Page 300 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“She said the words?”

Rhoslyn’s heart wrenched at the hoarse plea she heard in his voice. “Aye, she said the words.”

His gaze shadowed, as if far away. “She never said the words.”

“Her last thought was of you.”

His eyes focused on her. He nodded. “Just as her last words to me were of you and the babe.” He took three steps to the bed, then came down on one knee. “She commanded me to take this from her killer and give this to her great grandchild.” He held out the gold and ruby bracelet Lady Taresa had been wearing.

Rhoslyn gave a small gasp.

He laid the bracelet on the blanket beside the baby. “Her last command was that I should ensure the safety of her great-great grandchild. If you will accept a humble knight’s service, I will protect the new Lady Taresa with my life.”

“Just as your Lady Taresa commanded,” Rhoslyn murmured. She looked at St. Claire.

“This was what she whispered to you in those last moments?” he asked.

“Aye,” Sir Derek replied.

St. Claire gave her a small nod, and she said to Sir Derek, “I appoint you our daughter’s protector. She will be your Lady Taresa.”

Startlement shone in his eyes. Then gratitude. He bowed his head once more. “So long as I breathe, you need never worry for her safety.”

To Rhoslyn’s surprise, St. Claire picked up the baby and rose. She voiced a small cry, then quieted in her father’s arms.

“Rise, Sir Derek, and meet Lady Taresa Peigi St. Claire,” he said.

The knight rose and gave a stiff bow to the baby. Both men stared down at her, and Rhoslyn was reminded of St. Claire’s words when he’d first brought her to Castle Glenbarr. “What man knows peace when he takes a wife?” Yet he looked perfectly at peace now. Was this what he had sought?

He looked up from the baby and met her gaze. Then he smiled a dazzling smile that said all was right with the world. He looked back down at their daughter and Rhoslyn realized her daughter needed a brother to complete the trio.

* * *

When the door opened behind her, Rhoslyn looked up from the rolls she was reading. St. Claire entered. He crossed to the table where she worked and stopped beside the cradle that sat beside Rhoslyn’s bench. At six months old, Lady Taresa Peigi St. Claire had finally begun sleeping through the night.

“It has begun to rain,” he at last said.

“Does that mean John Comyn will be staying?” she asked.

“Aye. We were the last he was to visit.”

Rhoslyn lifted the quill from the parchment. “Are you going to tell me what he said?”

“Edward appointed John Balliol as king.”

She closed her eyes. God help them.

“I am commanded to appear before him.”

Rhoslyn looked sharply at him. “Before John or Edward?”

He stared down at her and her heart began to pound wildly. What would Edward do to St. Claire if he was forced to return to England?

“You say there is no difference between the two men,” he said.

“You cannot return to England,” she said.

“You told me I must obey my Scottish king.”

Sweet God. And he would obey.

Would their new king—or his liege lord—force St. Claire from their home? Rhoslyn placed a palm over her belly. Would he be present for the birth of their son?