James

by L. L. Muir

  James woke to the sad fact that he’d slept for only an hour or two before his body clock woke him at 5 a.m. For safety sake, and considering the snakes that would be on hand, he donned the scratchy socks and hid the threadbare ones, along with both the black and pink underwear, behind a loose stone in his private chamber. A loose stone he had no intention of repairing.

  He was none too cheerful when he left his room, but who did he need to be cheerful for? Stephan?

  After snatching a scone from the kitchens, he walked the entire curtain wall before coming to a stop above the gate. Stephan and his men were standing impatiently not five feet away, so when James ordered his men to open the doors, the laird had to retreat to get out of the way.

  James hoped it was only the first of many compromises the man would be forced to make that morning.

  Tables had been arranged in the bailey with pots of porridge and bowls at the ready. He wasn’t about to invite them all inside his keep for a good look around. The less they knew about the interior, the more advantaged James would be when the man set his cap on taking Todlaw away from him.

  Oh, it would happen. And judging by the way the man’s eyes darted back and forth, it would happen very soon. So, it was a good thing Phoebe was gone, or the bastard would fight twice as hard just to have her included in the spoils.

  In fact...

  A large heavy stone seemed to drop into his stomach when he realized Stephan may have been a step ahead of him. What if he’d been watching for the construction on the wall to be completed? What if sending the two women ahead was his excuse to get inside? What if he’d planned to make his move that day?

  I’ve been such a fool!

  He had to spread word to his men to brace for attack, but until he could do that, he had to stall the enemy. So he smiled at the laird still seated on his horse. “I insist ye allow yer men to break their fast, yer lairdship.” He gestured to the tables. The blue clad soldiers looked to their leader for permission, but Stephan gave his head one, sharp jerk to the side. No one moved.

  “I would invite ye inside, my lord, but I cannot.” No excuses. Just no. Like his former employer taught him, he didn’t owe anyone an explanation. “So there is nothing left but to hear what ye’ve come to say.”

  Stephan sneered. “I’ve come for that rich reward ye promised to the man who supplied ye with yer chosen bride. That would be me. Since ye failed to return my candidates, I assume ye mean to keep them.”

  James nodded. “I will pay ye the usual bride price for Spa Jarlgaard, for one of my men wants her.”

  “Only one? Are the rest of them blind?” Stephan laughed lewdly and his men joined in.

  James was happy to interrupt. “And that other woman...left.”

  The man snorted. “Am I to simply take yer word that she is not here?” He shouted so that everyone would hear. “At the very least, ye will allow some of my men to check inside yer keep for her. That is, if ye’re certain it won’t fall down upon their heads!” He laughed again. No one wearing Duncan brown so much as smiled, and James realized his men were already alert to the probability of an attack. Even those who pretended to go on about their business were watching and ready.

  He grinned at the laird just to make him wonder. “None of yer men will be allowed inside. And yes, I expect ye to take me at my word.”

  “My men say she was here just last eve. And since we all slept outside yer gates, and she did not join us, she must be here somewhere. So, I propose ye either let us inside to see for ourselves, or ye forfeit this rich treasure ye’ve promised. With that out of the way, ye can marry a mule for all I care.”

  Movement caught James’ eye and he looked up to see the guard at the top of the tower signaling. He waved a golden yellow flag that always sent the people of Todlaw into a tizzy. And considering the frantic waving of that flag, James suspected his unexpected visitor was close.

  “You’ll have to excuse me, laird. I have other guests to attend to.” He headed for the steps and bellowed. “Open the gate!”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  King Robert had reached the end of the road when James clamored to the top of the wall. The gates swung open beneath him, but the king remained where he was, staring down the length of the curtain wall to his right, then to his left, then to his right again. Eventually, he looked up at the keep tower, then at James, who always seemed to feel small when Robert the Bruce deigned to look his way.

  “Yer majesty.” James bowed as he said it, and waited for the man to speak or he would stay bent all day if he must.

  “Ye’ve done verra well, James Duncan. Shall I come in? Or do I have enemies within yer grand walls?”

  James looked over his shoulder to see laird Stephan standing on the wall steps behind him, frozen in indecision. His eyes were wide and pleading, apparently realizing James had the power to paint him in a poor light if he wanted to.

  “My neighbor, Laird Stephan, and twenty-eight of his men are just inside, sire. I only assume they are yers to command.”

  Stephen lowered his brow, then slipped a smile onto his lips as he joined James over the gate. He opened his mouth to speak his usual nonsense, but James grabbed the front of his tunic and forced him to bend.

  The king bit his lips together in a poor attempt to hide his amusement, but after a minute of torturing the man, Robert let him off the hook. “Stephan, is it?”

  James released Stephan’s tunic and turned away to hide his grin. The king knew who his neighbor was, but pretending he didn’t would be a slap in the face to a man so ambitious.

  Stephan straightened. “Aye, Yer Majesty.”

  “Until I can get a good look at you, trot yer men out here.”

  “Aye, Yer Majesty.” Stephen hurried to do the man’s bidding.

  Robert and James exchanged a nod. To Robert’s right, Stout Duncan sat atop a tall horse with his legs pushed out straight as he usually did, as if constantly bracing for impact. The man had an odd way of sitting a horse, but no amount of trying could change that.

  “Stout Duncan!” James held out his arms like he could embrace the world. “It is high time ye came to visit yer bastard child!”

  Everyone laughed at the old joke, including the king. When the laird of Clan Duncan had taken James in so long ago, he’d treated him like a son. And James suspected the rumor that he was the short man’s illegitimate child was spread by the chieftain himself. For if there was one thing that could console a short man, it was having tall offspring. And from then on, James set aside the Ferguson name in favor of his new clan family.

  As soon as all the blue uniforms had washed out through the gate, in flooded a never-ending stream of golden yellow tunics, flags, and caparison-covered horses, all bearing red lions rampant. Soon after, King Robert had enjoyed a hasty tour of the place and marched up to the dais to take the laird’s seat there. James couldn’t hide his glee over the honor of having the King of Scotland in his home, praising his ingenuity, sitting on his dais.

  With the tour complete, Stephan was allowed inside the hall. There was no reasonable excuse left, and James couldn’t insult a guest in front of the king. But two Duncan men escorted the man in and waited to escort him out again. His neighbor’s ego didn’t allow him to notice, but he did look smaller without any of his men at his back.

  The king waved James forward. “I met some friends of yers last night.”

  “Oh?” Considering he would have come from the North, James assumed he was speaking of Phoebe and the Muirs.

  “Aye, a most entertaining bunch, with two sets of twins among them.”

  James nodded carefully. “I ken just who ye mean, sire.”

  “The young woman in the company was rather excited about something. She couldn’t explain herself well, but she did ask me to tell ye that she will be going home after all, that she remembered a certain promise that would allow her to go back. It had something to do with the soft ware she told ye about. She said ye’d understand what she meant.”

/>   James sucked in a deep, slow breath to prove that he could still manage to do so, because he couldn’t fall to pieces in front of the king. He had no idea what promise Phoebe might have remembered, but he hoped that Wickham Muir would be coming for her sooner rather than later. Stephan was still a threat to her, especially if the conversation with Robert piqued his curiosity enough to go investigate, especially since a young woman had been mentioned.

  It would have killed him to wonder, day and night, whether she’d gone back, or whether she was still on the Black Isle, still within his reach. Much like the bag of treasure buried at Loch Tay, tempting him, haunting him…

  The king waited for an explanation, but James resisted. “I am pleased to hear it, sire. The woman will be safer once she is home.”

  Robert frowned. “I am surprised you don’t look more pleased. But then again, the woman looked miserable as well. Pleased, but definitely miserable. Isn’t it interesting that I find you in the same strange state?”

  James could barely summon a smile. “Aye, yer majesty.”

  The king turned to Stephan. “Pray tell, have ye also come to admire Stout Duncan’s new castle?”

  The laird sputtered. “Stout Duncan’s? Not James’?”

  Robert shook his head. “Technically, I suppose it is mine, for housing and training my personal guards. But surely ye kenned how indispensable all the Duncans are to me?” His nod in James’ direction was a clear order that neither he, nor the keep, was to be messed with.

  Stephan bowed low, probably to hide his outrage. “Of course, Yer Majesty.”

  The king had mischief in his eyes. “So. No business between ye? Then ye’ll be on yer way?”

  The fool raised his hand. “There is a matter—”

  “What is it? Allow me to be of some help while I am here.”

  Stephan then explained why James owed him a boon. Robert looked at James expectantly. But James would not lie, even to pull one over on Stephan the Slug.

  “He did send two women, sire. And for one, I will pay the bride price on behalf of my soldier who claimed her. But for the other, she left my protection yesterday.”

  The kind nodded. “I see. And ye aided her in leaving?”

  “I did, sire.”

  “But ye don’t wish to wed this woman?”

  “I had determined not to.”

  Robert frowned. “But do ye wish to?”

  James swallowed. “Aye, sire.”

  “Then I suggest ye give the man this treasure he demands.”

  “A rich treasure,” Stephan corrected.

  “Auch, aye. Something very dear, James. Think now. Besides the woman, what do ye hold most dear?”

  “This keep, sire. But it is not mine to give.”

  “Just so. But let us think. What is the next thing ye are most keen on. Come now. Ye must know.”

  From the corner of his eye, James noticed Stout Duncan gesturing none too casually at the wall with his thumb. But nothing of worth hung there. On the outside, the north road. But soon, the second tower would be erected.

  The second tower?

  “My king. I beg ye. Do not ask me to give up what is the next most dear to me. Everyone kens that it is not yet—”

  “I will not hear excuses, James. I order ye to give this great treasure to Laird Stephan, as was his understanding. He deserves to have it presented to him now.”

  “Now?”

  James felt foolish for being so slow to catch on to the joke, but he pretended not to be happy about the king’s high handedness as he strode to the north wall and gestured for Stephan to follow. “As ordered by King Robert of Scotland, I hereby present to ye, the second tower of Todlaw Keep.”

  Stephan’s pleasure couldn’t be contained. His eyes bulged, his face flushed, and a grin twisted his face in a way James, unfortunately, might never be able to forget. “The second tower!” He frowned slightly. “Do ye mean to say we’ll be expected to share Todlaw?”

  James tried not to smile and provoke the man. The insult headed his way was a whopper, and the snake would be unpredictable from that alone.

  “Nay, Laird Stephen. Ye can take it with ye.” He pulled the covering from a hole the size of a shield, then motioned for his neighbor to take a look.

  Stephan poked his face into the deep window, but James could still see his face. He was excited, then confused, then furious. “It is a mountain of stone!”

  “Oh, aye. It is. But the king insists ye have it now. So... I reckon it will take ye half a year to haul it to yer fort, depending on how many men and wagons ye’re willing to dedicate to the task. And my men will be happy to show ye how to grout them together. Ye’ll have the stone keep a man like ye deserves, and in no time at all. Perhaps ye can offer to feed anyone willing to bring ye a bag of sand, or quarry some stones. As ye can see, it has worked well for Clan Duncan.

  Though he resisted the urge to laugh, James was suddenly light headed. Or was it light-hearted? He was overcome with relief that the second tower was no longer his concern. The future seemed as open as a blank page. He could do anything at all, though there was only one thing he really wanted.

  After Stephan stormed out of the hall, James hurried over to the king. “Sire. I ask a favor.”

  “Another?”

  “Aye. I thank ye for handling my neighbor problem. But now... I ask that if anything were to happen to me, if I was never heard of again, that ye’d allow Flanders to manage Todlaw until young Robert Duncan is old enough to take over.”

  “Done.”

  James stepped to the side and addressed the man who had given him so much in this short medieval life. “And if ye never see me again, know that I loved ye like a father, aye? Be good to my brothers.” Stout Duncan laughed and nodded, then rubbed his nose and turned away.

  “I understand.” King Robert’s voice stopped him on his way to the archway. “Ye see, I have cousins who are twins—and also of the Muir clan. I believe everyone should have a pair.” He chuckled, then leaned forward in the large chair that James hoped he would never see again. “We shared a fire last evening with yer friends. This morning, I thought it only right I give them horses to speed them on their way.”

  “Horses, sire?” That meant it would take some time to catch up. He only hoped he could do so before Wickham came!

  Robert’s face pinched with sudden concern. “But alas, we could only spare the two…” Then the man chuckled. “I assume ye intend to go now—”

  “To kidnap my wife? Aye, Majesty.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The sun had just reached its zenith when Phoebe and the others struck out across flatter land. The Cairngorm mountains, and Todlaw, were behind her. And since she wouldn’t be going back, at least in the current century, the stone keep and its laird might as well be 700 years away.

  Her stomach clenched again, just like it had a thousand times that morning, every time she remembered the last look James had given her on the roof. He wasn’t going to ask her to stay. He’d obviously felt bad about sending her away, but what else could he have done?

  She had to stop thinking about it. Between trying to stay on the horse, and trying not to cry, her stomach muscles were mush. She felt like she’d been in the ring with a bare-fisted fighter and she just couldn’t take much more. It would have been nice to fight back, or to fight anyone, but she didn’t have the energy.

  And James had let her know, with a look, he didn’t want her fighting for him, either.

  She couldn’t force him to love her. There were moments when she was sure he sensed the same connection she did, but those moments passed and they’d been right back where they’d started from. He’d built his dream and she couldn’t expect him to leave it for her. But she might have stayed…

  No. It was better this way. She had to go home. She would go home. And no matter how much it might hurt, she would have to take those Gaelic classes. She had to keep that one promise. And when she got really good at it, when it became second nature, she
was never, ever going to speak it again, even if she had to move to France just so she wouldn’t see Gaelic signs anymore.

  Their destination was Muirsglen. If James didn’t send more horses so they all could ride, it would take them another two or three days to get there. But it wouldn’t matter to Wickham. He could find her anywhere. She prayed he would come soon, so she wouldn’t make a fool of herself and go running back to Todlaw.

  Besides, she didn’t want to wait until she was old and gray before she had her next decent meal.

  One of the Muir brothers, Thomas, held up his hand and cocked his head. “Riders,” he said. “Many.”

  Flanders took one look at the other man’s face and told her and the sisters to dismount. Then they all started running for the trees. Phoebe thought of Stephan immediately. Would Wickham be able to find her in a dark longhouse?

  As the sound of horses grew near, they hunkered down between the horses, exchanging worried glances while they listened. Then suddenly, the Muirs laughed and stood. “No danger,” Thomas said. “Our horses have arrived.” He and the others headed back toward the road, but Phoebe couldn’t get her feet to move. She just wanted a little privacy so she could fall apart. Was that too much to ask?

  “James!”

  Flanders’ shout cut into her chest like a meat cleaver. She couldn’t breathe. If the Viking wasn’t teasing her, James had brought the horses himself. But she couldn’t face him again! One more look like the last one and she’d do something embarrassing, like latch onto his leg and refuse to let go while she begged him to take her back with him.

  How pathetic! What in the world had happened to her?

  Then she remembered what one of the Muir sisters had said about her true love being some guy going out of his mind trying to find her. So she had her answer. Love was driving her out of her mind.