The Viper (Highland Guard #4)(52)

He was glad to see the rush of healthy color to her pale cheeks, but her voice had risen with emotion as well. He held his finger to his mouth to remind her of the guard. “I didn’t betray you.” He cut her off before she could argue. “I know what it looked like, damn it, but I didn’t tell Ross where to find you. I was angry after I left you at the chapel. I wasn’t being careful, and one of his men caught sight of me down by the docks, trying to arrange a birlinn. They followed me to the edge of the church lands and surrounded me before I could warn you. It might have been my fault, but I didn’t betray you.”

She didn’t look as though she believed a word he said. Hard blue eyes bit into him. “That’s quite a coincidence. They just happened to see you, recognize you, and guess that you would lead them to us?”

“There was nothing coincidental about it at all. They were waiting for us.” From the flicker in her eyes, he knew he’d managed to surprise her. “We were betrayed, but not by me.”

“Then by whom? As I recall, you were the only one not in chains.”

He ignored the jibe. He had been in chains; she hadn’t seen them from where she stood. “Do you remember the blacksmith and his sons bringing grain into the Great Hall at Kildrummy the night before we left?” She gave an impatient nod. “He overheard our plans and sold them to the English. They knew we were headed north. The blacksmith was the one to light the fire to the grain in the Hall a few days later that forced Nigel to surrender.”

He saw the flash of pain on her face and knew she’d learned of the fate that had befallen the men at Kildrummy. After the castle surrendered, most of the garrison had been put to the sword. Nigel Bruce had been brought to this very castle at Berwick, where he’d been hanged and beheaded. He hoped to hell she hadn’t been forced to witness it.

But the treacherous blacksmith Osborn had received his just reward. The gold he’d been promised had been melted down and poured down his throat by the very English soldiers he’d betrayed his countrymen to help.

“That’s a nice story, but I saw you with Ross. He told me that you owed him a debt and that we were payment.” Her voice shook. “How could you, Lachlan? I know you cared nothing for me, but what about the others? What about the children?” Her voice broke, and the sound tore at something deep and impenetrable inside him. “Do you know what they did to Mary?”

Her words flayed; he felt as if layer upon layer of skin were being stripped away. Every day for two years he’d thought of nothing else. She couldn’t blame him any more than he blamed himself. But although he accepted his responsibility for what had happened, he hadn’t betrayed her. “I was the payment of debt, Bella, not you. Ross meant to kill me, and would have done so had I not escaped. Gordon told me what Ross said, and what you thought, but I was in chains. He tried to tell you as you were being taken away.”

A soft cry escaped from her lips. “William is alive?”

“Aye, as is MacKay. They were imprisoned, but we were able to free them before they were killed.”

“We?”

He shrugged carelessly to cover the slip. “A few of Bruce’s guardsmen.” He left it at that. She knew nothing of the Highland Guard, and he intended to keep it that way. Even were he inclined to break his vow of secrecy—which he wasn’t—her life was in enough danger as it was. Knowledge like that could get her tortured. A fact of which he was well aware.

For a moment, the hint of a smile softened her expression. “I’m glad,” she said. “Margaret was unable to find out anything, and I thought …” Her voice dropped off as she turned to stare back out the window into the sunset.

She thought Gordon and MacKay had suffered a similar fate to those of the Earl of Atholl and Nigel Bruce.

She drew a deep breath, as if trying to get herself under control. When she turned back to him, her face was expressionless. “Very well, you’ve said your peace, now leave.”

A sound at the door drew his attention. Probably the guard wondering what was taking so long. “Damn it, Bella, we don’t have much time. I swear I’ll explain everything to you when I get you out of here.”

She drew back as if scalded. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Thinking that she still didn’t believe him, he pulled the ring off his finger and handed it to her. He’d hoped to be able to convince her on his own but hadn’t wanted to take any chances. “Here,” he said. “Proof that the king has sent me. He said you would recognize it.”

She handed it back to him with barely a glance. “I care not how much Robert is paying you to rescue me, or whether you are speaking the truth. I have no wish to be rescued by you or anyone else.”

Lachlan couldn’t believe it. Two hellish years fighting to get here, and she didn’t want to leave? Was this some kind of bad joke?

He took an intimidating step closer.

She stood her ground, staring up at him with those big blue eyes flashing their challenge. Blood pounded in his ears. The temper he’d been struggling to hold flared. His hands itched to circle her arms and shake some bloody sense into her.

If he thought he could do so without kissing her, he might do just that. But he didn’t trust himself to touch her. Not the way he was feeling right now. He was too raw, too frustrated, and too damned aware of her. He was trying to be patient and gentle, but while he might be dressed like a priest, he sure as hell wasn’t a saint.