She gasped, and after a stunned moment, finally did what he asked.
When the door slammed behind her, Thom sat down on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands.
3
Blackhouse Tower, Scottish Marches, AshWednesday, February 22, 1314
ELIZABETH GAZED OUTthe tower window, scanning the surrounding countryside. The bitter cold of winter was evidenced by the unbroken swaths of browns and grays painted across the horizon. It seemed there was not one green leaf or colorful wildflower left in the heavily forested hillsides of Galloway. The only wail was of the wind; the distinctive call of the peewits would not be heard for another few months.
Blackhouse Tower, part of the Douglas patrimony restored to her brother by Robert the Bruce, stood on the edge of a burn in the heart of the Ettrick Forest, the wild, inhospitable land that had served as a favorite base of Scots “rebels” from William Wallace to the Bruce. Beyond lay the rolling hills of Peebles, Selkirk, Jedburgh, Roxburgh, and the other important towns that lined the Scots side of the border.
What she wouldn’t do to be in one of them. God, how she couldn’t wait to leave this bleak, desolate place. The endless gray days, the monotony of seeing the same handful of faces day in, day out, the droning quiet. In the city there was always something new. There was always noise, entertainment, and something to be excited about. Here, in their remote forest fortress, the most exciting thing to happen lately had been the completion of a new tapestry to adorn the wall behind the dais. And she didn’t even like needlework!
But not for much longer. Somewhere out there Jamie and his men were harrying one of the last English garrisons in Scotland at Roxburgh Castle, as part of King Robert’s preemptive war against the English. In late October, Bruce had given notice that in a year’s time, he would forfeit the lands of any nobles who still had not submitted to his authority as king. The threat to the nobles loyal to the English had finally forced Edward to act. The English king had responded with a call to muster at Berwick Castle in June.
Bruce was using the intervening months to prepare for the upcoming war. In addition to raiding and securing tribute from the English unfortunate enough to live near the border, the king’s army was laying siege to the crucial strongholds of Edinburgh and—soon—Stirling, as well as sending out small bands of warriors (such as the one led by her brother) to prevent supplies from getting through to the others still in English possession, such as Roxburgh, Jedburgh, Bothwell, and Dunbar. The Bruce did not have the men or resources to lay siege to them all. When Edward II did march north, Scotland’s castles would not be strongholds for the English.
But Jamie was expected to be called to Edinburgh soon to ready for the coming battle, and when he did, he’d promised to take them with him. After the fierce battles that had started the war, it had largely come to a standstill. With thousands of Bruce’s men occupying the city, there was no fear of attack by the besieged English garrison of a hundred men. At least two of Bruce’s sisters would be there, as would the wives of many of his retinue.
Elizabeth couldn’t wait. Edinburgh wasn’t Paris, but it was certainly a vast improvement over the Ettrick Forest.
She scanned the countryside, almost as if she might see a colorful banner or the flash of silver mail beneath a surcoat in the distance. But it wasn’t the blue and white of Jamie’s arms for which she unconsciously looked. Were Edward Bruce and his men nearby as well?
“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 socomplicated. 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. Thommywashome 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 likethatand 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.
