The Ghost (Highland Guard 12) by Monica McCarty

Author:Monica McCarty [McCarty, Monica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The next five days were some of the most miserable of Joan’s recent memory. As if Alex’s sudden abandonment wasn’t enough, Alice was suffering from “head-splitting” headaches that were preventing her from sleeping, and she was taking her temper out on Joan, whom her cousin blamed for making her look “foolish” in front of her husband.

Apparently Alice failed to consider that it might be her own constant complaints and dramatic moans of pain that might be keeping her husband away from her bed at night, rather than anything Joan might have done.

In any event, last night had been the first full night of sleep Joan had managed in nearly a week—she refused to think of the first night when she’d gotten no sleep—as she’d finally become fed up with her cousin’s whinging and distemper and given her what was left of the sleeping powder. It was welcome relief. She couldn’t bear to look at the reminder of her perfidy and was glad to be rid of it.

On Friday morning, she woke for the first time to the feel of warmth on her skin and not a high-pitched screech in her ear. The novelty of feeling rested wore off soon, however, as the familiar questions began their daily—hourly—circling in her head.

Where had he gone? Why had he left? Did he intend to return? Did any of it have anything to do with her?

The one thing she knew was that he had not returned to the Bruce fold. She’d managed to get a message to her compatriots, and her answer had arrived yesterday. Seton was not in Scotland.

She hadn’t really believed it possible, but the disappointment had been surprisingly acute.

So where was he? And why, even after nearly a week, did his leaving without saying a word still hurt so badly? He’d been so upset after. Did he despise her? Blame her? Or was he just avoiding her?

Joan didn’t think so. Alex might have betrayed Bruce and the Guard—she knew him well enough to know that he must have had a reason—but he was not a coward.

With Alice still blissfully asleep, Joan crept out of her room and made her way to the Hall to break her fast. Margaret was already seated at one of the trestle tables, and Joan joined her. They spoke of nothing of import—and certainly nothing about their “treasonous” activities—but simply knowing that someone knew the truth was not only relaxing but oddly comforting. Joan wasn’t alone, and for the first time, she realized how much she’d missed having a friend. A real friend—one whom she didn’t need to deceive.

They were walking back to the tower to check on Alice (“Must we?” Margaret had groaned) when they heard the guards on the rampart call out excitedly that the king’s banner had been sighted.

The two women shared a look of dread. They knew well what the king’s arrival meant. The war that had largely taken a position in the back during the seven troubled years of Edward II’s reign had finally moved to the forefront.

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