“Then don’t act like one,” he said bluntly. “You almost fell off your horse; you’re so exhausted. Damn it, Bella, I told you to get some rest.”
“I did,” she protested. She slumped against him, defeated. “I tried. But I was too excited.”
He wanted to stay angry—angry was safe—but he felt himself soften. “To see your daughter?”
She nodded, a radiant smile lighting her face. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen her.”
There wasn’t anything accusing in her tone, but he felt a stab of guilt nonetheless. “I know.”
As their eyes met in the darkness, a lifetime of memories passed between them. “I don’t blame you,” she said softly. “Not anymore. You were right. If I’d taken my daughter, she might have …”
Her voice was too thick to continue. But he knew what she was thinking. Her daughter might have suffered the same fate as she did—as young Mary Bruce had as well.
“What’s she like?” he said, trying to distract her.
It worked. The smile was back on her face. “Smart. Quiet. Not shy, but reserved. She has her father’s coloring but my eyes.” Her mouth quirked, and she gave him a sly glance. “But I don’t need to tell you that, since you’ve met her for yourself.”
He knew she was referring to the message he’d taken the girl not long after her mother’s departure—a message he’d denied taking. Obviously she hadn’t believed him.
He didn’t bother denying it a second time, but her faith in him after all that had happened surprised him. It caught him off guard. “She’s a lovely girl.”
Just like her mother.
Bella stared up at him as if she could read his mind. His chest tightened. Squeezed tight with an emotion that didn’t belong to him. He’d forgotten this. Forgotten the intensity of the connection and how hard it was to resist her. He had to force his gaze from hers. “Get some rest, Bella,” he said, as sternly as he could muster.
She seemed to want to say something more, but after a moment she nodded. It didn’t take her long to fall asleep. A few minutes later, he felt her body slump into his and heard the soft, even sound of her breathing.
A wave of contentment came over him. He was glad to have her safe, that was all.
If he relished holding her just a little too much, he consoled himself that at least this way they could quicken the pace.
In fact, he might just have to ride with her the entire way back to the Highlands. For her safety as well as theirs, of course.
Bella sighed with contentment, burrowing deeper into the warm coverlet that smelled of leather and spice. She felt so safe and warm.
The eye that wasn’t resting against the coverlet popped open. Her coverlet was of silk, not of leather, and it smelled of lavender, not spice. And she hadn’t slept with a coverlet and been warm since …
She startled, but his arms tightened immediately around her. Lachlan. Sensing her disorientation, he soothed, “It’s all right, Bella, you’re safe.”
Safe. A wave of relief flooded her, followed immediately by one of gratitude. She was out of prison. It wasn’t a dream. He wasn’t a dream.
She leaned her head back to look up at him. “You came for me.” She hadn’t been awake long enough to form her defenses, and the wonder and emotion rang clearly in her voice. “Not just this time but before also. The rescue. That was you.”
Her heart stabbed at the memory. She remembered looking down into the darkness at the two men racing out of the tower after the explosion had woken her. One of the men had looked up. For a moment she’d known, but then she’d told herself it couldn’t be. He’d betrayed her.
But now she knew differently. He hadn’t knowingly betrayed her. She believed him. Part of her had always known.
His jaw tightened. A strange emotion crossed his face. If she didn’t know him so well, she would think it was pain. “I vowed the moment I saw you being loaded in that cart that I would get you out. I just wish it could have been sooner.”
“What happened that day?” He’d given her a brief explanation, but she wanted to hear it all.
He stiffened. She could see from the hardness of his jaw that the subject was a distasteful one. He looked angry, but she knew it was at himself, not her. “I told you most of it. I was angry and not paying as close attention to my surroundings as I should have been. One of Ross’s men saw me near the docks while I was trying to arrange a birlinn. While I drowned my sorrows in a flagon of the local ale, he had time to warn Ross. They followed me from the alehouse, and once they realized where I was going they surrounded me. I put up a fight, but there were too many of them and the drink dulled my reactions. They knocked me out and put me in manacles. I regained consciousness right before you and the rest of the women walked out of the chapel.”
“Chains,” she said. “That’s what William was trying to tell me. He saw the chains.”
Lachlan nodded. “I tried to go after you. Even managed to slip out of one of my manacles before someone noticed. But Ross was watching me too closely. He had reason not to trust me. We’d had dealings before.”
“You were imprisoned?”
“For a few months.”
“But you managed to escape?”
He nodded. “But by that time you were already imprisoned, and I’d learned Bruce was on his way back to Scotland.”
She frowned. “How did you learn that?”
“Bruce had a spy in the English camp. A man I knew. I also learned that Gordon and MacKay were being held at Urquhart. I went south to get some help, caught up with Bruce and the rest of the Guard—”
He stopped. “The army,” he corrected. His jaw clenched even tighter. “It took nearly a year longer for the king to solidify his position enough to risk a rescue. And then when we finally got there, we failed,” he said bitterly, shaking his head. “God, we were so close. I was halfway up the tower with Seton, but a soldier had been using the garderobe and heard us go by. He raised the alarm. Gordon was forced to set off his explosion early. Seton and I barely made it out in time.”
Part of her was glad she hadn’t known how close they’d come. It would have made the disappointment all the more difficult to bear.
“I saw you.” There was a strange hollowness in his voice that she didn’t recognize.
The realization that he’d seen her at such a moment made her feel oddly vulnerable. “I thought I saw you, too.”
Clearly, she’d shocked him. “You did?”
“When you exited the tower and looked up. Another man was pulling you.”
He held her gaze. “Seton,” he said flatly. “I didn’t want to leave.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for coming for me twice.”
His mouth fell in a hard line. “I would have come for you a thousand times.” He looked away, as if he’d said too much.
“Why, Lachlan? Why was it so important to you?” She held her breath. It felt as though they were on some kind of precipice.
But he didn’t leap. “I always finish the mission. No matter what it takes.”
The mission. Finishing the job. Of course that was why he’d come. Not for her. He would have done so for anyone. If her heart squeezed with disappointment, Bella quickly smothered it.
They rode in silence for a while. She was content to lean against him and let his warmth encompass her. The thought of being cold …
Some memories would be harder to forget than others.
The closer they drew to Roxburgh, the more her excitement grew, and the more she started to wonder whether she could rely on Lachlan to keep his word. She knew he wasn’t happy about their detour to Roxburgh—that he regretted giving in to her—and she couldn’t help but wonder whether he’d done so merely to appease her.
Could she trust him? Would he really attempt to take a message to her daughter, or was he only trying to placate her?
Clearly, he couldn’t wait to get out of the Marches. Not that she blamed him. The borders were still under firm Eng
lish control and were a dangerous place for Bruce’s supporters. But she wondered whether something more was at work. She’d never seen him look so wary, even when they’d been hunted across Scotland after Methven and Dal Righ.
When she tried to question him about it, however, he told her that of course he was wary—it was bloody dangerous. They could leave anytime she came to her senses. She glared at him and didn’t raise the subject again.
The full moon was still aglow in the inky sky as the first light of dawn appeared on the horizon. Wisps of mist curled off the river like dragon’s breath. A shimmering blanket of dew glistened on the grassy banks. On their right, to the north, a dense forest of trees—their branches weighed down by lush leaves and moss like a druid’s beard—hugged the side of the road, providing cover in their dark and wizened limbs should the need arise.
If danger didn’t lurk behind every tree and bend in the road, Bella might have appreciated the lush, verdant beauty of the quiet countryside. Instead the forest seemed a sinister jungle of shadows, the river seemed a brewing cauldron, and the crisp dawn air felt eerily still.
But slowly the day opened up. The shadows faded, forced to reveal their secrets under the bright glare of daylight.
Trailing off the road into the trees, Lachlan led them up a small rise and came to a stop. She gasped. Opposite them, on the other side of a valley, lay Roxburgh Castle, spread out like a small city on a triangular knoll of land between the juncture of the River Tweed and the River Teviot. It was a vast fortress of walls, towers, and heavily guarded gates, the likes of which she’d never seen. The castle was reputed to be the strongest along the borders, but she’d never imagined this. Five, six, seven … she counted at least eight towers protecting the main fortress alone.
God in heaven, how could they hope to enter such a place unseen? And how could Lachlan possibly find her daughter?
Lachlan dismounted and conferred briefly with Robbie Boyd—Sir Alex had ridden ahead to see what he could find out from the villagers (his Yorkshire accent would draw less attention)—before turning to help her down. “We wait here until Dra”—he stopped himself—“Seton gets back.”
She frowned, wondering what he’d been about to say, and nodded. But she hadn’t realized how hard it would be, knowing her daughter was near and not being able to do anything about it. The castle—so close she could practically reach out and touch it—was the devil’s own temptation.
Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait long. She’d just finished breaking her fast with a few oatcakes and pieces of dried beef that Lachlan insisted she eat—God, he could be surly—when Sir Alex came riding through the trees. The dour expression on his face didn’t alarm her; she’d grown used to discontent from the once gregarious young knight. The war had changed him. As it had her. Death and suffering made the world seem a far crueler place.
Lachlan must have seen something she hadn’t. “What is it?”
“The wedding was a few days ago,” the knight said. The men seemed to take this as bad news, and she wondered if there was something they weren’t telling her. “Many of the guests have left,” he added.
Left? Bella’s heart dropped. “My daughter?”
Sir Alex met her gaze, sympathy in his eyes. “I don’t know, my lady.”
“Did you see Lady Mary?” Lachlan asked.
Seton shook his head.
Mary? Oh, dear God, no. “What has happened to Mary?”
“Nothing,” Lachlan said quickly, but the twinge of disappointment in his voice made her certain there was indeed something they were keeping from her.
Sir Alex looked at him intently. “There are rumors she was moved south a few weeks ago.”
Boyd cursed, and Lachlan’s expression turned grim. She looked back and forth between them. “What is it? What are you not telling me?”
The men exchanged looks. Boyd’s shrug seemed to serve as some kind of affirmation, and Lachlan explained. “Yours was not the only escape that was planned.”
She sucked in her breath. “You hoped to free Mary as well?”
Was that why he’d agreed to come? She’d thought he’d wanted to help her.
“Not us, but some of the king’s other men. From the sound of it, they were too late.”
Poor Mary! Bella’s heart went out to the girl whose suffering had mirrored her own. It was hard to think of her friends still imprisoned while she had enjoyed freedom for … was it only a day? “But surely they will not give up?”
“Never,” Lachlan said.
The adamancy in his voice proved oddly reassuring.
Suddenly a loud, grating sound drew their attention toward the castle. The portcullis was being raised. From their bird’s-eye vantage, she had an excellent view of the main gate and inner close where, despite the hour, a crowd of people were milling about. Horses were being led out of the stables and a large number of soldiers had gathered.
“Someone must be getting ready to leave,” Sir Alex said.
Bella spun on Lachlan, immediately panicked. “What if it’s my daughter?”
He gave her a steadying look and spoke to her with exaggerated calmness. “There’s no reason to think that. It could be anyone.”
Bella clenched her fists. She didn’t appreciate being treated as if she were unbalanced, or a delicate piece of porcelain that could shatter at any moment. Humored. Patronized. Didn’t he understand how important this was to her? It was all she’d thought of for two years in prison. She couldn’t come this close and take a chance. “But what if it is?” she insisted, not caring if she sounded stubborn. “We need to find out.”
An angry spark appeared in Lachlan’s eye. “We aren’t finding out anything. You are staying right here. I’ll go.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re going in the castle now?”
His gaze intensified. “How else did you think I would get a message to your daughter? I may as well go now, while there is a crowd. The sooner we can get the hell out of here.” He said the last under his breath.
Bella bit her lip, feeling a prickle of unease. All of a sudden, the thought of him getting close to the castle didn’t sit well with her. She didn’t like the idea of Lachlan putting himself in danger for her.
I don’t want anything to happen to him. The realization didn’t take her aback as much as it should. Without the anger and blame she’d used to block out her feelings for him, it was harder and harder to muster indifference.
“How will you get past the guards?” she asked.
“Let me worry about that.” He was already giving instructions to the other two men while removing the arsenal of weapons he carried. He unstrapped the two baldrics that held the two swords he wore across his back, his bow, and the short-handled axe at his waist, which left him with only a pike.
“But …” Her voice dropped off. She couldn’t turn her gaze from the formidable castle.
The motherly instinct to ensure her daughter was safe warred with another part of her. A part she couldn’t identify but that proved surprisingly strong. A part that didn’t want to let him go. That didn’t want him to do something that might put him at risk. And there was no doubt that going into that castle would be extremely risky.
He seemed to sense her unease. “Trust me, Bella. I know what I’m doing. Just do as I say and don’t move from this place until I get back.”
He spoke with such authority, she felt herself nodding like one of his men.
“Do you have the letter?” he asked.
God, how could she have forgotten? She’d spent a large part of the previous day while they waited to leave composing it. She still wasn’t sure she had it right. But she’d been careful to avoid any mention of her release from captivity. Lachlan didn’t want to take any chances in case the letter fell into the wrong hands. Bella’s safety and her daughter’s depended on no one knowing she wasn’t in that convent.
She removed the short missive from the leather bag at her waist—the lad’s garments were proving surprisingly
comfortable and convenient—and handed it to him.
He took it, and their eyes held for one long moment. Like her, he seemed to want to say something but didn’t know what.
She took a step toward him before she stopped herself. She had no right or cause to touch him, but the impulse was still there. The memory of his mouth on hers burned.
But then he turned, snapping the connection.
Trust me. The words echoed in her ears as she watched him scramble down the hill and disappear into the trees.
She’d done that before, and he’d left her daughter behind. As before, she felt the inexplicable urge to put her faith in him. Then it had proved a mistake. What was it about this man that made her want to trust him, when every indication was that she shouldn’t?
Lachlan threaded his way through the crowd of villagers, doing his best to look like a common man-at-arms. He wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary; he’d blended in like this thousands of times. There was no reason to think anyone would notice him. But still he felt uneasy. Exposed. More so than ever before. The hair at the back of his neck was standing on end, for Christ’s sake.
He didn’t understand this strange apprehensiveness. He’d been in plenty of hair-raising situations with the Highland Guard over the last few years. Dangerous, seemingly impossible tasks under extreme conditions were exactly the type of missions for which the Highland Guard had been formed. They were the best of the best. Stronger, faster, better trained, and more experienced warriors who did the things that others feared. Hell, he never even thought about the danger. But the past two days he’d felt …
Realization dawned. Hell, he was bloody nervous.
It was an entirely new and unwelcome feeling. He was one of the most elite warriors in Christendom, and he was acting as jittery as a wet-behind-the-ears squire in his first battle.
His jaw tightened, knowing the cause. Bella. Her presence was the difference. She made him feel—blast it!—vulnerable.
He was letting her get to him. Letting her get too close. He never should have given in to her. He was angry at himself, but it was too late to do anything about it.
The Viper Page 20
