For once she welcomed the hair-raising speed, stomach-knotting terrain, and bone-deep exhaustion of the journey, as they kept her mind from dwelling all night on the grim countenance she’d left behind.
The way he’d looked at her, the change in his expression, the change inhimhad been dramatic. Cold, merciless, impenetrable. It was a glimpse of the ruthless enforcer, the heartless raider, the man who’d laid scourge across the Borders. The man she’d convinced herself no longer existed.
Her pleas, her attempts to reach him, had slid off him like water on steel. The connection and deepening emotions she’d put so much store in had been unable to penetrate the shield that had gone up around him.
He’d been furious. He’d refused to believe that she hadn’t left voluntarily. Given how it had looked, perhaps she could understand. She’d tried to explain, but clearly he wasn’t in any mood to listen to her.
What bothered her was how quickly he’d assumed her guilt and how incapable he thought her of honor. Shouldn’t he have trusted her a little? At least enough not to immediately discount her explanation?
Sir Alex’s warning that he would never trust an Englishman—or woman—came back to her. She’d hoped Robbie thought her different. She’d just told him she loved him—how could he think she would leave him so easily? Obviously he hadn’t believed that either. What more proof could she give him?
The tangle of hurt and disappointment was exacerbated by fear. She was terrified of what was happening, of the battle being waged by the men they’d left behind in Ettrick Forest.
No matter how he appeared, Robbie was not invincible. As hurt as she was by his coldness before she left, the thought of him being hurt or—God forbid—killed made it feel as if she were riding with an icy claw wrapped around her chest that every once in a while squeezed.
But as much as she feared for him, most of her fear was for the men who must fight against him. Though she intended to break the betrothal with Sir Henry when she returned, she did not want to see him or any of his men killed. And Robbie’s face as she’d ridden off had left no doubt of his intentions.
Her stomach twisted with fear and anxiety through the long night. It must have revealed itself on her face, for not long after dawn broke Sir Alex rode up next to her. “Try not to think about it, my lady. We will find out what happened soon enough.”
She nodded, a lump growing in her throat as the emotions she’d kept bottled inside all night threatened to erupt at his show of compassion. “I’m not sure I want to know. Whatever happens, I fear the result.”
His gaze held hers with understanding. “’Tis often how I feel. It is not easy having friends on both sides and constantly being caught between the two. With my lands so close to the border, it’s a position I’ve faced many times myself.”
“How do you deal with it?”
“I don’t. Not very well at least.”
“I can’t bear the thought of anyone being hurt. What do you think has happened?”
He gave her a sad look, as if he knew what she wanted to hear but wouldn’t lie to her. “If Boyd catches up to them, your brother’s men are dead.”
She paled, feeling ill, knowing he was right. And if Robbie did kill them, it would make it that much harder for her to convince Cliff to agree to a match between them.
But Sir Alex was wrong about one thing. “Those were not my brother’s men—they were Sir Henry’s.”
“I thought you only saw one. How can you be so sure Clifford did not have a part in it?”
She didn’t know, but she was. “Cliff wouldn’t do something so risky.” Sorash. “Something that would put me in danger like that.”
Sir Alex studied her for a long pause. “I hope you are right, my lady. If Boyd believes your brother has broken the truce…” He let his voice fall off.
An ominous chill swept over her, making her skin prickle. She didn’t want to ask. “What?”
Sir Alex’s mouth fell in a hard line. For a moment, he looked just as grim and forbidding as Robbie had before she left. In that instant she saw not the Golden Knight, but the hard edge that had made Sir Alex part of the band of rebels.
“I don’t know. But he will use whatever weapon he has at his disposal to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Me.He means me.
Rosalin shook her head. “He won’t hurt me.”
“Nay, not physically, but I fear—” He stopped. “Have care, my lady. That is all I’m saying. If you put yourself in the middle of this battle, you cannot win.”
He spoke like a man who knew what he was talking about.
Rosalin was surprised that he’d guessed the direction of her thoughts so easily—were her hopes for the future so transparent? If the sympathetic look Sir Alex was giving her was any indication, they must be.
Embarrassed, and not a little discouraged, she was glad when one of the men riding ahead turned and said something to Sir Alex in Gaelic, pointing in the direction of a small village that had just appeared in the distance.
