The Raider (30 page)

“Well?” The deep, powerful voice held a note of expectation, and something else that she treasured for the gift it was: teasing.

She schooled her features into blank repose and managed to find the strength to tilt her face to meet his gaze. “I stand corrected. It
was
possible.” When he’d rolled her into his lap and told her what she could do, she hadn’t been so sure.

“And?”

She nodded, seeming to consider. “Yes, definitely an improvement.”

He cocked a brow, challenging her assessment. Her stomach flipped. God, he was handsome. He looked every inch the brigand with his bed-rumpled hair, piercing blue eyes, dark stubble, and bruised right cheek, sustained in some kind of skirmish when he’d been riding out yesterday. There was a small cut, too, and she suspected he’d taken a blow to his still injured ribs as well, but he’d refused to let her “fuss” over him. Stubborn brute.

He told her little of what he’d done the past two days they had been at the castle. He rode out every day, she assumed to scout and do whatever it was he did to enforce the king’s authority in the Borders. In the afternoons, he and his men practiced in the yard. Only at night did he come to her.

She feigned ambivalence. “How many times is that now? Three? Four?”
Five
.

His eyes narrowed, but she saw the glint of amusement. “I guess it depends on how you want to look at it. By my last count, eight.”

Rosalin couldn’t prevent the heat from rushing to her cheeks. The rogue! He was counting how many times he’d made her shatter!

She harrumphed and pursed her mouth primly. “Ah yes, well, maybe by the time you get to ten it will be, what did you call it…
enjoyable
?”

“
Spectacular
, brat.” He gave her a playful swat on her backside. “You do wonders for a man’s confidence.”

Her mouth twisted to hold back a smile. “I wasn’t aware you needed an improvement in that area. From what I can see from the window when you are practicing, you have plenty of confidence boosting going on out there.”

He frowned until he realized to what she was referring, and then a broad smile curved his mouth.

The boyish grin slammed right into her heart. If she ever needed proof of how much he needed her, it was right there. For a moment, she could almost see what he might have been like had war not stolen everything away from him. Happy, relaxed, teasing.

“You’re jealous,” he said, looking much too pleased with himself.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

She tried to toss her nose up in the air but he caught her chin. The amusement was gone from his expression. “You have no reason to be, Rosalin.”

Admittedly, he’d paid little attention to the steady flock of women who seemed to find any manner of duties to attend to in the yard whenever the infamous Robbie Boyd was training with his men. But it was still difficult for her when the other women were out there, and she was once again watching him from a window. Only at night did he belong to her.

“I know,” she said. “But can you blame me? They are free to watch you, while I am…” She shrugged. “I feel like I’m at Kildrummy again.”

She could tell he didn’t like the comparison. “I’m trying to protect you. It is safer for you in here when I cannot be with you.”

“That’s exactly what Cliff used to say.”

He
definitely
didn’t like that comparison.

But he surprised her with his response. Actually, he shocked her speechless. “Well, he was probably right. You had no business being in Scotland at such a time. What was he thinking to let you come?”

It must be snowing in hell: Robbie Boyd was in agreement with Lord Robert Clifford. It would be cause for celebration if the subject of that agreement weren’t locking her up in a tower. He was staring at her, apparently waiting for her to answer. She pursed her mouth. “He didn’t exactly agree to let me come visit.”

He had an extremely discomfiting way of remaining dauntingly expressionless yet still conveying danger. “What do you mean?”

“My guardian, the earl of Hereford, was ordered to Scotland by the king, and I convinced him to take me along.”

“Into the middle of a war?” he roared, his expression no longer so expression
less
.

“The war was over at the time, if you’ll recall. Or at least it was thought to be over. Bruce’s men were scattered. Bruce himself had fled Scotland.”

“Aye, I seem to recall the period,” he said dryly.

She bit her lip, embarrassed. Of course he did. “The countess and a number of other ladies were going; I saw no reason why I shouldn’t join them. I hadn’t seen Cliff in almost two years, and I missed him desperately. I knew he would keep me safe—and he did. Just like I know you will keep me safe.”

He held her gaze, and she knew he was thinking of what had happened—or nearly happened—that night at camp with Uilleam. And no doubt about his sister. “Not always.” His voice was oddly thick.

“No, not always. But no one is safe always. Even locked in a tower,” she added with a wry smile. “And that is not a way to live.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute, and then switched the subject. “How old were you when your parents died?”

She propped her chin up on his broad chest and stared at him. It seemed like an innocuous question, but she got the feeling it was anything but. “I was four when my father died. My mother followed him to the grave before the year was out.”

He appeared surprised—and troubled. “I didn’t realize you were so young. There were just you and your brother?”

She nodded. “There were other babes, but all but one were lost in the womb or infancy. I had a brother who was a year older than me, but he died about a year before my father. Each death took a little of my mother’s heart, and after my father died I think she just lost the will to go on.” She smiled. “I missed her—or maybe the idea of her—for a long time. But in truth, Cliff was more of a mother to me. Mother, father, and brother all rolled up in one. I followed him around everywhere; I don’t know how he tolerated it.”

“But you were separated?”

She nodded, her face shadowing at the memory. “They had to drag me crying and screaming out of his arms when I was sent to live with the earl. I didn’t understand why I could not be with Cliff while he went to squire. I was too young to understand about rights of wardship and marriage. But the de Bohuns were kind to me, and Cliff visited or sent for me when he could.”

Absently, he twisted a lock of hair around his finger. “You were lonely, though.”

She frowned, slightly taken aback by the observation. But then she shrugged. “Perhaps a little. More after I returned from a visit, especially after he married Maud and had the children. But with Cliff in the north and me in London, it had been some time since I’d seen any of them. I was only allowed to travel because of the wed—”

She stopped, feeling his muscles tense, and caught her bottom lip with her teeth, cursing the inadvertent reminder.

“Because of your wedding?” he finished, surprisingly calmly.

She nodded, and peered into his eyes intently. “I meant what I said, Robbie. I will not marry him. No matter what happens.”

Their eyes held. It was one of the rare times in the past two days that she’d referred to the uncertainty of their future—or whether they even had one. By unspoken agreement they’d avoided any discussion of what would happen when the Black Douglas and Sir Alex returned. It was as if neither one of them wanted to disturb the fragile peace they’d constructed around them with talk of retaliation, truces, her brother, or the war.

Did he want a future with her? He’d shown her in countless ways with his tenderness and gentleness that he loved her. But he’d never actually said the words. Nor, she was painfully aware, had he mentioned marriage.

Whatever his intentions were, Rosalin did not want to push. She knew she needed to give him time. He might not realize yet what he wanted. What she’d tried to do the past couple of days was show him how wonderful it could be, shower him with love, and make him see all that he’d been missing. How there was more to life than war. How he could still do his duty, fight for Scotland’s independence, and carve out some happiness for himself. And how she could be a part of that.

There was more to him than the brutal war machine bent on vengeance, striking without thought. The reprieve he’d given her had proved the man she remembered still existed. But she was painfully aware that reprieve was only temporary. The men could return at any time.

Would he send her back or did he love her enough to fight to keep her, even if she was English and Robert Clifford’s sister? Her deepest fear was that he would never be able to reconcile the two. And worse, that maybe he wasn’t keeping her in this tower just to protect her but also because he was ashamed of her. That a relationship with an Englishwoman somehow diminished his reputation as the freedom fighter who despised all things English.

She tried to ignore the stab of disappointment when he didn’t respond to her vow not to marry Sir Henry. Instead, he started to roll off the bed. “I need to return to my chamber.” After the first night, he’d come to her.

“Already?” she asked, trying to hide her disappointment with a smile.

He saw through it anyway. “I’m riding out at dawn. Besides, I do not want to give Lady Joanna any reason to suspect that I am not enjoying the fine bed in her mother-in-law’s chamber.”

Rosalin suspected it was too late for that. She suspected Lady Joanna knew exactly whose bed he was enjoying.

She watched him dress in silence, wishing that their worlds did not feel so apart. The one he shared in here with her and the one he shared out there with everyone else that required strapping on armor and swords. Her eyes moved from the bruises on his ribs to the one on his face. “I hope you will not be returning with any more ‘scratches’?”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “Not today, unless they are wielded by farm implements.”

She gazed at him questioningly.

He grimaced. “One of my duties for the king is to listen to the disputes of the people when he cannot, which means a long morning listening to a bunch of squabbling between neighboring farmers.”

“The Devil’s Enforcer meting out justice?”

Her incredulity seemed to amuse rather than offend him. “Aye, well, it’s only one of my duties—a very small part. My reputation is not in any danger.”

She’d sat up in bed to watch him, and she realized his gaze had fallen to her very thin chemise. Although he did not seem to possess a modest bone in his body (admittedly with good reason) and came to her bed completely naked (not that she was complaining), sensing her modesty, he had not pressed her to remove her chemise. But if his heated gaze on her barely covered breasts was any indication, she suspected that patience was almost at an end.

“Have you heard of the legal term
quid pro quo
?”

She translated the Latin in her head: this for that. She wrinkled her nose. “Nay.”

He grinned. Perhaps if she hadn’t been so excited by his next words, she would have noticed how slyly. “How would you like to go on a short hike later?”

She practically jumped out of the bed. “Really?”

That smile deepened. “Be ready at about three.”

She nodded excitedly. “I will be.”

He started out the door, but at the last minute he turned. “And Rosalin.” Her eyes met his. “Make sure not to wear anything with too many ties.”

She was left to ponder that for the remainder of the day.

Rosalin spun on him angrily, eyes flashing and hands on her hips. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Robert Boyd. You tricked me and brought me up here under false pretenses.”

Robbie tried not to laugh, but she looked so adorable and outraged it wasn’t easy. He gestured to the valley below them. “I promised you a short hike and a beautiful view. Did I not deliver both?”

If looks could kill, he’d be dead right now. “It’s breathtaking. But you know very well it’s not the view. It’s the payment you’ve demanded in return that’s the problem.”

He shook his head,
tsk
ing. “I wouldn’t use the term ‘payment’; it sounds too…”

“Underhanded? Strong-arming? Unscrupulous?”

He grinned. “I was going to say formal. I prefer
quid pro quo
. I give you a little something of this, you give me a little something of that. Everyone’s happy.”

“I’d hardly say stripping down naked in the middle of the day outside where anyone can happen upon us is ‘a little something.’”

“We are up on a hilltop, surrounded by trees, with no one around for miles.” A slight exaggeration, but he would hear anyone who tried to sneak up on them. “I thought it would be fun.”

“Fun?” she exclaimed, practically sputtering. “Fun for
you
, you mean.”

He had to grin at that. Damned right it would be fun for him. Even the thought of all that naked skin bared to his eyes in the sunlight made him hard. He shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “That’s all right. I thought you were more adventurous, but if you are too embarrassed by whatever it is you are intent on keeping hidden under that shift, we can return to the castle.”

Aye, and he’d be lying dead with two very green daggers in his chest. “You are a horrible man who deserves every bit of your ruthless reputation.”

He grinned harder. When it came to having her naked, she was probably right. He waited with surprising patience, when all he wanted to do was rip those clothes right off her and taste every inch of that naked skin. He was rewarded. A moment later she started furiously working the ties of her gown. She was calling him all kinds of names under her breath, but he didn’t care. His pulse had stopped and his breath seemed lodged in his lungs as piece after piece of clothing fell at her feet.

He was in awe.

He was in rapture.

He was in…

Oh hell, he was in trouble. The past few days had been like a dream. He felt himself caught up in the magical web she’d spun around him and didn’t know how he was going to get out. Didn’t know whether he
wanted
to get out. Though he knew he shouldn’t be encouraging her fantasy of a future between them, like Icarus to the sun, he was powerless to stay away from the warmth in her eyes. And the heat. That, he sure as hell couldn’t stay away from.