The Rock (46 page)

And at the center was Thom.

From his position of honor beside the king on the dais, he could take it all in, savoring the moment for all that it meant. This was his moment, damn it. The blacksmith’s son had indeed climbed high—high enough to sit next to a princess. Lady Margaret Bruce was seated on his other side. But she wasn’t the princess who was bothering him.

Throughout the long meal, Thom was painfully aware of the woman seated on the other side of Randolph, who held the other position of honor beside the king. Fortunately, due to the two men being between them, the only conversation he’d had to endure with Elizabeth was when she and the other women had arrived at the table to take their seats, and she’d offered her heartfelt congratulations and “relief” that he was safe. Ignoring the plea in her eyes the one time they’d met, he’d given her offer more than it deserved: courtesy and nothing more.

But keeping up the wall of steel he’d erected around his heart wasn’t easy, especially when he could see how much his remoteness hurt her. But this is what
she’d
wanted, he kept telling himself. Not him. Which didn’t explain why he felt like he’d just kicked a kitten.

She’d tried to engage him in conversation a few more times, but the men between them proved a convenient barrier and means of evasion. Not to mention they were also speaking French. Of course they were. All nobles spoke French. Maybe that’s why he’d always hated it. It brought home the division between them in a way that could not be denied. He didn’t even speak the same bloody language.

It never would have worked out. He could see that now. She had tutors and he had no formal education to speak of; he’d grown up with one pair of boots for the winter, and she had a trunk full of pretty slippers; he melted gold and silver for a living, she wore it decorated with precious jewels in her hair. She was sophisticated and refined, he was provincial and rough.

He could go on and on. But even the fact that he was thinking about
her
made him angry.

He was furious with himself. He’d done what he’d set out to do—hell, far more than he’d ever set out to do—changing his fortune by earning a knighthood, a barony, and a place among the most elite warriors in Christendom. He’d done something no man had ever done before in climbing Castle Rock (solidifying his war name in the Guard as Rock), and in doing so had achieved battle immortality.

He should be basking in the glory, wallowing in the admiration, and delighting in all that he’d achieved. Instead it all rang hollow. None of it could fill the emptiness inside him or dull the ache where his heart used to be. None of it could make up for the one thing that he’d lost.

Damn her.

He made his escape at the earliest opportunity.

“Back to work already, MacGowan?” the king said as they stood to leave.

“Aye, sire. Some of the men have already begun taking down the south gate.”

The king nodded. “It is an unfortunate task but necessary. We can’t risk letting the English use this as a stronghold against us again, and I do not have the men necessary to defend it
and
meet them on the battlefield.” He put his hand on Thom’s back. “But at least we will enjoy it for a few days. Tomorrow we will have quite a celebration—I hope you are ready.”

Thom nodded. “I am indeed, sire.”

Tomorrow Thom would be knighted by the king himself, admitted into the Guard with a private ceremony, and formally be given his barony. A barony that had gotten richer when the king learned of his role in saving his nephew. He was going to be a wealthy man.

By refusing him, she’d given him the means of achieving not only fame but also fortune.

Irony was a cruel bastard.

Elizabeth watched Thom walk away with her heart in her throat. She wanted to go after him, and might have tossed propriety aside and done exactly that, had Randolph not been speaking to her.

Since she’d arrived at the castle with the other women from the abbey, she’d been fighting for a chance to speak to Thom. But he’d been surrounded by hordes of townspeople who all seemed to want to be near him—to touch greatness.

Especially the women. Watching them fawn and flirt had made her heart ache and her stomach turn. What had she expected? That he would become a monk? He was swoon-worthy handsome, tall, with a body that was as hard and impressive as the famous Rock he’d just climbed. Just because she’d been too blind to see it didn’t mean others wouldn’t.

She’d been unable to approach him until they were seated for the meal, but even then he’d barely spared her a glance and cut off any attempts she made to talk to him.

She’d known it wasn’t going to be easy, but it was difficult being patient when every moment felt like his heart was growing harder and harder against her. Soon, nothing would be able to penetrate.

And then there was Randolph. She’d wanted to speak to him as well, but he was so
happy
, she couldn’t stand the idea of tarnishing what was sure to be one of the greatest days of his life.

Oblivious to her torment, Randolph had regaled her with a moment-by-moment replay of the battle. Her horror on hearing about his fall—and Thom’s crazed rescue—was real. Mistaking the source of her distress, he’d apologized for scaring her, telling her he was perfectly hale. He’d finished the tale—which was a magnificent one indeed—just as Thom was leaving.

Randolph couldn’t seem to wipe the grin off his face. “I’d love to see your brother’s face when he hears the news. I daresay he won’t be happy.”

Jamie wouldn’t be, but not just because of the castle. Had her note reached him yet? She’d sent it with a messenger this morning.

She smiled. “I fear what he will do next to try to top you.”

Randolph laughed. “I’d like to see him try. I think this feat will stand for a while. Your friend MacGowan’s idea for those spikes was ingenious. Good thing he wasn’t born the son of a baker.” He laughed, and then suddenly sobered. “You were right about him; I owe him my life.”

It seemed like the perfect opening. Her voice wobbled a little. “My lord, might we speak in private for a moment?”

He took her hand to help lift her from her seat as they stood. “I should like nothing more, but might it wait? My uncle has put me in charge of the destruction of the castle, and the men are waiting for me.”

She smiled wanly. “Of course.”

“You are a gem. I knew you would understand.”

But would
he
? Elizabeth had to admit she was not looking forward to Randolph’s reaction on hearing that she wished to break the betrothal. She did not delude herself that he had any real feelings for her, but appearances mattered to him, and his pride would no doubt suffer.

Both Joanna and Izzie looked at her expectantly as she rejoined them for the walk back to the abbey—they’d been seated at a different table.

When Elizabeth shook her head, they couldn’t hide their disappointment.

Izzie asked. “What happened?”

“Neither of them would talk to me. Thom barely looked at me, and Randolph was too happy—and too busy. He said we could speak later.”

“Perhaps it would be best if you waited for James to speak to Randolph?” Joanna said.

“But you said that you didn’t know when Jamie would be back.”

“I don’t. Although I imagine once he receives your note, it won’t take him long. If he wasn’t away when it arrived, I’d wager we’ll see him sometime around midday tomorrow.”

Which was even more reason to have things settled with Thom. The last thing she needed was her brother interfering. When Jamie came back she and Thom needed to be a fait accompli.

But how was she going to manage that when he wouldn’t even talk to her?

Her mouth pursed with frustration. He could be so blastedly
stubborn
. Prying him out of one of his dark moods had always been difficult, and this was much worse than a dark mood. She was going to have to come up with something far more than a silly jest or two. She needed a plan. A sure way to get him alone.

She hated to involve her sister-in-law, but there was no other choice. Thom would certainly not answer a plea from her, but he would from Joanna.

When she asked for her help, however, Jo surprised her. “I don’t think that will be necessary. I think I know where he will be. I should have realized it right away. He said he would have James’s sword ready for me later tonight.”

Elizabeth followed the direction of her thoughts. “Which means at some point he will have to go to the forge to finish it.”

Joanna nodded excitedly.

Elizabeth smiled. “I will just wait there until he shows up.”

“A good Bruce tactic,” Izzie said wryly.

Elizabeth grinned. “That it is. So far this war has been won on lying-in-wait ambushes.”

It took Elizabeth a moment to realize Joanna wasn’t smiling anymore. Indeed, from the way she was biting her lip, she appeared to be having second thoughts.

“What is it, Jo?”

“Thom can be stubborn. What if he won’t listen?”

“I will have to make sure he does.”

“That’s what I’m worried about. You won’t do anything . . .
rash
, will you? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

They both knew what she meant by rash. “I’ll be careful, Jo. Besides, you know Thommy.”

He was honorable to the core.

Elizabeth, however, wasn’t. Douglases did what it took to win. Jo, however, did not need to be reminded of that.

Her sister-in-law immediately brightened. “I do.”

Izzie, however, wasn’t so easily placated. But surprisingly, her no-nonsense, play-it-straight cousin seemed to be impressed—maybe even admiring of her sinful tactics. She pulled Elizabeth aside so that Jo couldn’t hear. “Don’t worry about Randolph. Do what you need to do. Leave him to me.”

Elizabeth took note of the determined look on Izzie’s face and did not doubt it. She’d been right in her suspicions. She went to the table that still had the quill on it and wrote a quick note of apology. “Give this to him. And thank you.”

Something resembling relief flashed in Izzie’s eyes. “No, thank you.”

Not wanting to take a chance at missing Thom, Elizabeth left for the forge immediately—this time without an escort. She didn’t want someone standing outside to alert Thom to her presence, and she certainly didn’t want anyone inside with her.

It was late afternoon by the time she arrived. Fortunately, the smithy was already gone for the day, and the young apprentice who let her in was too awed by the lady from the abbey, who knew so much about smithing, to ask too many questions about her waiting for her old “friend.”

He was eleven, he informed her, and the smith was his father. She entertained him with stories from her past watching Thom work while he finished up his chores for the day. By the time he left, she was sad to see him go.

With the boy gone and left without distraction, she began to grow nervous. She had not eaten since the midday meal, and her stomach started to grumble as darkness fell outside. She should have grabbed a hunk of bread and cheese. And wine—plenty of fortifying wine. But she hadn’t really thought that far ahead.

What was she going to do if Thom wouldn’t forgive her? She didn’t know anything about seduction—she was a virgin for goodness’ sake! She should have asked someone. Not Joanna, obviously, but maybe Lady Helen? She had the feeling she would have understood. Perhaps she might have offered some tips? Suggestions? Tactics?

Elizabeth took off her heavy fur-lined wool cloak—despite the fire going out some time ago, she was warm—and tossed it on a bench. As it fell, it gave her an idea.

No. She couldn’t. She looked down at her remaining clothes—a fairly simple and easy-to-remove surcotte and cotte. Could she?

Elizabeth was pacing anxiously around the room when she finally heard the door open. She froze, glancing over as a man entered. Only when she saw the tall, familiar frame did she heave an inward sigh of relief. He had a sack slung over his shoulder, which from the size and shape she assumed was Jamie’s sword.

She was standing to the side, so he shouldn’t have noticed her right away. But almost like prey sensing danger, his eyes immediately locked on hers.

His utter lack of reaction sent a pang of foreboding to her heart. He didn’t look surprised, he didn’t look furious (what she’d expected), and he certainly didn’t look happy (had she secretly hoped so?). He didn’t look
anything
. There wasn’t a flicker of emotion in the cold, blue-eyed gaze that met hers.

Oh God, was it too late? Had she completely destroyed all the feelings he once had for her?

“How did you know—” He stopped, his mouth falling in a grim line. “Joanna.”

Elizabeth nodded mutely. He looked so imposing—so distant—so utterly unlike her Thommy that the nervousness she felt earlier returned tenfold. Her confidence wavered and the first icy beads of perspiration dotted her brow. She was so sure she knew him, but what if she didn’t? What if nothing she did could make him forgive her? What if all she succeeded in doing was humiliating herself?

It didn’t matter. She had to at least try.

“I know I shouldn’t be here like this, but I had to talk to you, and you left me little choice.”