Straddling both sides of a wide, winding river, the stone and thatched cottages appeared so quiet and peaceful. The slate roof of a sizable church with a turreted tower in the center of town rose high above everything else. She scanned the buildings again. For a village of this size, there should be a castle. She felt her first whisper of premonition when her gaze snagged on a large empty area not far from the church on the banks of the river. Except it wasn’t empty, she realized. From the distance, she could just make out large piles of stone scattered haphazardly about.
“What is it?” she asked.
Sir Alex turned to her, his expression strangely blank. “We’re almost there.”
“Where?”
He paused. “Douglas.”
Her eyes widened in horror, as her stomach took a sharp dive. He might as well have said hell. For a Clifford, the village of Douglas was tantamount to the same thing. Her brother had tried for years to hold this land—and its castle—making plenty of enemies along the way.
“Castle Dangerous” it had been called by the garrisons sent by Cliff to hold the Douglas stronghold, and for good reason. Three times the Black Douglas had attacked and burned his own castle, including the infamous episode of the “Douglas Larder” that she knew Robbie had been involved in. The last had occurred about a year ago, and the castle had been destroyed—by Douglas himself. How could Robbie send her here, into the very heart and dominion of her family’s greatest enemy?
“You have nothing to fear, my lady,” Sir Alex said, trying to ease her rising panic. “You will be safe here.”
“Safe? Surrounded by people who would probably like nothing more than to sink a dagger into my back?” She gave a harsh, bordering on hysterical, laugh. “I did not try to escape, but it seems Robbie is making sure of it. Am I to be thrown into a pit prison after all?”
“You will be treated with every consideration. I know it seems hard to believe, but trust me, you have nothing to fear. Joanna Douglas is not like her husband.”
A short while later, when Rosalin was welcomed to Park Castle like a long-lost relative (replete with gasps of horror at what she’d been through and concerned pats of her hands) by a woman who was as beautiful and sweet-looking as her husband was dark and frightening, Rosalin was forced to concede Sir Alex was right: Joanna Douglas was nothing like her husband. In truth, she seemed more like the cherub she resembled than the devil’s consort. Perhaps he’d abducted her?
When she accidentally blurted out her suspicions, however, Joanna had laughed and patted the round swell of her pregnant stomach, assuring her that although their courtship had been a difficult one, it hadn’t come to that. James wasn’t really so terrifying, she’d insisted. When Rosalin grew to know him better, she’d see that.
Rosalin couldn’t think of what to say that wasn’t rude, so she did not respond.
Like a baby chick, Rosalin was scooted under the caring wing of her hostess, given a bath, fresh clothes, a hot meal, and a warm bedchamber in which to rest. Indeed, were it not for the placement of that room in the highest part of the tower and the guard stationed at the bottom of the stairwell, Rosalin might have been a treasured guest.
Despite her exhaustion, however, she found she could not rest. She had to see Robbie. Leaving a message with Lady Joanna that it was important that she see him as soon as possible, Rosalin watched for his arrival from the window of her tower chamber.
Twenty
It was after midday when Robbie and his men rode into the bailey of Park Castle. After hours of riding with only an empty stomach and sore backside to show for it, he was in a foul mood. The heat of battle was pent up inside him, eager for an outlet.
The English bastards had turned tail and run. With the element of surprise gone, they’d apparently decided not to chance an attack. Like frightened hares, they’d raced back to the garrison at Peebles, with Robbie and his men hard on their heels.
Any thought that Clifford might not have been a part of it was eradicated when the gate opened. Even from a distance, he’d recognized the red stripe and blue-and-yellow checks of one of the soldiers in the bailey.
Furious at being denied the battle promised him, Robbie had debated lying in wait for the English to emerge. But he didn’t have the men or supplies. Once he gathered both, he would exact his retribution on Clifford for breaking the truce he’d only just agreed upon.
Robbie had anticipated a trick, and he’d gotten one. Clifford had brought him to Melrose and tampered with their horses’ feed to follow him back to camp and attempt a rescue of Rosalin. Robbie had to admit it had been a cunning plan, but it was also reckless. If it failed—as it had—Clifford was putting his sister at risk. Unless…
Robbie’s jaw clenched. Unless Clifford thought therewasno risk. Unless he was certain Robbie wouldn’t harm her.
Some of his anger turned inward. Was that it? Had Clifford seen too much? Or had the lad, and reported it to his father? Either way, Robbie knew knowledge of his feelings for Rosalin weakened his position.
If being denied his quarry and having possibly given Clifford an advantage weren’t bad enough, Robbie had had to listen to Douglas’s thoughts on the matter for much of the journey.
“Clifford isn’t going to get away with this. I knew nothing good would come of having that lass at camp. You should have let me send her to Douglas right away as I wanted to.”
Robbie tried to rein in his temper. Douglas could be as bad as Seton, though they argued from opposite sides. “And how would that have changed anything? They still would have found our camp when we returned from Melrose.”
His friend gave him a hard look. “Aye, but they wouldn’t have found the lass. God’s blood, Boyd, they almost had her, and we would have let the means of bending Clifford over our knee slip away. Losing the lad was bad enough, but giving the chit freedom to move about the camp unguarded? What the hell did she do to get you to agree to that? Suck your—”
Robbie reached over and grabbed him by the throat, nearly lifting the powerfully built knight off his horse with one hand. The red haze of pure rage swirled before his eyes. “Say it and I’ll break your damned teeth.” The horses had come to a stop. Douglas could have tried to break free, but he seemed too intent on watching Robbie. “You can criticize me all you like—some of which is deserved—but do not disparage the lass. Despite her unfortunate relatives, she is an innocent in all of this—and a lady.”
Realizing the other men had stopped to gape at them, Robbie let his friend go.
“So that’s how it is,” Douglas said, his voice stunned. “Bloody hell, I almost feel sorry for you.”
