Jamie would have put it off for even longer to avoid the taint of scandal after the broken betrothal, but with the English planning to march north in June, he knew the men would be called away at any time. Elizabeth didn’t care about what people said. She would have married Thom the day he’d asked for her, if Jamie would have let her.
Once they were seated, she finally had an opportunity to talk to him. “You are well?” she said, searching for any sign of injury.
“Very well,” he said, sweeping a few strands of hair from her cheek to tuck behind her ear. His thumb lingered long enough to caress her cheek. “But I missed you.”
Her chest squeezed at the loving look in his eyes. It squeezed with something else as well, but thanks to Jamie that would have to wait. He’d made Thom agree that he wouldn’t have cause to walk in on them again before the wedding, and Thom was now honor-bound to keep his word.
Her argument that the horse had already trotted out of the stable was met with extremely chastising frowns from both of them.
The next few weeks were going to be torture.
“I missed you, too. Training was not too difficult?” she asked.
He gave her a wry look that said otherwise. “I survived.” Why did she think he left out a “barely” in there? “But it’s not anything I’m anxious to repeat.”
“The swimming?” She knew he’d been worried about that.
He didn’t bother hiding his grimace. “Let’s just say I got a lot better—quickly—but I will always prefer mountains to the sea.”
Knowing there was only so much he could tell her, she didn’t question him any further, but promise or not, she intended to do a very thorough inspection of him later.
She hadn’t realized she’d been watching the door until Thom asked, “Are you waiting for someone?”
She shrugged, which only seemed to increase his curiosity.
“I hope I do not have cause to be jealous?” There might have been a certain sharpness to the question behind the lazy tone.
She had to bite the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing and couldn’t resist teasing him. “Well, he isextremelyhandsome and talented and is doing a great favor for me.”
Apparently, he wasn’t in the mood for teasing. It had been too long for both of them. “Ella...” he warned.
“There he is right now.”
Thom’s eyes moved to the door and a moment later, his gaze turned back to hers. “Which one?”
“Both, but in this case I was referring to the younger of the two.”
His father and Johnny had just walked into the room, Johnny carrying the favor. Elizabeth rushed forward to greet them, and a space beside her and Thom on the bench was made for them to sit. If anyone thought it odd that the village smithy and his son were seated at the high table, no one said anything.
“Is it ready?” she asked Johnny.
Thom’s younger brother nodded. “Aye.”
He handed it to her, and she in turn handed it to Thom.
“What is this?” he asked, eyeing the long, linen-wrapped package.
“A gift. Something to show how proud I am of you.”
He took it in his hands. Having made enough of them—including the one that hadn’t left Jamie’s side since he’d been given it (and had inspired all the envy Elizabeth knew it would)—Thom had to know what it was.
He gave her a questioning look and unbound it. Jamie and Jo knew what she’d done, but the others were watching with interest as he drew out the long sword.
It was nearly the match for the one Thom had made Jamie in skill and design. The blade was strong and perfectly balanced and weighted, the handle and grip tight and molded for his hand, and the hilt and scabbard were decorated with enough gold and precious stones to be fit for a king. Indeed, she suspected when the king saw this one, he would be demanding that Thom finish the one he’d promised to make for him after he’d seen Jamie’s.
One day Johnny might even surpass his brother in sword making. But the design and the scene and words etched on the blade—that was all her. Maybe Thom wouldn’t be the only one in the family making swords for kings.
She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Thom speechless before as he took in the picture of the famous castle on the Rock etched on the blade. “You did this?”
