He made a sound, as they both knew she had not answered his question. “Aye, and yer as dutiful as a woman could be.”
She met his blue gaze instantly. If he knew how disloyal she was, and that she had been questioning her very future, he would not be speaking as he was. “I intend to be dutiful, yes.”
He drained the cup of wine. “And what did ye think, Lady Margaret? Ye finally met the man yer uncle would have ye wed.”
She stood up. “We met for but a moment, under very trying circumstances.”
He held out his cup and Peg filled it. “Some women find him very noble—very gallant—with the blood of two royal houses in his veins.”
Sir Guy was related to both the kings of France and England. “He appears honorable and brave.”
“And if ye thought him injured, would ye cluck over him, as ye have me?”
She started. “Of course I would.”
“Aye, ye would—because it would be yer duty.” He stood up, and he towered over her. “Can ye tend my wounded knights? We must join Bruce soon.”
Margaret had been absorbing how mocking he had been and now she froze. “You are joining Bruce?”
“Bruce needs his best men to seize lands, to defeat his enemies and all who think to stop him. I am one of his best men. I can hardly linger here.”
She felt stunned, aghast. But why had she ever assumed that Alexander would placidly remain at Castle Fyne? A great war raged. Bruce was on the march. He was taking what castles and strongholds that he could, just as Alexander had taken Castle Fyne. He could not seize Scotland’s throne if he did not have the great Scot barons and warlords behind him. He would need a great army to fight King Edward, he would need all of his best commanders—he would need the mighty Wolf.
“When will you leave?” she finally asked.
“When my army is whole. I will leave a hundred of my best archers and knights—enough to fight off anyone, including Sir Guy, or even Buchan.”
“Have you news of either Buchan or Argyll?” Surely, by now, they had learned of the fall of Castle Fyne. Surely, they knew she and William were hostages.
“Buchan is enraged with Bruce, and he plots his vengeance now. As for Argyll, he is aiding one of his cousins against one of my brothers. Both men have probably learned of Castle Fyne’s fall—neither will come to yer rescue anytime soon.”
Margaret felt real despair. “So I am to remain a prisoner here, indefinitely.”
“But ye will be safe.”
Their gazes had met yet again. “I should put a salve on your abrasions.”
He laughed at her. “There is no need, Lady Margaret. If ye please, tend to my knights.”
She hesitated, but as she turned to go, he took her arm, restraining her. “The news I have given ye now distresses ye.”
She trembled, pulling away. “I have been expecting aid from either of my uncles.”
“Come, Margaret, we both ken that is not the news that frightens ye.”
He had the ability to disturb her to no end, she thought. “I hate war. It only brings death.”
He stared at her, and she felt certain he realized that she was frightened—and not just for herself.
“Go,” he said.
* * *
MARGARET KNEW THAT the best course of action was to avoid Alexander. She did not want to keep comparing him and Sir Guy, but every time she heard his voice or glimpsed him, that was exactly what she did. She did not want to have any concern for him, nor did she want to admire him, not in any way. Therefore she refused to even think about the war he was about to join.
But doing so wasn’t easy, not when his injured men were recovering, and the rest of his knights and soldiers were being drilled for battle on a daily basis. She had only to look out of any tower window to know that this terrible war loomed. At Castle Fyne, she might be safely out of its path—for now—but Alexander was about to ride directly into the maelstrom.
One aspect of her captivity had changed. Each day she was allowed an hour’s visit with William. Alexander had not told her why he had changed his mind, but she knew it was due to the affections evolving between them.
