Outlaw King

by Julie Johnstone

  Christ! His heart beat painfully. He had no doubt Elizabeth had taken it. He raced out the door, down the stairs, and toward the woods. Elizabeth’s face flashed before him in clear images of her—in the height of passion, with eyes full of love, with a gaze filled with despair, desolation, and pain that he had caused by not having faith in her as he had promised.

  He shoved branches out of his way as he raced into the woods, consumed by the need to get to her. He could not imagine his life without her, and he knew in that moment that he trusted in her. Why had he been such a fool? Why had he allowed doubt to enter his mind and keep him from her for so long? Yes, she was a distraction, but she was also a source of great strength for him. She had been right to call him a coward. He had been. He had been afraid to feel in the depth, in the completeness, that their love demanded. He had been afraid to feel that way because he was afraid to lose her, and it had been easier to push her away than expose himself fully to that possibility.

  “Christ!” he muttered as he quickened his pace, praying to God that he would not lose her now and that she could truly forgive him.

  Elizabeth’s mouth curved up into a smile when Gwendolyn appeared from the trees. Elizabeth crouched for a moment, watching her. The letter she had falsified from Robert asking Gwendolyn to meet him had worked perfectly, just as Elizabeth had suspected it might.

  “Robert!” Gwendolyn called.

  Elizabeth withdrew Robert’s dagger, which was at her hip, and prayed Robert would arrive in time to hear the confession she intended to get out of the woman.

  “Robert!” Gwendolyn called again. “Are ye here?”

  As the woman drew near and turned her back to Elizabeth, Elizabeth sprang from the woods, grabbed Gwendolyn by the neck, and set the point of Robert’s dagger to the woman’s soft skin right under her jaw. “This is my husband’s dagger,” she hissed. “I will use it to slit your throat without hesitation if you do not tell me how it comes to be that your cousin Fraser thinks I plotted against my husband.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Gwendolyn challenged.

  “Aye, lass, she would,” Robert said, barreling through the trees with a dagger in hand. Elizabeth nearly cried out in relief and happiness. He had come! Robert stalked toward her and Gwendolyn, and for a moment, Elizabeth had the sudden fear that he might take her dagger and not help her with Gwendolyn, but he set the point of his dagger to Gwendolyn’s chest, and said, in a voice that chilled Elizabeth with his barely controlled rage, “Why did ye lie about Elizabeth? And before ye answer, I know ye did. So tell me why, or I will kill ye, whether my wife wishes to spare ye or nae.”

  He believed her! She wanted to slump with relief, but she stood rigid with her dagger still at Gwendolyn’s neck. “Be quick about it,” Elizabeth snapped. “I’ve not had my morning meal, and I’m rather irritable.” She saw a smile tremble at Robert’s mouth, and it seemed in that moment that they would somehow rebuild whatever had been destroyed between them.

  “I love ye!” Gwendolyn blurted. “I’ve loved ye for years, and I could nae just stand by and watch ye marry her. I had to find a way to stop ye falling into her spell and to ensure ye hated her. Besides, I overheard her father speaking with the king and telling him Elizabeth would be cooperative and aid them in destroying ye, so I did nae lie. I twisted the truth!”

  “Ye should have come to me with what ye thought,” Robert growled. “I could have told ye that Elizabeth is true to me.”

  Hearing Robert say that made Elizabeth’s breath catch and her heart squeeze.

  “But she’s nae!” Gwendolyn gasped. “Her father said she was working with him and the king.”

  “Because I made him think it was so,” Elizabeth snapped. “I would die for my husband.” She pressed the point of the dagger a little harder into Gwendolyn’s throat but not so hard as to actually cut her. “I would kill to save him if I needed to.” She saw Robert’s eyes widen, and then a smile did curve his lips.

  “Lass, ye have turned out to be a truly proper Scottish wife. But I need ye to do something for me now.”

  “Anything,” she replied, meaning it.

  “Make yer way back to the castle and find Fraser. He rides out this day, and he will need to take Gwendolyn with him. She’s nae to be trusted.”

  “I’ll find him and bring him back here to you.”

  “Nay. Just send him to me. It might be noted if ye go into the woods with him. Wait for me in our bedchamber, aye?”

  The loving yet yearning look he gave her curled her toes. “Yes.” She nodded. “I’ll be waiting there.”

  Fraser’s squire told Elizabeth that Fraser was in the solar, so she rushed up there and met him as he was closing the door. He gave her a frown, but she waved him away from the door, and he followed. “Lady Elizabeth?”

  “Listen to me,” she said in a whisper and grabbed his forearm. “Robert is in the forest by the stream at the entrance where the king’s statue stands. He has your cousin Gwendolyn with him.”

  Fraser’s frown deepened.

  “I never betrayed Robert! Gwendolyn made it seem as if I did because she loves Robert.”

  “Christ’s teeth!” Fraser murmured. “I told that lass to let that hope go.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “You knew?”

  “Aye, but I did nae imagine she’d do something such as this. I’m sorry.”

  “No, do not be. Make haste to Robert. He says you are riding out, and you will need to take Gwendolyn with you.”

  “Aye,” Fraser muttered. “If ye will excuse me?”

  “Yes, yes!” she whispered, waving a hand at him.

  The man disappeared down the stairs, and she turned to leave, as well, when voices drifted from underneath the solar door. It was the king and her father. Glancing around to ensure no one saw her, she pressed closer, her heart thumping so loudly that she could not hear. It took several moments to calm herself, and as she did, her heart quieted.

  “So Wallace has returned and plots even now with Comyn,” the king said.

  “It seems so,” her father answered.

  “Send troops at once with orders to capture Comyn and Wallace in Selkirk Forest. I will kill Wallace in a public display, and Comyn and his men, I’ll use to my advantage.”

  Gooseflesh prickled across Elizabeth’s body, and she glanced behind her nervously, but she was still alone. Then she moved close once more to hear her father say, “What of Bruce?”

  “Robert will bend fully, you will see, and if he does not, if he dares to betray me, I will try him for treason. And he will, of course, be found guilty and hung.” Elizabeth bit down on her lip to keep from crying out. “Watch him,” the king continued. “If he does anything that appears as if he is anything but my loyal servant, then he will suffer the consequences.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Robert entered his bedchamber and found it empty. He knew Elizabeth had returned to the castle safely because Fraser had come to Robert in the forest, but where was she? He did not intend to sit here and wait for her. As he turned to depart, a knock came at the door, and when Robert opened it, Gaston MacLeod stood there. Fraser had told Robert before departing with Gwendolyn that Gaston was one of the contacts he used to bring messages to the king’s court and that he would be the one bringing confirmation that Wallace was in place to rise in rebellion.

  Robert waved the man in and shut the door.

  Gaston narrowed gray eyes on Robert. “I passed Fraser on the way here. He told me to bring ye the message that Wallace is ready.”

  Before Robert could respond, the bedchamber door burst open and Elizabeth rushed through it. She barreled straight into him. Instinctually, he caught her around the waist, steadied her, and then pulled her to his side, soaking up the feel of his wife near him once more.

  “Robert!” she gasped. Then her gaze drifted to Gaston, and she frowned.

  Robert kicked the door shut without releasing Elizabeth and said, “Gaston is an ally, so you can speak freely in front of him.
”

  She bit her lip but nodded. “My father and the king are sending troops this very day to ambush Wallace and Comyn in Selkirk Forest. We must find a way to warn them! The king means to kill Wallace and use Comyn to his gain.”

  “Christ,” Robert muttered, exchanging a look with Gaston. They had to warn Wallace and Comyn, as he was working to aid Wallace currently. How the hell did the king know about Wallace anyway? “How did ye come by this information?”

  She blushed but kept her gaze steady on him. “Listening at the door to the king’s solar.”

  “Verra canny, Wife,” he praised and smiled when she beamed, thankful to see such happiness on her face, not to mention that he had such a forgiving wife.

  A long horn blast filled the room, and he cursed. It was a call to arms, and if the king was calling his men to arms, it could well mean he knew about Gaston and was searching for him.

  Robert looked to Gaston, who scowled. The man swiped his hand across his face. “It seems someone in this castle has betrayed me or Fraser.”

  “Aye,” Robert said. “And as we do nae know who, we must get ye out of here secretly.”

  “Agreed,” Gaston replied, already drawing his dagger.

  Elizabeth turned to Gaston as Robert tried to think on how to help the man escape. “I can lead you safely out,” she said to their new ally.

  “Nay!” Robert said, appalled by the idea of her in such danger.

  “How?” the Highlander asked.

  “There’s a secret passage from my bedchamber in the ladies-in-waiting chambers. As long as I still serve the queen, she promised to keep it as mine. If I can slip you inside, I can lead you to the water. I know the way. You can follow, swim to the island, and head to Scotland from there. But we must go now.”

  “Nay,” Robert refuted, tightening his grip on her.

  “Robert,” Elizabeth said in a soothing tone while placing her open palm on his cheek. Her touch was like a balm to his wounded heart. “You cannot lead Gaston to the passage in the ladies-in-waiting chambers. You, they would question being there, but not me. And we cannot let Gaston be taken. If they have information to suspect him, they will kill him.”

  “I’d rather nae die this day,” Gaston said, a thin smile on his lips.

  Robert nodded, firmly holding on to Elizabeth. He had just found her again, and now he felt as if he was on the verge of losing her forever. “There must be another way.”

  “None that I know of,” Elizabeth answered. “We waste valuable time. You must let me do this!”

  “God’s teeth!” Robert growled as Elizabeth pulled away from him. He had to let her go, or Gaston’s blood may well be on his hands. He felt powerless in the moment, and it filled him with rage. “Ye will be careful and return to me, lass,” he commanded gently. “Or I will come for ye.”

  Joy filled her eyes even as worry flickered across her face. “Be assured, I will return.”

  Robert kissed her, and then he and Gaston clasped forearms. “Tell Wallace I continue as we agreed.”

  Gaston nodded. “One day, we will meet again, Bruce, and I will call ye king. I feel this will be so here.” Gaston touched his heart.

  “I can nae know what the future holds,” Robert said, “but let us hope we meet again and can call ourselves free from Edward’s rule. If we can say that, then we are fortunate men.”

  Gaston nodded, and Robert took Elizabeth’s hand, then stepped to the door and cracked it open. He glanced into the passage and found it empty.

  “Robert,” Elizabeth said, “give Gaston your cloak. The hooded one. He will hopefully be mistaken for you, and I will pretend you wish a tryst in my chamber.”

  Robert nodded, gathered his cloak, and then speared Gaston with a look. “Do nae forget yerself with my wife.”

  “Dunnae fash yerself, Bruce,” Gaston said, taking the cloak. “I’ll nae touch yer wife more than I must in order to keep my head.”

  “Gaston,” Robert growled, gripping the man’s forearm, “if more than ye must involves anywhere currently covered by her clothes, I suggest ye do nae risk it. I will nae be forgiving.”

  The man chuckled. “I hear ye, Bruce. I’ll nae forget.”

  Robert pressed a kiss to Elizabeth’s lips. “I’m sorry, lass. I failed ye.”

  “All is already forgiven, Robert, and tonight, when we are reunited, you can tend to my bruised heart with your tender touches,” she whispered, her eyes filled with sinful promises.

  “Take a care. If ye’re nae back by nightfall, I will come for ye.”

  “Robert!” Elizabeth protested. “You mustn’t—”

  “Do nae waste yer breath,” he told her. “I will come when darkness falls. I’ll nae risk ye in the dark, away from the safety of the keep, alone.”

  “Then I will return, for I’ll not risk your head.”

  Hours later, as the sun started to fade from the sky, Robert paced the room like a caged animal until he simply could not take it anymore. He did not care about the risk to him. He strode across the room, threw open the door, and went to find Elizabeth.

  Getting Gaston into her private lady’s chamber had been much easier than Elizabeth had anticipated. Most of the guards were gone because of the call to arms, and the one that still manned the door did not blink an eye at her saying her husband wished for private time with her in her rooms. She shut the door behind Gaston and then motioned toward the floor. “Help me roll back the rug,” she whispered.

  As quietly as possible, they moved the heavy rug just enough for the concealed opening in the floor to come into view. Elizabeth jammed her dagger into the crack and pried up the door, holding her breath when it squeaked. The queen had remarked on the secret passage the year before, and Elizabeth had then found it and explored it, half out of curiosity and half out of a feeling that she may someday need to use it.

  She silently motioned for Gaston to grab one of the torches, and then they crept down the stairs into the dark, damp air of the tunnel. Remembering that the door slammed hard, she turned quickly to warn Gaston, but a hard thunk told her she was too late.

  Above them, there was a pounding on the door. “My lady, are you all right?”

  Elizabeth shoved past Gaston, eased the trapdoor open, and answered. “Yes, yes. Lord Bruce merely knocked something over. Mind yourself, not me.”

  “Yes, my lady,” came the guard’s reply.

  Shaking with relief as much as fear, she squirmed past Gaston and started through the passage at a clipped pace, brushing cobwebs from her face as she went. Behind her, Gaston breathed heavily, no doubt cramped in the small space.

  “It’s not too far,” she assured him. Yet their progress was slower than she had expected because water had filled the bottom of the passage where it sloped downward, making the dirt slippery and mucky. By the time they reached the opening in the woods, the sky had already taken on the glaze of an afternoon departing, and her mind flew immediately to Robert’s vow to come for her if she had not returned by dark. “We must hurry!”

  Gaston nodded, and she clutched her skirts and began to run, aware of men’s voices that did not sound too far from them. She led Gaston along the short, twisting path to the water, and then she and Gaston crouched in the tall weeds and flowers facing each other. “Swim straight to the island. There is a boat near the summerhouse that you can take the rest of the way.”

  Gaston nodded. “How do ye swim?”

  Her jaw dropped open at his question. “You don’t know how to swim?”

  “Nay, but I did nae want Bruce to ken and risk himself for me.”

  She nodded, nibbling on her lip. “I cannot teach you to swim that quickly. No one could. I’ll have to try to swim you over.”

  “A man of my size?” He gave her a skeptical look.

  She eyed him. “Yes. If you will but stay calm. That is the most important thing. If you panic, we’ll both likely die.”

  “I’ll nae panic if ye sing to me.”

  “Sing to you? Surely, you
jest.”

  “Lass,” Gaston said, “I dunnae ever jest about song.”

  “Take off your clothes,” she said distractedly as she tried to recall the words of the song Robert had sung to her that day in the woods.”

  “What? I dunnae think Bruce would like that.”

  “He will like it less if we die because our clothes dragged us underwater. Either leave your clothes or your sword,” she said, eyeing his blade.

  He frowned, his hand going protectively to his sword. “Dunnae ever ask a man to leave his sword, lass. That’s like asking a man to leave his willy—”

  She pressed a finger to his lips and fought a smile that he would have said such a thing to her. The Scots, she decided, did not care much for propriety. It was refreshing. “I take your point, Gaston, and I suspected as much. So it will be your clothes and mine,” she said, already tugging her gown down.

  Gaston’s eyes popped wide, and then he turned away. “Ye’ll be certain to tell Bruce I did nae look at ye.”

  “Aye,” she teased, stepping out of her gown, covering it with leaves, and then moving toward the water. Once Gaston had stripped himself of all but his braies, they moved deeper into the water until it touched her waist. “Turn onto your back,” she said, worry making her tone clipped.

  Gaston did as commanded, and she slipped her arm around his chest before pulling him back against her. “Bruce will kill me for this,” the man groaned.

  “Do be quiet,” she snapped, “or I will kill you! Now, when I say push off, push and then kick.”

  “Push and kick. I’ve got it,” he murmured.

  “Now!”

  He pushed, and they glided backward, his heavy weight settling on her. Instantly, he tensed, and fright gripped her. “Gaston,” she said in a reassuring voice, “I have you. Do not let fear kill us both. The people of Scotland need you.”

  “Aye,” he panted. “Sing me a song.”

  “Oh the summertime is here,” she started, stroking with one arm and kicking.

  “Wintertime,” he corrected. “Dunnae ye ken the song?”