Chapter One
1301
Northern Ireland
Elizabeth pressed her fingertips to her pounding head as the carriage jostled down the road toward her home. It had been a long day’s ride already from the party they had attended at the estate of Lord Belfine, a friend of their father’s. How she would endure Aveline’s prattling much longer, she did not know, but she had to or her carefully laid plan would be ruined.
Aveline frowned at her from the other side of the carriage. “I told you to drink more wine. It’s the heat, you know, making your head ache.”
Elizabeth’s blue eyes met their cousin’s green ones. Lillianna sat beside Aveline with her hands fisted in her lap. She opened her mouth as if to argue.
“I’m certain you’re correct,” Elizabeth rushed out to stop Lillianna from starting an argument with Aveline. If Aveline became angry, she may well call for the carriage to be halted, and if they halted now, they would not do so at Avondale Forest as they had agreed upon before taking the journey. They had to stop there. Elizabeth and Lillianna’s plans to escape her parents’ rule, made secretly over the past fortnight, hinged on them rendezvousing with Connor Daniel, a mercenary for hire. It had taken a month of notes, stealthily delivered and received by way of Elizabeth’s chambermaid, whom she and Lillianna had paid in jewels. They had first learned of the mercenary by overhearing her older brother Walter speaking about the man to one of Walter’s friends. That conversation had given Elizabeth the original idea to try to hire him to aid them. The man had agreed, and he had been paid in full as he had required. Now all that was left was to meet him at the set location in the woods, and then he would help them flee.
“Here,” Aveline scolded as she held the wine skin out to Elizabeth. “Drink this. It will ease the pain.”
Elizabeth took the skin without argument, her hand passing into the sunshine. The large emerald she wore would aid her and Lillianna once they were free. Freedom, she thought, taking a long drink of the blackberry-tinged wine, was the most precious and rare thing in the world. While she was eager to earn it fully, she feared the small bit she had already been granted was about to disappear completely.
“I see you wore the emerald Father gave you,” Aveline bit out.
“Yes, I thought it would look nice with my dress,” Elizabeth lied, running a finger over the cool stone. She felt bad that Father had not sent Aveline a gift for her birthday, but she knew now that he had sent the ring for Elizabeth to wear when she eventually returned to the king’s court. No doubt, he wished for her to appear not only well-dressed but well jeweled. Which could only mean her father was ready to give her away as penance to the king. She’d also overheard enough of a conversation with her sister Beatrice and her mother to know the king had decided on a man for her to marry.
Elizabeth met Lillianna’s steady stare over the wine skin, took another long drink, and then handed it silently to Lillianna. She likely needed to calm her nerves as much as Elizabeth did. It was both exciting and worrisome to think they would escape this day, if all went according to plan. If it did not, she shuddered to think of the consequences for her and Lillianna.
Elizabeth stared out of the brancard and watched the rolling green landscape of her home country creep by. Hopefully, they would be on a ship to France tonight. The emerald should purchase both herself and Lillianna passage, and as their escort, Mr. Daniel would keep them safe. What they would do once they were there, she hadn’t any notion, but the glorious idea of freedom made her smile.
“Are you smiling over the latest news swirling at Lord Belfine’s about the Scots’ continued efforts at rebellion?” Aveline asked. “It is so tedious.”
“No,” Elizabeth said, taking one last look across the sun-kissed, glistening heather that swayed in the gentle breeze. She would miss Ireland. It was beautiful and wild, much like Scotland. The thought had her focusing on Aveline. “What is the news?”
She was careful to keep her tone even and not too interested, though she was. She had never forgotten the day that had opened her eyes to the cruelty of her father and the king, and to the plight of the Scottish people.
“King Edward is invading Scotland again!” Aveline exclaimed like a child who had received a bauble. “And Father will aid him, of course.”
“Of course,” Elizabeth murmured, hoping she did not sound as disgusted as she felt.
“This makes the sixth time,” Aveline continued, as if Elizabeth did not know. “When do you suppose those people will simply relinquish the fight?”
“When they’re dead,” Elizabeth replied dryly. It irked Elizabeth to no end that Aveline—their entire family, really—considered themselves somehow better than an entire nation of people. Simply being Scottish did not somehow make the Scots lesser than the English and the Irish.
Aveline chuckled. “Elizabeth, sometimes you are so funny.”
Elizbeth forced a smile as she and Lillianna locked eyes in mutual understanding. It was better that Aveline had not realized that there had been no intention of humor, only truth. Sometimes it was hard to disguise how she truly felt.
Aveline fanned herself as she cocked her head to the side. “They have no hope against King Edward and Father.”
“How can you be so joyous, Aveline?” Lillianna burst out. “You do understand that people die in these battles—and not just Scottish people! English knights die, as well.”
Aveline scowled at Lillianna. “Of course I understand that. Death is the price of war. Though, I do hate that good English knights die because those Scots refuse to accept King Edward as their liege.”
When Lilliana flushed with anger, Elizabeth quickly said, “Must we talk of politics? It’s terribly boring,” she lied.
“I do normally agree,” Aveline admitted, “but my interest was piqued when I heard Lord Belfine speak of Bruce. You recall him, don’t you, Elizabeth?” Aveline asked with a smirk. Her sister knew well that Elizabeth’s freedoms had been stripped from her because of the day she had aided Robert the Bruce. An image of the man, dark hair brushing his shoulders and eyes just as dark with glinting gold peppered in them, flashed in her mind. If her recollections were correct, he was tall, commanding, and built for battle. Her belly tightened a bit with the memory. “Elizabeth?” Aveline snapped. “Do you recall him?”
“You know I recall who he is,” Elizabeth murmured. Truthfully, whenever she had heard his name mentioned over the years, she had stilled and listened, feeling oddly connected to a man she barely knew. She did know, however, that King Edward had stripped his English estates away. And she had learned that Bruce had been appointed, along with John Comyn, to a post called Guardian of Scotland, but that he had resigned it later. Her brother Walter had said the post meant they made the final decisions for the welfare of Scotland while Balliol was forced to remain in France. She did not know why Bruce had resigned his post, but she was certain it was not lack of bravery. He’d proven his courage that day five years before, yet she was not so foolish as to ignore the idea that he might simply have been serving his own interest. He was a powerful lord, just as her father was, and her father had fooled her for years into believing he was truly good before she discovered he was self-serving. Plus, Walter had made a comment that the Bruces and the Comyns would never lead Scotland anywhere except to a great divide. The two powerful families had been fighting among themselves for power over the land they claimed to love.
“Well—” Aveline started, then swallowed her words as the carriage lurched. It tilted sharply to the left, and she grabbed the side of the seat. Elizabeth glanced out the window but saw nothing more than Walter riding in the front with one of his men. Likely, the horse had simply misstepped into a hole in the road. “Robert the Bruce is said to be building up his forces in his lands to march against the king once more,” Aveline went on. “How many times must King Edward defeat the man?”
“He has not defeated him,” Elizabeth snapped, her control over her tongue slipping.
Her sister’s eyes narrowed. “King Edward has killed many rebellious lords and stripped others of their lands and titles and gained their homage. That is defeat.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “That is not Bruce’s defeat. The man does not bow to Edward as king.”
“He pretended to before he rebelled,” Aveline muttered. “The treacherous Scot…” Her sister studied her for a long moment. “Sometimes, Elizabeth, you seem almost sympathetic to the Scots’ cause. Perhaps I should tell Mother,” she threatened.
Elizabeth wanted to snap, Please do! Yet, even now, she had to guard her words. She caught Lillianna shooting her a warning look and took a long, deep breath. “I assure you my sympathies lie only with myself,” she said with a wink.
Aveline burst out laughing, and Elizabeth felt herself relax. Of course her sister could relate to being self-interested!
Once Aveline quit laughing, she waved a hand toward the brancard. “Lord Belfine says that out there somewhere, Robert the Bruce is here to gather his vassals in Ireland to join him in the fight against Edward.”
Elizabeth’s attention was immediately drawn to the landscape. It was silly, but she swept her gaze across the green hills and then to the dense woods searching for a horse and a man. The Bruce lands were vast and, at one point, adjacent to those of her family. Were they on his lands now? She wished she could somehow warn the man.
“Oh!” Aveline exclaimed. “What if he burns his land here as he does in Scotland?”
“He burns his land in Scotland so that King Edward may not use it for food, weapons, or shelter for his troops,” Lillianna said, enunciating each word as if talking to a child.
Aveline’s forehead did wrinkle momentarily, and then she said, “Oh! Well, that does make sense.”
Elizabeth could not help it: she burst out laughing and Lillianna joined her. A dark look settled on Aveline’s face, but they were spared her temper as the carriage suddenly halted. Elizabeth glanced out the window, shocked to see they were on the edge of Avondale Forest. It was time. Elizabeth’s palms dampened nervously as Walter opened the door a moment later. He offered her his hand, and she quickly wiped her palm on her gown before taking it and allowing him to help her out of the carriage.
Once they all alighted from the carriage, Walter motioned to the grass. “This is the perfect place to stop, as I said before we left. The river runs beside this road just through the woods. You can find privacy there. Simply stay within shouting distance. We’ll call you when the food is ready.”
“I’m not hungry,” she answered, just as she and Lillianna had planned.
“And my stomach ails me,” Lillianna added, patting her midsection.
“I’m going to find a shady spot by the water,” Elizabeth continued, praying her voice wouldn’t shake as her body did. “Call me when you are ready to depart.”
“I’ll join you,” Lillianna said.
Walter nodded. “Stay together,” he warned.
Sadness suddenly swept over Elizabeth. None of her siblings had ever been particularly kind to her, but they were still her siblings, and the realization that she’d likely never see them again struck her hard in the chest, making it tighten. “We will,” she said, glancing toward Aveline, who was already settling herself onto a rock under a tree. Blinking her suddenly stinging eyes, she and Lillianna walked away. Once they had gone a safe distance, Elizabeth took deep breaths of the fresh air.
“I feel surprisingly sad,” she admitted.
Lillianna slipped an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders and squeezed. “I think it’s normal, though I felt no sadness when I left my father’s home.” Elizabeth nodded, understanding, considering Uncle Brice had been responsible for Aunt Kara’s death.
Elizabeth thought of the legend surrounding Aunt Kara and the women of her family that when they truly fell in love the gift of sight would come to them. “Lillianna, do you ever wonder if you will get the gift of sight when you fall in love?”
Lillianna shook her head. “I pray I can never see the future. It’s a curse!”
Elizabeth was not sure she agreed, yet she could understand why Lillianna would feel that way, so she pressed her lips together on saying more. As they neared the forest, they hiked up their skirts, hurried toward the river, and then followed the bank as it wound toward the twin hills in the east where they were to meet Mr. Daniel.
Elizabeth panted, trying to keep moving at a fast clip. Neither her gown nor her slippers were suitable for walking. Her gown weighed upon her, and each rock gouged her tender feet, but the attire had been appropriate for the party they had attended. Beside her, Lilliana breathed heavily, as well, and she knew her cousin was in the same predicament.
“Just think,” Elizabeth said, “we can dip our feet in the river without anyone chiding us.”
“And we can ride horses as men do,” Lillianna said.
“Practice shooting bows and arrows and participate in hunts,” Elizabeth said.
Lillianna laughed. “We will need to sell your emerald for a good amount of money.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Did not Mr. Daniel say he could?”
“He did,” Lillianna assured her, as she had been the one to communicate with him.
“Race you there?” Elizabeth asked, wanting to put as much distance between herself and her family as possible.
Lillianna nodded, and they set off at a run. By the time they reached the rendezvous point, her feet ached horribly, so when it was obvious that Mr. Daniel was not there yet, she was delighted to find a clear, low spot in the river that flowed up onto a grassy bank.
“Let’s cool off,” she suggested.
Lillianna nodded, and they both nudged their slippers off, peeled back their stockings, and dipped their feet into water. Elizabeth got onto her knees to wet her face, accidentally dipping her hair. It soaked the front of her gown as she stood. She tilted her face to the sun, closed her eyes, and wondered if it was as Aveline had said: that somewhere in Ireland, Robert the Bruce was hiding and gathering his vassals.
“I’m going to search for Mr. Daniel,” Elizabeth said, forcing herself to open her eyes, sit, and put on her stockings and slippers. “We cannot afford to linger, and he must be lost.”
“I’ll go with you,” Lillianna offered.
“No. What if he comes here and then we miss him? I won’t venture far, and I’ll stick to the river. I just wish I had my dagger.” It was but one of the many privileges her father had stripped from her.
“As do I. These woods make me nervous.”
Elizabeth nodded, then did the only thing she could: she turned and walked away.