It took Elizabeth a moment to regain consciousness—or rather return to any semblance of her senses. The feelings, sensations, and emotions that had taken hold of her were so overpowering they did not give way easily—or quickly. Only when the last ebb of pleasure had slipped from her body did some level of awareness return.
She felt so deliciously exhausted. Her body was warm and melty; she didn’t think she could move if she had to. But it was a different kind of exhaustion—a satisfied kind. A contented kind. Although contentment hardly captured the happiness that glowed inside her and seemed to fill her to bursting.
But it wasn’t until Thommy rolled off her—taking his heat and solid weight with him—that her thoughts became cohesive enough to speak.
“Thommy?”
She heard the heavy fall of his breathing before he answered. “Aye, love.”
He drew her against him and she snuggled into the warmth of his body as if she’d done so a hundred times. Propping her chin on his chest, she stared up at him. He was so unbelievably handsome sometimes it took her breath away. Like now.
“You were right.”
He seemed to be having difficulty regaining his senses as well, but he managed to cock a brow. “About what?”
“It did work.”
He gave a sharp laugh, and the smile that turned his mouth was so boyishly charming it wrapped around her heart and squeezed. “I think that’s an understatement, El.”
Having no previous experience to rely upon, she was enormously pleased to hear it. “It is?”
He tipped her chin to look into her eyes. “That was . . . I don’t even know how to describe it.”
She grinned back at him. “It was pretty spectacular, wasn’t it?”
“Very spectacular.”
“Does that mean you want to do it again?”
He groaned. “God, sweetheart, are you trying to kill me? I need a little time to recover. And so do you—you will be sore. I should have been . . . easier on you.”
Was he blushing? She didn’t think she’d ever seen him blush before. It was adorable. If a man as physically imposing as him could be characterized as such. “Don’t say that—it was perfect.” And worth any soreness she might feel. She started drawing little circles on his chest and stomach, the muscles clenching into tight bands at her touch. “How much time?”
He laughed gruffly. “More than five minutes.”
But it turned out not much more. The second time he made love to her was slower and less frenzied, but every bit as powerful. Maybe even more so. There was no pain this time, and when he held her gaze as they broke apart, it made everything seem more significant—deeper somehow. The emotions, the sensations, the force of the spasms racking her body, the intensity of the love she felt for him, and the connection between them . . . everything was stronger.
And so was her exhaustion. This time, she didn’t regain much of her consciousness at all before falling into a contented and sated—extremely sated—sleep.
She was still smiling when Thom shook her awake. But the smile didn’t last long.
He cursed, the word he used conveying the urgency before he spoke. “Hurry”—he jumped to his feet and tossed her her gown even as he began to put on his own clothes—“there’s someone at the door.”
27
NOT SOMEONE. THE voice that had awakened Thom and thrust him into a nightmare was far too familiar. He swore again, cursing himself for falling asleep even as he hastened to pull on his clothes.
“Open the God damned door now, MacGowan, or I swear I’ll—”
“Give me a minute,” Thom said, not needing to hear the details. His face was grim as he cast Elizabeth a worried glance.
She paled while hastening to put on her gown. She’d obviously recognized the voice as well.
This wasn’t good, damn it. Wasn’t good at all. Every foul curse word Thom could think of went through his head.
There was only one way it might have been worse. If he hadn’t had the foresight to latch the door, they would have been naked and entwined in each other’s arms rather than half-clothed when James Douglas forced his way into the forge.
Still, there was no hiding what they’d been doing. James took one look at them, realized what Thom had done, and gave him a look of such horror, betrayal, scathing condemnation, and hatred that Thom knew there was nothing he could say, no explanation that would right this wrong.
It was at that moment, when Thom saw the scene through Jamie’s eyes—the crude forge, the cloaks spread out on the soot-stained stone floor, various pieces of clothing still strewn across the floor, Elizabeth half-dressed with the ties of her gown still loosed, her hair unbound and mussed, her lips swollen, the tender skin of her face and neck still pink from the scrape of his stubbled jaw—that the reality of what he’d done hit him, and he felt every bit as base and dishonorable as his old friend thought him.
Guilt and shame twisted through his gut. He’d ravished her, damn it. Taken her innocence when it was not his right to do so—hell, it was a right that still probably belonged to someone else. The king’s nephew, as it happened.
He cursed again.
No matter how right it might have felt, it wasn’t. He’d known that, but he’d let himself forget.
Thom steeled himself for what was to come but didn’t make any attempt to stop it. He’d been on the other side of one of James Douglas’s fists many times before, but still nothing could have prepared him for the force of the blow that landed on his jaw like a war hammer. His head snapped back with a burst of pain that made him see stars.
Elizabeth screamed.
Thom barely lifted his head before another blow followed, this one to the gut, causing him to groan and double over.
“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Douglas jerked him up to hit him again. “She’s my sister. How could you . . .”
Thom didn’t know what to say—what could he? Nor did he try to defend himself from the pummeling. Maybe part of him felt it was deserved.
“Jamie, no! Stop, you’ll kill him.”
“Good!”
Elizabeth’s attempt to get in front of him roused Thom enough to block the next blow and try to keep her out of the way. “Stay out of this, Ella.”
“No!” she shouted furiously, tears streaming down her face. “No!”
She turned on her brother and screamed at him to stop. James was beyond hearing, however, and it wasn’t until she threw herself between the two men that Douglas swore and stopped swinging. “Get out of the way, Ella, this is between me and MacGowan.”
“No, it’s not,” she bellowed back at him just as angrily. “This is what I wanted. I’m going to marry him.”
“The hell you are,” Douglas said in a deadly voice that left no room for argument.
To her credit, Elizabeth didn’t flinch before the man whose formidable “black” rage inspired epitaphs and nightmares on the other side of the border. “Once you calm down enough to listen to reason, you’ll realize that there is no other choice. It’s too late.”
She didn’t need to explain what she meant by that. Douglas’s face turned so dark Thom thought he would strike him again and readied himself for the blow.
Douglas’s entire body seemed to be shaking and he spoke in chillingly clear words to his sister. “If you think I’ll reward him for seducing and dishonoring you, you are out of your damned mind. I don’t care what happened here.”
Her confidence faltered just a little. She paled slightly before lifting her stubbornly set chin a hair higher. “He didn’t seduce me; I seduced him!”
Despite his fury, Douglas took one look at her and laughed. “Which only proves how innocent you are. MacGowan has been waiting for his chance to take advantage of you since you were sixteen. No matter what he let you think, this has always been his damned plan. He wants you and nothing will stop him. Not even his precious honor.”
Thom could stand silent no longer. Douglas had a right to his anger, but Thom wasn’t
the boy with soot on his face who had to keep his mouth closed and accede to his bidding. He was a skilled warrior—soon to be among the best—with more than enough land to provide for her.
“Whether you believe me or not, I did not intend for this to happen. I made a mistake. I forgot my honor. But perhaps I am not alone in doing so?”
The pointed reminder to a battle between them a few years ago when the situation was reversed—when Thom was defending Joanna’s honor—made Douglas flush with anger. “This is not about me, damn it!”
“Isn’t it?” The anger and resentment that Thom had buried for years emerged. “Isn’t it you who sent her away when she was sixteen to keep us apart? Isn’t it you who has never thought I was good enough for her? Isn’t it you who betrothed her to another man when you knew she didn’t love him?”
Douglas’s teeth clenched, his eyes narrowed and feral. “I will not apologize for doing what I think is best to protect my sister.”
“Nor should you. But what are you trying to protect her from? I may not have Randolph’s wealth, but neither am I just a village lad anymore. I can protect and provide for her. I’ll have lands of my own and be fighting with the best warriors—”
Douglas laughed in his face. “Not if I have anything to say about it. When I let it be known what has happened here, you’ll be lucky to have a hammer left to take back to the forge. You seduced the woman who is betrothed to the king’s nephew.”
“Was betrothed,” Elizabeth interjected, though they both ignored her.
“How do you think they’ll react?” Jamie continued. “You’ll be lucky if Bruce doesn’t have you strung up and Randolph doesn’t challenge you. You are done, MacGowan, done.”
Struck cold by the threat that he knew wasn’t a threat, Thom felt as if everything he’d worked for over the last three years, and all the happiness, all the hope, all the promise of the past few hours, had just been crushed—flattened—obliterated in one cruel blow.
Thom didn’t doubt Douglas would do it; in fact, he knew he would.
In forgetting his honor, in taking her innocence, Thom had handed Douglas the sword to destroy him. One word and everything he’d fought for the past few years, everything he’d earned, would be gone. His knighthood, his barony, and most important of all, his place among the best warriors in Christendom.
But it wasn’t until Thom glanced at Elizabeth that the full extent of the destruction struck him. In the horror of her expression, in the bloodless pallor of her skin, in the bleakness of her gaze, Thom knew that he’d lost everything. He’d lost her.
She was frantic. Desperate. “No, Jamie! You can’t! I won’t let you do that. Please, you have to listen . . .”
But Jamie wasn’t listening to anything. He was dragging her out the door.
“No, wait. I need—”
Whatever she’d been about to say was cut off when Jamie leaned down and growled something in her ear. She paled and turned to look at Thom helplessly.
“I’m sorry . . .”
The words were punctuated by a slam.
Thom sank to the bench where her cloak was still strewn; Jamie hadn’t even bothered to let her finish getting dressed. The hose and surcotte lying in a pool on the floor seemed to taunt him with all that Thom had had—if only for a few hours—and lost.
Head in his hands, he fell into a black hole of despair. The blacksmith’s son had reached too high. He’d reached for the stars, and in doing so, he’d lost it all: his fortune, his place in Bruce’s secret army, and most important, his heart.
The thing Elizabeth feared most had become a reality. If she married him, she would once again be that little girl left with nothing.
He wouldn’t do that to her. Even if she still loved him, he couldn’t marry her. Douglas was right. He’d be lucky if Bruce—or Randolph—let him live long enough to return home.
But it was all that was left for him now.
“Unless you want my blade in his gut, you’ll leave now, Ella.”
Her brother’s words had stopped her protests cold. Elizabeth knew it wasn’t a threat. Jamie was practically shaking with barely constrained rage. She knew she needed to get him away from Thommy and give him a chance to cool down.
Jamie would have killed Thommy earlier if she hadn’t intervened. Her mouth screwed up into an annoyed purse. And blasted Thommy would have let him. She’d seen the expression on his face when Jamie had burst in on them and knew he was feeling guilty and ashamed for what they’d done. Which was ridiculous. And she would tell him exactly that just as soon as she got her brother under control. Men and their blasted honor!
The siblings fumed in silence as they stomped the short distance back to the abbey. She was surprised to see that it was still night—from the number of people, probably around midnight—she and Thommy hadn’t slept that long after all. Jamie had just arrived much earlier than they expected. He must have raced back in the darkness as soon as he’d received her note.
They had just about reached the guesthouse when Elizabeth turned on him, unable to hold back her anger any longer. But it wasn’t just anger. All she had to do was think of Thommy’s expression when Jamie had threatened to ruin him, and her chest squeezed equally with despair.
She knew her brother’s heart was in the right place—he thought he was protecting her—but right now it was hard to remember that. “How could you, Jamie? How could you threaten to destroy Thommy like that? You must know how difficult it is to do what he’s done to move beyond his birth, how hard he has worked for all he’s achieved, and you threatened to take it all away from him out of a misguided sense of vengeance?”
“There’s nothing misguided about it at all, and it’s no better than he deserves for what he did.”
“For what I did. This was what I wanted, but you seem to not want to hear that. But I swear to you, Jamie, if you say one word against Thommy—tell anyone what happened—I will never forgive you.” She gave him a hard look so that he would know she meant it. “I intend to marry him whether you give me permission or not.”
Stubbornness was a family trait. He practically growled at her when he said, “The hell you will.”
She ignored him. “Thom is the most noble man I know—which you know as well as I do.”
He barked out a bitter laugh. “Not so noble after all, as it turns out. When I think of all the times he—” He stopped, his mouth set in a hard line. “It doesn’t matter. He’s going to pay for this.”
“Whatever you do to him you do to me.”
“You say that now.”
“I will say it forever. No matter what you do. I love him, Jamie. Can’t you understand that?” The first crack appeared in his anger, and Elizabeth pressed on. “You are my brother, and I will always love you—and I know you are doing what you think is best—but if you make me choose between you, I will choose Thom.”
He paled slightly.
She looked up to see that Joanna had appeared at the door. How much had she heard? From her expression, probably enough.
“I was worried,” she said by way of explanation. She came outside, crossing the distance to where they stood in the small courtyard. She took in Elizabeth’s disheveled appearance. “I thought you weren’t going to do anything rash.” Not waiting for an explanation—there wasn’t one—she turned to her husband. “What is this really about, James? Why are you so against this? You know that she loves him. Are you trying to rectify your mistake?”
When he realized her meaning, he looked horrorstruck—absolutely leveled by the accusation. “How can you think that? You know I have never regretted our marriage for a moment. But you’ve heard the unkind remarks about your ‘scandalous breech of propriety’—probably even more than I have. I know how much it’s hurt you, and I hate that I cannot shield you from it, but I can’t. I can for Elizabeth. It would be even worse for her. Much worse. Doors will be closed.”
“So she will open others,” Jo said with her simple logic. “I have been hurt, but I would
not change anything for the world, don’t you see that? And Elizabeth is stronger in that way than I am.” She paused. “I am not minimizing your concerns, but if she understands and is willing to accept it, why aren’t you?”
He shifted his gaze first. “I just want to see her happy.”
“I will be,” Elizabeth said softly.
“And Thom is doing well for himself,” Joanna said. “He’s a hero. It might not be as bad as you think.”
Elizabeth and Jamie exchanged a look, the threat hovering in the air between them. Jamie had the good grace to show a tinge of shame. They both knew how Joanna would react if Elizabeth told her what Jamie had threatened to do. But she didn’t. Even if he wouldn’t admit so now, she knew Jamie wouldn’t say a word about what he’d discovered.
“He has done well,” Jamie admitted. “But there will always be some who will see him as unworthy.”
“Do you?” Elizabeth asked.
The question hung in the cold night air. Years of friendship, years of anger and hatred, all coalesced in one important pause.
“No,” he finally admitted.
“I know you want to protect her, James,” Joanna said. “But doesn’t she have just as much right to be happy as we do?”
It was the final blow. They both knew Elizabeth had won. But her brother’s pride had taken a beating tonight, and she would not drive in the stake. She didn’t need to.
Joanna realized it as well. Always the mediator between the hardheaded siblings, she said, “Come inside. Let’s get some rest. We can discuss what is to be done in the morning.”
Unfortunately, the morning proved to be too late. When Joanna brought in the linen-covered sword that had been delivered to the abbey shortly before dawn, Elizabeth knew Thom was gone.
28
IT DIDN’T TAKE Thom long to realize that he’d made a mistake. His father had summed it up quite succinctly on hearing the story not long after he arrived in Douglas: “Did you give the lass a chance?” Thom’s mouth had slammed shut. They both knew he hadn’t. “If you love her as much as I think you do, you should have stayed and fought. What the hell are you doing here?”