The Raider (Highland Guard #8)(50)

He didn’t want anyone he took to bed to be different or special. And sure as hell not an Englishwoman—especially that particular Englishwoman. He had no intention of playing a part in some romantic tragedy, and that’s all it could ever be between them.

With no particular destination in mind and still too restless to return to the manor and attempt to sleep, Robbie started to climb the Manor Hills toward Dollar Law. Though the dark shadow of the mountain was lost in the mist, it loomed over the valley like a vigilant watchdog.

By Highland standards the gentle, rolling hills of the Southern Upland range that dominated much of the Borders were relatively easy climbs. Dollar Law was one of the highest peaks in the area, probably coming within five hundred feet or so of the Cuillins, where the Highland Guard “trained” (more aptly, suffered), though well short of the great Ben Nevis. Still, by the time he reached the top, he was winded and feeling a burn in his legs.

As the summit was free of mist, he took a seat on the stones of the summit cairn and watched the darkness of night give way to the breaking of dawn.

By the time the first glimpse of sunlight appeared to his left, casting a soft orange glow across the valley below him, Robbie knew what he had to do. Rosalin Clifford could not stay. She might wish to not leave her nephew, but after what had happened—or nearly happened—her wishes no longer mattered. He had to do what was best for his mission, and right now, getting her far away from him was what was best.

He glanced toward the castle just visible beyond the trees in front of him. He would take her to Peebles as soon as she woke, and—

He stopped, squinting into the distance. Peebles Castle was less than ten miles away, and with the low mist it was difficult to see, but he’d glimpsed some kind of movement. A short while later he saw it again, only this time he’d seen the banners and unmistakable glint of silver that told him what it was.

He raced back down the hill and through the woods to the manor. Seeing the same men he’d left a few hours before, he shouted orders for them to ready the rest of the men.

Climbing the stairs to the chamber where he’d left the lass and the lad, he saw Seton perched in the same spot Robbie had been before he’d heard the noise that had taken him into the room.

His partner immediately got to his feet. “What’s wrong?”

“English soldiers are heading in this direction from the castle. We need to go.”

Seton swore. “You’re certain it is us they are after?”

“Nay, but I’m sure as hell not sticking around to find out.”

He knocked on the door, surprised when she immediately bid him to enter. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t slept much last night. Pushing open the door, he saw her sitting on a small stool by the brazier, her hands folded in her lap. She glanced up at him, and their eyes caught. He saw the question, saw the hurt, the confusion, and felt an unwelcome seizing in his chest.

Her skin was pale, her expression serene, her golden hair shimmering in the morning light. She looked so achingly beautiful, he knew he would remember her like this forever. Because this was where they would say goodbye. He wouldn’t need to take her to Peebles Castle with the English heading this way.

“Wake your nephew,” he said. “We need to leave.”

She stayed perfectly still, barely reacting to his pronouncement. “I can’t do that.”

He crossed the room, took her by the elbow, and lifted her to her feet. “It wasn’t a request, my lady. There is a party of English soldiers headed this way, and although I don’t object to killing Englishmen, I’d rather not have you and Roger in the middle of a battle.”

She wasn’t looking at him and wouldn’t meet his gaze. It was so unlike her, it made him uneasy.

He released her, dragging his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry for what happened last night. I should never have—” He stopped. Christ, he felt like he was Roger’s age, apologizing for stealing a kiss with his first lass. Except it hadn’t been just a kiss he’d nearly stolen. “It won’t happen again.”

“I can’t wake Roger because Roger isn’t here.”

It took him a moment to realize what she’d said. “What do you mean he isn’t here?”

She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze full on. “I made a rope out of the bed linens, and he climbed out the window.”

Robbie went completely still. His eyes searched her face. Surely, she couldn’t be serious. That climb was at least a forty-foot sheer drop into a rocky ravine. The idea that the boy would take such a risk was so ridiculous, so preposterous, he didn’t want to believe it.

But it was true. He could see it in the cool, unflinching repose of her face.

“Are you mad?” He exploded. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? The boy could have fallen to his death.” It wasn’t until the next thought struck that he realized he was shaking her. “You could have fallen to your death.” Bloody hell. “That’s it, isn’t it? That was the noise I heard. You were on your way out that window as well?”

Even as she gave him a short little nod, the other truth was hitting him. Rage crashed down on him like a hot, black hammer with a crushing blow. His fingers tightened around her arm. “You did it on purpose,” he snarled from between clenched teeth. “You deceitful English bitch, you threw yourself at me so I wouldn’t discover the lad was gone.”