The Hawk (Highland Guard #2)(57)

The sharp little intake of air that greeted his bold declaration sent a hot thrill of anticipation shooting through him. It seemed an acknowledgment.

“You shouldn’t say such things,” she said, flushing scarlet.

“Why not? I want you. And you know what?”

She eyed him warily.

“You want me, too.”

“You’re wrong,” she said quickly, looking away. “I know it’s hard for that arrogant head of yours to comprehend, but not everyone thinks you are irresistible.”

We’ll see about that. He smiled, content to let her hold on to that lie for a little longer. But he’d just thrown down the gauntlet. He was looking forward to watching her struggle not to pick it up—but not quite as much as he was looking forward to the moment when she did. For Erik MacSorley did not doubt for a minute that eventually she would.

Chapter Twelve

Ralph de Monthermer was a patient man. He’d learned that patience in the month he’d spent in the tower, waiting for Edward to decide whether to divest him of his head for the treasonous offense of marrying his daughter without permission.

Then, as now, Ralph’s patience had been rewarded.

He’d been searching for Lady Elyne and the infamous hawk ship for days—careful not to spread word of a missing woman for fear that the scourge would use her as a ransom—with nothing but wind-burned skin, an aching back, and sore arms to show for it.

He’d been stymied at every turn by belligerent barbarians. The Islanders were sheltering them, he knew it. But finding one ship among the hundreds of Isles along the western coast of Scotland was like trying to find a pin at the bottom of the ocean.

Now, at last, they had word.

A message had been delivered this morning to Finn, the earl’s seneschal, claiming that “Ellie the nursemaid” was safe and would be returned home soon. It had to be her. Lady Elyne was smart—she would have realized that it was safer to keep her true identity hidden. The messenger had disappeared before they could question him, but Ralph had been tracking him all day.

It was only a matter of time before they found Lady Elyne and the outlaw who held her.

Ralph hopped over the rail onto the jetty, leaving his men to secure the galley, not stopping until he stalked under the iron gate of Dunluce Castle. He jerked off his steel helm and tossed it to one of the men who rushed forward to attend him. Raking his fingers through his rumpled hair, he allowed another guardsman to relieve him of the heavy cloak he wore over his armor and knight’s tabard.

But he wasn’t just a knight. The king had made him an earl again. A title he’d held previously but had been forced to relinquish upon his wife’s death. His heart knifed, the pain still cruelly sharp. He would give everything he had—his titles, his wealth, his life—to have Joan back again. But Joan was gone, and he was the Earl of Atholl—the Scottish earldom recently vacated by the execution of the former earl, who’d made the deadly decision to follow Bruce.

Ralph grimaced. He had no taste for Edward’s bloodlust, but the king was unrelenting. His rage at Bruce—whom he’d treated like a son—and his followers knew no bounds. Ralph no longer wanted to guess at the extremes the king would go to in order to see the rebellion crushed; he feared he wouldn’t like what he saw.

The chain from his mail clinked as he strode into the hall. Word of his arrival had preceded him and the earl and his family were waiting for him, including the one person he wanted to avoid.

Although he was careful not to look at her, he knew Lady Mathilda was there simply by the way his blood fired. His attraction to the girl—unlike to her sister to whom he was engaged—angered him. It was wrong. Not only because he was betrothed to her sister, but because Joan had been gone for only sixteen months. His body’s reaction seemed a betrayal of the woman he’d loved with all his heart.

Lady Elyne was the better match. She wasn’t wild and vivacious, but serene and stately. She wouldn’t embarrass him at court with whatever impulsive—no matter how charming—thought came out of her mouth, and would be a caring mother to his children. But most important, she wouldn’t make him forget the love he’d had for his wife.

“Have you found them?” Ulster demanded the moment he stepped into the large room.

Ralph could feel the weight of Lady Mathilda’s gaze on him but did not look in her direction. “Not yet. But we are close.” They waited for him to explain. “I tracked the messenger to a boat that arrived at Ballycastle this morning from Kintyre.”

They’d been lucky. The messenger had been careless in covering his tracks—although he probably hadn’t anticipated having the full force of two earls after him when he’d delivered a message about a nursemaid. It hadn’t taken much “persuading” to convince people to talk when Ralph arrived with a fleet of heavily armed English soldiers.

Ulster didn’t seem impressed. “The message could have originated from anywhere.”

Ralph nodded. “Aye, but I don’t think so. I think they’re close. I think the king is right.”

King Edward was convinced that Bruce was planning something. It was the reason both Ralph and Ulster had been ordered to bring their fleets to the Ayrshire coast of Scotland as soon as possible. They were to leave first thing in the morning.

“Why?” Ulster asked. “What did you find?”