A man could learn to crave that look.
A man could do something stupid for that look.
But damn it, Bruce needed Clifford’s agreement, and Robbie couldn’t do anything to jeopardize it. And what he wanted from Rosalin Clifford would sure as hell jeopardize it.
Right now they had momentum, and Clifford’s resistance could easily change that. Not only might it encourage others to follow, but it would stop the progress Bruce was making in retaking his castles.
Robbie forced his gaze away. God’s blood, where was that messenger? He should have been here by now.
Gulping down the remaining ale in his cup, he got to his feet. He had to get out of here.
Before he could start down the aisle to the door, it was thrown back and the very man he’d wanted to see came striding toward him. The man hethoughthe’d wanted to see. But the stone of dread that sank in his chest when he recognized the envoy told him otherwise.
Clifford’s agreement to the truce had arrived. Robbie’s gaze slid to Rosalin, and the weight in his chest started to burn. He was going to have to give her back.
The Hall had been cleared while Robbie, Sir Alex, the Black Douglas, and a handful of other men talked to the envoy. Rosalin paced nervously outside the door to learn her fate.
She had no doubt her brother would do whatever it took to free her, but how soon would she be forced to leave?
She stopped in her tracks. Blood drained from her face.Forced?Was that what it had become? Did she actually want tostaywith the rebels, living in a tent in the godforsaken wilds of the most inhospitable countryside she’d ever seen, with one of the most hated men in England? A man whose very name conjured up whispers of demons? The man whose head her brother longed to see on a pike over the gates of his castle?
It was so inconceivable, so impossible, it couldn’t be true. Of course she wanted to go back to England. To her pretty, clean dresses, her luxurious castles, her comfortable life with the family who loved her.
Her brother’s family. Not hers. Though she loved them with all her heart, they would never be hers. She would have a life with…
The realization hit her with such force it nearly knocked her down. Sir Henry. God in heaven, how could she have forgotten about the man she was supposed to marry?
But forgotten him she had. Utterly and completely. Her stomach started to toss so violently, she had to sit down on one of the stairs. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she tried to calm the sudden maelstrom raging inside her. What was she going to do?
The door behind her slammed open and the men started to pour out. She glanced up and saw Robbie in the doorway. From his clenched jaw, tight mouth, and dark gaze, she knew something was wrong.
She came to her feet anxiously. “What is it?”
“Your brother is a bloody bastard!”
Her heart started to pound, and her teeth caught her lower lip nervously. “What did the message say?”
Ice-cold blue eyes bit into hers, as if it were somehow her fault. “He’s playing games. Games I’ve been on the other side of before. I just never thought he’d play them with his precious sister.” His eyes narrowed. “Or is there something you aren’t telling me? Perhaps you are not as close as I have been led to believe?”
Her brow furrowed. “We are very close. What do you mean by games? And what has he done before?”
His jaw clamped even tighter. It was clear he wanted to tell her, but something was holding him back.
The urge to tell her apparently won out. “When we were taken at Kildrummy it was under a truce. Your brother had given his word that we would be negotiating a surrender. I didn’t want to agree, but Nigel Bruce and Seton insisted your brother could be trusted. As soon as we lifted the gate and walked outside to meet them, the English attacked. We were arrested, Nigel Bruce was taken to Berwick and executed, and the rest of us were cast in irons. You know the rest.”
“You must be mistaken. My brother would never do something so dishonorable.”
“Are you really so sure of that? It is war, and I’m sure he justified his perfidy with that. Our mistake was in trusting the word of an Englishman—any Englishman.”
The look in his eyes sent a chill down her spine. It was a warning. Whatever Cliff’s reply, it had reminded him of who she was and all that lay between them.
She straightened her spine and lifted her chin to him. “If what you say is true, my brother didn’t know anything about it.”
“He said the same—swore to it up and down. So much so that I refrained from killing his men when I had the chance, believing him when he said we would be treated fairly. You saw the results of that. Your brother does not deserve your stalwart defense.”
“You don’t know him the way I do.”
His gaze held hers steadily. “I could say the same to you.”
