The Raider (37 page)

“I wouldn’t bet on it.”

Rosalin scowled at her brother. “Bride abduction should suffice, Cliff. No embellishing.”

He made a face, but didn’t argue. “I assume you can find your way out?”

Robbie nodded. He should have some help soon. “Aye.”

“Then make good use of the time I’m about to give you.” He turned to Rosalin. “Give me a hug, sweetheart.”

Rosalin ran into his arms, and Robbie felt his chest squeeze as he watched them. The bond between the two siblings was strong, and he swore he would do his damnedest never to interfere with that again.

No matter how much it killed him.

After a long moment, Clifford let her go. He gave Robbie one more look. “Hurt her again and not even Bruce’s phantoms will be able to protect you.”

Despite the irony of that particular threat, Robbie believed him.

A moment later the door closed behind him.

Rosalin had been overcome with emotion since the first moment he’d been pushed into the room. It had taken everything she had not to run to him, especially when she’d seen the damage inflicted on him by her brother’s soldiers.

Then, realizing that he’d surrendered to show his trust for her…it was too much. But the breaking point, the point when she knew he really loved her, was when he’d vowed to let her talk about Cliff—even alluding to the children he didn’t know he was having.

She crossed the room, putting her hand on his cheek. “Your poor face.”

He grinned. “I’ll let you fuss over me all you want, once we are out of here. But first…”

He slid his hands onto her hips and brought her against him. The next moment his mouth was on hers and he was kissing her with passion that bordered on desperation.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and crushed her body to his, needing to feel his heat and strength.

He groaned, kissing her deeper, sweeping his tongue in her mouth with long, ravenous thrusts.

Her body ignited with heat, her skin drawing tight and prickly, her nipples hardening, and dampness gathering between her legs in a pool of molten need.

He cupped her bottom, holding her against his hardness. The desire became overwhelming. Her body started to move against his, seeking the sweet relief of friction.

He tore away with an oath. “God, you are killing me. But we need to be ready, and I doubt your brother left us here so I could take you in his guardroom with these.” He lifted his chained manacled wrists.

“Ready for what?”

“You’ll know it when you hear it. What time is it?”

She looked at him quizzically. “I don’t know. It was near sunset when I came in. They will be calling for vespers soon, I’d imagine. I forgot about the manacles. How are we supposed to get out of here with your hands chained?”

He smiled, stepped on the chain with his feet, and pulled until his muscles seemed strained to the breaking point—but it was the iron that snapped. He’d broken the chain in two. He laughed at her expression. “It’s a little trick I learned to impress the lasses.” Rosalin wasn’t even going to comment on that. “But we’ll have help.”

“The other phantoms?”

His expression went utterly still. He just stared at her.

“Did you not think I would figure it out?” She shook her head. “Really, Robbie, I’m not blind. I’ve seen you fight. I’ve seen the markings and the demonic-looking helm. I heard Sir Alex call you Raider once. I figured that was your war name. It’s appropriate, by the way.”

He was still stunned. “How long have you known?”

“A while. Sir Alex told me I shouldn’t tell you I knew.”

His expression darkened. “The traitorous bastard probably hoped you’d tell your brother. God knows it won’t be a secret much longer.”

From his expression, she could tell that he’d taken Sir Alex’s defection even harder than she’d anticipated. “He didn’t betray you, Robbie. He just stopped believing in the same things. He will keep your secrets, just as I would have kept them.”

“There are other ways—”

“You mean the tattoo? You need not fear discovery that way. He removed it—or obliterated it, really.”

The information didn’t have effect that she’d hoped. Instead of allaying his fears of betrayal, it only seemed to make the betrayal worse. As if the markings were some kind of sacred bond that Alex had just run a knife through.

“He’s in London,” she said, knowing he was too proud to ask. The sting was too raw right now, but she hoped over the years to help him understand and accept what Sir Alex had done.
Years
…

“Did you mean it, Robbie?”

“What part,
mo ghrá
?” He slid his hands around her waist again and drew her in tightly. His voice grew husky. “That I love you? Aye, I meant it. And I intend to do everything I can to prove it to you until you never have to ask again. You were right—I need you. I didn’t realize how much until I arrived at that village and knew how close I’d come to making a horrible mistake and realized how far I’d strayed from the man I used to be. I’m going to be that man again, Rosalin. And if I forget, you will be there to remind me.”

She smiled, tears of happiness filling her eyes. “I believe you. You must love me if you agreed to let me sing Cliff’s praises. I can be quite long-winded, you know.”

He shuddered, getting that sour-distasteful look on his mouth.

“And when you complimented him, I had no doubt of it.”

“The hell I did!”

She laughed. “I wish you could have seen your face when he said you would have to name our son Cliff. Although it does have a nice ring to it.”

He rolled his eyes with a groan. “Christ, Rosalin, don’t even jest about it. I still haven’t recovered.”

She took his hand and put it on her stomach. “I suppose there is close to nine months to decide.”

Robbie was an exceptionally smart man, but it took him a minute to realize what she meant. His face lost every drop of color. He stared at her with something resembling horror in his eyes. Then his face crumpled. If she’d ever doubted his ability to feel emotion, she never would again. He looked like a man who’d been shattered. He held her tightly, and she could feel his chest shaking.

“I’m sorry. Oh Christ, I’m sorry. I never thought…I should have thought. You would have paid the price, and I could have lost you both.”

She knew the way his mind worked, and he was probably twisting it in some way to think about his sister. She put her fingers on his mouth to stop him from saying any more. “I love you, Robbie. It’s not the same. And you came for me in time. In rather dramatic fashion, I might add.”

She jumped when she heard a sound like thunder.

“That’s our signal,” he said, taking her hand. “Time to go.”

Cliff had taken care of the soldiers at the door. Smoke was everywhere and people were running all over the bailey. It was remarkably easy to slip around the buildings unnoticed in the chaos. Near the pit prison Robbie let out a sharp whistle, and two men appeared a moment later.

Though she’d seen Robbie in his phantom garb before, the sight of two giant warriors in those faceless looking nasal masks startled her.

“It’s all right,
mo ghrá
. They are friends.”

“I see your damned fool plan worked,” one of the men said dryly, and then bowed to her. “My lady.”

Robbie hugged her closer to him possessively. “Aye, Chief.”

Rosalin gave him a secret smile. “I thought it was rather romantic.”

“Smart lass,” Robbie said with a grin.

“We’d better go,” the second warrior said. “This isn’t the first time we’ve used this particular distraction, and we don’t want to overstay our welcome. It was good of you to not make me go into that damn hole again, though.”

Robbie winced. “Aye, well, I did get a chance to sample Berwick’s finest accommodations for most of the last twenty-four hours. I can see why you aren’t anxious to return. I’ll need help with these,” he said, holding up his hands.

The second man removed something from the sporran he wore at his waist, and in seconds the iron manacles fell to the floor.

They made their way to the postern gate, where four other phantoms were waiting for them. The men exchanged a few gestures and Robbie shook his head. A few minutes later, Rosalin realized why, when the two men who’d stayed to guard the gate were knocked out by hard claps to their helms with the pommel of a sword rather than killed. A few moments later, she was whisked into a waiting
birlinn
.

She was helped in by another man wearing a bow across his shoulder.

“So this is your Englishwoman,” he said with a low whistle of appreciation.

Robbie wrenched her fingers rather forcibly from the other man’s gauntleted hand. “Stay the hell away from her, Arrow. I mean it. That face of yours won’t look so pretty when I’m done with it.”

Rosalin was surprised when the other man replied under his breath, “I should be so lucky.”

They took a seat on one of the wooden storage chests near the back of the boat.

In all, including Robbie, she made out ten shadowy figures. To a one they were big, muscular, and menacing-looking. Indeed, were it not for Robbie holding tightly to her waist, she would be terrified.

The man holding the ropes that controlled the sail looked to Robbie. He grinned, his teeth gleaming white in the moonlight. “Glad you could join us, Sir Robert.”

“Sod off, Hawk, and sail. Get us the hell out of here,” Robbie said, but there was something in his voice that sounded like embarrassment.

She looked up at him, her brows drawing together. “Sir Robert?”

Aye, he looked distinctly uncomfortable. Boyishly uncomfortable, like Roger had when discussing the girl from Norham. “It’s nothing.”

She waited patiently.

“It was a stupid idea.”

She continued to wait. As she suspected they had a long boat ride ahead of them, she had all night.

He sighed. “I was trying to think of ways to prove to you how I felt.” Their eyes met in the darkness. “The king has been offering to knight me for years. I finally accepted.”

For her. He’d done that for her. She knew how he felt about knightly codes and chivalry, but he wanted to show her that he was still the young warrior she remembered. He didn’t need a knight’s spurs to prove it to her, but she was moved nonetheless. “Oh Robbie, that is sweet.”

He cupped her chin, tipped her head back, and placed a tender, almost reverent kiss on her lips. Despite the cool sea air, a swell of warmth rose inside her.

But apparently, she’d spoken too loud.

“Aw,” the captain said from behind them. “That is sweet, Raider.”

Robbie swore.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“He’s never going to let me hear the end of this.”

“Is that so bad?”

“You have no idea.” He shook his head. “But it’s worth it. You are worth it. If I can make peace with your brother, I can put up with that arse’s prodding for a few hours. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. Anything.”

Rosalin couldn’t resist teasing him one more time. “Clifford Boyd. It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

He shuddered, and then kissed the teasing words right from her mouth.

Kilmarnock, Ayrshire, Dean Castle, All Saints’ Day, November 1, 1312

Rosalin had vowed she wouldn’t scream, but the cramping, stabbing pain took her by surprise. How could something so wonderful hurt so badly?

The sound tore from her lungs, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

It was happening much faster than she’d expected. Too fast. She desperately wanted Robbie to be here. But he was away on a mission, and “Cliffy,” as she called their unborn child, had decided to make his appearance a few weeks early. A messenger had been sent to Douglas when her first cramps had begun last night, but Rosalin didn’t know whether it would reach her husband in time.

The last months of marriage had brought her more joy than she could have imagined. The king had given Robbie some land and an old tower house in Kilmarnock for his faithful service, and they stayed there as much as they could when they weren’t at one of the royal castles with Bruce and the other phantoms. She still called them that, even though she knew they referred to themselves as the Highland Guard.

She’d become close with the other wives. There was something about secrecy and the danger of the missions their husbands undertook that created a special bond among them. They were united in fear when they were gone, and in relief when they returned.

But the woman she’d become closest to was Helen MacKay, formerly Sutherland. When “Angel” wasn’t accompanying the phantoms on a mission, she spent most of her time at the nearby abbey in Ayrshire with Rosalin, helping to set up the refuge they’d established for unwed women who were with child. Helen’s skill as a healer made them a natural team.

It was Helen who tended her now. And Helen to whom she voiced her fears. “Will he make it in time?”

The other woman squeezed her hand. “The babe will be here when he is ready. Whether his father arrives in time or not, I don’t know. But it will be all right; just keep breathing.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. “I want him here.” She sounded like a petulant child, but she couldn’t help it. Selfishly she needed him. She needed his strength to get her through this. The hardest part of being married to a warrior was the time he spent away. Not that she would change it for the world. She was so proud of Robbie. He was still more brigand than knight, but hatred and vengeance no longer drove him.

“I know you do. He will be here if it is humanly possible—or superhumanly possible, knowing him. But he left me here to take care of you.” Helen smiled. “Although
left
is probably not the right word.”

“Ordered?” Rosalin managed between pained breaths.

“Aye, that’s better.”

Rosalin’s face darkened with worry. “You should be there with them.”

What if something happened to one of the Guardsmen and Helen wasn’t there? Rosalin would never forgive herself.

Helen lifted a brow. “Do you think your husband would be of any use to them if I wasn’t with you? He’d get them all killed, which is why they all insisted I stay here with you. Besides, I have a secret.” She smiled conspiratorially. “I won’t be going on many missions for the next nine months or so.”

Rosalin’s eyes widened. “Oh Helen, a child? That is wonderful!” She managed to hug her friend for a moment before another pain took hold. She was still breathing hard when she asked, “So Magnus finally convinced you?”

Helen smiled. “He’s been patient. More patient than most men would have been. We’ve been married for over three years. But, nay, it wasn’t Magnus. It was seeing all the children at Dunstaffnage during Beltane.” She shrugged. “I realized I was ready. I love my work, but I want to be a mother, too. I hope I can do both. If I waited for the war to end I might be an old woman.”

Bruce was slowly increasing his hold on the throne, but they were still waiting for the decisive battle.

“Of course you can do both,” Rosalin said. “I’m so happy for you.” But then another pain wracked her and her face contorted in a grimace. When it had finally passed, she added, “Although after seeing this so many times, it’s hard to believe you would ever put yourself through it.”

“The rewards are worth the pain.”

“Says the woman not screaming like a banshee with sweat rolling down her face.”

Helen laughed. “And still you manage to look beautiful.”

Rosalin didn’t even deign to respond. For the next hour, pains grabbed hold of her stomach and held. They became longer and more frequent in duration. She was exhausted but excited, knowing that after the long wait their babe was almost here.

“You have to start pushing,” Helen said.

“No, please not yet. Robbie wants to be here.”

“Trust me, you are better off that he’s not. Men are no use in the birthing chamber.”

Suddenly, they heard a sound outside. Helen rushed to the tower window and smiled. “It appears you will get your wish after all.”

Rosalin returned her smile until another pain took hold, and she cried out.

A moment later her husband burst into the room. He looked horrible and wonderful at the same time. He was caked in dirt, his
cotun
flecked with God-knows-what, his eyes were wild, and his face was taut with fear. But she’d never been so happy to see him in her life.

He rushed to her side, kneeling at the edge of the bed. “God, Rosalin, are you all right?”

“I’m having our baby.”

Some of the fear slipped from his face, and he managed a small smile. “Aye,
mo ghrá
, I can see that. Or hear it, rather.”

“It hurts.”

He looked at Helen.

“She’s fine,” the other woman assured him. “Now that you are here—”

But she didn’t get a chance to finish. Robbie glanced over at the floor to the pile of bed linens that had been removed after her water broke, and blanched.

He started to sway, and Rosalin grabbed his arm. “If you swoon, Robbie Boyd, I swear to you I will tell Hawk, and you will never get a moment’s peace. And then I will tell my brother. How do you think it will sound in England if it becomes known that the strongest man in Scotland faints at the sight of a little blood?”

“
Your
blood. It’s
your
blood.” But the threat had worked. He looked more solid and some of the color was returning to his face. “And I wasn’t going to faint.”

Rosalin and Helen looked at each other and laughed.

“I told you they were useless in the birthing room,” Helen said, and then looked at Robbie. “If I have to set up a bed for you, I’m not going to be happy.”

Robbie scowled at her. “I can do this. Please, I want to be with her.”

He held Rosalin’s hand as the next pain grabbed her, and the next. Somehow having him there helped. It still hurt like Hades, but the edge didn’t seem quite so sharp.

When it was time to push, Helen told him to make himself useful, and he supported Rosalin from behind as she bore down.

She lost track of time. It seemed to go on forever. She didn’t think she’d ever been so relieved when Helen said, “Almost there. One more big push.”

Rosalin gritted her teeth, with her husband whispering encouraging words in her ear, and called on every last ounce of strength to deliver their son into the waiting arms of her friend.

The angry little cry a moment later was the most beautiful sound Rosalin had ever heard. Tears sprang to her eyes.

There were tears in Helen’s eyes as well. “It’s a boy, and he is perfect.”

Rosalin felt the relief in her husband’s body as well as her own. They looked at one another wordlessly, at an utter loss.

After detaching the babe from the placenta and tying the cord, Helen bundled the child in a soft wool plaid and handed the red, squalling infant to Rosalin.

He had a downy tuft of dark hair, but that wasn’t what provoked her to say, “He looks like you.” She looked up at her husband, who was staring at the child as if he’d never seen anything so magnificent. “He certainly has your temper.”

Robbie stroked the baby’s tiny head with the back of his finger. His voice was thick when he said, “What shall we call him?”

She smiled. “I thought…” He gave her a look that said “don’t say it.” But she’d always known exactly what they would call him. “I thought Thomas.”

Robbie held her stare, and the emotion that passed between them was sharp and poignant with the memories. Their child would bear the name of the friend who had unknowingly brought them together. Every time they looked at their son, he would remind them of the love that had been so hard fought and won. At all costs.