The Raider (36 page)

Robbie didn’t know what he would do if he came face-to-face with his former partner, but it wouldn’t be pretty. “I’ll pass on the message.”

He left the forest on foot and without his armor and weapons, hoping he would need them to fight his way out of here later.

Thirty minutes later, after he gave his name to the guard at the gate, Robbie’s trust in Rosalin was put to the test.

Irony worked in mysterious ways. Two days after her conversation with Cliff in his solar, Rosalin had decided to keep herself busy by helping the nuns at the hospital at St. Mary’s Priory. On the first day, she met not one but two young women who were heavy with child. One had been abandoned by the man she thought intended to marry her, the other had been raped when rebels raided her village.

Rosalin discussed with the abbess the possibility of setting up a special home for women who found themselves in such circumstances. The abbess was immediately amenable to the idea. The need was great, but the hospital was equipped for travelers and the infirm, not as a sanctuary for women with child. With Rosalin’s patronage and financial support from her brother, the priory would have a place to send them.

The irony arose a few days later, when Rosalin realized she had missed her menses for the first time in the eight years since she’d begun them. Were it not for her brother, she might have needed one of those beds. Not that she relished informing Cliff of her condition. There would no longer be any question—if he had any—of what had happened between her and Robbie.

Once she got over the immediate shock and fear of what it meant—she would be disgraced and a harlot in the eyes of the Church—she felt a small glimmer of happiness kindling in the darkness of her despair over losing Robbie. A babe.
His
child. He had given her a family after all. Someone who needed her for love and protection. It might not be the family she’d dreamed of, but she knew better than anyone that they could make do. She was going to love this babe with all of her heart and be happy.

Nearly two weeks after she’d arrived at Berwick, Rosalin was at the hospital, finalizing the details with the abbess and trying to figure out how she was going to tell Cliff about her predicament without having him send an army to kill Robbie, when she heard the first whisper.

“Captured.”

She paid it no mind until about an hour later, she heard another. “Devil’s Enforcer,” one of the nurses said.

Rosalin froze. Trying to maintain as much dignity as she could—even though she’d clearly been eavesdropping—she asked the woman, “Did you say something about the Devil’s Enforcer?”

“Did you not hear, m’lady?” the young novice said. “They’ve captured Robbie Boyd.”

Her heart stopped and sank at the same time. “Who has captured him?”

The girl gave her an odd look. “Why, your brother, my lady.”

Rosalin barely heard the last word. She was already out the door on her way back to the castle. By the time she burst into her brother’s solar, she was out of breath, flushed, and her brow damp with perspiration. “Tell me it isn’t true.”

Cliff lifted his head from the document he was studying and sighed. “I guess you’ve heard.”

“So it is true? You’ve captured him?”

“Not exactly.”

“What do you mean, not exactly? Is he here or isn’t he?”

“He’s here, but I didn’t capture him. The bast—man,” he corrected, “walked in here of his own accord.”

“He did
what
?” she screeched incredulously.

Her brother shook his head. “He walked in here demanding to see me.”

“And what did he say?”

“I don’t know. I thought I’d give him time to think about it for a while.”

Rosalin narrowed here eyes. “And where is he doing this thinking?”

As if she didn’t already know. Cliff could be every bit as ruthless as the “brigands” he complained about. “In the pit prison.”

“Cliff! How could you?”

His mouth hardened. “He’s lucky I didn’t string him up by the bollocks for what he did to you. One night in the pit prison won’t kill him. Unfortunately.”

“I want to see him.” Seeing his expression, she added, “And don’t think about refusing.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with heavy sarcasm. “Why wouldn’t I want my little sister within arm’s reach of one of the most dangerous men in Scotland?”

She stared at him until he relented.

“Very well, I’ll have him brought up to the guardroom. But I’m warning you, Rosalin, I’m not making any promises. I’ve waited too long for this day.”

What time was it?

Robbie blinked into the pitch-black darkness, wondering at the wisdom of his plan. He’d anticipated the possibility of spending some time in the Berwick pit prison; he’d just hoped to speak to Clifford before being unceremoniously dumped into a hole.

As he was alone, he assumed that meant Seton had convinced them of his earnestness. His mouth hardened, not wanting to think of his former partner.

How much time did he have left? He had no way of knowing precisely without the aid of daylight, but he suspected only an hour or two at most. If Clifford’s curiosity didn’t get the better of him soon, Robbie’s Highland Guard brethren would be here to break him out before he even had a chance to plead his case.

Assuming they
could
get him out.

At least they would know where to find him, he thought wryly. MacRuairi was intimately familiar with the place, having spent some time here a few years back after helping free his now wife from captivity.

Robbie was more relieved than he wanted to admit when he heard someone fumbling with the latch. A few moments later, the door was thrown back and a rope lowered. With his injuries, it took him longer than it should have to pull himself up the ten feet or so to the top.

Chained manacles were slapped around his wrists by two grim-faced but silent soldiers the moment he stood outside the opening. Without explanation he was dragged outside the small anteroom, through another room, and pushed through an arched doorway into what looked to be the guardhouse at the main gate.

He heard a familiar gasp the moment he stumbled inside and he jerked his head up with surprise.
Rosalin!
Their eyes met and all the fear, all the longing, all the love he had for her hit him with the force of a thunderbolt.

A moment later when she looked to her right with a scowl, Robbie’s expression hardened as he became aware of the other person in the room.

“What did you do to him?” she demanded to her brother.

Clifford—the bastard—shrugged with a smirk he didn’t bother to hide. “A few of my men were a little overzealous when he identified himself at the gate last night. After what he’s done, he should consider himself lucky.”

“Go to hell, Clifford.”

“If anyone is going there soon it won’t be me. I’m not the one in irons.”

Rosalin frowned. “Take those off him, Cliff. I told you he wouldn’t hurt me.”

Clifford met his gaze; they both knew the chains weren’t for her protection. “I don’t think so,” the other man said. “Let’s hear what he has to say first.”

Rosalin took a step toward him. She looked so damned beautiful it took his breath away. But there was a fragility to her in the paleness of her cheeks and dark shadows under her eyes that hadn’t been there before, and any punishment Clifford might have meted out couldn’t compare to the guilt he felt knowing he’d been the one to put it there.

He half hoped she’d rush into his arms and tell him that she’d missed him. But she didn’t, and he had no right to expect it. Not after their last parting.

For once, the expressive eyes that had always seemed a window into her thoughts were shuttered to him.

He couldn’t have lost her. He wouldn’t countenance it. She’d given him her heart, and he wasn’t going to let her take it back.

“What do you want, Robbie?” she asked.

“You.”

Clifford made a low growl and took a threatening step toward him, but Rosalin caught him by the arm. “Please, Cliff. I want to hear what he has to say.”

Clifford gave her a long look before moving back. “It had better be good.”

Robbie ignored him and looked at Rosalin. He would have preferred to say this without an audience, but he supposed he should be glad he was getting a chance to speak to her at all. He’d expected to have to plead his case to Clifford.

“I’m sorry. I should have trusted you. I made a mistake, and I’m here to try to make it right.”

He turned to Clifford and squared his jaw. “I want to marry your sister.”

“No.”

Robbie gritted his teeth together. The bastard was enjoying this. “Rosalin said you would do anything to make her happy. She asked me to trust her. I do. That’s why I am here.” She made a sound, and he turned to see her eyes widen with surprise, and then slowly start to shine with what he hoped was the first glimmer of forgiveness. He turned back to Clifford. “Was she wrong?”

Clifford turned to Rosalin. “Christ’s cross, Rosie-lin, why the hell did you tell him that?”

“I never thought he would do something so foolhardy.”

“Or romantic,” Robbie put in.

He wasn’t sure whether she heard him. “I did give him my word,” she said to her brother.

Clifford made a face, and then glared at Robbie. “She wasn’t wrong. I just don’t think you can make her happy.”

He crossed his arms and gave Robbie a smug smile, as if challenging him to convince him.

Robbie’s fists clenched. He felt the manacles straining around his wrists and thought it was probably smart that Clifford had kept him chained. But a glance at Rosalin took the fight out of him. If they were going to have any chance, he and her brother were going to have to find some way to put years of hatred behind them.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can either, but I love her, and I swear to you I will spend every minute of my life trying—even if that means putting aside our enmity. She loves you, and I won’t do anything to get in the way of that. You protected her and looked after her when others in your position might not have, and for that you deserve credit.” His gaze met Rosalin’s. “I want you to be my wife because I love you—it doesn’t have anything to do with him or revenge. It never did. I was just too blind to see it. If you want to spend the next fifty years singing his damned praises, I’ll listen. I might not agree, but I’ll listen. Our children will call him uncle.”

“Oh Robbie.” Something sharp and tender sparked in her eyes, and the next moment she was in his arms—or at least as much in his arms as he could manage with the chains. The feel of her all soft and warm pressed against his chest released something inside him. He felt as if a dam had broken, and all the fear, all the longing, all the love he had for her came rushing out. He tucked her satiny head under his chin, pressed his lips on her hair, and let the warm scent of roses wash over him.

There was so much he wanted to say, but the emotion was too thick in his throat.

Clifford made a sharp scoffing sound. “I’m not convinced yet.”

Rosalin unwrapped herself from his chest to turn on her brother. “Cliff, what more do you want from him? He put his life in your hands because he trusted me, and I’ll not have you—”

Clifford held up his hand, cutting her off. “I have a few conditions.”

Rosalin’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What kind of conditions?”

Clifford’s gaze softened. And at that moment Robbie knew he’d won. She was right: her brother her loved her more than he hated Robbie. He wanted her happiness, even if it was with the man he’d been trying to capture for years.

“That he promises to bring you to England as often as you like. I want my children to know their aunt, and I need to see for myself that he keeps his promise.”

Rosalin turned to Robbie.

“Agreed. As long as it can be done without putting Rosalin in danger.”

Clifford nodded.

“What else?” Robbie said.

“You name your firstborn son Clifford.”

Robbie froze. He looked at the other man as if he were mad. Rosalin laughed and elbowed him in the ribs. “He’s teasing you, Robbie.”

Christ, he’d probably permanently damaged his heart, it had stopped for so long.

Clifford smirked. “As it appears I’m going to have to suffer the humiliation of letting you escape again, your reputation is going to suffer as well. Whatever story I come up with to tell Edward, you aren’t going to dispute it.”

“I suspect I will play the dastardly villain in this tale?”

The other man smiled. “Of course.”

Robbie swore. “Agreed. I doubt my reputation can get any darker.”