Elizabeth couldn’t resist teasing him. “Is that what I am, my lord, a pleasant distraction from the tedium of the siege?”
If he was surprised that she was flirting with him—the first time she’d done so—he hid it quickly. “The siege is undeniably tedious”—it was well known that the Bruce had no love of laying siege to castles, which inevitably involved long periods of waiting and inactivity, and clearly his nephew shared his view—“but you arefarmore than a pleasant distraction.”
The huskiness of his voice and the knowing look in his eyes—his darkbrownish-greeneyes, blast it (as her cousin had pointed out more than once)—should have made her pulse quicken and her skin prickle. Instead it made her regret changing the mood between them. She was comfortable with Randolph as long as they kept it light and friendly. But the first hint of amorousness was making her distinctlyuncomfortable.
Fortunately, she did not sense any real feeling behind his suggestive tone. Actually, it felt a little bit practiced and rote—like this was something he’d done hundreds of times before. With his roguish reputation, she didn’t doubt it.
“There has been no movement, then?” she asked matter-of-factly, clearly departing from any hint of flirtatiousness. “No indication that the English might be getting ready to surrender?”
If he’d noticed her shift in tone, he did not show it and shook his head. “Since Lubaud’s imprisonment there have been no talks at all.” Elizabeth knew that the former Gascon commander of the castle’s earlier negotiations with King Robert had sparked a riot among the garrison inside the castle, leading to his imprisonment by his own men. He’d been replaced by an Englishman. “But they must be getting dangerously low on provisions,” he continued. “We’ve intercepted every shipment and attempt by King Edward to resupply them.”
“And there is no other way to take the castle?”
She thought she saw something flicker in his gaze, but then realized it must have been the candlelight. Even in the middle of the day the abbey’s refectory was dark, and the king had ordered oil lamps and candelabra to illuminate every corner of the otherwise plain and sparsely decorated room.
He shook his head and said dryly, “Not unless your brother can conjure another miracle.” Randolph apparently had taken the news of his rival’s latest feat with remarkable good grace—not that she didn’t think he would give his eyeteeth to better James by taking Edinburgh Castle in some equally dramatic fashion. “The garrison at Roxburgh were caught unaware; unfortunately the same cannot be said about the garrison here. We will not surprise or trick them into opening the gates.”
He sounded so frustrated Elizabeth reached out and put her hand on his arm. “I’m sure you will think of something, my lord.”
He covered her hand with his and smiled at her warmly. “And until then, I shall have you to distract me.”
He really was incredibly handsome, she thought. It was easy to see why the women at court were so besotted with him. Wealth, power, connections, charm, and extraordinary good looks... it was a rare combination.
Although not as physically overpowering as Thom, the earl was still quite tall—at least a couple of inches over six feet—and well muscled. His build was leaner—more tightly honed from years of wielding a sword than the thick, heavy slabs of hard muscle forged from physical labor and swinging a hammer that made Thom so physically overpowering.
She’d never noticed it before, but the two men actually looked quite a bit alike. Both had dark hair, piercing eyes, and classically handsome features. Randolph’s were slightly more refined and arrogant perhaps, but there was something about Thom’s thick, long lashes, the dark shadow that appeared on his jaw within hours of shaving, the hint of a dimple in his left cheek, and the slight bump on the bridge of his nose from a boyhood fight with Jamie that gave him a not-quite-so-polished look that appealed to her.
When Thom turned those smoky blue eyes on her... the shiver of awareness that ran through her awoke other feelings—other sensations that she’d never experienced before. Her nipples hardened, her breasts grew heavy, and warmth tingled between her legs.
His mouth, too, was so perfectly wide and sensual. She couldn’t help but remember how soft and warm it had felt on hers. Randolph’s mouth was nice, but it was hard and perhaps a little cold. It didn’t make her think of hot, passionate kisses...
Dear Lord. She stopped, realizing what she was doing. She’d been staring at Randolph comparing him to Thom, and Randolph had mistaken her interest—particularly when her eyes had dropped to his mouth.
His gaze didn’t actually heat, but she detected a flicker, and perhaps the first real indication that he might be contemplating kissing her.
Cheeks ablaze with mortification, she shifted her gaze decidedlyawayfrom his mouth.
But the heat in her face didn’t last for long. No sooner did she look away from Randolph than her gaze met another. This one was definitely blue.
She drew in her breath in a sharp gasp, and all the heat slid from her face in horror and what felt like guilt, although she’d done nothing wrong.
Thom stood in the doorway with some of the other Phantoms. He’d just arrived, but he’d obviously been there long enough to witness at least some of what had transpired on the dais between her and Randolph.
Good God, he thought...
She wanted to push back from the bench, race across the room, and tell him he was wrong.
She might have. But he didn’t give her a chance. He turned, said something to one of the Guardsmen who stood next to him—it appeared to be Magnus MacKay—spun around on his heel, and left.
Only Randolph’s voice stopped her from going after him. “Do you know MacGowan well, my lady?”
She dropped back down the inch she’d risen off her seat.
He’d obviously caught the direction of her gaze. But there didn’t seem to be any suspicion in his tone, merely interest.
She schooled her features in what she hoped was nonchalance. “Very well. We’ve been friends since childhood.”
It was the truth, but such a small part of what was between them it felt like a lie. “He’s impressed my uncle with what he did to help free your brother. He thinks he might be useful.”
