Sir Thomas grinned, the threat seeming only to amuse him. But he did pull his hand away. He took a long sip of wine, casually popped a few more of the handful of precious grapes he’d availed himself of into his mouth, and finally got down to the business that had brought him here. “I hope this feast means that you’ve handled whatever ‘emergency’ has kept you from my uncle’s side.” His gaze flickered to Joanna for just a moment. “He’s growing rather impatient for your return.”
James’s expression hardened. He kept his gaze fixed on Sir Thomas. “I’m afraid he will have to wait a while longer. I cannot return yet.”
“It isn’t a request.” All jesting fell away as Sir Thomas’s expression turned deadly serious. “I’ve been ordered to bring you back.”
James’s mouth fell in a stubborn line. “I need a while longer.”
Joanna could no longer stay quiet. Her hand went to James’s arm imploringly. “You cannot refuse. You have to go. You do not need to do this to prove anything to me.”
The stubborn glint in his eye suggested differently. “I will not leave until things are settled between us, and I will not force a decision upon you until you are ready.”
Joanna could feel Sir Thomas’s gaze moving back and forth between them. Suddenly, he burst into laughter. “My God, she refused you!” He took her hand and lifted it to his mouth. “Brains as well as beauty. My lady, you are a true prize. I wondered at the woman who could make a man refuse a royal bride, but now I understand. You are a lady of rare taste and discernment. I may just have to fight Douglas for you after all.” He shot a laughing glance at James, who appeared to be struggling to keep his temper in check. “She refused you,” Sir Thomas repeated again. “Just wait until Hawk hears about this.”
Joanna might have wondered at this man named Hawk, but she was too stunned by what Sir Thomas had said. She turned to James in utter disbelief. “A royal bride?”
The temper he’d been fighting to keep in check turned to embarrassment when he met her gaze. “It’s nothing.”
She glanced inquiringly at Sir Thomas, who was only too eager to explain. “My uncle offered him a betrothal to my aunt Margery. Douglas here refused and said there was only one woman he would marry.”
Joanna felt the blood drain from her face. She couldn’t believe it. She alone knew how much an alliance like that would mean to James. It was everything he’d wanted. And he’d refused?
She couldn’t tear her eyes from his face. “Is this true, James?”
He shot an annoyed glare at Sir Thomas. “Aye, but he left out one part. I said, ‘if she’ll have me.’”
“Why did you not tell me?”
He shrugged, genuinely confused. “I did not think it important. It has nothing to do with us.”
Tears of happiness blurred her eyes. If she had any doubts left about his sincerity, they were gone. Bruce’s sister. She couldn’t believe he’d given up that kind of alliance for her. He did love her. He did really want to marry her.
And she wanted to marry him. Her heart swelled as the first tears slid down her cheeks. But they were tears of joy, and it was with a smile that she whispered, “She’ll have you.”
He took her hand, his eyes locking on hers. She could see the intensity of the emotions he was fighting hard to contain. “Do you mean it? I’ll not have you forced by anything he says.” He gestured with his head toward Sir Thomas.
Blinking back tears, she laughed and nodded. “I’m sure.”
He let out a whoop of joy mingled with undeniable relief and gave her a fierce hug before dropping to his knee.
And there, before the entire Hall and the rival who would stand at his side three weeks later after the banns were read as he married her, James Douglas, Lord of Douglas, asked Joanna to marry him for the second time.
This time she said yes.
EPILOGUE
Park Castle, three weeks later
James was going to do this right if it killed him. But the moment he closed the door behind him and saw his new wife lying in the bed waiting for him, the weeks—months—of torturous restraint caught up to him.
She looked so damned beautiful, her big blue eyes peering over the coverlet clutched to her chin, her golden hair spilled out like a silken veil on the pillow behind her, and he wanted her with a ferocity that was akin to desperation. It had been too damned long. Four and a half months without touching her, without being inside her, without feeling her move under him.
But he had to do this right, damn it. He had to honor the bond they’d just made. She was his wife. She deserved to be made love to on her wedding night, not ravished by some kind of starving beast.
He leaned back against the door, taking a deep breath. Slow. He managed a crooked smile. “I know this is not the wedding you hoped for—or the one you deserve—but I promise when this damned war is over I will make it up to you.”
His words seemed to relax her. She released her death grip on the coverlet and inched up in the big bed a little. He tried not to notice the gossamer-thin linen of her chemise or think about all the naked skin underneath. But just the dip of creamy skin revealed at the neck was enough to make him hard.
“I’m surprised the king gave you leave at all. From what Sir Thomas says, you are fortunate Edward has made no move north or Bruce would still have you digging trenches.”
“Randolph exaggerates. It wasn’t that bad.”
“Did you really offer to dig the cesspits?”
He moved across the room to sit on the edge of the bed. His mouth twisted in a wry smile. “Not exactly. I said I would marry you in three weeks even if I had to dig cesspits for the remainder of the war. The king appreciated the irony and it must have convinced him that I was in earnest. He said that wouldn’t be necessary, but I was put in charge of laying some of the ‘groundwork’ for Edward’s arrival.”
As before, Bruce had no intention of meeting Edward on the battlefield, but they would mount plenty of the quick, surprise pirate attacks that Bruce and his phantom guard were becoming famous for. The trenches were used both to wreak havoc on the cavalry and to hide their presence.
But there were rumors that Edward was going to be forced to abandon his second campaign to Scotland and return to London to deal with yet more trouble from his barons.
Joanna sat up, the coverlet falling to her waist. James sucked in his breath, seeing the unmistakable shadow of her pointed nipples beneath the linen.
“Considering the circumstances, I’m happy to have a wedding night at all.”
When he didn’t respond, she followed the direction of his gaze and blushed.
She tried to pull up the silk bed linens to cover herself, but he stopped her. “Don’t,” he choked. His eyes burned into hers. “You are so beautiful.” Her cheeks fired even hotter, and he let out a sharp laugh. “God, don’t tell me you are embarrassed. I’ve seen every inch of you naked in the sunlight.”
She bit her lip, fighting a smile. “Aye, but this feels different.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” he admitted, having just had the same thoughts. “I’m feeling a little nervous myself.”
“You are?”
She looked so shocked he had to laugh. “Aye, I want it to be perfect.”
A broad smile lit every corner of her beautiful face. “How can it not be, James? Every time you touch me it is perfect.”
She was right, and he couldn’t wait another minute to prove it. Sliding his hand around the back of her neck, he pulled her mouth to his and kissed her.
He groaned at the contact, at the heady sensation of heat and softness. His lips moved over hers gently at first and then more insistently as her mouth opened to take his tongue.
Oh God, it had been too long since he’d kissed her like this. The hot, wicked strokes of their tongues ignited a wildfire in him that he couldn’t hope to contain. His hands were everywhere, touching every inch of the lush body that drove him wild. He forgot the fact that this was his wedding night, that he’d vowed
to take it slow, that she was his wife. What was important had never changed. He loved her, and when he touched her everything felt right. Everything felt perfect.
He concentrated on the only thing that mattered: bringing her pleasure.
Nervousness and embarrassment forgotten, he broke the kiss long enough to divest himself of his clothes and lift the chemise over her head. Nothing separated them when he slid on top of her—and then inside her—skin to skin, heat to heat.
She took him in with a gasp and a moan, her hands gripping the flexed muscles of his shoulders and arms.
“James!”
He answered her cry with a hard thrust, and then another. It felt so damned good, he had to fight the urge to come with every stroke. Her body gripped him tightly, holding him in, deeper and deeper, as she lifted her hips to meet his powerful thrusts.
And it was powerful, not just in force but in import. With every hard stroke, with every loving tilt of her hips, they forged a bond that would never be broken. With his body, he made her a promise. He vowed to love, honor, and cherish her for the rest of his life.
Only when she cried out for the second time did he let himself go. Sensation shot through him in bolt after bolt of pleasure so intense, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven. A short while later, when Joanna cuddled up against him, pressed her soft cheek against his chest, and fell asleep, he was sure of it.
He was damned lucky, and he knew it. He’d come so close to losing her. His ambition had nearly cost him everything. He could achieve greatness and raise his clan to dizzying heights, but none of it would mean a damn thing without Joanna by his side.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Perhaps no one benefitted from Bruce’s succession to the throne of Scotland more than James Douglas. Along with Thomas Randolph, the future Earl of Moray, the “Good Sir James” would become one of Bruce’s most vaunted and trusted commanders.
As the story goes, a young James waylaid the would-be king on the way to his coronation in 1306 and pledged his loyalty, which never wavered. Douglas was said to be among the handful of close supporters who followed Bruce into exile from 1306 to 1307 and was again at his side when Bruce made his improbable comeback.
At the important Bruce victory of the Battle of Brander in the prologue (also featured in The Ranger), Douglas and his archers were given credit for climbing above the lying-in-wait MacDougalls to ambush the ambushers. Later, James, Randolph, Robbie Boyd, and Edward Bruce led the war in the Borders, eventually waging attacks deep into the English countryside.
James’s loyalty and achievements on the battlefield were rewarded, and the house of Douglas did indeed rise to dizzying heights. So high, in fact, that a hundred years after James’s death, the now Earls of Douglas had become a threat to the crown, leading to the murders of both the sixth earl in 1440 at the infamous “Black Dinner” (which served as inspiration for the Red Wedding in George R. R. Martin’s A Storm of Swords) and the eighth earl by King James II himself in 1452.
It is interesting that for such a famous man little is known of his wife, although given the time period, it seems likely that he had one. He is said to have had at least two sons—Archibald the Grim and another who fell at the battle of Halidon Hill in 1333. The genealogical charts and clan histories aren’t much help, but a couple mention a wife named Joan or Joanna.
Given his importance and position in Bruce’s retinue, I thought it odd that Bruce didn’t offer him a sister, as he seemed to do for many of his other close cohorts including Neil Campbell, Hugh Ross, Christopher Seton, and Alexander Fraser. Walter Stewart, James’s kinsman, who is also a young, important knight in Bruce’s retinue, ends up married to the king’s daughter.
It got me wondering why. As most marriages at the time were political alliances and dynastically motivated, presumably if James’s wife had been the daughter of an important nobleman it would have been noted. But maybe she wasn’t “important”? What if James married for other reasons? Thus, the inspiration for the marshal’s daughter. I also liked the idea of tying her to the infamous Douglas Larder episode and the local man, Thomas Dicson (Dickson), the hereditary castellan of Castle Douglas, who lost his life helping James on that auspicious Palm Sunday.
The Douglas Larder, which either happened on Palm Sunday 1307 or 1308 (I have it as the latter here and in The Viper), is the first and best known of three attacks by James Douglas to oust Lord Robert Clifford’s English garrison from his castle, all using the trickery and psychological warfare for which James became famous. The peril of holding the Douglas Castle would eventually earn it the moniker of “Castle Dangerous,” immortalized in the fictional account of Sir James’s third attack by Sir Walter Scott in Tales of My Landlord.
This third attack is what I have recounted in The Knight with the garrison tempted from behind the safety of their walls by the peasants carrying hay, and the English captain who died with a letter from his sweetheart, who promised to marry him if he could hold the castle for a year. James was allegedly moved by the letter and permitted the prisoners to return to England, after which he reputedly destroyed the castle to prevent the English from garrisoning it later—an important part of the Bruce warfare that continued the scorched earth policy of William Wallace.
The feud between Clifford and Douglas would last for a century. You can read more about Clifford, Boyd, and Douglas in The Raider.
The account of the trickery involved in taking of Linlithgow Castle with the help of the local man “Binny” is also taken up by Sir Walter Scott in his Tales of a Grandfather, as is James’s taking of Roxburgh Castle, which will be featured in book #11 of the Highland Guard Series. There is some disagreement as to the date of the fall of Linlithgow, though some historians claim it happened as late as 1313.
The English held about forty Scottish castles in 1311, of which nine or so were taken back by Bruce during this time, many by Douglas or Randolph.
James’s rivalry with Randolph was legendary. After Randolph’s defection to the English, which was featured in The Hawk, James captured him and brought him back into the fold. Whether the rivalry was a friendly one, I can only speculate, but it seems probable. The two men are so often mentioned together, and indeed in the Act of Settlement of 1318, Moray (Randolph) is appointed regent in the event of Bruce’s death, with Douglas named as the successor in the event of Moray’s death.
There is also some disagreement about when Sir James was knighted, with some historians saying that it wasn’t until the eve of Bannockburn in 1314, which seems way too late in James’s military career. It could be that at Bannockburn he was actually made a “knight banneret,” elevated from knight bachelor, which basically meant that he could lead men under his own banner in war.
In The Knight, when James offers to follow Bruce into death, I am alluding to a future event that would become one of his most famous deeds. On his deathbed, Bruce asked James to carry his heart to the Holy Land. The loyal James of course agreed, wearing the king’s heart in a casket around his neck. Unfortunately James was killed in dramatic fashion in a siege before he could fulfill his quest. Bruce’s heart and James’s bones were returned to Scotland, the former to be interred at Melrose and the latter at St. Bride’s Chapel in Douglas.
It’s always fun when I come across physical description tidbits, and the lack of scars on James’s face is one of them.
As always, you can find pictures of some of the places mentioned in The Knight and more information on my website: www.monicamccarty.com
Don’t miss the other books in Monica’s New York Times & USA Today bestselling Highland Guard Series!
THE CHIEF
THE HAWK
THE RANGER
THE VIPER
THE SAINT
THE RECRUIT
THE HUNTER
THE RAIDER (coming February 2014) [link]
***
Please continue on to read an excerpt from the next book in Monica’s bestselling Highland Guard series…
Excer
pt from THE RAIDER
After consolidating his gains against the enemy English, King Robert the Bruce of Scotland sends his best soldiers to fortify the lawless borders. These legendary warriors of the Highland Guard let nothing come before king and country—except the calling of their heart.
Of all Bruce’s elite warriors, Robert “Raider” Boyd is the most formidable. A true patriot whose bare hands are a deadly weapon, Robbie is the fiercest enforcer of the Guard. His hatred of the English has been honed to a razor sharp edge. But vengeance proves bittersweet when his enemy’s beautiful sister falls into his hands and he finds himself fighting temptation—a battle he badly wants to lose.
Lady Rosalin Clifford barely recognizes the rebel prisoner she saved from execution six years ago. Though her girlish ideals for fairness have matured into a passion for justice, Rosalin believes she betrayed her brother when she helped this dangerous man escape. Now, her traitorous act has as come back to haunt her. But she can’t deny the longing this tormented warrior ignites in her, or deny the passion that turns sworn enemies into lovers. But is the gentle love of a true English Rose enough to free Scotland’s most brutal warrior from a path of vengeance—before it’s too late?
An Excerpt from Prologue…
Kildrummy Castle, Scottish Highlands, October 1306
Killed? Rosalin nearly choked on a bit of beef.
“Are you all right?” her brother asked, leaning over to pat her on the back.
After a burst of coughing, she took a sip of sweetened wine and nodded. “I’m fine.” Seeing his concern, she managed a smile. “Really. I’m sorry, for the disturbance. You were saying something about the prisoners?”
The Knight Page 13
