Page 182 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“I have been fighting Scots all night,” Talbot said. “I will fight more, if necessary, and will not be sent back to England.”

“Ye can thank your mother’s Scottish blood for that,” Ingram replied without rancor, and Talbot laughed again. So his Scottish heritage might work to his advantage after all.

“Do we have a bargain?” he asked.

“I have nothing better to do.” Ralf lifted his mug in a toast, and Talbot clinked his mug against Ralf’s. Ingram joined in. They finished their ale and called for another.

* * *

Rhoslyn was immensely relieved when she woke to find St. Claire gone from their room. A sky blue linen dress lay draped across the foot of the bed. She washed her face and donned the dress, then worked through the tangles in her long hair. At last, she went to the door and opened it. As expected, Ross stood guard.

“Ye look well, Lady Rhoslyn,” he said.

She nodded. “Where is St. Claire?”

“He received word that his brother was seen at the port and has gone to find him. Are ye hungry, my lady?”

Rhoslyn started to say no, then realized she was quite hungry. “Aye, perhaps a little bread and cheese.”

“We can eat downstairs, if ye like.”

She agreed, and they went downstairs where they were given a quiet table. The food arrived and she had taken two bites when St. Claire entered. He scanned the room. Her heart picked up speed when his gaze stopped on them. He stood for an instant, staring, then strode across the room. Rhoslyn was struck with how even his walk bespoke a man of action. She recalled his gentle touch, despite his barely suppressed rage, when he’d cut her bonds. She reached for her wine and realized her hands were shaking. St. Claire reached the table, and she carefully lifted the mug to her lips and sipped.

He sat in the seat nearest her. “You look well, my lady.”

Rhoslyn set her mug on the table. “I am much refreshed.”

He nodded but she noted the uncertainty in his eyes.

“You do no’ look like a man whose quest was fruitful,” Ross said.

“I did not find him.”

Rhoslyn found herself unable to speak. What was wrong with her? Dayton St. Claire was nowhere near her. But the knowledge didn’t stop the tremble in her limbs. A hand unexpectedly covered and squeezed hers. She yanked her hand back before realizing it was St. Claire’s hand.

“Forgive me,” he said. “I did not mean to startle you. I only wanted to assure you that Dayton will never again come near you.”

She nodded. “Thank ye. I know.”

“I am surprised he is still in Scotland,” Ross said.

“As am I.”

“Will ye remain to search for him while we return to Castle Glenbarr?” Rhoslyn asked.

She couldn’t decide whether she wanted him to stay or return. If he stayed, that gave her time to reconcile herself to the...kidnapping and her marriage. But she couldn’t deny the fear that edged through her at the thought of him not being present for the return trip. Stupid, he had a company of two dozen men, and her grandfather had brought men, as well. Nothing could possibly happen.

“I will return with you,” St. Claire said. “I have spoken with the sheriff. If they apprehend Dayton, he will notify me.”

From the corner of her eye, Rhoslyn saw her grandfather enter the tavern. He strode to their table. When he reached them, he pulled her up and studied her. His gaze lingered on the bruise that darkened her cheek before sending a penetrating glance St. Claire’s way. Then he pulled her into his arms and she relaxed into the warmth of his familiar embrace. It took all her will not to break down into blubbering sobs. She was thankful when he declined the morning meal and said he would rather start for home as soon as she was ready to leave.

A damp mist hung in the air all day, which fit Rhoslyn’s mood. They stopped twice at taverns for drink and food. She feigned fatigue, but feared her grandfather would guess the truth. As the day wore on, her fatigue became real.

“We should stop for the night,” her grandfather said when the sun dipped in the horizon. “There is a village up ahead. We can take shelter in a barn, if need be.”

Rhoslyn shook her head. “Nay. I want to reach Castle Glenbarr tonight.”

“Lady Rhoslyn,” St. Claire began.