The Rock (15 page)

Nonetheless, she forced a wide smile on her face. He was right, this wasn’t his battle. “I’m sure you are right.”

They stared at one another in the semi-darkness, neither knowing what to say, but both understanding that it was goodbye.

She wished, she wanted . . .

She took a deep breath and broke the silence. “Goodbye, Thom.”

“Goodbye, Elizabeth.”

With one last look to hold on to, she opened the door and left.

Elizabeth scanned the horizon, willing a group of riders to appear. The vantage from the East Tower chamber of the castle afforded a broad view of Roxburgh and the stark, gently undulating countryside beyond. There were hundreds of people bustling along the narrow wynds and roads of the important burgh, but none were the men she sought.

God in heaven, how much more of this must she endure? It seemed all she did of late was stare anxiously out of tower windows, waiting.

She sighed with frustration. Two days! James and Bruce’s famed Guard been gone two long days, and not one word. Had it taken them longer to reach the castle than they expected? Or had something gone wrong?

Not knowing was agony. With nothing to do but wait, she felt like a lion in a cage.

Or a
princess
in a tower.

Her heart squeezed as it had every time she thought of Thom since their parting two nights ago—which was often. His accusations had stung. She’d never realized what it had been like for him. Never glimpsed the resentment and bitterness that must have been lurking underneath the stoic facade, and she’d been digging through her memories to see whether there was something she could point to—something she might have done to cause it.

But she’d come to realize that maybe it wasn’t any specific occurrence that had fueled his resentment; it was simply a natural function of the separation between them in rank. It was something that had never mattered to her because she didn’t
have
to think about it. Thom, on the other hand, didn’t have that luxury. He would have always been aware of the differences in rank between them, and precisely what that meant. The laird’s daughter and the smith’s son; the laird’s heir and the smith’s son—there was no question of who took precedence and who had authority.

They weren’t equals. Even if she had never thought of it that way, she’d always implicitly understood it, and perhaps their relationship had been forged on that uneven foundation—just as Thom’s had with Jamie. Her brother didn’t have to toss his authority around or force Thom to take a knee before him; the fact that he
could
do so would be difficult enough to swallow for a man like Thom. A strong, proud man whose natural authority made him a leader in his own right. The village boys had always looked up to him as their leader unless Jamie was around. Then it was her brother to whom they deferred.

For the first time she wondered what their relationships would have been like had they been born of similar rank. Her perception shifted. It was no longer clear that Jamie would have been in charge, just as it was no longer clear that she would have never thought of Thom as a potential suitor. She suspected she would have thought of things quite differently. It was a disconcerting realization.

That there was undoubtedly some truth to Thom’s accusations made her feel horrible. She
had
taken him for granted and assumed he would always be there for her. She could acknowledge that.

But he was wrong about the rest. She’d never thought of him as a servant who must jump to do her bidding, and she hated that he could think that of her. But as important as it was to her for him to know that, she also knew that the only way to prove it to him was to heed his request and leave him be.

She had her own plans for the future to think about, didn’t she?

She had to let him go.

But her chest squeezed as she glanced out the window. This time her eyes scanned the yard below. Had he gone to his widow yet?

She hadn’t seen him since the midday meal yesterday, but she hadn’t been able to find the courage to ask Edward Bruce about him at today’s. She feared the answer.

A soft rap on the door drew her gaze from the window. Expecting her maidservant, she was surprised by the woman who entered.

Immediately, her heart jumped. “Have you heard something?”

Lady Helen gave her a wry smile and shook her head. “Not yet.” Shifting the wiggly bundle in her arms, she added, “Willie and I thought you might be in need of some company.” Her gaze shifted meaningfully to the window Elizabeth stood before. “I’ve spent many hours staring out of windows.”

Elizabeth could only imagine. What must it be like to be married to one of Bruce’s Phantoms? To the men who were called upon for the most difficult, dangerous missions? She shuddered. “How do you manage?”

The pretty healer smiled while struggling to keep hold of the wee laddie who, in addition to wiggling, had started verbalizing his displeasure at being held. “This stubborn little ox for one. I also have my work, which keeps me busier than I’d like.”

Elizabeth understood. Helen tended to the men who were injured on the battlefield. Crossing the chamber, she held her arms out and smiled. “He’s adorable. May I?”

Helen looked relieved. “Do you mind? My arms feel like they are about to fall off. He’s already so heavy, and he doesn’t like much being held right now.”

“He wants to crawl?”

Lady Helen nodded. “Aye, and he doesn’t like being told no. I’m afraid he’s as muleheaded as his father.” She grinned, noticing how Elizabeth’s arms sagged with the weight. “And built as solid as his father as well. I must admit I’m looking forward to him walking.”

“But be careful what you wish for,” Elizabeth said with a laugh, bounding the adorable fair-haired child in her arms. “I remember how it was when Hugh started to walk. It seemed we were forever chasing him to prevent some sort of disaster.”

The little boy seemed to like her bouncing and gurgled with laughter, revealing a handful of pearly white teeth. He was a cute little devil with a cherubic round face, big green eyes, long lashes, feathery soft blond hair, and sturdy little limbs.

“He likes you,” Lady Helen said with a smile. “He seems to have a fondness for pretty lasses already.”

Elizabeth grinned and laughed as he started to play with one of her plaits. “How old is he? Ten months?”

Lady Helen’s brows lifted. “Yes, next week. I’m impressed. You’d think with all I know about healing I’d be better at this. But Willie has a knack for revealing just how ignorant I am. I never seem to know what to do with him. I can’t believe I actually thought this would be easy.”

Hearing the very motherly frustration in her voice, Elizabeth had to smile. She remembered Joanna’s similar travails during Uilleam’s first year. Her nephew would be two in June. “He is your first?”

Helen nodded. “I’ve heard from some of the other wives that it gets easier. Since a few of them have more than one child, I guess I’ll have to believe them.”

It must have for Jo, Elizabeth thought with a smile, if the recent greenish hue to her skin in the morning meant anything.

Elizabeth suspected she was referring to the other wives of Bruce’s secret Guard. “Your husband doesn’t mind you and the baby being here?”

Lady Helen’s mouth twisted. “I wouldn’t say that. I think he’d rather Willie and I were at Varrich Castle in the far north of his lands in Sutherland, but he knows I may be needed, so we try to find a balance. Willie and I stay far away from danger, but as soon as Magnus deems it safe we are with him. With the victories the king has been having of late, I hope it won’t be long until most of Scotland is safe.” She glanced down in horror at Elizabeth’s wrist. “Willie, no!”

The little boy had moved on from trying to poke his chubby fingers through Elizabeth’s plait to gnawing on her bracelet.

“It’s all right,” she said with a laugh. “He isn’t doing any harm.”

“Are you sure?” Lady Helen said, watching uncertainly. “It’s very beautiful.” She peered closer at the thin, etched piece of metal. “And unusual. I noticed you holding it when I walked into the room. It must be special to you.”

Elizabeth must have been twisting it again. Joanna had pointed out more than once—as if she should signify something by it—that she did so often when she was anxious or nervous about something.

“It is,” Elizabeth answered. Thommy had given it to her for her saint’s day right before she’d been forced to leave for France at the start of Bruce’s war. She rarely removed it.

The small cuff was simply designed, consisting of two half-circles of brass (likely remnants from making the quillons from a sword) hinged on one side and secured by two clasps on the other. The workmanship was exquisite. It was etched with ancient symbols, such as those that were on the old cross at St. Mary’s in Douglas said to have been from the time Christianity was first introduced by the Irish missionaries St. Finian and St. Columba. Thommy was so talented, which is why she’d never understood why he wanted to be a knight. Although perhaps she had a better idea now.

“May I see it?” Helen asked.

“Of course,” she replied, trying to wrestle it from the baby’s gummy grasp. When he started to argue the way that babies do, she distracted him from whining by putting him down on the ground. He took off exploring right away. The room was sparsely furnished—so not much for him to get into—but she kept a close eye on the fireplace.

With one eye on her son, Helen marveled at the design.

“I read once about the Romans giving armbands to their soldiers for military distinctions,” Elizabeth said. “It has always reminded me of that.”

Something in Helen’s gaze sparked. “It does! I’ve heard of those as well. Armilla, I believe they were called. Hmm . . .”

Elizabeth would have followed up on that hmm, but Helen handed the bracelet back to her at the same time as she darted forward to cut off Willie’s path to—of course—the fireplace.

“What is it about babies that makes them see danger and head right for it?” Elizabeth said with a shake of the head while Lady Helen gently admonished her son.

“I don’t know,” Lady Helen answered. “But not all of them outgrow it. My husband, for one.”

Lady Elizabeth laughed, but she sobered when Helen turned from the window where she’d moved over to point out things to distract Willie.

“What is it?” she asked.

The healer’s relief was visible. Until that moment, Elizabeth hadn’t realized how anxious she was. “They’re back.”

T
HOM HANDED
S
IR
David Lindsay the sword. The important knight, and one of Bruce’s closest companions, held it out in front of him to examine. He turned it over in his hand, sliced through the air a few times, and looked at every angle of the handle as if he were searching for something, while making short exclamations along the way.

“Bloody hell, MacGowan, how did you do this so quickly? It feels like an entirely new sword. The balance is incredible, and the handle feels as if it was made for my hand.”

Thom shrugged. “If I’d had a pair of fullers I could have fixed the blood groove. It could use a little more taken out near the tip to lighten it. But the English armorer wasn’t thoughtful enough to leave all his tools behind.”

The castle forge appeared to have been hastily abandoned after Douglas had taken Roxburgh. Thom had decided to make use of it when he wasn’t attending to his duties for Carrick. God knew, he wasn’t sleeping; he might as well make some extra coin in those wakeful hours.

He had nothing to feel guilty about. But damn it, seeing Elizabeth’s pale, anxious face from across the Hall or courtyard the past couple of days had eaten away at his resolve. Indeed, he’d skipped the midday meal today as much to finish the sword as to avoid seeing her.

Not that it helped. He could still see those big doe eyes right in front of him as she’d looked up at him and pleaded with him to help her.

The pull to go to her aid was so strong it physically hurt not to do so. His chest had been aching for two days.

He cursed inwardly and turned his attention back to Lindsay, who paid him the coin they’d agreed upon and thanked him. “I could send a few more men your way, if you think you’ll have time. I know many of us have had a difficult time finding a good smith with as much time as we spend sleeping on heather.” Thom stiffened. Not noticing, Lindsay laughed. “It seems of late that the only time we are in a castle, it is to destroy it.”