Ravished by a Highlander

by Paula Quinn

  But the king was not listening to him. His eyes had settled on someone behind Rob, and his face… his face told Rob who it was without having to look.

  “Daughter.” The king barely breathed the word, as if what he was seeing could not be real. His eyes gleamed with tears as he slowly dismounted. “You have changed little since last I saw you.”

  God, nae.

  Now Rob did turn to her and found tears streaming down her face. Instinctively, he reached his hand to hers to comfort her, but she dropped to her knees and dipped her head.

  “Arise, Davina.” The king reached for her, paused as if she might flee, and then gently pulled her up by the shoulders.

  Everyone around Rob ceased to exist—everyone but Davina. He could not move. He could not breathe as he watched her set her shimmering eyes on her father for the first time. Everything in him wanted to snatch her away from the man reaching his fingers to her face. But she closed her eyes, as if the moment she had dreamed about for so long had finally come, and only his touch would prove it real.

  Losing Davina suddenly became more real for Rob than ever before. This was what she wanted. What she had always wanted. Her father. He took a step toward her, but Callum’s hand on his arm stopped him.

  “You will never know how sorry I am for not being in your life.”

  The king’s softly spoken words were like daggers to Rob’s heart. If any other father had uttered them to his wife, Rob would have rejoiced for her, knowing how desperately she needed to hear them. But this father had the power to take her away—and as Davina covered her face in her hands and wept, Rob doubted she would resist.

  That is, until she lowered her hands and looked at him with her whole heart in her eyes.

  Following her sorrowful gaze, King James turned to Rob and sized him up with a worried crease marring his regal brow. “You are Robert MacGregor,” he said, revealing that Colin had told him much. “You are the man who saved my daughter’s life.”

  Looking at her, Rob recalled that wondrous day, and every day after that. It hadn’t taken him long to fall in love with her modest smile, her playful laughter, her glorious eyes always on him, always expecting him to leave her. He never would. But her heart was soft, so very soft. ’Twas yet another reason he loved her. She’d forgiven Asher for betraying her. She would forgive her father too.

  “I owe you much more than I can ever repay,” the king went on, grasping Davina’s hand in his. “You gave me back my life.”

  And you mean to take away mine. Rob did not speak the words aloud. He couldn’t. He couldn’t think of his life without her.

  “MacGregor”—the king turned to Rob’s father—“might you invite us in from the chill? There is much you and I must discuss.”

  Callum ground his jaw and spared his eldest son a sober look before he nodded and gave the command to see to the king and his men’s comforts.

  “Captain Asher,” the king greeted, patting Asher on the shoulder before following Callum inside. “Young MacGregor has told me of your courage, as well. You too will be rewarded.”

  Rob watched them enter Camlochlin with rage clouding his vision. It was not directed at Asher for the praise he’d received. The captain was a coward. Rob knew it, and so did Asher. It didn’t matter what the king believed. Nae, his wrath was directed at his brother, and as Colin tried to step into the entryway, Rob stepped forward and blocked his path.

  They waited in silence until they were alone, and when they were, Colin spoke first. “Brother, I—”

  “Colin,” Rob’s sharp voice cut him off, “from this day on, I am nae longer yer brother.”

  Colin backed up a pace as if Rob had struck him. His eyes rounded with stunned disbelief. “How the hell can ye say that to me? I brought him here through the hills as we have been taught. I—”

  “What did he offer ye?” Rob asked calmly. Too calmly. Anyone else would have backed further away, knowing Rob’s slow temper was about to snap.

  “What?” Colin nearly spat the word at him.

  Rob came at him like a bull, grabbing Colin’s tunic at the throat and hauling him against the wall with one hand and tearing Colin’s sword from its scabbard with the other before his brother could reach for it.

  “Ye told him! Ye told him, Colin! Now, I’ll ask ye again. What did he offer ye?”

  Colin stared at him with his own brand of rage making his eyes blaze like molten gold. “I should run ye through fer what ye accuse me of, brother.”

  He did not blink or cringe when Rob’s fist came at his face. But the blow did not come.

  “Let him speak, Rob,” Tristan said, holding back his brother’s wrist.

  Rob yanked his arm free and turned away, not wanting to hear what Colin had to say.

  “Why did ye bring him here?” he heard Tristan ask.

  “I brought him here because if our faither—or any one of us—believed Mairi was dead and she wasn’t, we would want to know. I heard Davina’s pain of never knowin’ her faither. He heard it too.” He pointed to Rob’s back. “She spoke of him often, did she no’, Rob?” he challenged, but did not wait for an answer. “When I met the king, I had nae intention of tellin’ him anything—”

  “Then why did ye!” Rob shouted, turning to him once again.

  “Because his pain of never knowin’ her was just as great!” Colin shouted back. “She’s his bairn, Rob. He loves her.”

  Rob moved toward him, but now his rage had passed and he stared quietly into his brother’s eyes. “So do I, Colin.” He said nothing else and entered the castle alone.

  “I knew he loved her,” Colin said thoughtfully, looking after him. “We all did, but—”

  “He took her as his wife,” Tristan told him quietly as they headed inside.

  “Och, nae,” Colin stopped and raked his hand through his hair. “He knew who she was. He couldna’ have.”

  “He did, nonetheless.”

  “Damn fool!” Colin swore.

  Tristan tossed him a quelling look over his shoulder and shook his head. “I should have let him hit ye.”

  Davina sat in Callum’s private solar with Rob’s parents, two of the king’s guardsmen standing behind her, and her father. Was he real? Was any of this real? She pinched her thigh twice to convince herself that she was awake. The second time she pinched too hard and jumped a little in her chair. Beside her, the king patted her hand and gave her a tender smile before turning his attention back to Callum.

  “You have a most impressive home, MacGregor. It was clever of you to build here. The landscape makes it virtually impossible to arrive unseen.”

  “Aye, there was need fer such when I built it.” Callum poured four cups of warm mead and handed the first to his wife.

  “Ah yes, during the proscription,” the king said, accepting his drink next. “You were an outlaw and a rebel then.”

  Was this truly her father’s voice she was hearing, his warmth seeping into her skin, his scarred, calloused hand atop hers? Davina wanted to turn and look at him, take in every angle. She’d dreamed of his face and now here it was, just a few inches from her own.

  “Aye,” Rob’s father said, standing over her with her cup. “There was need fer that as well.”

  Davina took her cup with a shaky hand, wishing it was something stronger. Her father had come for her and she doubted he would leave without her. Dear God, help them all. Why did he come now? What was she to do? There was only one thing. But how could she leave Rob, or Camlochlin? Everyone at St. Christopher’s had died because of her. She couldn’t… she wouldn’t let everyone at Camlochlin die for her, as well. She looked toward the door. Where was Rob? He would never let her go if she was forced. Would he let her go if she went willingly?

  “You are trembling, my dearest.” Her father leaned in closer to her, washing her in his scent. “I understand my arrival was unexpected—”

  “I am fine, really,” she said, quickly wiping a tear from her eye. “Just… overwhelmed.”

 
; He smiled at her and Davina took in every crease, every crinkle that lined his comely face. How long had she wondered what he looked like? She thought his hair would be pale like hers, but it was completely gray now. His dark blue eyes were somber, shadowed by years of battle, on the field and off. His nose was long and straight, and his lips were thin, probably not prone to smiling. Until today.

  “I am overwhelmed, as well.”

  Was he? She wanted to believe him. Did kings become overwhelmed by their children? He’d said he had seen her. When? Had he visited St. Christopher’s when she was a child? Why hadn’t she been allowed to see him if he had been there? She wanted to ask him, but smiled instead. He hadn’t forgotten her.

  And it was when she was smiling, as if her life had just become complete, that Rob opened the solar door and stepped inside. The flames in the large hearth trembled at his presence, for he brought the cold with him, spreading it to each of them until his mother bounded from her chair and went to him. She spoke in a hushed voice against his chest, but whatever she said did not comfort him. His anguished, angry gaze remained fixed on Davina.

  He said nothing, nor did he take a seat or pour himself a drink. He simply stood at the door, a barricade of raw brawn and single determination.

  Davina felt faint with the need to go to him, to tell him she loved him and nothing would ever change that, but she would not let him die for her. But it was Rob’s father and not her own who stopped her from moving. With one look Callum spoke to her, reminded her of Rob’s fate should her father learn of her Highland marriage. She was the king’s daughter, whether she liked it or not, and the ruler of the three kingdoms had not cloistered his firstborn in a nunnery to save her for a life as a commoner.

  “Yer Majesty,” Callum said, shifting his powerful gaze to the king, “ye have met my son, Robert.”

  “Briefly, yes,” James said, studying Rob’s scowl with a wary smile. “Tell me, MacGregor, do all your sons share a common mistrust of nobility?”

  “Sadly, nae.” The chief looked genuinely disappointed. “Ye met my son Tristan in England, if ye recall.”

  The king chuckled softly at what could have been construed as an insult. “Knowing most of the nobility in England and Scotland, I’d say you taught most of your sons well.”

  “Aye,” Callum agreed. “’Tis difficult when yer own nephew plots against ye.”

  The king nodded, raising his cup to his lips. “It is only a matter of time before Monmouth is caught, and Argyll as well.”

  Rob made an impatient sound, pulling Davina’s cautious gaze to him. He stood alone, so tall and strong, folding and then unfolding his arms over his chest, the lines of his jaw rigid. The solar suddenly seemed too small with him in it. She was surrounded on all sides by men of great power and skill, but none of them made her heart accelerate, her mouth go dry by the sheer force of Rob’s indomitable strength. Like the mountains that rose up around his home, he was unbendable, unbeaten by the storms that raged around him. He’d protected her when he could have chosen not to, he’d promised to keep her safe, and he had. She felt treasured in his arms, untouchable by his side. If she lost him, she would cast her heart into the sea and never love another.

  Rob ignored his father’s warning glance with a black look of his own and asked boldly, “And Admiral Gilles? What are yer men doin’ aboot him?”

  The king looked up at him without censure, but with refreshed curiosity. “We will find him.”

  “Before he finds her?” The flagrant challenge in Rob’s voice was undeniable.

  “He will never find her here, sire,” Callum interjected before his son spoke again. “And if he does, as ye know now fer yerself, we will see him comin’ long before he arrives.”

  “Leave her here?” the king asked. For a moment he seemed to be considering it, but then his gaze shifted back to Rob. “You have my deepest gratitude for saving my daughter, but I am afraid I must decline.”

  Instantly, Rob rushed forward. Just as quickly the two soldiers standing behind Davina drew their swords.

  “Nae!” Callum shouted together with Davina and Kate, and flung himself in front of his son, shielding his arms around him. “Stand doun, Robert, or would ye have yer mother see our blood spilled before her eyes?” He spoke quickly, quietly, his voice thick with emotion and restraint. “M’ lord,” he turned to look at the king. “Let us discuss this further. Yer daughter’s safety means much to my son. He—”

  “And so does my daughter, obviously.” The king stood to his feet and tilted his head to stare hard into both their eyes. “I suspected this. But she is my heir. Her future has already been decided.”

  “But not by me.” All eyes turned to Davina rising slowly to her feet to face her father. She would not tremble. She would not falter, and she would not cry. Not now. If there was any way to stop this, to stop her father from taking her, or Rob from starting a war he would lose, she had to take it. “Being your daughter has taken everything from me. I love it here, father. I love these people. I beg you, do not take them from me, as well.”

  Her father’s eyes softened on her. “Davina, I give you my solemn oath that you will never want for anything again. I should not have left you to nuns. I have regretted it since the day I handed you over, but God spared you for a purpose, and someday you will fill it.”

  “I know that I must, but it is not what I want,” Davina argued through her tears. “I do not want anything your courts have to offer. Perhaps if I had been raised in them as my sisters were, I would feel differently.”

  “You will come to feel differently,” he said tenderly, but when she shook her head, his voice took on a harsher tone. “And him,” he said, turning to Rob. “Do you love him also?”

  Her eyes darted to Rob, remembering his words to his father. He would never deny her. She looked to Callum next, recalling all too clearly his warning, as well. “I… I know my duty.”

  Over the king’s shoulder, Rob stared at her with a look of such replete sorrow she was certain it would haunt her until her dying day. She would have fallen into his arms had both their fathers not been standing between them.

  “Gather our men,” King James commanded his guards over her head and snatched her hand. “We are leaving.”

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Rage seared through Rob’s blood and was finally unleashed with a groan that nearly brought him to his knees. As if in a dream from which he could not awaken, he watched the king pull Davina toward the door he’d been blocking only a few moments ago. She turned, tugging on the fingers that held her, and looked at him for the last time.

  Rob woke, and with a roar that brought a dozen En—glish soldiers and Highlanders alike to the solar, he leaped for the king.

  His father tried to stop him and both men nearly careened to the floor. Rob met Colin’s horrified gaze as he bounded back to his feet, then followed it downward to the two gleaming swords pointed at his throat.

  “Tell yer men to lower their weapons against my brother,” Colin shouted. “Ye gave me yer word.”

  Rob barely heard him and lifted his arm to swipe the swords out of his way. His wife’s cry stopped him.

  “Please, please, Rob. You cannot die.”

  “I am dead if he takes ye from me,” Rob told her across the length of the blades, desperation hardening his face and softening his voice.

  “MacGregor,” the king warned Rob on a low snarl. “I could take your head right now for this.”

  “Oh, Father, please, don’t let this happen.” Davina closed her tearstained eyes and prayed from the depths of her soul.

  “Daughter,” the king answered, thinking she was speaking to him. “I understand that you feel indebted to this man for—”

  “No, no,” she argued through her tears. “It is more than that. Please, do not harm him. I forgave you for leaving me, but I will never forgive you if you kill him.”

  Her father’s stern expression collapsed at her vow and he looked, for a moment, like he might be
ill. He raised his hand to her cheek and a small, sorrowful sound escaped him when she moved her face away. “Give me a year. One year to know the daughter I’ve not known for over four and twenty. Let me give you all that I have never been able to give you before, and if after that time you are still unhappy, we will discuss a different path for you.”

  When she nodded her agreement, Rob moved against the tips of the blades until two trickles of blood broke the surface. “Davina, dinna’ agree to this, ye are my—”

  “Rob!” Davina held up her trembling hand to silence him before he sealed both their fates. “I have decided. You will let me go.”

  “Nae!” Rob’s eyes darkened on the guards keeping him still. He was going to crack their skulls in half and then step over their dead bodies and kill anyone else who stood in his way. But the instant he moved, Jamie and his brothers threw their bodies into his and held him with the aid of his father.

  “I let you live today, Robert MacGregor,” King James said, motioning for his guards to lower their weapons. “My debt to you is paid. If you come after her, I will have no choice but to have you shot.”

  “Please, don’t,” Davina mouthed silently to her husband as the king hastened her away.

  “Son, she does this fer ye,” Callum hushed, grasping Rob from behind. “She wants ye to live.”

  “Rob, fergive me,” Colin implored. “I will make this—” His apology was cut short by Rob flinging them all off him.

  They all rushed for the door to stop him from going after her. Angus slammed it shut and whirled on his heel to further block the exit, should Rob try to kick the wooden one down. But Rob did not bother. She left. Nae, she chose to leave, just as he had feared. In an instant he had been changed, defeated, broken in two. He turned his back on the men watching him, went to a chair, and fell into it without another word.

  He didn’t hear the door open again. He didn’t care who came in or went out. She was gone. That was all he knew.

  It wasn’t until sometime later, when Maggie pushed open the door and told them that Colin had gone after the king, vowing to make things right, that Rob left the solar with his father, and a whole new fear descended on him.