The Hunter (Highland Guard #7)(35)

Janet bit back a smile. It wasn’t magic, it was her messages—or at least the ones she passed back and forth. But she could hardly tell them that. Over the past few months, she’d become the intermediary for Robert’s most important—and secret—informant in the enemy camp. Only a handful of people knew of their informant’s identity. Indeed, Robert was so protective of their source that Janet didn’t think he would have agreed to risk using her had she not been available to act as an intermediary. It had to be a woman—to lessen the chance of discovery for their informant—and someone he could trust. Like a former sister-in-law.

On the first Saturday of every month, Sister Genna brought embroidery from the good sisters of Mont Carmel Nunnery outside of Berwick to sell at the market here in Roxburgh, one of Edward’s key command posts in the Borders. The finely stitched pieces were a favorite of the ladies in the castle, and they were always excited to see the Italian nun. If Janet occasionally found a folded piece of parchment in one of the purses they examined (or left one to be found as she did today), she knew it wouldn’t be long before there was another sighting of “Bruce’s phantoms.”

“It’s not right,” the older merchant continued. “Bruce is a knight, yet he hides in the forest and countryside like a craven mouse while he sends his phantom brigands to harry our valiant and chivalrous soldiers. Edward will be forced to return to England for the winter, having never taken the field against the traitor.”

Janet would not argue with the mouse analogy—with Edward playing the part of the cat—but Robert the Bruce was no coward. However, she understood what these men did not: the battle could be won by evasion as easily as it could by taking up arms—with much less risk.

Why should Robert take the field? He had nothing to gain by meeting Edward on the battlefield right now. The quick, surprise attacks from the heather that were meant to harry and discourage the enemy might not be “knightly,” but they were giving him all the victories he needed. When he was ready, Robert would take the field against the powerful English army, with their knights, mail, and destriers.

But until then, the war would go on.

Janet sighed, sadness and resolve rolling over her in a wistful wave. If she’d harbored a secret hope that the war would end soon, she knew it was not to be. Scotland, her sister, and what remained of her family would have to wait a little longer.

The talk around her continued, but Janet’s interest waned as the morning dragged on and the sun climbed higher in the sky. Jerusalem’s Temples, it was like midsummer during a heat wave! She dabbed a damp cloth at her forehead, not for the first time wishing she could tear off the blasted veil and gown.

The vehemence of her reaction took her aback. It seemed that more and more, Janet was growing uncomfortable in the garments that had protected and kept her hidden for so long.

Her mouth pursed, knowing exactly who was to blame for her discontent. Before Ewen Lamont had burst into her life and ruined everything with his confusing, bone-melting kiss, she’d barely noticed the clothes she wore. But now, every morning after she washed, she dressed with a feeling of wrongness. It felt wrong to pretend to be a nun when her thoughts—her dreams—were filled with such wickedness. And her intention to be a nun … that felt wrong, too. It had never been a calling to her, not in the way it should, but had seemed the practical solution to enable her to continue doing what she did enjoy.

It was the only way; blast him for making her question it!

It was ridiculous. All these months, and she was still thinking of a man she would probably never see again, who’d probably forgotten all about her. Who was utterly wrong for her. Who saw only one place for women in this modern world, and that was behind castle walls.

Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him? Why did the short time they’d spent together play on her mind even all this time later? And why did she feel so guilty for lying to him?

Lies in war were necessary. If she needed any proof that she’d done the right thing, all she had to do was think about today. Her role in Robert’s network had become more important than she’d dreamed. Robert needed her.

It was for the best. Of course, it was. She was glad Ewen had never come back. Truly. He’d confused her enough already.

For the second time that morning, Janet felt a prickle at the back of her neck and turned. She scanned the crowd of villagers, looking closely at the soldier who stood in their midst, but no one seemed to be paying her any mind.

The long wait was making her antsy. Fortunately, when she looked back up the hill toward the castle, she could see that her wait was over. A group of about ten ladies were making their way down the hill toward the village. They were easy to pick out by the bright colors and finery of their gowns and jewels. They sparkled like diamonds in a sea of dreary gray.

Janet was unable to suppress the pang of longing that stole through her chest. At one time, she’d looked just like them. As a girl, she’d driven her father half-crazed with her penchant for spending “a bloody fortune” on the latest fashions from France and England.

But now …

She gazed down at the hot, black homespun gown that she wore, which had no more shape than a sackcloth. Her chest squeezed. Was it wrong to want to be pretty again?

She pursed her mouth, telling herself to stop being so silly. But she knew exactly who was to blame for the errant thoughts.