The Raider (Highland Guard #8)(122)

“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.

Epilogue

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.