The Knight(13)

But she didn’t mean it. She loved him too much.

Boyd’s eyes narrowed to hard slits. “Did this something have to do with a lass? I hear you have a sweetheart in the village.”

James tensed, his muscles bunching with readiness. “Leave it, Raider. It’s none of your business.”

“To hell it isn’t! We’re risking our damned hides to help you get the English out of your castle—again—and you are off on some lovers’ tryst?”

James met his anger head-on. “I didn’t ask for your help, you wanted to come. Now get the hell out of my way.”

For one long moment the two men squared off against each other, and it seemed as if they might come to blows. But Alex Seton, who hailed from Yorkshire and was the hate-all-things-English Boyd’s unlikely partner, stepped between them. “Leave Douglas be, Raider. No harm has been done. And he’s right—you wanted to be here as much as he did. You never miss the chance to tweak Clifford’s nose.”

“I’ll do a hell of a lot more than that, if I come face-to-face with the blackguard again,” Boyd said, uncharacteristically stepping back. Boyd had been born to brawl and he rarely backed off from a fight.

“If I don’t find him first,” Douglas said.

The familiar refrain immediately eased the tension between the two men. James and Boyd regularly prodded each other about who would be the first to meet their enemy on the battlefield. Clifford had earned James’s enmity by claiming his land and Boyd’s by nearly taking his life in prison.

“Aye, well, it’s the English who will be doing the catching if we aren’t careful. Too many people know of your presence in the area,” Boyd remarked. “What did you do, send out heralds?”

James smiled. “Not quite. But it can’t be helped; we’ll need the aid of some of the local men if this is to work. You need not fear they will betray me. This is not the first time they’ve been called to action.”

“Aye, but let’s hope it’s the last,” Boyd said.

James’s mouth curved. “Holding Douglas Castle is already the least popular, most feared post in the English army. When we’re done, I intend to make damn sure there is nothing left to hold or rebuild.”

Seton looked between James and Boyd, his expression lacking their intensity or eagerness for battle. Boyd and James might cross swords every now and then, but when it came to the English they were of one mind. The hatred and vengeance that drove them both, however, was distinctly lacking in Seton. His resolve as to what was needed to win this war was not as intense as the rest of the Highland Guard. He was clearly conflicted about their more “un-knightly” methods. Though when called upon he fought just as ruthlessly as the rest of them, the Englishman seemed an odd fit for the secret army of “brigands” as the English called them derisively. Even his war name of “Dragon” harkened to the tension—it was a jest on the Wyvern that was part of the Seton arms that would normally be worn on a knight’s tabard or surcoat.

“Then we should get on with it,” Seton said. “Let’s find the others and see if this plan of yours will work.”





CHAPTER FOUR





It had to work, James told himself. But by the time the men were in position, it was precariously close to dusk, and he knew that his delay with Joanna might have well cost him his chance to take the castle.

From their position in the forest east of the castle, Boyd glanced to the west where the sun had already begun to sink over the horizon. “Not much light left.” His eyes fell to James’s. “I hope to hell she was worth it.”

James clenched his jaw, biting back the angry retort. She was, but Boyd’s criticism was on the mark. Staying so long with Jo was irresponsible, and James knew it. But it wasn’t going to happen again. He wouldn’t let it. Joanna was making too many demands on him, interfering where she should not. He had to focus on what was important: restoring their honor by achieving greatness for himself and his family.

The Douglas name would never be disparaged again. By anyone.

Joanna would have to understand.

Boyd didn’t seem to expect a response, and James didn’t give him one. But every minute they waited for Seton to appear on the horizon felt like an eternity.

The English would be very wary of a trap after the two previous attacks, and luring them out from behind the safety of the castle walls even in the daylight was going to be difficult.

But James had taken the lessons of the Highland Guard and the outfoxing of the English at the Battle of Brander to heart. He had earned a reputation not only for the frenzy and surprise of his attacks, but also for the craftiness of his plans. The Black Douglas seemed to spring up out of nowhere, whether it was in the church by mingling among the English on Palm Sunday, as he’d done in the first attack against the castle, or driving off the castle cattle with a small party to encourage the English to follow, and then leading them into an ambush, as he’d done last time.