The Raider (Highland Guard #8)(106)

“I feel to blame. I know Sir Alex was trying to defend my honor, but I never meant to get between you.”

“You didn’t. This has nothing to do with you—not really. The problems with Seton and me have been building for a long time.”

“But he’s your friend. I know how difficult—”

“He isn’t my friend.” He looked at her as if she were mad. “He’s bloody Eng—”

He stopped so suddenly, the silence that followed seemed as loud as a clap of thunder.

“English,” she finished softly.

He swore and tilted her chin to meet his gaze again. “That’s not what I meant, Rosalin. I’m just angry. I say a lot of things I don’t mean when I’m angry.”

“Like about marrying me to take revenge on my brother?”

He grimaced, which due to the injuries on his face must have caused him some pain. “Aye, like that. I didn’t mean it.”

“Which part? Marrying me or doing so out of revenge?”

Everything seemed to still: the cool breeze in the night air, the flicker from the torchlight shadowing his face, the sound of their breathing, even the drum of her heartbeat. Her eyes scanned his stony expression, looking for some kind of crack, some kind of softening. She was doing exactly what she hoped she would not have to do—push—but with Cliff about to fulfill his side of the truce, time was running out.

He cupped her face with his good hand—the one bloodied only at the knuckles—and stared down into her eyes. His expression did soften then, and she felt hope swell in her chest. “God knows, I have no right, and it would be a foolish thing to do for many reasons, but aye, if it were possible, I would marry you. The idea of sending you away…” His voice grew so tight, it cracked. “It’s killing me. I would love nothing more than to tell your brother to go to the devil, but too much is resting on this damned truce. We’re close, Rosalin. I can feel it. I can’t do anything to jeopardize that. It’s too important.” He paused. “I can’t let their deaths be for nothing; I can’t let them down.”

Of course he couldn’t. She understood, probably more than he realized. But it was what else he’d said that caused happiness to swell inside her like a big ball of sunshine. A broad smile curved her lips. “Do you mean it?”

Wariness flickered back into his gaze. “Wait, sweetheart—don’t get carried away. Did you hear what I said? Only if it were possible.”

“I heard what you said.” He wanted to marry her. He did love her. Needing to be in his arms, she buried her head against his leather-clad chest and waited for his arms to wrap around her. They did. Even dirty and with the stench of battle upon him, she savored the warmth and masculine strength. But realizing he was probably confused, she pulled back. “It is possible, don’t you see? I will write to my brother.”

For the second time in less than five minutes he looked at her as if she were crazed. “Just like that, and you think he will welcome me into the family?” He laughed without any humor. “It would be a cold day in hell before Clifford sanctioned the marriage of his sister to a ‘rebel’ Scot.”

She shook her head. “You are wrong. My brother loves me and will do anything to see to my happiness.”

“But he despises me. He will never agree to a marriage between us. I can think of only one person in Christendom who he would be less likely to betroth to his beloved sister—and Douglas is already married. You don’t understand, Rosalin—you have not been a part of this.”

“It is you who do not understand. I do not deny the truth of what you have said. He will be angry at first, refuse, and probably try everything he can think of to talk me out of it. But once he understands that I love you, and that you lo—um, care about me, he will agree.”

If he noticed her slip of the tongue, he didn’t show it. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know one thing: the love he has for me is stronger than the hate he bears you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

Her heart pinched. She stared up at him, and for a moment she felt a flicker of doubt. Love was stronger than hate. If he loved her, he would know that—wouldn’t he? She gazed up at him and said solemnly, “But I am sure of it. Let me write Cliff, and you’ll see.”

He studied her face, and she could sense him relenting.

“What harm is there?” she pressed. “The worst he can say is no. He won’t do anything while you have me.”

He didn’t look so convinced.

The pad of his thumb ran back and forth over her bottom lip. “I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

She brightened, sensing victory. “I won’t be. I may have to go to him when the truce is settled and persuade him, but eventually he will agree.”

From the way his arms tightened, she could tell he didn’t like that idea. His lowered his mouth to hers in a brief caress that followed the trail of his thumb. She suspected only the cuts and bruises prevented him from deepening it.

When he lifted his head, his eyes met hers. “Write your letter, Rosalin, and we will see what your brother has to say.”

Twenty-four

The wait for Cliff’s response seemed interminable.

Rosalin knew it was partly because Robbie had not been to her solar since the night of the horrible fight with Sir Alex. She’d slept in his arms after he’d washed and had someone tend his wounds, but they had not made love. She’d assumed it was due to his injuries, but now, two days later, she suspected it had more to do with Sir Alex and his not-so-subtle condemnation.