The Knight (8 page)

Jaw locked, James watched as the fires scattered around the castle sparked, crackled, and roared to life, building and building with intensity. Smoke filled his lungs and burned his eyes, but still he refused to turn away. He stood and watched as his home went up in flames. As the place that he’d loved more than anywhere else was destroyed. He held his arms tightly at his side, as if to stop himself from reaching for something to hold on to. Joanna, he realized. He wished she were here by his side, her small hand tucked in his. She would understand what he was feeling. She knew what this place meant to him, that the castle was a connection to his father that it felt like he was severing forever. He needed her softness, her kindness, needed to feel her soothing presence by his side.

But at what cost? The sound of her ultimatum still rang through his head.

Maybe he should talk to her? But the way he was feeling right now, he feared what he would say. He feared how much he needed her.

Damn it, he couldn’t marry her—no matter how much he wanted her by his side. How could she not see that? Didn’t she know him at all? Restoring his family’s name and seeing the Douglases brought to greatness was the only thing that had mattered to him for a long time.

A harrowing cracking made him flinch. A moment later the roof of the hall came crashing down. He stared at the smoldering wreckage, unable to swallow the tight ball in his throat.

Only when embers started to fly and the wall of heat became unbearable did he allow Boyd to pull him away. “Come, the men found a barrel of whisky in the storehouse. We return to Park Castle and toast our victory. What say you?”

James hesitated. He’d been drinking all night, and it hadn’t done a damned thing to ease the ache in his chest. He knew only one thing—one person—could do that. Jo would know how to make him feel better. He needed to see her. “I—”

But Boyd cut him off. “What the hell is he doing here?”

James followed the direction of his gaze and saw the party of riders approaching. His mouth thinned. The bright crimson and gold of the riders’ arms blared the newcomers’ identity. The fact that they were making no effort to conceal them spoke of the authority, confidence, and boldness of its leader. James’s thoughts echoed Boyd’s: What the hell was Randolph doing here?

“I don’t know,” he said. “I thought he was with the King at Dunstaffnage.”

A few minutes later, Sir Thomas Randolph and his men drew up beside them in the field overlooking the still burning castle. After jumping down, Randolph drew off his helm and tucked it under his arm, raking his fingers through his crimped dark hair. His gaze met James’s with more understanding than James wished. “I see you’ve met with success.”

James regarded his compatriot and rival with an unblinking gaze. Though by right, they were natural adversaries—both vying for position in Bruce’s retinue—James and he had become friends. For all Randolph’s brash arrogance and knightly pomposity, he was a skilled warrior with a heavy streak of honor in him that might occasionally get him into trouble. They were more alike in that regard than James wanted to acknowledge.

“Aye,” James answered, and was unable to resist adding, “I believe that’s one more for me.”

Randolph bit back a smile. “I didn’t realize we were keeping tally.”

James shrugged. “Just making an observation, that’s all.”

“How did you take this one?” Before James could respond, Randolph held up his hand. “Wait—don’t tell me. I’m sure I’ll be hearing about it for a while.”

James’s smile deepened. “I think you might.”

Randolph’s brow quirked when he caught sight of the English soldiers gathered a short distance away. Seton was readying to escort them back to the border, having volunteered for the duty.

“You took prisoners?”

James didn’t know whether to be annoyed or not by the other man’s incredulity. “They surrendered.”

Randolph held his gaze, knowing there was more.

But James didn’t feel like explaining and changed the subject. “Why are you here?”

“You have a chance to add another castle to your tally. We are to attack the garrison at Linlithgow.”

“Bruce wants us to take the castle?”

Randolph nodded. “Gaveston—the Earl of Cornwall,” he corrected, referring to the new title given to Edward’s favorite, “has been sent to Perth. We’re to make sure his journey is as uncomfortable as possible. There’s an opportunity at Linlithgow—one of the local farmers thinks he can get us in. But we’ll have to move fast. How soon can you be ready to leave?”

James hesitated. Unconsciously, his gaze shifted west toward Hazelside. He’d promised to speak to her.

Randolph frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“There are a few things I need to attend to.”

“Like what?”

“When the fires cool, we’ll have to dismantle the walls—”

Randolph waved him off. “From the looks of it, the English won’t be back anytime soon. This shouldn’t take long. You can return in a week, or leave a few men behind to take care of it.”

Still James didn’t say anything. Boyd was giving him a disapproving look that told him he suspected exactly why James was delaying.

“Is there something else? If you are too busy, I can take care of it myself.”

James gritted his teeth. There was no way in hell he’d let Randolph take credit by himself. “Nay, nothing else.” Jo would have to wait. “I must return to Park Castle to leave instructions with my mother and my men, but we can be on our way within the hour.”

Joanna was too late. She stood in horror before the smoldering castle, smoke still curling from the blackened towers.

Oh God, what had happened here?

Some of the villagers had gathered around to gape at the ruins of what had been the most impressive building in Lanarkshire and the center and heart of this village. She recognized one of the men as Thomas’s father and ran up to him. “Have you seen James?”

“The young lord?” the blacksmith answered. “He’s gone.”

The blood drained from her body. “Gone? What do you mean ‘gone’?”

“He rode off in the direction of Park Castle about an hour ago with his men.”

Sighing with relief—for a moment she thought he meant
gone
gone—Joanna thanked him and ran past the destroyed castle toward the small tower house that James’s mother and sister had occupied since their return. Ten minutes later, she was out of breath and flushed as she crested the last small rise and the motte and bailey of Park Castle came into view.

Nestled in the trees on a small hill overlooking the burn, the old stone peel tower was not as impressive as the castle, but still exuded a formidable strength. She’d always liked Park Castle. It might be old and simply constructed, but the thick stone walls and square rooms held an air of well-lived-in comfort.

The old wooden palisade surrounding the bailey was long destroyed, enabling Joanna to see quite clearly into the bailey around the motte. The small yard flooded with at least two score warriors, including a group of a dozen or so men-at-arms wearing crimson and gold tabards.

The sight of the flurry of activity was one that was familiar to her. The men were packing up their belongings and readying the horses to leave.

She felt her first prickle of alarm and quickened her step. A few curious glances were thrown in her direction as she sped through the maze of men and horseflesh. One or two lingered appreciatively—too appreciatively, probably—but she paid them no mind, her own gaze searching for James.

She’s started toward a man she recognized who was standing near the tower stairs, when a wall of black leather and steel blocked her path. Startled, she drew back, gazing up into the steely-eyed gaze of a man—not a wall, although truth be told, there wasn’t much difference. He was solid. Rock hard. A fortress of masculine strength. Though not quite as tall as James, he was broader and thicker with muscle. His arms and shoulders were stacked with it.

The first word that came to mind when she looked at him was “strong,” and the second was “intimidating.” His features were rough and blunt, his expression unyielding. He might have been considered handsome if he wasn’t so imposing-looking.

She shivered and took a step back.

He seemed not to notice her reaction—or perhaps he was just used to it.

“Do you have need of something, my lady?”

His voice was deep and strong like the rest of him. Though not exactly unfriendly, neither was it friendly.

“I…” Her pulse raced nervously. “I’m looking for someone.”

“Now is not a good time, lass. Perhaps you should return in a few hours.”

“But I—”

“Jo, what are you doing here?”

Joanna sighed with relief at the familiar sound of James’s voice. But when she looked over her shoulder to see him approach, his expression was no more welcoming than the merciless-looking warrior’s—if anything, it was far less welcoming.

“I needed to see you.” Tears sprang unbidden to her eyes. “I saw the castle. What happened? You promised—”

“That will be enough, Boyd,” James said, cutting her off sharply and looking to the man who’d blocked her path. “I’ll take care of this from here.”

Boyd? Robbie Boyd? No wonder. The name of the terrifying warrior who’d once fought with William Wallace was well known around these parts. He was said to be the strongest man in Scotland. For once it seemed rumor could be believed.

“The men are ready to leave,” Boyd said.

Leave? She gasped. Her gaze shot to James, but he was looking at the other man.

“I know that,” James snapped. “This won’t take long.”

Boyd gave James a sharp nod that seemed to be some kind of silent communication. Whatever it signified, it caused James’s mouth turn white as the other man strode off.

James couldn’t be leaving, she told herself. He’d promised to speak with her.

He’d made a lot of promises, she thought, recalling his promise not to repeat the “larder” episode. Hadn’t she just seen the empty, burning shell of the castle a few minutes ago?

How little I matter to him.
“You’re leaving?”

His jaw locked. “I’ve been called away.”

“You said… you promised to come find me.”

“I know what I said, but it will have to wait.” She flinched at the sharpness—the impatience—in his voice. She’d never felt as if she’d overstepped her bounds with him, but she did now. He didn’t want her here. She didn’t belong here. She was embarrassing him.

“You shouldn’t have come here, Jo. I will see you when I return.”

She shook her head and clutched his arm imploringly. She knew he was right, but panic welled up inside her. He couldn’t leave. She had to tell him. “No. Please. It is important.”

Vaguely Joanna was aware of the men around them who were pretending not to listen, but she paid them no heed as she awaited his reply. Somehow it felt that if she let him walk away now, it would be too late.

James was very conscious of the curious gazes upon them. What in Hades was she doing here? When he’d first come down the stairs and seen Jo with Raider, he had been so relieved, so happy to see her that he’d almost done something foolish and run to her, before he remembered that he was angry with her. Anger that only grew when he realized why she was here.

Obviously, she’d heard about the castle and assumed the worst. Her lack of faith in him stung. Joanna
always
believed in him. Sometimes even more than he deserved. Sometimes even more than he believed in himself. He counted on that belief.

She shouldn’t be here like this, upbraiding him before his men and making a scene. He should make that clear. But even angered and embarrassed, he couldn’t hurt her like that, even if it was deserved.

Ignoring the questioning stares of his men, he took her by the arm and pulled her toward the keep. After leading her up the stairs, he glanced in the hall and, seeing that it was still occupied by his mother, sister, and Randolph, he led her toward the stairwell that led to the upper floors. There wasn’t much room in the small landing area, and they could be seen by anyone watching from the Hall, but at least they were unlikely to be overheard.

He crossed his arms so he wouldn’t be tempted to wrap them around her and schooled his features into a blank mask. “What is it, Jo? What is so important that you must come here like this and drag me away from my men?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Randolph take his leave from James’s mother and then his sister. He frowned, seeing the girlish blush that rose to Beth’s cheeks when Randolph took her hand and gave her a gallant bow.

“I heard that you’d taken the castle and—”

His gaze shifted back to Jo. “And you were worried that I’d broken my promise,” he finished for her. It was as he thought.

She nodded. “I saw the tower. How could you do that, James? How could you burn down your own home like that?”

He was so used to her understanding, it was strange when she didn’t. If she didn’t know how hard it had been on him, she didn’t know him at all. “I had no choice. You should know that. It’s the only way if we are to win this war.”

“But all those men.”

“I kept my promise to you, Jo, though I should never have given it. The garrison is on their way back to England right now.”

Her eyes widened. “They are?”

He nodded.

“Oh.”

He held her stare as she nibbled anxiously on her thumb. Normally he’d be tempted to wrap her in his arms and comfort her, but he was too angry—and conscious of the interested stare of Randolph, who’d unfortunately noticed them as he’d started to walk toward the entry stairs.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have trusted you.”

The fact that she hadn’t stung. He’d always taken her trust in him for granted. “I have to go, Jo. We’ll speak of this later.”

“You were going to leave without saying good-bye?”

“There wasn’t time. I won’t be long.”

“But I told you there was something I needed to tell you. If it were just me… but it’s not.” She drew a deep breath and looked at him with something akin to desperation in her gaze. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I was surprised, that’s all. I thought we both wanted the same thing. I shouldn’t have given you an ultimatum.”