The Rock Read online

  The ever-chivalrous knight gave a short bow of his head. “It is I who would be honored, Lady Isabel. Your cousin did not exaggerate your talent, you have a beautiful voice.”

  It was simply stated without his usual grandiosity.

  Izzie seemed taken aback, whether from the compliment or from the sincerity with which it was given, Elizabeth couldn’t tell.

  Truth be told, Elizabeth had been grateful for the distraction they provided. Though her visits to almshouses and lazar houses were important to her, they could sometimes be difficult, evoking memories that she would rather forget of how close she came to one herself. She’d felt the cold shadow of memory before Randolph and Izzie’s war of song had reminded her of where she was.

  They continued down the wynd, proceeding down the high street to the abbey located at the bottom end. The morning mist had yet to lift off the hills to the east, and although the day was off to a cool start (she and Isabel had both worn their warmest fur-lined cloaks), she sensed it was going to be another beautiful day. At this time of year, anything that didn’t involve ice, snow, or rain was reason for celebration.

  Once through the gate, they paused opposite the massive facade of the abbey entrance. She turned to Randolph. “Will you be able to join us in the refectory to break your fast, my lord?”

  The first meal of the day was eliminated during Lent except for on Sundays.

  He shook his head. “I wish I could, but I must return to the castle to see whether any progress has been made.”

  “Progress?” Izzie repeated with a frown. “At night? Do the English like to parley in the dark, my lord?”

  Randolph’s smile turned brittle. The détente between them was apparently already at an end. “I meant in general,” he said dismissively. But Elizabeth sensed rather the opposite. Did they have something planned at night? An attack on the castle perhaps? But given what he’d said before, it didn’t seem likely. “My uncle will be waiting—” He stopped suddenly, frowning. “That’s strange.”

  “What’s strange?” Elizabeth asked.

  “He should be at camp. Excuse me for a moment.”

  Both women turned as Randolph started off in the direction of the gate. It was then that Elizabeth saw the man who’d caught his attention: Thom.

  Her heart jumped, obviously having not quite recovered from yesterday’s overworking.

  She hadn’t thought to see him so soon. He’d seemed eager to be rid of her, marching her down the hill and watching stoically from the trees as she made her way safely through the gate. He hadn’t even waved; she’d looked.

  They’d said little on the way back down the hill. Thom once again wore that blank look he’d perfected in his youth when facing an angry Jamie, and Elizabeth had been, well, angry. At herself, at him, maybe it didn’t matter.

  When she thought about how she’d touched him . . .

  She didn’t think about that—couldn’t think about that—especially standing outside an abbey with her soon-to-be betrothed only a few feet away.

  Don’t lie to yourself . . .

  Her mouth pursed at the memory of the challenge he’d tossed down at her feet like a gauntlet. He had a lot of nerve, thinking he knew her better than she knew herself. Elizabeth knew exactly how she felt. She cared for him—deeply—and wanted him—irrationally—but she did not love him. At least not in the way he meant.

  She wasn’t Joanna. She didn’t think with her heart. She was far too practical to fall in love with someone she could never marry. She’d been exiled from society and treated like a leper once before; she would not go through that again—at least not willingly. She had a secure future in her grasp, she wasn’t about to let it go.

  So what if she dreamed about the way he kissed her and touched her, and wanted him to do it again? It didn’t change anything. And there was nothing to say she wouldn’t feel the same way about Randolph . . . in time.

  But how long will it take? Shouldn’t there be at least a tiny spark by now?

  “I wonder what they are talking about?” Izzie said thoughtfully. “What exactly is it that MacGowan does in Bruce’s army?”

  Elizabeth was wondering the same thing herself as she watched the two men converse intently. “Jamie said the king had some special missions for him in mind.”

  “And those missions involve Randolph?” Izzie made a face. “Makes things rather awkward, doesn’t it?”

  Elizabeth stared blankly at her cousin. “Why would it be awkward?”

  The implicit warning didn’t deter her cousin one bit. Izzie laughed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, I don’t know, like maybe having the man you claim you don’t want show up to see you right under the nose of the man you say you do?”

  “I’m sure Thom isn’t here to see me,” she said primly, but her cheeks were blazing.

  What if he was? Would he be so bold (and foolish!) as to pursue her right—as her cousin had said—under Randolph’s nose? Not to mention her brother’s. Surely he would be more circumspect?

  “Don’t look now,” Izzie whispered out of the side of her mouth. “Your Thom and Sir-Too-Good-to-Be-True are headed this way. But don’t worry, I’m sure this won’t be awkward at all.”

  Right now, Elizabeth was finding it difficult to remember why she usually found her cousin’s dry sense of humor so amusing.

  Seeing the men walking toward them made her heart start to race. Despite the cool air, she could feel a distinct sheen of perspiration on her brow. She had nothing to feel guilty about—which didn’t explain the frantic drumming of her pulse.

  If only Thom wasn’t so handsome. She couldn’t seem to look away.

  He met her gaze and nodded. “Lady Elizabeth, Lady Isabel.”

  Before she could catch her breath to respond he moved off. Apparently he wasn’t here to see her. She was relieved. Of course she was. It only felt like disappointment.

  “Is everything all right, my lord?” Izzie asked Randolph, covering the admittedly awkward moment, as Elizabeth stood there with her mouth agape.

  “Fine. I thought MacGowan might have been here for me, but it seems he is on a personal mission.”

  “He is?” Elizabeth asked in what was intended to sound disinterested but came out as something of a squeak.

  Personal as in a woman? There were many staying at the guesthouse—most of them were the wives of the men in Bruce’s retinue, but there were a handful of unmarried ones—like Lady Mary—as well.

  “Aye,” Randolph said. “To see Douglas’s wife.” Joanna? “But I have some good news. It seems there is no reason for me to rush back, so I will be happy to join you for the meal after all. Assuming the invitation is still open?”

  The roguish smile and charming twinkle in his eye were undeniably calculated to make her knees weak. But hers didn’t shake—not even a little.

  Joanna?

  “My lady?” he asked.

  Elizabeth snapped back to attention. “Of course the invitation is open, my lord. We are delighted. Aren’t we, Izzie?”

  “Thrilled,” her cousin said, her tone making Randolph’s mouth tighten.

  He ignored Isabel for most of the meal, which was rather inconvenient, as it forced Elizabeth to do more of the talking than she would have liked.

  It was strange. She could talk for hours about Paris with Thom, who’d never been there, but with Randolph, who’d spent time there over the years, she struggled to keep the conversation going. Only when they returned to the subject of music did she finally have a reprieve. Izzie couldn’t resist interjecting her opinion, and an enthusiastic discourse—which sounded better than argument—between her and Randolph followed, for which Elizabeth was blissfully excluded.

  Her gaze, however, kept sliding to the door.

  When the short meal finally ended and Joanna still had not appeared, Elizabeth gave up any pretense of not wondering why and went to find her sister-in-law.

  Thom’s plan worked better than anticipated. He knew Elizabeth wouldn’t be able to resist seek