He saw the flash of pain on her face and knew she’d learned of the fate that had befallen the men at Kildrummy. After the castle surrendered, most of the garrison had been put to the sword. Nigel Bruce had been brought to this very castle at Berwick, where he’d been hanged and beheaded. He hoped to hell she hadn’t been forced to witness it.
But the treacherous blacksmith Osborn had received his just reward. The gold he’d been promised had been melted down and poured down his throat by the very English soldiers he’d betrayed his countrymen to help.
“That’s a nice story, but Isawyou with Ross. He told me that you owed him a debt and that we were payment.” Her voice shook. “How could you, Lachlan? I know you cared nothing for me, but what about the others? What about the children?” Her voice broke, and the sound tore at something deep and impenetrable inside him. “Do you know what they did to Mary?”
Her words flayed; he felt as if layer upon layer of skin were being stripped away. Every day for two years he’d thought of nothing else. She couldn’t blame him any more than he blamed himself. But although he accepted his responsibility for what had happened, he hadn’t betrayed her. “I was the payment of debt, Bella, not you. Ross meant to kill me, and would have done so had I not escaped. Gordon told me what Ross said, and what you thought, but I was in chains. He tried to tell you as you were being taken away.”
A soft cry escaped from her lips. “William is alive?”
“Aye, as is MacKay. They were imprisoned, but we were able to free them before they were killed.”
“We?”
He shrugged carelessly to cover the slip. “A few of Bruce’s guardsmen.” He left it at that. She knew nothing of the Highland Guard, and he intended to keep it that way. Even were he inclined to break his vow of secrecy—which he wasn’t—her life was in enough danger as it was. Knowledge like that could get her tortured. A fact of which he was well aware.
For a moment, the hint of a smile softened her expression. “I’m glad,” she said. “Margaret was unable to find out anything, and I thought…” Her voice dropped off as she turned to stare back out the window into the sunset.
She thought Gordon and MacKay had suffered a similar fate to those of the Earl of Atholl and Nigel Bruce.
She drew a deep breath, as if trying to get herself under control. When she turned back to him, her face was expressionless. “Very well, you’ve said your peace, now leave.”
A sound at the door drew his attention. Probably the guard wondering what was taking so long. “Damn it, Bella, we don’t have much time. I swear I’ll explain everything to you when I get you out of here.”
She drew back as if scalded. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Thinking that she still didn’t believe him, he pulled the ring off his finger and handed it to her. He’d hoped to be able to convince her on his own but hadn’t wanted to take any chances. “Here,” he said. “Proof that the king has sent me. He said you would recognize it.”
She handed it back to him with barely a glance. “I care not how much Robert is paying you to rescue me, or whether you are speaking the truth. I have no wish to be rescued by you or anyone else.”
Lachlan couldn’t believe it. Two hellish years fighting to get here, and she didn’t want to leave? Was this some kind of bad joke?
He took an intimidating step closer.
She stood her ground, staring up at him with those big blue eyes flashing their challenge. Blood pounded in his ears. The temper he’d been struggling to hold flared. His hands itched to circle her arms and shake some bloody sense into her.
If he thought he could do so without kissing her, he might do just that. But he didn’t trust himself to touch her. Not the way he was feeling right now. He was too raw, too frustrated, and too damned aware of her. He was trying to be patient and gentle, but while he might be dressed like a priest, he sure as hell wasn’t a saint.
Pushed to the end of his rope, he leaned even closer. He admitted he took too much pleasure in the little hitch of breath and widening of her eyes. She might hate him, but she still was aware of him. He reached out his hand, when suddenly the door behind them opened.
Bella was grateful for the interruption when it came. Being alone with Lachlan MacRuairi had never been easy, and what he’d just told her had left her feeling as if she’d just taken her first steps on land after being at sea for years.
She’d never thought to see him again. She’d put him behind her. Hardly thought of him at all. She bit her lip. At least not as much as she used to. The sharp twinge in her chest had dulled to a pang. He’d become one more regret of an unpleasant past she had no wish to remember.
But part of her had always wondered what she would do if she ever saw him again. Would she stick a dagger in his back as he’d done to her? Curse him to the devil who spawned him? Hit him? Cry? Fall to her knees and beg him to tell her why?
She hadn’t expected the hurt, the knife of pain that stabbed through her chest at the first sight of him, or the rush of churning emotions that swirled inside her, making her feel as if she were going to be ill.
Then, for one treacherous heartbeat, she’d felt something else. She’d looked into the face that had only grown harder, meaner, and even more sinfully handsome over the years, and felt a tug of longing so strong it stole her breath.
He’d cut his hair, she realized, but everything else was painfully familiar. She’d gazed upon that strong jaw, those eerily bright green eyes, the dangerously sensual mouth, and remembered exactly how it had felt on hers. How he could make her weak with pleasure and desperate for more.
She hated him for reminding her. For confusing her. For making her want to believe him. In her weaker moments, part of her had wondered if she’d been wrong. Maybe he hadn’t betrayed her. Robert’s ring seemed some proof that he might be telling the truth.
Why did he have to come now? For two years she’d prayed for someone to release her from her cruel prison. But even if she believed his story, even if she would dare to risk putting her life in his hands once more, she couldn’t go. Not while there was a threat to her daughter.
Shame coursed through her as tears welled in her eyes. She’d be damned if she’d let him see her cry. Damned if she’d let him see her torment and know how desperately she longed for escape. She wouldn’t let him see how close she was to falling apart.
Struggling for composure, Bella was relieved when the door opened and Margaret entered the room. It gave her the moment she needed to collect herself.
