Outlaw King Read online

  “What? No!” Elizabeth reached through the bars to grasp Lillianna’s scraped hands. Tears slid down her face, just as they did her cousin’s. Elizabeth gave Lillianna a gentle squeeze and quickly told her of what her father had demanded. As she spoke, Lillianna’s grip on Elizabeth increased until her hands ached from her cousin’s strong grasp.

  “Don’t do it, Elizabeth,” Lillianna said, her voice harsh.

  “What?” She gawked at her cousin. “That’s mad,” she finally managed to say. “I’ll not leave you to…to this!” She pulled one hand away from her cousin and swept it around the small, dingy, dark space. “Father will let you die here if I don’t do as he says.”

  “Listen to me,” Lillianna hissed, jerking Elizabeth closer with the one hand she was still holding. “You cannot topple a nation for me! That’s what you’re doing, don’t you see? I’m not worth Scotland not gaining its freedom.”

  “You are!” Elizabeth snapped. Lillianna was the only person in her life who truly understood who she was and loved her for it. “Besides,” she said, hearing the slight note of hysteria in her voice, “I’m not toppling a nation. Robert—”

  “Since when do you call Robert the Bruce, Robert?” Lillianna asked, a bit of her humor showing, despite her dire circumstances.

  Elizabeth had told Lillianna of her encounter with Robert in the woods in Ireland, but she had never revealed all the intimate details of their conversation because it had seemed, well, just that—intimate. “The queen instructed me to,” she said, which was not entirely a lie. “Robert is here to pay homage to Edward. He wants no more war for his people. He told me so personally.”

  “Then he lied!” Lillianna said in a low, furious tone. “Robert the Bruce would never pay homage to Edward willingly. He must have another plan.”

  Elizabeth frowned at her cousin. “You speak as if you know him personally.”

  “I do! In a way,” she said. “My mother being Scottish, spoke quite vehemently about Robert the Bruce’s honor. It seems the MacLeod clan, my mother’s clan, was in favor of the Bruce claim to the throne, and Robert personally held much respect from them. He came to the aid of one of the MacLeod laird’s sister when a rival clan member kidnapped her. He rescued her and returned her to the MacLeod laird.”

  The revelation moved Elizabeth. “Yes,” she said, “He is honorable. He takes shame upon himself by coming here to bend the knee in an effort to save his people from further death and hunger.”

  Lillianna shook her head. “You are not Scottish; therefore, you cannot understand how a Scot thinks. Nothing would be worse than to bend the knee to Edward. If Bruce is truly here to pay homage and he has no other plan, then it’s for greed.” She spat on the ground, then offered a shaky smile. “My mother once told me that MacLeod men do that when they speak of a man without honor.”

  Elizabeth was not prepared to believe Robert had no honor and was here for purely selfish reasons. “It matters little why he is here, except to my father and the king. But I must seduce him and learn what I can, or my father will have you killed.”

  Lillianna eyed Elizabeth. “And if you discover he has a plot that involves continuing the rebellion? What will you do? You cannot put me, one person, above a whole nation.”

  “I cannot think about that tonight,” Elizabeth said, trying to block out the worry already gnawing at her.

  “You have to!” Lillianna insisted. “I would gladly die to aid in freeing the Scottish people from English rule, but I’d rather not die for Bruce to regain wealth and titles.”

  Elizabeth grasped at Lillianna and squeezed her arm. “I prefer you stay alive in either scenario, and the only way to ensure that is to do as my father and the king bid.” But an idea was forming in her mind. When Lillianna opened her mouth to argue, Elizabeth rushed to explain. “If I discover that Robert has a plan for the rebellion that involves him being here, I will approach him, tell him everything, and beg him to help us.”

  Lillianna nodded. “A sound plan.”

  “If I discover he is here for greed, well”—her stomach knotted—“I suppose I will not have to feel horrid about seducing him. I’ll only have to feel horrid if I end up married to a man I have no respect for.” She gave a bitter laugh.

  “I am so very sorry, Elizabeth.”

  “I am too,” Elizabeth said, suddenly so weary it felt like great weights were pulling on her eyelids. “I wish we had escaped that day in the woods.”

  Lillianna smiled brightly, though Elizabeth could see the lines of strain in her face, showing it was forced. “He is a handsome man, at least,” Lillianna said.

  “Yes, he is that,” Elizabeth answered, a perfect image of him filling her mind. “I heard my father say it’s Robert the king truly fears, not his father. I suppose, if he had a plan and all went accordingly, he could one day be king of Scotland.”

  “How would you feel about such a thing? To be queen of a land, wife of a man, your father and your godfather despise?”

  “Proud,” Elizabeth said instantly, and to her own shock. “If he was an honorable and good king and gave his people the freedom they deserved. Including,” she said emphatically, “the women.”

  Robert escaped the king and queen shortly after watching Elizabeth leave the great hall with one of her father’s men. Luckily, the queen was weary, and the king had excused them both. Robert searched the room for Angus, and when he did not find him, made his way through the court guests and toward the stairs to the bedchambers. Not only did he wish to speak with Angus but exhaustion weighed on him from their travels, as well as from his verbal sparring with the king and Elizabeth. He could not rid his mind of how devastated Elizabeth had looked for him and his people when he had told her he was there to submit to the king’s peace. She was a truly compassionate woman; yet, she had also admitted that she was but a puppet for the king and her father. How much of one he did not know.

  He strode through the corridors, the tapping footsteps of the guards tasked with following him echoing behind him. Angus’s bedchamber was on the north side of the castle while Robert’s chambers were to the south. Stopping in front of Angus’s chamber, Robert raised his hand to knock, but the door swung open and the Scot filled the doorway.

  He motioned Robert in while glaring fiercely at the two guards who stood behind Robert. When one of them moved as if to come into the chamber, Angus drew a dagger and grinned. “Ye’ll have to go through me to enter my chamber.”

  Robert fought a smile. Their swords had been confiscated when they had first entered the castle, but Angus, as well as Robert, had many well-placed daggers upon his body. “I’d nae attempt to fight him,” Robert warned the guards. “He’s nae killed an Englishman in a fortnight, and he gets right twitchy to do so after such a long period.” The guards exchanged a wary glance, which amused Robert further. His lighthearted moments were few and far between.

  Angus must have felt the same need for levity for he snarled, bared his teeth, and raised his dagger. “Which one of ye wishes to fight?”

  “’Tis lucky for you,” the heavier of the two men said, “that the king commands us to simply guard you, not fight you.”

  “If ever ye wish to disobey yer king on that order, it will be my pleasure to kill ye,” Angus growled, stepped back, and kicked the door shut with a loud bang.

  “Well now, that was a bit o’ fun.” Angus faced Robert and smiled. “How did ye fare with the king and the lass?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

  And with those words, all the levity Robert had felt disappeared. He scrubbed a hand across his face, then met his friend’s level gaze. “The king is easier to read than the lass,” Robert admitted, making sure to keep his own voice soft.

  Angus chuckled. “Robbie, that is the way of lasses. Did nae ye ken that with yer first wife?”

  Robert scowled. “I did nae care to understand her, to my shame.”

  Angus reached into his sporran, pulled out a flagon, and proceeded to take a long drink. He swiped his ha
nd across his mouth when he was done and handed it to Robert, who took it and did the same. Angus put the flagon away and eyed Robert. “Nae even ye, with yer iron will, could make yerself feel what simply is nae there. I saw ye with Isabella, and ye were kind.”

  Robert nodded. Kindness did not make a real marriage. There had been no passion, not like what he felt when Elizabeth was near.

  “The king is as I thought,” Robert said, making his way to a chair and sitting heavily in it. Weariness burrowed into him. He quickly told Angus everything the king had said to him in the great hall on the dais.

  Angus snorted as he sat in the chair beside Robert. “Ye ken the king lies.”

  “Aye.” He tugged a hand through his hair as he thought.

  “What of the lass?” Angus asked, his sharp, assessing eyes unwavering from Robert.

  “She admitted to being a puppet for her father and the king.”

  Angus’s eyebrows arched high. “Did she now? How did ye illicit such a confession?”

  Robert shrugged, even as thoughts of their conversation flooded him with confusion. “I simply asked her.”

  Angus’s eyebrows dipped together now. “By the brooding look on yer face, I’d say things with the lass are nae so simple.”

  Robert sighed. “I believe she has true compassion for the plight of our people.”

  Angus answered with a noncommittal snort, which was not unexpected but still frustrated Robert. It was just like his friend to be so skeptical, and normally, it would be like Robert, too, but for some reason, where Elizabeth was concerned, he did not want to be as guarded as he should be. “I told her I was here to make peace for the sake of my starving, homeless people.”

  Angus grinned. “Well, now, that’s the truth of it in a twisted sort o’ way.” The smile faded from his face and a serious expression settled there. “Ye must be focused.”

  “I know,” Robert replied, understanding Angus was worried that Elizabeth would steal his concentration.

  “There kenning and then there’s kenning,” Angus said, his words sharp. “If lust has a hold of ye—”

  “Do nae fash yerself,” Robert growled.

  “Let me finish,” Angus snapped, to which Robert jerked his head in acquiescence. “Mayhap ye should let the lass seduce ye, if that is their plan, but it is ye who will discover whatever secrets she holds of Edward’s plans for his next invasion.”

  “The notion did come to me,” Robert admitted, standing suddenly as an image of Elizabeth filled his mind. The thought of using her in that way, though she may well be intending to do the same to him, did not sit well in his gut. He paced the length of the bedchamber as he attempted to put logic to the differing emotions Elizabeth stirred in him. She had admitted to being a puppet but also to wanting to dance with him. He saw real compassion on her face. “I know her father and the king are foes, truly, but Elizabeth…” He drew his attention back to Angus. “I can nae forget what she did for Moray’s men or how she warned me in the woods of her brother’s presence. Nor how she willingly admitted in the great hall that she was being used by the king and her father. I can nae say in certainty that she is truly my foe.” Which meant he was unsure how to proceed with her.

  “And if ye could?”

  Robert shrugged. “Then perhaps it would nae be so terrible to get to know the woman.”

  Angus nodded. “Perhaps ye will come to ken that anyway. We have some time here at court, aye?”

  “Aye,” Robert confirmed. It would take time for Wallace to return from France and for them to gather all their men at the many key places to strike at Edward when the temporary peace was expired.

  Angus stood and stretched. “Ye ken Edward will demand ye bend the knee soon.”

  Robert nodded. “As I’ve said before, an oath given under duress is nae a true oath. I will do what I must to save Scotland.”

  “What would ye have me to do while we are here?” Angus asked.

  “Keep yer eyes and ears open to learn as much as ye can.”

  “Mayhap I can learn something about the de Burgh lass from Gwendolyn Fraser,” Angus said with a grin. Gwendolyn was a bonny lady-in-waiting to the queen.

  Robert laughed. “Would that nae break yer rule to nae ever trust a lovely lass?” Robert asked, referring to one of three rules Angus made well known he lived by.

  “Well”—Angus kicked off his boots—“I did nae say I trusted her. Just that I could possibly learn something from her. She is lovely, so I do nae trust her, just as I do nae trust yer lady, who is even lovelier.”

  Robert snorted. “Elizabeth is nae my lady, Angus. Ye do nae have to fear that ye will anger me if ye do nae think she is the bonniest lass in Christendom.”

  “Och, ye ken I dunnae give a care about offending ye. Lady Elizabeth is so fair it makes my wee eyes hurt to gaze at her and sets an alarm off in my head. Still, I’ll rather enjoy keeping an eye on her to see what I can learn.”

  “Mind ye that ye put only yer eyes on her, aye?”

  “Protective of a lass that is nae even yers, are ye?” Angus said lightly, yet his face was grave.

  Robert simply glared at Angus in response.

  Angus moved to the bed, lay back, kicked his legs out in front of him and crossed them, then bent and lifted his arms to cradle his head in his interlaced fingers. He closed one eye but left the other slit open to stare at Robert. “Tread with care, Robbie. The lass may be truly compassionate for our cause, but that dunnae mean she will nae do as the king bids, especially if he and her father are holding something over her to compel her.”

  Robert blinked, shocked and a bit concerned that the thought had not occurred to him. Already Elizabeth was distracting him. This game he played with her, the king, and her father was one where lives would be lost and kingdoms won. He could not afford to be unfocused.

  Chapter Six

  The next day, Gwendolyn strolled into the queen’s private chambers with a note in hand. Her gaze darted to Elizabeth so she felt quite sure the summons was for her. After reading the note, the queen looked up. Besides the queen’s swollen belly, her arms and face were gaunt. She was a fragile but kind woman, and Elizabeth knew she truly loved the king.

  The queen focused her attention on Elizabeth. “Edward commands you meet him in the garden. He wishes to speak with you.”

  Elizabeth’s stomach knotted, but she managed to say, “Of course.” She’d not expected to be summoned by her godfather. She had thought her own father would be communicating the king’s commands to her. She rose and passed the queen, and the other ladies in waiting, catching the gaze of Grace, a particularly nosy lady, intently on her. Elizabeth clenched her teeth and started out the door, and as she did, Gwendolyn fell into step beside her. Elizabeth frowned. It was not that she did not like Gwendolyn, truly—she barely knew the woman.

  “I thought ye might wish company on yer walk,” the woman said, settling her green gaze rather probingly on Elizabeth.

  “How kind of you,” Elizabeth murmured, suspicious. It seemed everyone in this court had ulterior motives.

  “I noticed ye dancing with Lord Carrick last night,” Gwendolyn said, her tone discernibly inquiring.

  “Do you mean Lord Bruce?” Elizabeth asked, purposely obtuse.

  Gwendolyn paused at the top of the stairs with her hand on the railing. She offered a knowing smile. “Have ye nae heard about his negotiations with the king this morning?”

  Elizabeth frowned. “No, I have been in the queen’s chambers all morning.”

  “It’s all the news, and my cousin Simon, who as ye ken is an advisor to the king, told me that Bruce negotiated the return of all his estates! So last night ye danced with a pauper, but today, dear Elizabeth”—Elizabeth startled as Gwendolyn grabbed her arm and entwined it with her own with a giggle—“ye may rejoice kenning ye have caught the eye of a wealthy lord!”

  The news was like a boulder in Elizabeth’s stomach. If Robert did not care for the wealth and was simply here to aid his people
, why then did he negotiate the return of his titles? Had he simply lied to her, and he was truly here for greed? She disentangled her arm from Gwendolyn and pressed her fingertips to her suddenly throbbing head.

  Gwendolyn frowned at her. “Ye do nae look at all happy, Elizabeth. Are ye nae thrilled that Bruce is rich beyond measure once more? Mayhap ye will become his wife!”

  Elizabeth flinched at Gwendolyn’s words. “I hardly know him,” she said, forming the response with cold lips. “If you will excuse me.”

  She did not wait for a reply. She turned away and rushed down the stairs, nearly tripping in her haste to get away from Gwendolyn. Elizabeth rounded the corner from the stairs to the corridor that led to the garden and came to a shuddering halt. God’s teeth! She leaned against the cool wall, her mind spinning. A draft blew in from the open door at the end of the corridor, and she could see a slash of blue sky from where she stood. A hawk soared past, and she swallowed hard. She would never be free like that hawk. The thought filled her with complete desperation. Her father and the king controlled her now, and they would wed her to Robert if it suited them, and she did not truly know what sort of man he was. Was Gwendolyn right about his intentions or had Robert been telling her the truth?

  She bit her lip, struggling to bring herself under control. Was he honorable or not? She stared down at her hands, which she had twined together. Would it be better if he was or wasn’t? If he was honorable and she told him all about Lillianna and he could not aid her, she would have to betray him by telling any secrets she had learned to save her cousin. And if he was not honorable, she would quite possibly end up wed to a man she despised.

  “Lady Elizabeth?”

  She blinked and was surprised to find Simon Fraser almost directly in front of her. She had not even heard his approach.

  His green eyes, very much the shape and shade of his cousin Gwendolyn’s, stared at her with concern. “I’m sorry if I surprised ye. The king sent me to find ye. He grows impatient for yer presence.”