The Knight (2 page)

A shadow crossed his face. “Actually, that’s why I came to find you.”

Her brows drew together. “How
did
you find me?”

He shrugged. “Douglas is coming; where else would you be?”

She ignored the wry edge to his voice that almost bordered on sarcasm. “It’s true?” She pounced on him excitedly. “Have you seen him?”

He shook his head. “Nay, but Park Castle was fairly abuzz with whispers of his imminent—or should I say
eminent
—arrival.”

This time there was no mistaking his sarcasm. Thom made no secret of his disapproval of his former childhood companion and the man most in Scotland regarded as a hero, “Good Sir James,” who fought to rid Scotland of its English oppressors. But it wasn’t James’s politics or his methods that Thom objected to, it was his relationship with her.

Thom just didn’t understand.

Something else in his voice, however, had caught her attention. “You saw Beth—I mean Lady Elizabeth?”

James’s younger sister had recently returned to Scotland and was currently residing at the old Park Castle, since the English had garrisoned Douglas Castle. The four of them had been inseparable in their youth—before the war had sent James to battle and Elizabeth to France for safety.

He didn’t answer, but the slight tightening around his mouth answered her question. “I’m leaving, Jo. It’s been arranged. I’ve come to say good-bye.”

She stared at him, perplexed. “Leaving? But where? When will you be back?” Was there a market nearby that she hadn’t heard about? Taking some of his father’s goods to market was about the only time that Thom left the village.

“I don’t know. Not for some time, I imagine. Perhaps a year or two.”

Joanna blinked, stunned. “A year or two?” She couldn’t have heard him right. “Is your father moving to another castle?”

He shook his head. “This has nothing to do with my father. He’s the smith of the Lords of Douglas—even in their absence—and he’ll never be anything else. He’s never wanted to be anything else. But I…” He stopped, a look of deep pain crossing his face. “I can’t stay here.”

Joanna put her hand on his arm, knowing the cause of that pain. Thom had loved—practically worshiped—James’s younger sister, Elizabeth, since the time he was a lad. About the only person who didn’t realize it was Lady Elizabeth herself. Thom had been dying for an excuse to see her since she’d returned with her stepmother and two younger half brothers. He must have found one. “Whatever she did, I’m sure it was not meant to hurt you. She’s never understood how you feel.”

His eyes hardened. “She does now.”

Joanna sucked in her breath, his pain so intense she felt it herself. He must have told her, and gauging from his reaction, the lady did not return his affections. “Oh God, Thom, I’m sorry. Perhaps if you gave her some time—”

“I’ve given her most of my damned life. It’s enough.”

She could see the determination on his face and knew there would be no dissuading him. And part of her knew that as much as it would hurt to lose him, it was probably for the best. He would never see another woman with Lady Elizabeth nearby. “Where will you go?”

Expecting that he would find work as a smith at another castle, she was shocked when he said, “I’m going to pledge my service to Edward Bruce.”

“But how?” she blurted. One didn’t just decide to be a warrior; it took training, connections, and more important, coin.

“My mother always wished it for me. She set aside some silver should I ever decide to leave.”

Thom’s mother had been the daughter of a knight, she recalled. She’d married beneath her—for love. “And now you are sure you wish to do so?”

The look in his eyes was as hard and sharp as a shard of black onyx. “I can’t stay here. She doesn’t see me as a man, but as a girlhood companion—and one too obviously beneath her. She’s a Douglas.”

Joanna did not miss the warning in his voice. It was one she’d heard many times before. “James isn’t like that—and neither is Elizabeth. I know you are angry with her, but you know he loves me, Thom.”

He gazed down at her pityingly. “Love doesn’t matter to a Douglas. Pride. Ambition. Those are what will help your James build his dynasty. You will always be the marshal’s daughter, just as I will always be the blacksmith’s son. Your father might be a baron, but he is still a vassal. Douglas will take a wife who feeds his ambition. One who will bring him wealth and position.”

Just for a moment his certainty sent a flicker of icy fear racing through her heart. “James isn’t like that. You don’t know him like I do.”

She believed in him—in
them
.

He held her gaze intently. “Aye, I do. I knew the boy, and I know the man. Ambition and James Douglas go hand in hand. People around here might revere him as a hero, but don’t be mistaken: He is ruthless. Nothing will stop him from getting what he wants.” He paused, letting some of his anger cool. “Are you sure you know him as well as you think you do?”

“You know better than to listen to the English, Thommy. James is not the black devil they would make him out to be.” But even as she defended him, Joanna acknowledged a growing unease about James’s reputation. The fearsome man who’d struck terror in the heart of the English was not the James she knew. It was hard to mesh the gallant knight she loved with the ruthless “Black Douglas” who cut a swathe of destruction across the Marches.

And she knew better than anyone that not all the stories were false. The infamous “Douglas Larder” had happened three Easters past in the very castle she could see across the river. Her own grandfather had died at James’s side when James and his men had surprised the English garrison while they attended services on Palm Sunday. After looting the castle stores, they’d beheaded the prisoners and tossed their bodies on a pile of the remaining stores before setting the whole lot on fire.

Fight fear with fear,
James had told her. And it had worked. The danger in holding Douglas Castle had earned it the moniker “Castle Dangerous” from the English. But she didn’t like to think of the man who’d held her heart for as long as she could remember as being so… merciless.

Stop!
she told herself.
James loves you
.

She trusted him. But unconsciously, her hand covered her stomach.

Thom gave her a sad smile, obviously sensing the direction of her thoughts. “He might love you, but he’ll marry to increase the wealth and prestige of Douglas.”

“You’re wrong.” But her soft voice lacked the conviction it had held before.

Suddenly, Thom’s expression changed. His gaze flickered to the hand that was spread out over her belly, first in disbelief, and then in horrified anger. “Oh, God, Jo, what have you done?”

She blushed. From what she’d heard from some of the village lasses, Thommy knew exactly what she’d done.

“Tell me you aren’t with child?” He breathed tightly.

She couldn’t do that. She lowered her eyes, not daring to meet his gaze. It wasn’t condemnation she feared but something far worse: pity.

“The bloody bastard, I’ll kill him!”

Joanna latched on to his arm, preventing him from moving away. James would not be the one killed—they both knew that. Despite their similarity in size and physical strength—Thom had the heavy muscles of a smith—he had never been trained to fight. James was “the Black Douglas,” a battle-hardened warrior who’d held a sword in his hand since he was a lad. It would be no contest.

“No, Thom. I neither need nor want your outrage. It isn’t warranted. I knew the risk I took. I wanted…” She bit her lip, embarrassed. “I wanted to lie with him. He did not force me.”

But her words did little to dampen his anger. “He took advantage of your love for him as he’s always done, damn it. I should have put a stop to it the day I caught him kissing you—doing more than kissing you—up here, but I never thought he would dishonor you like this.”

“He didn’t dishonor me.”

“Make no mistake, Jo. No matter what Douglas might have let you believe, he might make you his leman, but he won’t make you his wife. Babe or nay.” The distraught rage on his face cut her to the quick. Her chest squeezed. “Damn him to hell. Your innocence belonged to your husband. You don’t have to be a bloody knight to know that.”

Joanna had never seen him so angry. And in spite of her faith in James, it was hard not to be affected by Thommy’s reaction. Her heart started to flutter with panic, and tears burned her eyes. “Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to ruin this for me? I know you’re upset about Beth, but this is different. James and I have been in love for years. You know that. He intends to marry me; I know he does. Can’t you be happy for me?”

He sighed, raking his dark hair back with his fingers. Some of his anger seemed to dissipate. “I’m sorry, Jo. I don’t want to upset you. But I care about you, and don’t want to see you hurt. Your heart is too big. You are worth far more than land and gold. It is Douglas who doesn’t deserve you.”

She bowed her head and said quietly with all the conviction in her heart, “You’re wrong about him, Thommy.”

“I hope so. For your sake, I hope so. If I had a woman who had half as much faith in me as you, I would never let her go. But promise me something.” He paused until she looked up. “If he doesn’t live up to that faith, you’ll send for me. If he won’t give your child a name, I will.”

She stared at him in shock. “But you don’t love me.”

He laughed. “Perhaps not in the way you mean, but we’re friends, which is more than most husbands and wives can say.”

The generosity of his offer moved her, but it was an offer she could never accept. For his sake as well as her own. “What of Beth?” she asked softly.

His mouth hardened. “I could become the greatest knight in Christendom, and it would not change my birth or how she looks upon me. I do not delude myself. Lady Elizabeth Douglas will never be for me. She might as well be the bloody Queen.”

The way he said it…

Was Joanna deluding herself?

No.
James wouldn’t do that to her. She trusted him with every fiber of her being—body and soul.

It was well after midday by the time James clambered up the hill. There was a lightness in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Since the last time he’d been with Jo, in fact.

God, it had been too long.

As he neared the crest of the hill, he saw her. Waiting for him beneath the old Sessile Oak tree, as she always did. She turned, and the broad smile that spread across her face made his breath catch hard in his chest like the pounding of a fist.

The memories that held him over the long months of their separation never did her justice. It was impossible to remember just how lovely she was in the flesh. He could never quite get the exact shade of golden blond of her hair, the vivid peacock-blue of her eyes, the flawlessness of her freshly-churned-cream skin, the brilliance of her smile, or the curvy—very curvy—lushness of her figure.

Hers was not the refined beauty of the noblewomen at court, but a wholesome goodness drawn from the verdant beauty of the countryside around them. His Viking dairymaid, he thought of her. His
lusty
Viking dairymaid, he amended. He’d known she would be responsive, but never could he have imagined such innate sensuality.

Anticipation coursed through his blood, the memories of what had happened last time hastening his steps. He hadn’t meant to let it go so far, but it had seemed inevitable from the first kiss they’d shared in the barn so long ago. Even at fifteen, he’d known she belonged to him.

And she knew it, too. She was already flying into his arms. “James!”

Just the sound of her husky voice was like ambrosia to his war-trodden soul. His arms slid around her, and he savored the simple pleasure of her soft, welcoming body melting into his.

He’d missed her, he realized. More than he’d ever dreamed possible. When had she become so important to him? So vital? Like the air he breathed and the food he ate, Joanna nourished his soul.

“You came,” she said, looking up at him with such an expression of joy on her face, it felt like his lungs had turned to steel.

Because her mouth was only inches from his, because he could practically taste its sweetness, and simply because it had been too damned long, he kissed her.

His mouth covered hers, swallowing her gasp of surprise, and then the low moan of pleasure that went straight to his bollocks with a hard tug.

So soft. So warm. So much sweeter than he’d remembered. Heat coursed through his blood and tired limbs.

He groaned, feeling her soften. Her mouth opened under his, and he had to taste her more deeply. His tongue delved into her mouth, stroking and consuming in long, slow pulls.

Oh God, it was incredible. Over and over, he drew her in.

The first tentative flicker of her response nearly brought him to his knees. Passion was new for her, but instinct and enthusiasm more than made up for lack of experience. Her body was made for this and seemed to know it.

He tightened his hold around her waist, bending her into him, increasing the pressure against his already rock-hard cock.

She felt so good. He couldn’t wait to be inside her again. To feel all the tight, warm flesh gripping him. To hear her cries of pleasure as he made her shatter.

His heart pounded. His blood surged. He felt his control slipping.

He pulled away with an oath. He couldn’t do this now. He didn’t have time. He shouldn’t even be here, but he had to see her. Robbie Boyd and Alex Seton were probably already looking for him. The two members of Bruce’s secret Highland Guard wouldn’t be happy he’d snuck away only hours before they were to put their plan into motion.

But gazing down into her hazy, passion-filled eyes, he almost reconsidered. Three months was a long time to abstain. He felt more like a monk at lent, than a young, virile, and lusty man of not yet five and twenty. But since the day she’d given herself to him, James had lost his appetite for other women—an appetite that had been rather voracious up to that point. He’d been trying to ease his hunger with trifles, only finding satisfaction with Joanna.