The Raider (Highland Guard #8)(119)

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?”