by Amy Jarecki
“To see His Grace?”
“Aye,” James gave a quick reply, not daring to admit he had just been trying to decide where to take her. But seeking out Robert would not only rightfully put the decision on where to place the Maxwells in the king’s hands, James would be able to deliver the news about the English invasion himself and discuss their strategy for keeping the queen safe.
“Should we not send a missive and await his reply?”
“It is no longer safe to remain here. Once Sir Henry’s men find he’s been slain, they will be champing at the bit for revenge. Our trail might be difficult to follow, but they’ll come. Mark me, sooner or later they will come.”
“Very well.” Ailish clasped her hands tightly. “Can we send someone to Lincluden to fetch Florrie and Coira? We’ve been apart so long, I’m certain they’re sick with worry.”
James shook his head. “I’m sorry, but it is a risk we cannot take. Lincluden has already been compromised. It is the first place they’ll look.”
“Then I ought to write a letter.”
“Absolutely not.” James waved his finger under her saucy nose. “I ken how important it is to be reunited with your sister but, presently, the best thing you can do for her and your maid is to remain at large. I mean it. Do not disobey me on this.”
“I wouldn’t think of—”
“Oh no? Like you didn’t think when you told the Carlisle guard you were with child. That may have not gone awry, but thinking you knew better and posing as a washerwoman greatly delayed our chances to find Harris. Worse, if we had failed to rescue you from the grips of the Lord Warden, you might very well be at the mercy of Edward’s whims.”
Ailish glared and crossed her arms. “This is what you think of me? Have you forgotten my arrows hit their marks at the border or the fact that I sat at your bedside for days on end?” She stamped her foot. “I’ll wager you cannot wait to be rid of me!”
She grabbed her brother’s hand. “Come, Harris, else we’ll be late for the evening meal.”
James raked his fingers through his hair as the woman stormed out of the barn without a backward glance.
I reckon I deserved that.
Nonetheless, a stone of lead dropped to the pit of his stomach. Aye, Ailish was still the sable-haired lass who’d stolen his heart at the coronation, but until the kingdom was securely returned to the hands of the Scots, he must not let his heart muddle his thinking or his decisions. The Bruce would know where to send Her Ladyship and her kin until the war’s end.
Rather than take his meal in the hall, James slipped into the kitchens and ate there. Damn it all. Why was it every time he argued with the lass he felt like a heel? And why did she always seem to bring out the raving beast within his chest? Did she not know how precious she was?
Worse, the mere thought of her one day marrying some pompous lord made him want to bury his fist in the nearest face.
***
After they’d ridden to Ayr and procured a birlinn, Harris had insisted on sitting at the bow where he could see everything. Ailish joined him no matter how much she would have preferred to sit astern and brood. Over and over, she’d reminded herself that her brother was her only care. She’d known all along James could not fall in love with her, just as she was prohibited from loving him.
But reason did nothing to soothe the ache shredding her heart into hundreds of hopeless pieces.
Several times she had admonished herself for giving her heart to the Black Douglas, a ruthless man who had razed his own keep. But her daft heart continually answered back that the man she was trying to cast from her thoughts was good, courageous, and loyal to his very soul. He put honor and duty ahead of all, which is what she truly respected. Though she tried to convince herself otherwise, she had no regrets about giving herself to the man.
None at all.
If it ruined me, then so be it.
As they approached the southern tip of the Isle of Arran, the wind blew a gale, making the birlinn rock from side to side while water lapped over her hull. But after they turned northward into the straits, the seas calmed enough for the boat to swiftly tack up the isle’s western shore.
James had given the fisherman a false name and told him to take them to the Caves of Arran. He hadn’t uttered a word to her about who they’d meet there. Of course, Ailish guessed it might be the king, but perhaps it was only a place to meet someone who could ferry them to His Grace. Nonetheless, she didn’t bother asking. At the moment, it was simply too painful to speak to him.
“The Caves of Arran are ahead,” called the fisherman. “I’ll sail as near as I can but you’ll need to help the lady alight.”
Caerlaverock Castle was on the Firth of Solway and Ailish was no stranger to traveling by boat. “I’m perfectly capable of alighting on my own,” she said rather sternly. Her hem might end up wet, but she could hardly bear to let James carry her.
And the idea of having him ask one of the men to carry her was too much of an affront.
Contrary to her wishes, as soon as the fisherman dropped anchor, James hopped over the side. Standing knee-deep in the surf, he reached up. “I’d never again be able to call myself a knight if I didn’t help you to the shore, m’lady.”
Ailish tsked her tongue while Harris had no problem hoisting himself over the side and splashing through the waves as if he were born to be a sailor. “Very well, if you insist.”
“I do.”
She grasped his hand, swung one leg over his extended arm and then the other.
Ye gods, as soon as she was cradled in his arms, he grinned. The same bone-melting grin that had ensnared her heart in the first place. Did he not know how much his smile affected her? Or the intensity of those obsidian eyes, or the thick black hair that had grown in enough to curl about his crown, making him look like a dastardly plunderer of women.
Plunderer.
The very word made gooseflesh rise across her skin and her nether parts awake with a need she wished she could forget. And why did she find this dangerous man so attractive? Not that she wanted to forget anything about James Douglas, she simply wanted to forget how lustful he made her feel.
“Have you a chill?” he asked, his voice far too soothing as he carried her beyond the rocks to the white sand.
“Nay.” She averted her gaze to keep from delving further under his spell. “You may put me down now.”
“If that is your wish.”
In a heartbeat, she was on her feet. “Where do we go from here?”
“We wait until the birlinn has sailed out of sight,” James whispered, then waved to the fisherman. “Thank you, friend.”
“Look!” Harris dashed to Ailish and held up a large clam shell. “It has the sound of the sea if you hold it against your ear.”
She took the shell and pretended to be surprised when she heard the rush. “That is astonishing!”
It didn’t take long for the boat to sail away and, once it did, Sir Arthur Campbell and Sir Robert Boyd marched out of one of the four openings of the cave. At least Ailish counted four. They looked like archways sculpted by the sea. Not uniform like arches along a cloister, but similar enough to appear to be carved by the same hand.
“Douglas?” asked Boyd, his hand on his hilt as he neared.
James marched toward the men while Ailish followed. “We’ve come with news of grave import. Is the king still here?”
“Aye.” Arthur’s gaze slid her way before he took her hand, bowed, and kissed it. “M’lady, may I say how nice it is to see your lovely face.”
“We’ve no time for pleasantries,” growled James, stepping between them. “We must gain an audience with His Grace at once.”
Boyd gave Ailish a polite bow, then waved them toward the caves. “Follow me.”
“Come, Harris,” she said, beckoning her brother who was using his shell to dig in the sand.
“I want to find a chest of treasure.”
She snapped her fingers. “Something tells me you’ll ha
ve a chance to continue your search later.”
Ailish fell in step with Sir Arthur who had danced with her at the coronation. “I’m surprised not to see His Grace on the shore. Is he unwell?”
“We retreat into the caves if a ship is spotted,” said Sir Robert.
“Ah, yes. I should have thought.”
The king stepped into the light just as they reached the arches. “Lady Ailish Maxwell and Sir James? I see you found the young earl, did you not?”
“We did. But I bring unsettling news—” James placed his hands on Harris’ shoulders. “His Lordship overheard his captor, none other than Sir Henry Percy, speak of their plans to sack Kildrummy and take Her Grace and Lady Marjorie prisoner.”
“My God.” The king gripped his fist over his chest as he glanced aside. “They know?”
“Aye, Your Grace,” said Harris. “And they’re waiting on the arrival of a siege engine they call the Warwulf.”
Though the news was terribly grim, Ailish stood a bit taller. Her brother would soon be turning ten years of age and already he’d proven himself invaluable to the king.
Robert mussed the lad’s hair as a dark shadow crossed his face. “Have you any idea how soon they will march?”
James shook his head. “Nay—only that they are assembling their army at Lochmaben.”
Harris glanced between them, a smudge of sand on his cheek. “And Sir Henry intended to collect conscripts on the journey northward.”
“I have three hundred men ready to take up arms,” said James.
“Good.” The Bruce’s gaze swept across the stoic faces of his knights. “We’ll need to make haste.”
“But I saw no ships,” said James. “How will we reach the mainland?”
“I’ve a birlinn hiding within.” The king ran his fingers through his beard. “Tell me, why did you bring Lady Ailish and Caerlaverock bearing such grave news?”
“I had no choice, Your Grace.” James explained about the fruitless journey to Carlisle and how they ended up at Fail Monastery, as well as Harris’ rescue from Lochmaben.
“My lady’s maid and sister, Florrie, are still at Lincluden Priory,” Ailish added. “They might be captured at any given moment.”
“I see,” said the king.
James shifted his fists to his hips. “Since the nunnery has been compromised, I need a safe haven for Her Ladyship and her kin. Of course, a monastery full of monks is no place for a lady.”
“No.” Robert looked northward as if preoccupied with a great many woes. “M’lady, I am certain the chieftain of MacSween will be able to accommodate you and your siblings at Lochranza Castle on the northern tip of this isle. I’ll send a cohort to fetch your sister and your maid straightaway.”
Ailish curtseyed. It would be a relief for them to be together again. “My thanks.”
“And you, m’lord,” said the king, addressing Harris. “You have been most brave, have you not?”
“Aye.” The lad gave Ailish a dubious glance. “But Sir Henry made me his squire. I was learning so much. I’d hate to be locked away on this isle like I was at the priory. The nuns were kind but taught me nothing about being an earl.”
The Bruce’s brows arched. “Is that so?”
“Aye,” Harris bobbed his head emphatically. “Sir Henry said I would become a great man, but before I can take my place as Earl of Caerlaverock I must be fostered.”
Ailish and James exchanged glances. The lad had grown up so much in the time he was away. Had it been all that long ago when she’d comforted him in her arms as they fled?
“Very true,” said the king. “Sir James, you will take on His Lordship as your squire.”
The big knight’s jaw dropped, and he stood speechless for a moment before he found his tongue. “Your Grace, I’d like nothing better than to take Caerlaverock under my wing, but we are riding into battle.”
“And there is no better place for him to learn about war and strategy than in the midst of conflict.” Robert looked to Ailish. “Not to worry, m’lady. Your brother will not be taking up arms until his beard grows in, but make no bones about it, everything the wee earl just said is the brutish truth.”
She curtseyed, while her heart twisted in dozens of knots. Perhaps she knew one day Harris would no longer be her charge, but she never expected the day to come so quickly. “Yes, Your Grace.”
“I also have not forgotten your beauty or your courage,” the king continued. “I will make a match with your hand, and soon.”
Heat flared up the back of Ailish’s neck. She didn’t need to look at James to know how intensely the big knight’s dark gaze bored into her.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
While Ailish took a walk with her brother to say their goodbyes, James followed the king deeper into the cave. It was rocky and damp, though there was a makeshift table, pot of ink, and quill on a table where he assumed the Bruce conducted his affairs. “Why are you staying here in this squalor rather than at Lochranza Castle with MacSween?”
“Edward’s fleet patrols these waters. There’s naught to be seen here, but they’ve spent a good deal of time watching MacSween—sail past every day or so.”
“Do they suspect you’ve taken refuge on Arran?”
“We spread word that I had fled to Ireland, but the English are nothing if not cunning.” The king sat in a wooden chair—the only seat in the cave. “’Tis why you are one of the few who truly kens where I am.”
James bowed his head as his chest swelled. For once in his life, he’d found a place where his name was respected.
“’Tis also why we will be sailing this night after the witching hour.”
“Sailing at night is dangerous, is it not?”
“Aye, and that’s why the English patrols will not see us. The bastards will be tucked in their beds dreaming about swiving their women.”
“I commend your courage, Your Grace.”
The king eyed him. “You seem quite protective of the Maxwell lass.”
“You assigned me to her care, if you do not recall.”
“Of course, I remember. But you were only charged with returning her safely to Lincluden Priory. It appears much has happened since.”
“It has, Your Grace.”
“And you’ve grown fond of her?”
“Perhaps, but do not allow any affection I may harbor against me. I ken my duty and it is by your side for as long as you need my sword.”
“Yes, it is, though you must also see to it you have heirs.”
James swiped a hand across his mouth. “Mayhap one day when we’re not riding northward to defend the queen—”
“Indeed.” The king pointed to a flagon with two cups beside it fashioned out of bulls’ horns. “Will you pour?”
James stepped forward and did as asked. “Wine, Your Grace?”
“’Tis good for the soul.” Robert took the cup and drank. “Take Her Ladyship to Duncan MacSween and tell him she and her sister will be staying on until I arrange Lady Ailish’s marriage.”
“Now?”
“Aye, now. Her Ladyship will be far more comfortable sleeping in a bed, mark me. Fewer midges to fester under her skin as well.”
The wine stuck in James’ throat, making him force it down. Did he want to marry the lass? Aye, if it weren’t likely he’d be killed in battle. Perhaps if she weren’t so damned stubborn.
Like me.
“Douglas, I sense you are a hundred miles away.”
“Forgive me.” James bowed. “I suppose after all this time it will be difficult to say goodbye to the Lady Ailish. Even though…”
“Hmm?”
“Even though she challenges me at every turn.”
“Is that not what willful noblewomen are bred to do?”
“I beg your pardon?”
The king sat back and cradled his cup between his hands. “Was your mother not of her own mind?”
James thought back on the tales his father had proudly told about his ma. Indeed, Elizabeth Ste
wart was a force to be reckoned with. “She was, Your Grace. I recall a servant once saying she was the only woman with backbone enough to stand up to my da.”
The king took another drink and wiped his mouth. “Thought as much.”
James tugged at his collar and looked outside. Ailish and Harris were approaching. “I’d best take Her Ladyship to Lochranza as you asked.”
***
Ailish walked beside James in silence. She ought to be overjoyed for Harris and not woeful that he was leaving her. Moreover, she ought to be swimming with pride because they were able to deliver such important news to the king. Lord knew she’d prayed time and time again for the queen’s safety.
But no matter how she ought to feel, the world seemed to be splintering into shards around her. And those very shards felt as if they were spearing her lungs, taking her breath away.
James glanced over his shoulder, then led her behind an outcropping. “I wanted a word with you before we arrive at the castle.”
She stared at her folded hands, refusing to meet his gaze. “I suppose there’s nothing left to say. You ken how much Harris means to me. I expect you to guard him with your life.”
“I will. I give you my solemn vow to protect him as I have you, m’lady.”
In truth, Ailish could imagine no one better to foster her brother, though losing him—seeing the wee lad ride into peril made her hollow inside. She pursed her lips and gave a stiff nod.
“I wanted you to know…”
She dared glance up. His eyes were so intense, as if he were tortured by some deep emotion. “What is wrong?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “It isn’t easy to put into words what I am feeling.”
She cupped his cheek, his beard far softer than it looked. “I knew when I gave myself to you that our time was fleeting at best. We are both children of this war and we’ve naught but to cling to each other and share God’s gifts when we are able.”
“I want—”
“Sh.” She pressed her finger to his lips. “I have no regrets.”
He nodded.
“Though I do have one request.”
“Which is?”
“Please tell the king I am in no hurry for him to arrange my marriage.”
