They both knew she wasn’t apologizing for knocking into him. But the stony look in his eyes left no doubt that her apology was not welcomed. “The fault was mine,” he said blandly. “If you will excuse me. My lady,” he said, acknowledging Lady Helen, and then walked away.
The lash of pain was hard and deep, flaying, tearing, ripping her apart in strips. Never had she felt so helpless. She hadn’t realized how horrible it would be to not have him. And worse, to have him hate her.
In a state of utter devastation, Elizabeth stared at his back as he disappeared into the maze of tents and trees. Her chest burned. Her throat squeezed. She wanted to crawl into a ball and sob. She would have burst into tears had Randolph not walked out after him. “Lady Elizabeth, what a delightful surprise!”
She turned to him with a watery smile. “My lord.”
He frowned, perhaps noticing the shine in her eyes. “Is everything all right?”
She was saved from having to make up an excuse when Lady Helen interceded on her behalf. “I’m afraid I’ve been making Lady Elizabeth laugh a little too hard with my stories of young William’s antics.”
It was the truth—at least it had been until she’d slammed headlong into Thom.
The explanation appeared to satisfy Randolph, although he did give Elizabeth a small frown before taking her hand in his. “Was there something you needed? I’m sorry for not sending word today or last night. We’ve been... busy.”
“Lady Elizabeth has graciously offered to help me tend the men today,” Lady Helen said.
“Ah.” Randolph smiled. “Then it is not me you have come to see. I would be disappointed if it were not such an important cause.”
Elizabeth finally found her voice. “Is something happening with the siege, my lord?”
Though he smiled, Elizabeth sensed an evasiveness in his manner and expression. “Alas, no. The siege is exactly the same.”
She would have questioned him further if Lady Helen had not put a hand on her arm. “We should go,” she said meaningfully. “I’m sure the earl is very busy.”
Randolph seemed grateful for the interruption—making Elizabeth even more certain that he was up to something.
But for the next few hours, Elizabeth didn’t have time to think about Randolph or Thom. She was fully occupied with the steady stream of soldiers who visited the tent. Fortunately, there were no serious injuries. It was a hodgepodge of sore and strained limbs, bruised ribs, a cut that had festered, another that needed stitching, “digestive” problems, and a few fevers only one of which was serious enough for Helen to order him sequestered until it came down. Fever, like the bloody flux, could spread through camp like wildfire. That more men had not come down with sickness in the harsh misery of a winter siege was a blessing.
Elizabeth sensed that something was bothering Helen, but it wasn’t until the end of the day when they were alone in the tent that she finally spoke.
“It is probably not my place to say anything—and if I am overstepping my bounds, I apologize—but I can’t stand by and watch you make the same mistake I did, indeed if that’s what you are doing.”
Elizabeth had no idea what she was talking about. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“That’s because I’m doing a horrible job of this. I’m not usually so interfering.” The lovely redheaded healer took a deep breath. “I couldn’t help but notice how you looked at Thom MacGowan. Not just today, but before at Roxburgh.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened in horror. Oh God, was it that obvious?
Lady Helen put her hand on her arm to comfort her—or maybe to steady her, as she suddenly felt wobbly. “Don’t worry,” she assured her. “I’m sure no one else has noticed. But I guess you could say that I know what to look for. I’ve been where you are right now.”
“But you are married to the man you love.” Elizabeth didn’t realize how revealing her words were until they were out. A blush heated her cheeks.
“Magnus was not my first husband.”
Elizabeth had no idea. “He wasn’t?”
Lady Helen shook her head. “I was married to his best friend for a short while—a few days, actually. William left on a mission the night of our wedding and was killed shortly afterward in an explosion.”
William... like their son?
Helen nodded, hearing the silent question. “Yes, our son is named after him.”
Elizabeth’s heart immediately went out to her. “I’m so sorry.”
“He was a wonderful man, and his passing was a great loss to all who knew him—Magnus and my brother suffered horribly. But I did not love him and never should have married him. It was unfair to him, and nearly cost me the love of the only man I’ve ever loved. A man whom I’ve known since I was a girl.”
Just like me.
