But what if it takes two years? God in heaven, how had her mother done it? Joan’s appreciation for her mother’s strength after what she’d endured at the hands of her English captors increased immeasurably. It also helped keep her from crawling into a ball of despair and giving up. Joan had the blood of one of Scotland’s greatest heroes running through her veins; she would not let her down. She would not fall into a fit of despair and hopelessness. She would stay strong.

But it was hard.

Down here in the darkness and cold, with barely any food and only the tantalizing trickle of water that seeped through the rock walls when it rained, she wasn’t sure whether they meant to freeze or slowly starve her to death. Perhaps they meant to do both.

And then there were the rats. God, how she hated the rats. The vicious, sneaky, vile creatures that waited until she was at her weakest to sink their sharp teeth into her. She’d fashioned weapons out of old bones—she tried not to think too much about those—and gathered rocks to build a defensive wall around her when she slept. It didn’t keep all of them back, but it slowed them down.

But even worse than the rats was not knowing what was going on outside of her prison. The only face she saw was that of the guard as he tossed down the occasional crust of dried bread or scrap of meat. But he didn’t speak to her, and he certainly didn’t tell her what they meant to do with her, or what news there was of the battle.

Had the English made it to Stirling in time to relieve the siege? Had Bruce waited for them? Were her friends alive? And most painfully of all, what had become of Alex? Had he ever looked back? Had he regretted the way they’d parted, as she did? Would he come looking for her or had he already put aside in his heart the woman who’d betrayed him?

For one horrible moment when they’d confronted her with her bracelet and accused her of being the spy, she actually thought Alex had done his duty and turned her in. Had he followed her and intercepted the bracelet before it reached Lachlan? Was that how he’d lured Lachlan into meeting him?

But Alice’s tears and sobbing apologies had quickly pulled that knife from her heart. Alex hadn’t betrayed her, Alice had. Her cousin had managed to convey that much before Joan had been taken away. Why she’d done it, Joan didn’t know, but she’d obviously come to regret it. Unfortunately, not before the damage had been done.