The Ghost (Highland Guard, #12)

by Monica McCarty

It was he who’d had Joan followed. It was he who’d had the church and every churchman inside thoroughly searched until they’d found the bracelet in the offertory. They didn’t know what it meant at first. But after the failed trap, Despenser had taken the bracelet out to show Sir Henry when Sir Adam Gordon happened to walk by. Without realizing the import, he’d caught sight of the lion emblem with the spiderweb and mentioned his nephew had one just like it on his arm, but without the roses. Joan’s fate had been sealed.

THEY ARRIVED AT the castle shortly before dawn. Alex’s mother had taken one look at the half-starved, beaten young woman in his arms—Joan had been asleep and he refused to set her down after she’d woken—and immediately whisked her away. After losing a husband and two sons to the war—her sons in horrific executions—Lady Agnes Seton had endured more than her share of tragedy, but had done it all with a strength that had never faltered.

They were married in the Seton family chapel at Winton Castle shortly after midday on Wednesday the twenty-sixth day of June. Less than forty-eight hours after Bruce had his great victory along the Bannock Burn, Joan was seated at the dais enjoying her own moment of happiness and triumph. She’d done it. She’d not only done her part to help win this war by uncovering key information, she’d helped to bring Alex back into the fold right in time, and found something she’d never thought to have: a future with the man she loved.

THE SPIDER HAD spun her web. Robert the Bruce had lived to see the day that at times—too many times—he feared would never come. Twenty-two years ago, when things had seemed their darkest, he’d learned an important lesson in perseverance from a spider in a cave to never give up. Today that lesson had paid off.

This marriage between the Scot Prince and English Princess was only an added jewel on his crown. But it was a crown that had come at such a cost. Too high a cost, perhaps. As the king sat in the chapel, surrounded by his friends, family, and most loyal followers, he could see the ghosts of those who had given their lives to see this day. Great patriots like William Wallace, Simon Fraser, Andrew Murray, Christopher Seton, and the Earl of Atholl; loyal supporters like Lamberton, William “Templar” Gordon, and Neil Campbell; and the most painful of all, four of his brothers—Edward had died a few years after Bannock Burn in Ireland—two sisters, a daughter released from captivity only to die a year later, and his queen, who’d survived her long imprisonment to give him three children, dying just last year.

There was Tor “Chief” MacLeod, the fearsome leader of the Guard who had rarely left the king’s side during his most perilous hours, and his wife, Christina, who’d once saved Bruce’s life by alerting him to a plot by Comyn. There was Erik “Hawk” MacSorley, the always-jesting seafarer whose skill at evading the English navy had enabled Bruce to flee Scotland and live to fight another day, and his wife, Ellie—Bruce’s sister-in-law—who kept the half-Viking, half-Gael in line. There was Arthur “Ranger” Campbell, the scout with an eerie ability to sense things whose information had enabled Bruce to win a great victory against the MacDougalls, and his wife, Anna—the daughter of the MacDougalls—who had been forced to break with her family to save the man she loved. The next man in line was Lachlan “Viper” MacRuairi, the onetime ruthless mercenary turned loyal supporter, and his wife, Bella, who had spent two years in a cage for her part in putting a crown upon Bruce’s head. Behind them was Magnus “Saint” MacKay, the do-anything Highlander and the toughest man Bruce knew, and his wife, Helen “Angel” Sutherland, the healer of the Guard, who had proved her own toughness when she had led Bruce through the Highlands after being attacked by a team of assassins. Next was Helen’s brother, Kenneth “Ice” Sutherland, the onetime spy who’d brought Bruce key information about the English campaign. He’s also brought the young Earl of Atholl back into the Scottish fold when he’d married his moth...

“We will be ready, sire. Airson an Leòmhann.” The battle cry of the Highland Guard that had rung out more times than he could remember. For the Lion. For Scotland.