“Ye are her protector.” Though spoken quietly, the accusation and the words and the possible truth within them made him want to howl out in anger and frustration. And jealousy. Did he still fuck her? Had Iain misread the relationship between them? Rob spun around and faced him, his answer there for Iain to read on his face.
“I am faithful to my wife, Iain. I have ever been, and will always be,” Rob ground out the words. “Ye dinna understand.”
In one single moment, all the incongruities formed a pattern in his mind. The way things were here. The way Robena was treated—by the villagers, by the men, by even the laird. Not like any village harlot Iain had ever known. Too many choices. Too much control. No whore had that much, unless there was a strong and powerful man who gave it to her.
“Ye are her protector,” he repeated, waiting for Rob to deny his part in this, all the while knowing he could not.
“Aye. Protector, but not lover.” Rob let out a breath at the admission. It still did not explain everything, but . . .
“Anice and I are both her protectors.”
Iain knew there had been some great service provided by Robena to the Lady Anice when Rob had returned here from Dunbarton, which would explain her part in this. He stared at Rob, waiting for the rest to follow.
“Anice does it out of gratitude,” he said. “Robena offered her advice and good counsel when Anice first married me. ’Twas a time when she needed help that none but Robena could give.”
Iain had heard the rumors, or stories, even over in his village at the time when Anice had married Rob’s half-brother and ended up beaten and nearly dead on her wedding night. A wedding night such as that would have put any woman off the marriage bed, and yet Iain knew Anice and Rob were happy and content in their marriage now. Iain could imagine what kind of advice the lady had needed from the harlot, Rob’s former lover.
“And ye?” Iain asked. “Do ye stand in friendship to her?”
Iain could not ignore that the two had been friends for a long time. Rare for a man and woman. And though he’d like to overlook it, the fact was, Rob had shared her bed before he’d married Anice. Whatever words he’d been expecting, he did not expect the next ones.
“I protect her because ’tis my fault that she nearly died and that she willna ever bear children.” Rob’s face paled and his eyes grew bleak and empty. Or so Iain thought until he got a better look. Nay, they were filled with loathing and sorrow.
“Yer fault? How, Rob?” Surely his friend would never harm Robena, so what could have happened?
“On his—their—wedding night, Sandy sent his men to Robena, after allowing them to watch as he beat and . . . had . . .Anice. He suspected that Anice had betrayed him with another, and he punished her, nearly killing her that night.” Iain’s gut roiled at the story he was hearing now. “Then, Sandy turned them loose like a pack of wolves and sent them to slake their lust and needs on the whore he kenned was my friend.” Rob grimaced as he spoke and clenched his fists.
“He paid them, paid his men, tosee to her.” Rob spit in the dirt then, and Iain’s stomach heaved at the thought of what those men had done. “Because she was my friend, Iain.”
Iain had been in battle and had seen the aftermath of brutality that could follow the euphoria or disappointment. But men full of drink, paid to do such a thing, defied everything he knew. And all because Rob’s half-brother was jealous of anything Rob had or did. Iain had seen it before Rob had been sent to Dunbarton to live and train with Iain’s brother Duncan. But now, he had to face the knowledge that two women —one whom he respected and one whom he loved—suffered because of the uncontrolled madness and jealousy of one man, and it sickened him.
Rob turned, leaned his back against the fence, and crossed his arms over his chest. As Iain stared off at the keep for a few moments before saying anything more, he struggled to resist the urge to retch.
“So, I have made certain that she chooses what will happen in her life. She doesna have to whore, but she has the freedom now to choose whom she fucks and who she doesna. The men here, the people, ken that I will see to any trouble that comes her way.”
Iain was proud of the young man who stood here now and knew his brother would have been as well if Duncan had lived to see this.
“And if she wanted to leave here?” Iain asked.
“She can.” Rob turned to face him. “Do ye think to take her back with ye to Dunbarton?”
“Aye.”
One quiet word and his life had changed the moment he spoke it aloud to another. Now, ’twas not conjecture or private. Now, ’twas a possibility.
“And what has Robena said about it? Does she wish to leave?” It was Iain’s turn to remain silent. “Ye have not asked her, have ye?”
“Nay.”
“Ye have been here for days, Iain. When do ye think to tell her that ye want her to go back to Dunbarton?”
He’d had a plan in mind when he arrived—he would allow them to settle into the comfortable pattern they liked from previous visits first, and then he would ask her.
But his time here was closer to its beginning than its end, so he thought there was plenty of time.
“I was going to ask her soon. Do ye think she will?” he asked. If anyone knew Robena, it was Rob.
“Anice might ken Robena’s mind on this, or mayhap Moira would. How will Jamie react to ye bringing a leman back with ye? Will that not put a pause in his plans to marry ye off? I would think that most prospective brides are put off by the presence of a man’s mistress.”
