But the lad was exhausted, and once she’d assured herself that he had eaten as much as he could—his beaten, starved appearance had shocked her—she resisted the urge to follow him to the barracks and watched him walk out of the Hall with Joanna’s brothers.
Tears swelled in her eyes and throat, the tumult of emotion ranging from relief to heartbreak.
Jamie, who had been fixed to Archie’s other side throughout the meal (also, it seems, reluctant to let him out of his sight), put his hand over hers. “He’ll be fine, El.”
She turned to meet her brother’s gaze. “Will he?” she challenged, anger flaring inside her. “I’m not so sure. He is not the same mischievous, overly confident young brother who snuck away from Blackhouse a week ago. He has aged ten years since I saw him last.”
She knew it was unfair to take her anger out on Jamie, but he seemed to understand. “No, he is not,” he admitted. “But he is alive and safe, and we can be grateful for that. The rest will work itself out in time.”
The tears finally slid down her cheeks. “It’s not fair. Whatever he’s gone through...” She had figured out the basics and wasn’t sure she wanted to know the details. “He’s only a boy, Jamie.”
“Aye, and he’s not the only young person who has suffered in this war. But he’s more fortunate than most, so remember that.”
“I’ll try.”
Jamie nodded. “I’m sending him back to Blackhouse with Richard and Thomas tomorrow.”
Elizabeth’s heart jumped. “But I thought he would come to Edinburgh with us.”
With the castle mostly dismantled, James was anxious to return to the king, who was currently at Holyrood with his nephew—her soon-to-be fiancé, Thomas Randolph, the new Earl of Moray.
“He can join us when he has recovered, but Lady Eleanor will be returning from England at the end of the week. She will know what he needs.”
Elizabeth wanted to argue, but she knew Jamie was right. Their formidable stepmother had been through many difficult times in this war with many husbands, including her father when he’d been returned from prison. She would know how to help her son.
Elizabeth nodded and turned her head back to her plate, pushing the small pieces of bread and cheese she’d broken off but hadn’t eaten around the trencher with her finger. She cast a quick glance in Joanna’s direction a few tables away but drew her eyes back sharply. She wasn’t sure what the tight, prickly feeling was in her chest, but she didn’t like it. If she didn’t know better, she would think it was jealousy. Which was ridiculous. Joanna and Thom had been friends since before Elizabeth had met them. They were like siblings. Why should she care that they were talking, laughing, and so clearly happy to see one another?
So what if when Joanna had cried on seeing him and thrown herself into his arms he’d laughed, spun her around, and hugged her tight. So what if every time Elizabeth heard him laugh, she remembered how it used to be, and it felt as if a knife was sinking deeper and deeper into her heart. So what if he hadn’t looked at her—not once—and acted as if she weren’t even there. As if he hadn’t held her in his arms three nights ago, kissed her, and made her feel something she’d never felt before.
Who was she trying to fool? His indifference, especially compared to how he was with Joanna, hurt. It hurt a lot.
She wasn’t the only one casting glances to the other table. Jamie, too, could barely hide his annoyance. But he was too smart to try to do something about it. Those who didn’t know Joanna well only saw the gentle and sweet outside, but her sister-in-law had steel in her spine that was every bit as rigid and unbending as Jamie’s. When it came to Thom, she would defend him as fiercely as she would Uilleam. Jamie knew better than to try to interfere.
“You were right,” Jamie said, catching her last glance. “We wouldn’t have been able to free Archie without him. No one else could have climbed that cliff. I’d forgotten how good he was.”
She suspected Jamie had forgotten quite a bit when it came to his old friend. “We are fortunate he agreed to help. I should thank him.”
Although she was fairly sure the last thing Thom wanted from her was her thanks.“Leave me the hell alone.”
He’d made his wishes quite clear.
“I already thanked him,” Jamie said.
She couldn’t hide her surprise. “You did?”
Jamie shrugged. “It was the least I could do after not giving him any choice in the matter. I already told you that he was ordered to go, and from what Carrick said, he was furious.”
“But I thought—” Her mouth slammed shut, all of a sudden realizing what had happened.
Thom had lied to her. He’d let her think he still had a choice. He’d let her try to convince him, let her bargain her virtue, and let her kiss him, while already knowing that he had been ordered to go.
He’d tricked her. Used her desperation for her brother in some kind of misguided form of vengeance for perceived wrongs at Douglas hands. The irony of course was that she’d done it for him, trying to salvage his pride.
And how easily she’d succumbed. How satisfying it must have been for him.
Her eagle-eyed brother hadn’t missed any of her reaction. “You thought what?”
She didn’t say anything, pressing her lips together tightly.
