse within a fortnight to escort them to Edinburgh.

Overjoyed, Elizabeth went to share the news with Archie and her youngest brother, Hugh.

She only found one of them.