She meant it, even if the words seemed to stick in her throat.
“It’s a good match,” he said matter-of-factly. “She is the widow of a minor baron who holds a castle near Peebles.”
A castle? The widow of a baron? Itwasa good match—a very good match. She should be proud of him for making such a beneficial alliance. Which didn’t explain why a strange sinking feeling had settled low in her stomach.
She forced a smile to her face and hoped it didn’t look as tremulous as it felt. “I’m happy for you. You deserve the best, Thommy—Thom,” she quickly corrected.
Their eyes held for one long heartbeat before he looked away. “Aye, well, it will make knighthood an easier reach.”
She smiled. He was the most noble, honorable man she knew. He’d always had a keen sense of right and wrong. He’d been a knight to her for a long time, but she didn’t think he’d appreciate hearing any more childhood memories from her. He was getting on with his life just as he’d said.
She just hadn’t realized...
Married.
Wasn’t she hoping to do the same? Had she forgotten about Randolph?
She was ashamed to say she had.
She took a deep breath, forcing air through her dry lungs. Maybe they both had moved on. “You were right, I shouldn’t have come.”
Thom wasn’t the boy from the village anymore. He wasn’t her childhood companion and confidant. He hadn’t been for a long time. He was a soldier. A man she didn’t even know anymore.
His face was taut, his expression grim. He seemed pained when he spoke, as if he were waging some kind of fierce internal battle. “Jamie will bring your brother home safely, Elizabeth. He’s a good climber.”
It was true. After the near disaster in the tree all those years ago, Jamie had been determined to become just as good a climber as Thom. He’d pushed past the fear that she wasn’t supposed to know about—she’d figured out what had stopped him that day a few years later—and become very good. But no one was as good as Thom. She’d seen him scale sheer rock faces that would make a spider hesitate.
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 aprincessin 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’thaveto 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 hecoulddo 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. Shehadtaken him for granted and assumed he would always be there for her. She could acknowledge that.
