hairline receded halfway up his skull, rose to his feet. “God on the cross, ’tis as if ye returned from the dead.”
“’Twas you who took me to Saint Andrews.”
“Aye.”
“The bishop trained me well.” James picked up his heel and pointed to his boot. “Earned my spurs from the king at his coronation.”
“Sir James,” Hew whispered, marching across the floor and offering his hand.
“I’ve been tasked by His Grace to establish an army nearby. We’ll raid like Wallace, attacking the English when they least expect it.”
“Dear Lord, no more,” said the woman.
Hew held up his palms. “Wheesht, Sara.”
“I ken Scotland’s people are weak and hungry, but as long as we remain beaten, the English will continue to plunder our homes and our crops. They’ll take our lads to fight their wars and rape our women until…” James thumped his chest. “We put an end to it.”
Hew pointed to the houseboy sitting in the corner, cutting beans. “Seumas, go fetch Davy, and be quick about it.”
Davy was Hew’s son, as well as a lad James had played with when they were young. It wasn’t long before they were sitting at the table together. Now in his prime, Davy had turned into a sturdy Scotsman.
“I ken of a dozen who we can trust,” said the man.
“Only twelve?” asked James.
“If ye spread word wider, you’ll risk having your plans exposed,” said Hew. “Clifford has us all by our throats.”
“Then we’ll cast a wider net. Recruit trusted allies outside of the clan.” James picked up an ewer from the center of the table and poured himself a pint of mead. “I ken some of the Maxwells to the south are not fond of the new earl.”
“Aye, they have his protection, though.” Davy plucked a hazelnut from a wooden bowl in the center of the table, slammed the shell with a hammer, and popped the meat into his mouth. “They might be afraid to take up arms.”
“Mark me, they’re being oppressed by the murderer who calls himself earl.” James tossed a nut into the air and caught it. “Mayhap we test the waters—Davy go see what you can find out. Bring any willing souls to Selkirk. I’ll have a sentry posted to lead you in.”
“Very well. Shall I pay a visit to the Johnstone as well?”
“Anyone ye ken who’s had a gutful of Longshanks’ tyranny is welcome.”
By the time they’d finished plotting, five trusted clans would be visited on the morrow and given news the King of Scotland needs an army. In the wee hours, James headed back to Fail, a tad deflated that he hadn’t immediately recruited his fifty men. Nonetheless, his numbers had increased tenfold and that was a start.
If only he could ride to Lincluden and tell Lady Ailish of his plans—ask her which Maxwell men might support the king.
Hold her in my arms and kiss her under the stars.
Alas, the priory was the opposite direction to Selkirk Forest. And like it or not, the sooner he put the beguiling lass out of his mind, the better off he’d be.
Chapter Nine
Ailish tried to smile as Harris played at being a knight, galloping across the courtyard, using a stick as his horse.
“I’m Sir James and I’ll smote ye where ye stand!” the lad yelled at the top of his lungs.
Cringing, Ailish wiped a hand across her mouth. The braw knight had been gone for a fortnight now and her heart still ached as if he’d taken it with him and left a gaping hole.
On the bench beside her, Sister Louisa gave Ailish’s hand a pat. “You’ve been melancholy ever since you returned from Scone.”
“I suppose.”
“But why? You should be overjoyed that your brother’s earldom has been recognized and preserved, thanks to your bravery.”
“Perhaps, but who kens when Robert will march his army to Galloway and remove my uncle from Caerlaverock Castle.”
“Would it not be nice if they could do so peaceably?”
“You’re too kindhearted.” Ailish gave the nun a friendly nudge. “I simply pray the king will rise up and use whatever means necessary to reclaim Maxwell lands.”
Harris galloped past again. “Sir James, Sir, James! I’ll save you!”
The lad’s antics made Ailish’s heart twist. Where was the knight now? Was he in harm’s way? Had he raised the army he’d hoped?
Has he thought of me half as often as I’ve thought of him?
“Ye ken,” said Sister Louisa, “Harris will need to be fostered soon.”
“Oh, aye?” Ailish threw up her hands and looked to the skies. “And where might you suggest he go for such fostering