Heart's Thief (Highland Bodyguards, Book 2) (20 page)

Sabine winced when the tent flaps were thrown back and bright morning light shattered the darkness within.

Slowly, she lifted herself from the hay-covered ground. Her whole body ached, but it wasn’t from sleeping on the ground or from the rope that bound her to the tent’s pole. Nay, it was from the sobs that had racked her body all through the night until at last she’d collapsed, spent and trembling.

She slid her hands up the pole slightly so that she could raise a palm against the sharp light pouring in at the front of the tent.

A large, dark form stood silhouetted in sunlight between the tent’s open flaps. For a heart-stopping moment, she thought it was Colin, but as her eyes adjusted, she realized that it was the guard who’d escorted them here last night.

The guard stepped into the tent and silently set about untying Sabine’s hands.

“What is happening?” she croaked, her voice rough from crying. She swallowed and tried again. “Where are you taking me?”

“Edward Bruce wishes to see ye,” the guard replied gruffly, not looking at her.

Sabine’s stomach dropped like a stone. Edward must have taken the night to consider what to do with her, and now he’d decided on his judgement.

“W-what does he have planned for me?”

The guard didn’t answer as he unwound the last of the rope from around her wrists. He wrapped a thick hand around her upper arm and lifted her to her feet as if she weighed naught.

Fear surged through her veins. Had she been sentenced to death for spying? Would such a harsh judgement come so swiftly? And what of her punishment? Was she being dragged to her death at this very moment?

She tugged against the guard’s hold, but she might as well have been trying to move a mountain. His grip was firm and unwavering as he pulled her toward the tent’s flaps.

Sabine had to throw a hand up to shield her eyes once more as they emerged into the harsh light of morning. The activity from the evening before had ceased, though several soldiers stared at her as she was marched through the maze of tents.

She straightened her spine and clenched her teeth in the face of their looks. If she was going to her death, she might as well try to be brave.

She smoothed her battered dress, but the garment was far from looking presentable to stand for judgement. When she lifted a hand to her face, her eyes were swollen from crying herself to sleep. Her hand slid down to her lips, which trembled slightly. So much for being brave.

When they reached Edward’s tent, Sabine dragged in a breath, at last finding her courage. She’d done wrong, she knew. She’d hurt people, mayhap even cost people their lives when she’d worked for Fabian. And she’d betrayed the one person who’d ever truly loved her. She could only pray that someday, Colin would find a way to forgive her after she was gone.

The guard held back the tent flap and released her, motioning her inside.

On wobbling legs, she stepped into the tent.

Kirk stood to the left, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes unreadable as they took her in. Edward Bruce was bent over the wooden table in the middle, his attention focused on the maps strewn there.

And Colin stood off to the right.

When their gazes locked, she inhaled. Dark purple shadows sat under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept a wink last night. His tawny mane of hair sat unbound and disheveled around his shoulders. Golden bristle covered his hard-set jaw. Like Kirk, his eyes were unreadable as his gaze swept over her.

Edward straightened from the table. “We’ve had some news, lass, and I thought ye had a right to hear it.”

News? Sabine wasn’t sure what Edward meant, but she nodded unsteadily.

“A few of my scouts traveled south to Louth overnight, where I’d planned to relocate my men. I’ve been keeping an eye on Richard de Burgh, though he hasnae made a move in over a fortnight. De Burgh still holds his position just south of Louth, but my scouts noticed some strange activity to the west.”

Edward stepped around to the front of the table, then propped himself on its edge, all the while holding her with his gaze.

“Apparently, another force had assembled in alliance with de Burgh—a force led by Edmund Butler.”

Sabine gasped, her mind skittering back to the missive she’d memorized.

De Burgh is not your only enemy…

He seeks to lure you south to Louth…

Hold your position…

Edmund Butler has joined de Burgh
.

“My scouts say that Butler and his army were moving in the dead of night to avoid detection. They must have learned that I was mobilizing my forces and had hoped to ambush us,” Edward went on.

Sabine’s heart leapt inside her chest. “So…so the message I delivered. It…it…”

“It saved the lives of countless numbers of my men, lass,” Edward said, straightening from the table. “Yer words proved true.”

The air suddenly rushed from her lungs as relief crashed over her. The inside of the tent spun wildly, and her trembling legs gave out from beneath her.

She crumpled toward the ground, but before she reached it, Colin’s strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her and cradling her against his chest.

His warm, piney scent brought her back from her swoon. Her arms involuntarily looped around his neck and she clung to him, silently praying that he would never let her go.

“I…I helped,” she breathed.

An unfamiliar warmth spread from her chest through her limbs. It was pride, she realized—pride that she had done something to help people rather than harm them, pride that she had played a small part in Scotland’s fight for freedom.

“Aye,” Edward said, drawing her attention. “And I plan on taking my brother’s advice as well. We are headed north, for Butler’s alliance with de Burgh leaves the region undefended by Irish troops still loyal to England. As my brother says, the locals there will welcome us now that the English are away.” Edward smiled faintly. “Robert will no doubt be greatly pleased at this victory.”

“I’ll give the order, milord,” Kirk said, stepping forward. As he strode around Colin, who still clutched Sabine in his arms, Kirk tilted his head slightly to her. The small display of thanks sent a fresh wave of pride through her.

“Can ye stand?” Colin’s voice rumbled softly through his chest and into hers.

“Aye,” she said reluctantly.

He set her carefully on her feet, but kept one hand gently wrapped around her elbow to steady her.

“As far as I’m concerned, ye should be thanked for yer help in avoiding the trap Butler laid for me,” Edward said, “though I gather I dinnae ken the full extent of the web ye are tangled in.”

“W-what will you do with me, milord?” Sabine asked.

Edward rubbed a hand over his eyes and sighed. “To be honest, I dinnae ken, lass. I’ve asked Colin for his opinion, but he has been strangely silent on the matter.”

She gazed up at Colin. A storm rolled across his sea-blue eyes.

He cleared his throat. “I havenae given my opinion because I fear that…that I am too emotionally ensnared in this situation to have a clear view of things. I am no’ sure if I can form a fair course of action.”

Edward’s gaze sharpened as he looked from Colin to Sabine. He grunted, though Sabine thought she detected a slight curve around the corner of Edward’s mouth.

“I see. Well, since my brother is the one ye must ultimately report to, I am tempted to let him decide what the correct path is in this situation. Do ye believe yerself fit to take the lass back to the King for final judgement, Colin?”

Colin’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his face drawn taut. “Aye, milord.”

“Good,” Edward said, walking back around his table. “I would invite ye to stay and rest from yer journey for another night, but I want to mobilize my men and head north as soon as possible. We’ll no’ be here in a few hours’ time.”

“I understand, milord. I can be ready to depart immediately.” Colin glanced at Sabine, his gaze filled with unspoken concern. “Do ye have the strength to go on, lass?”

A little tendril of hope tried to push its way through the rubble and ash in Sabine’s heart.

She’d prayed that Colin would find a way to forgive her, but had assumed that would only happen after she’d been sent to death. Yet the traces of tenderness he showed toward her allowed her hope that mayhap there was still a chance to earn his forgiveness before she faced whatever judgement the Bruce would have for her. Even the pain in his eyes revealed that he still felt something for her. The thread of hope budded, taking hold in her chest.

“Aye,” she said softly. “I am strong enough to go on.”

As the days slipped by, Colin watched the light of hope that had glowed in Sabine’s eyes back in Edward Bruce’s tent slowly fade.

It was his fault, damn it all. Yet he could not let himself succumb to his love for her.

He told himself it was wrong to love his enemy, wrong to believe her after all her lies and deceptions. But the truth that would not be stifled in his heart was that he was afraid. He feared that if he let himself love her, the loss of her to the Bruce’s judgement would be his final undoing.

His mind had run itself ragged over the last four days as he tried to guess what the Bruce might do with Sabine.

She could be hanged for treason without hesitation. She could be imprisoned for the rest of her life as punishment for stealing missives. Colin still believed the Bruce would not resort to torturing her, though she would be ordered to reveal all she knew about Fabian and his organization.

He didn’t let himself dwell on the possibility that the Bruce might show leniency given the fact that she’d saved countless lives in Edward Bruce’s army. Just as he let her hope die slowly in the face of his silence and distance, he quashed his own hope that things could end well for them.

They’d made the crossing back to Scotland uneventfully. The ferry used to transport both men and livestock had been slow but effective enough in getting them to Portpatrick.

Colin had retrieved Ruith from the town’s stables. The stallion looked as glossy and well-fed as Colin had ever seen him, and he thanked the stable master for the animal’s care.

Then they’d set out heading east toward Lochmaben. Sabine made no attempt to escape. She seemed resolved to facing her fate in Lochmaben.

Although they likely could have stayed at inns along the way, Colin simply couldn’t muster the energy to smile kindly at an innkeeper or form another lie about traveling with his wife. So they kept off the roads and to the woods, making camp in silence each evening.

The nights were long and cold sleeping across the fire from Sabine, but the days on horseback with her were far worse. Having Sabine pressed between his legs, their hips moving together with Ruith’s strides, had him gritting his teeth and praying for a swift journey to Lochmaben. He cursed his traitorous body for its undeterred desire for her.

But far more painful than denying his physical need for Sabine had been turning a cold shoulder to her when she tentatively placed her hand on his forearm, or when she gazed into his eyes with unguarded hope written on her delicate features.

Each time he brushed off her touch, or shifted his gaze away, or let the silence sit heavy and black as a storm cloud between them, he saw the light dim slightly in her eyes. He knew she hoped that a seedling of love still budded in his heart. Aye, it did, but it grew in poisoned ground. He could never let it take root.

On the fifth day after they’d departed from Ireland, Colin guided Ruith slightly to the south. Sabine seemed to come out of the torpor that had settled over her during the long stretches of silence. She straightened slightly in the saddle before him and looked around.

“Why are we going south?” she asked softly.

Colin unclenched his jaw. “We are near Dumfries. I dinnae want to draw too close in case we are recognized.”

“Oh,” she replied. Laden silence settled over them once more.

Colin scanned the forest for a good place to make camp. Somewhere in this tangle of woods, he’d chased Sabine down and taken her captive. How could he have known then that she would be the one to capture him, mind, body, and soul?

He shoved the melancholy thought aside as he dismounted and helped her from Ruith’s back. She touched his hands where they were wrapped around her waist.

“Colin…” She looked up at him with a plea in her hazel eyes.

This would be one of their last nights together before reaching Lochmaben. If he had aught to say to her, now was the time.

Colin fisted his hands and jerked them from her waist, turning away.

“Colin!” she said again, her voice rising with desperation. “You promised never to hurt me.”

He turned back to find her breathing hard, her eyes ablaze with frustration. It was as if something had finally snapped in her.

“You promised never to hurt me,” she repeated, “and yet you have been so cold, so distant since—”

“Since I learned that ye’d read the missive.” The words came out wearily, for Colin felt more heartsick than angry.

“Aye,” Sabine said. “And though you seemed to soften toward me that morning in Edward Bruce’s tent, I feel like—” Her voice strained, growing thin. “I feel like I am being abandoned all over again. First by whatever family I had as a child, then by Fabian, and now by you.”

The thought of being compared to that bastard sent a sudden bolt of hot anger into Colin’s gut. Yet somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew the anger should be at himself, for he’d hurt her with his selfish withdrawal.

“We cannot go on like this,” she went on. “Please, just talk to me. I know there is still love between us.”

“What would ye have me say, Sabine?” he ground out, feeling his tight rein on control suddenly slipping away as raw emotion surged within him. “That I still love ye? Aye, I do. But it doesnae make a difference.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am still turning ye over to my King’s judgement!” he barked. “Because ye are still my enemy, whether I want it to be so or no’.”

“But why has that made you so cold to me?” she demanded. “I know I must go before the Bruce. I know I have done wrong. I feel as though I am finally doing
right
in facing the consequences of my actions, and in—” Her voice caught, but she forced herself onward. “And in loving you.”

“What would ye have me say?” he asked again, his own throat tightening. “Mayhap I cannae stand the thought of loving ye, only to lose ye.”

Her eyes rounded in surprise at his words. He, too, was shocked at the raw admission. He dragged in a breath, trying to steel himself against the storm threatening to break within his heart.

“I am afraid, too,” she said quietly, holding his gaze. “When the guard came to fetch me to Edward’s tent that morning, I feared that I was to be executed right then.”

She shook her head slightly as if to rid herself of the dark memories before going on.

“And I am afraid of what awaits me at the Bruce’s hands. I am afraid to lose you. But that doesn’t change the fact that I love you.”

He drew in a sharp breath at the vulnerable honesty of her words.

“I don’t know what the future holds,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m willing to take a leap of faith, to risk loving you anyway.”

All at once, the old scar deep in Colin’s heart tore open. Her softly spoken words might as well have been a sword driven straight into the wound that had never quite healed.

He’d been afraid for so long—afraid to trust, afraid to love, and all because he’d been hurt once many years ago.

Aye, Joan had broken his heart, broken his trust with her betrayal. But that had been eight long years ago. Why did one woman’s actions still control him so profoundly?

He’d shaped his whole life around avoiding trusting people again, avoiding being hurt. All the charm, the lighthearted smiles and flirtatious winks, had been naught more than a shield, he realized. He used them to keep people at bay, to protect himself from ever truly caring about someone again.

Yet Sabine had broken through that shield. She could bring him to his knees with a word or a kiss. Despite everything standing against them, love had taken hold in both their hearts.

Colin stood on a precipice. Behind him was the life he’d known—a life of charm and manipulation, of guarding his heart against threats. A familiar life, but a lonely one.

Before him lay the vast expanse of the unknown—a future where he may lose Sabine, but one in which he let himself fully love her. He knew in a flash of clarity what he wanted—nay, what he needed.

“I broke my vow no’ to hurt ye,” he rasped. “And for that I must beg yer forgiveness. It seemed safer to retreat, to withdraw from what I felt than face the risk of opening my heart again only to be hurt—to have ye torn away. But I see now how selfish I’ve been, fleeing into myself, fleeing from what lies between us.”

Tears shone in her eyes as he spoke. She nodded slowly for him to go on, her throat bobbing with a hard swallow.

“Ye humble me with yer bravery, lass,” he murmured, touching her velvety cheek with his thumb. “Ye of all people have every right no’ to trust or love. Yet ye bestow both upon me. I… I want to take that leap of faith with ye.”

A heart-rending smile broke over her face as the tears slipped freely down her cheeks.

“I willnae abandon ye ever again,” Colin went on, forcing the words around the emotion tightening his throat. “I dinnae care that we are supposed to be enemies. I love ye, Sabine. I love ye.”

She launched herself into his arms so forcefully that the air rushed from his lungs. He buried his face in her rich tresses, dragging in the soft scent of her hair. His arms clamped her to him so hard that she, too, had the wind knocked from her.

As he squeezed her still closer, his heart twisted painfully. In a day or two, he would deliver her to the Bruce and he might never see her again.

“I have wasted so much time,” he breathed, nuzzling her ear. “So much time that I could have been kissing ye, holding ye, telling ye just how much I love ye.”

“I don’t know what the future holds for us,” Sabine whispered, her voice muffled against his shoulder, “but I will not waste another second we have together. I love you too, Colin.”

“Aye, no more wasted time,” he said, drawing back from her.

She gazed up at him, love shining in her green-gold eyes.

“I need ye, Sabine,” he said, his voice growing husky. “God, how I need ye.”

Something shifted in the air around them, and all at once Colin’s blood flared with desire.

Longing flickered in the depths of Sabine’s eyes as well. Her lips parted, her breath growing shallow with anticipation.

That was all it took to snap Colin’s control.

He dipped his head, taking her lips with his.