The Raider (Highland Guard #8)(30)

His gratitude was so graciously given, she could not refuse it. She bowed her head. “You are welcome.” Her gaze slid over to Boyd, who was still locked in conversation with the Black Douglas, and she shivered reflexively. “I wish all felt as you do.”

She turned back to Sir Alex in time to see his mouth harden. “I tried, my lady. If it were my command, you and the lad would have never been taken.” He paused, a tinge of resentment sneaking out. “But it isn’t my command.”

“Thank you for trying. Is there nothing more that can be—”

She stopped, stiffening, as a dark shadow fell across her. Good gracious, how had he gotten there so quickly?

She didn’t need to look to know who it was. The strange hum along her skin and spike in her pulse identified him. She resisted the urge to glance up and confirm it, guessing that her disinterest would bother him.

If the sharpness of his voice was any indication, it did. “Time for bed, my lady.”

There was nothing suggestive in his tone, but her stomach did a little flip anyway. She smothered a sharp intake of breath but wasn’t able to stop her face from paling. She looked up at him and knew from the glint in his eyes that he’d guessed her thoughts and was taking devilish pleasure in discomfiting her.

Why was he so angry with her? The dark look he directed at Sir Alex made her wonder if it had something to do with him.

“I’m not tired yet.” It couldn’t be much past seven o’clock. She stretched her feet close to the fire. “And my shoes aren’t dry.”

“If you wish to be returned to see your brother in the morning, you will go to bed now.”

Her shocked “What?” was drowned out by the half-dozen or so louder ones coming from the men around her. She didn’t know who was more stunned: her, Sir Alex, or the Black Douglas.

“You are releasing us?” she asked incredulously.

“Not ‘us,’ you.”

The Black Douglas exploded. “You can’t release her! Clifford will give his left arm for the chit.”

Rosalin’s gaze had immediately slid to her nephew on Boyd’s pronouncement. Although Roger was trying valiantly not to show his fear among the enemy warriors, she saw his face pale. Her heart went out to him. Despite the height and armor, he was still only a boy. As terrified as she was, she would not leave him.

“No!” She didn’t realize how loudly she’d spoken until all the men turned in her direction. With so many eyes upon her, heat rose to her cheeks. “I won’t go,” she said in a more moderate tone. “Not without Roger.”

Robbie struggled to control his temper. Something he seemed to be doing quite a bit around Lady Rosalin Clifford. The lass was as bad as Seton.

Though he’d overheard only the last few words, it wasn’t hard to figure out what they were talking about. He might be impressed at how quickly she’d identified a sympathetic ear if he weren’t so furious about it. The last thing he and Seton needed was more discord between them; it was even more reason for the lass to be on her way.

He should have guessed after the way she’d refused to let go of the boy in Norham that she would be difficult about this. Her protectiveness toward the lad was commendable, but God’s breath, did she have any idea of the concession he was making in letting her go with nothing in return? Douglas wouldn’t be the only one who was furious—the king, too, would have some questions. Questions Robbie would be hard pressed to answer without revealing what she’d done for him. Something that he suspected she might not want known.

But the lass was right. He did owe her. And Robbie Boyd always paid his debts. That was one thing all the English could bloody well count on.

He would still have the lad. Clifford would pay with or without the lass.

He tamped down the urge to tell her that the matter wasn’t open for debate and instead turned to Seton. “Take the lad to the cave and get it ready for the night. I want two men posted at the entrance at all times in four-hour shifts.”

Robbie saw the frightened exchange of glances between the lass and lad and wasn’t as immune to their unwarranted fear as he wanted to be.

“But—”

He didn’t let her finish. “Your aunt will be along shortly,” he said to the boy, relieving them both. “Lady Rosalin and I have something to discuss.” He looked at Douglas and Randolph. “Alone.”

The boy looked to her, and she nodded. “Go. I’ll be fine. The captain has given us his word that no harm will come to us.”

From the way her gaze flickered to Douglas’s, Robbie suspected she’d said it just as much for his friend’s benefit as for his.

With obvious reluctance the boy did as he bade, casting worried glances over his shoulder until he disappeared into the misty darkness.

Randolph and Douglas followed with nearly as much heel digging. “You and I will talk later,” the latter said in a voice that promised a reckoning.

There were perhaps a handful of men in this world who would not be intimidated by a threat from the Black Douglas; Robbie was one of them. He met his friend’s gaze unflinchingly. Douglas might not like it, but that wasn’t going to stop him from letting the lass go.

The exchange, however, had a different effect on Lady Rosalin. The fear that she’d been making such an effort to contain returned full force. She watched Douglas walk away as if he were a snake coiled and ready to strike. As soon as he was gone, she turned to Robbie. “What does he mean to do with us?”