The Raider (Highland Guard #8)(24)

Fear forgotten, her eyes flashed angrily. “You can’t do that. He’s only a boy. I won’t let you hurt him.”

The fierceness of her voice made him smile. This was more like it. He liked her better like this. It made it easier to remember her brother.

The source of her impassioned defense, however, didn’t look as pleased. The boy was too old to have a woman defending him, and the red in his cheeks suggested he knew it. “Let them tie me up, Aunt Rosalin. I don’t care. They won’t hurt me. Father will kill them if they dare harm either one of us.”

Not a complete whelp, at least. After watching him wield that sword at Fraser earlier and the attempt he’d squandered with a bad plunge of his dagger, Robbie had wondered. But he had no more patience for the lad’s bravado than he had for the aunt’s. “Your father wants to kill us anyway. I assure you it is not the threat of Clifford that will keep you safe.”

“Then what will?” she demanded.

Steeling himself, he met her gaze again. Not that it helped. Every muscle in his body still squeezed. What the hell was wrong with him? It wasn’t as if he’d never seen a beautiful woman before. His eyes dipped. And noticed a spectacular set of…He forced his gaze up and schooled the lust from his body. This lack of focus wasn’t like him.

“My good humor,” he replied. “So I suggest you do not try it again.” Her hand dropped and he felt his pulse return to normal. “But a word of caution about attempting to escape. Your brother’s raids have not exactly endeared him to the people around these parts, and you might not like who finds you. But as long as you are under my protection, no one will harm you.”

“Is that supposed to ease my mind?”

Sarcasm. He liked that, too. He was really seeing Clifford now. “I don’t give a damn whether it eases your mind or not.”

“You have nothing to fear,” Seton interjected gallantly. “You and the boy will be safe for the short time you are here. I will see to it personally.”

Seton might as well have stepped between them and lifted his shiny shield—the effect was the same. He’d just declared himself their champion and made Robbie the enemy.

It was a role he’d been cast in before, so there was no reason it should bother him. There was no reason he should want to rip that shiny shield from his partner’s hand and hold it up himself. There was no reason he should care if she looked at Seton with gratitude.

Except it wasn’t Seton she was looking at, it was him—with the oddest expression on her face. “Please,” she said softly. “Don’t do this. I’m asking you to release us.”

The look made him feel uneasy. It was that feeling that she knew him again. That she was searching for something in his face, but it wasn’t there. That she was waiting for something.

“Why the hell would I do that?”

Her eyes never left his. “Because you owe me.”

He tried to laugh, but it didn’t ease the tension coiling inside him. The feeling that something was very wrong, and that whatever it was, he wasn’t going to like it. “What could I possibly owe Clifford’s sister?”

She lowered her voice, but he heard the one word that changed everything. “Kildrummy.”

Five

The blood drained from Robbie’s face. Kildrummy. A memory stirred. His heart started to pound.

Nay, it wasn’t possible.

It couldn’t be…

But he felt a sinking feeling in his gut. The knowledge of what that ghostly voice had been trying to tell him. Of why she was looking at him as if she knew him and expected him to know her as well.

He swore and closed the distance between them in one long stride. With the back of one gauntleted finger—gauntlets designed to protect him from blades in battle, not silky-soft skin, although right now he was rather glad of the latter—he tilted her face back and forth in the misty twilight.

She didn’t shirk from his touch or try to pull away, holding her finely carved features up to his scrutiny, almost daring him to deny the truth.

Dread churned like a portent of doom in his gut. But he knew. The shadowed lines of her chin and nose left no doubt: it was the young lass who helped free him from prison all those years ago. The lass who from behind her hooded cloak he’d assumed to be a servant. The lass whom he’d tried to find for years so he could repay her. Though it seemed inconceivable, the sweet, young girl whose velvety lips had trembled under his with a chaste kiss had been Clifford’s sister.

The truth slammed like a hammer across his chest, the blow powerful enough to fell even the strongest man in Scotland.

Suddenly, it all fit. He recalled overhearing some of the guards discussing the girl’s unexpected arrival with Hereford’s party, and how she’d been locked up tight in one of the towers like some bloody princess who would be sullied by just breathing the same air as the vile Scots.

It had never crossed his mind that their guardian angel might be Clifford’s precious sister. No wonder Robbie’s enquiries hadn’t turned up anything. He’d asked about the half-dozen young serving women in the Earl’s party, not the ladies.

Their eyes met. “You said you would repay me if we ever met again,” she said.

Seton being the only one close enough to overhear, and the only one who would understand of what she spoke, he uttered an expletive under his breath.