The Ghost (Highland Guard 12) by Monica Mccarty Page B

am quite looking forward to my time at Berwick. I suspect it will prove extremely . . . entertaining.”
    Joan took advantage of the opening. “I’m sure there will be lots of entertainment when the king and queen arrive.”
    He seemed amused by her purposeful misunderstanding, but indulged the shift of conversation. “Aye, I’m sure the queen and her ladies will not wish to be deprived,” he answered. “Even in the midst of war. She loves games and tournaments almost as much as the king.”
    He really was quite handsome, she thought, if a bit too pretty for her taste. When an image of a dark golden-haired knight sprang to her mind, Joan pushed it away. Alex Seton might be her type of handsome, but the past month hadn’t changed her mind about needing to avoid him. Knowing that she would see him here had been her one hesitation about coming to Berwick.
    There was a lot about Alex Seton that made her hesitate. But she told herself there was no reason to overreact. He’d probably forgotten all about her, and it would be easy enough to avoid him. Most likely he would be at Wark Castle, where most of the army was mustering, and not at Berwick with Edward’s commanders. The fifteen miles that separated the two castles would be a good buffer.
    Joan turned her attention back to Sir Hugh—where it should not have left. “You sound as if you know the queen well, my lord.”
    His mouth quirked. “I am more friend to the king than the queen, but aye, I have spent much time in royal palaces the past year.”
    Joan acted suitably impressed. “You did not wish to travel with the royal party on the journey north?”
    “ ‘Travel’ isn’t what I’d call the plodding pace of the royal baggage train,” he said with a laugh. “I journeyed with them as far as Newminster, and then was sent ahead with a message for Pembroke.” His expression changed to dark and annoyed. “I was glad to leave. The squabbling between Hereford and Gloucester would drive a saint to perdition.”
    With that one offhand comment, Sir Hugh had already proven himself useful. Bruce would be interested in knowing that not only were the two powerful earls answering the muster and bringing their impressive retinues to battle, but there was also discord in the ranks. But it was the content of the message that truly interested her.
    “The message must have been important,” she said, dying to ask more but knowing not to press.
    Fortunately, she didn’t need to. “It was.” He seemed to be barely able to contain his glee. “It is no secret now. The siege at Stirling has lifted.”
    Her surprise wasn’t feigned. “It has?”
    He nodded. “Sir Phillip Moubray was granted safe passage and traveled to England himself to bring the king the news.” Joan knew that Moubray was the former Scot patriot now holding the important Scottish stronghold for King Edward. “Moubray convinced Edward Bruce to agree to a truce. They agreed that if the English army doesn’t relieve the garrison by midsummer, Moubray will surrender the castle to Bruce.”
    Joan’s eyes widened.
    Sir Hugh chuckled at her reaction. “Aye, it was a rash move on Edward Bruce’s part, no doubt resulting from the boredom of laying siege rather than a tactical decision to benefit his brother’s army. From what I hear, King Hood was furious.”
    Joan would imagine so. Laying down the gauntlet like that would force King Edward to respond by bringing troops into Scotland. Something to this point that King Robert had sought to avoid. The king must have also been furious that his brother had given up the chance to take one of Scotland’s most important castles before the English came. With Bruce’s recent success in taking back Scotland’s castles from Edward’s garrisons, it was a big prize to concede. It also gave the English a target and date.
    She stopped. Was that the point? From what she knew of King Robert’s only remaining brother, Edward was sometimes rash and overaggressive,