Ravished by a Highlander (28 page)

James turned to the young Highlander, unable to keep the question or the familiar sorrow from his eyes. Had he seen her? Had
he seen his child die? “Tell me everything, MacGregor. Leave nothing out.”

He listened while Colin told him why he and his brother had gone to St. Christopher’s and what they saw when they arrived:
The Abbey engulfed in flames, a scant number of his English soldiers engaged in battle with the Dutch. Colin’s eldest brother
and two of his companions had charged forward on the side of the English but were fortunate to escape with their lives. His
brother was wounded by an arrow and decided to return home rather than proceed on to England. “We met up with Captain Grant
in Inverary and told him what had happened at the Abbey.”

“And Gilles? Was he killed?”

“He was no’ there,” MacGregor told him, his gaze sharp, his voice steady. “Before he died, one of yer men told my brother
who commanded the slaughter.”

“Sire”—Captain Grant dragged the king’s attention away from the messenger’s—“the Duke of Monmouth is guilty of killing yer
men, my brothers at arms. I don’t know if the Earl of Argyll is also involved, but I would remind ye that my uncle has misgivings
about William of Orange, and did share them with the late King Charles.”

“Yes, I know. Connor Stuart was my brother’s closest ally, and has since become mine. He is loyal to his family to a fault.
He will be pleased when I tell him of your great service to the throne. As for William, I am well aware of his position in
regard to a Catholic monarchy, but I cannot move against him until I have proof of his treason.”

The captain nodded and James moved toward the door. “Now, if there is nothing else, I would like a few moments alone to think
on what you have told me before I return to my guests.” He waited while Grant bowed to him again and left the solar with his
young companion following behind.

“MacGregor.” The king stopped him at the entrance. “A word before you go.” He ushered the young man back inside and closed
the door behind him. “Tell me, did you see… a woman… a novice…” Ah God, he hadn’t spoken of her to anyone since Anne died.
But what did it matter now who knew? If Colin MacGregor had seen Davina before she died, James had to know. He had to know
for certain that his daughter was truly dead. “She would have had…” He paused again, fighting to keep his emotions in check.
“… hair like the sun and eyes like the sky.”

Something… something registered in the boy’s eyes, pity, perhaps, or melancholic curiosity. Whatever it was disappeared an
instant later. “There were nae survivors.”

“A body then?” the king pressed, blocking the door when his guest reached for it. “One matching her description perhaps? I
must know.”

“Why?

James stepped back, unaccustomed to such boldness… and to being studied so intently. The boy had a stoic face and nerves of
steel, but the flare of fire in his eyes belied his calm outward appearance.

“’Tis no’ with disrespect that I speak,” the young Highlander said. “Fer I dinna’ know ye yet, but why do ye care so much
aboot a novice ye never knew?”

James squared his shoulders, ready to remind this whelp who he was speaking to and what could befall him if the king so ordered
it. But he found that when he opened his mouth he had no stomach for self-aggrandizement.

“Because she was my daughter,” he finally admitted, though it didn’t make him feel any better, “and I sacrificed her for my
faith.” He laughed at himself but there was no mirth in the sound. “I don’t know why I’m telling you.” He shrugged his heavy
shoulders and stepped away from the door. “It does not matter anymore.” He went back to his chair and dropped into it.

“Is she the reason ye are in here alone, so drunk that ye canna’ hold yer own cup?”

James looked up from beneath his hand. He could not help but like this boy’s candor when so many around him offered him false
reverence. “You are either very courageous, or extremely foolish.”

“Both, sire,” Colin said and flashed him a confident grin. “I am extremely courageous.” Without invitation, he took the chair
Connor had been sitting in a few moments ago. “I have been told that ye possess the same quality.”

“And who has told you this? Your father?”

“Nae, someone who has come to mean a great deal to me. This person told me that ye’ve sacrificed much fer yer Catholic faith,
even denouncing yer position as Lord High Admiral. D’ye regret it all then because ye lost yer daughter fer it? Would ye give
up yer faith now, or ask others to do so?”

“No, never. My faith is all I have left.”

The boy smiled, looking more like his father than James first realized. He rose from his seat and crossed the room to the
door. When he reached it, he paused and turned to look at James one more time.

“Abraham sacrificed his child fer his faith.”

James nodded and turned his somber gaze to the hearth fire. “But God let Isaac live.”

“Aye, He did,” the boy said and left the solar.

D
avina stared at the ceiling, watching the waning light of the candle flames flicker within the shadows. She and Rob hadn’t
left their chambers since the priest had married them three days ago, save to visit the garderobe. Their baths were prepared
in-room by male servants and Alice brought them their meals—much to Davina’s mortification every time the woman knocked and
stepped into the room. The handmaiden didn’t look at them, save for the one time when Davina caught her glancing appreciatively
at Rob lying in bed with the blanket riding over his hips.

Thankfully, when Alice’s eyes skitted over him, it was one of the rare times in three days that Rob wasn’t as hard as a battering
ram. Davina blushed at how many times they had made love during the day, and during the night. For the first pair of days,
her body had been sore and he took her slowly, tenderly. But this morn, and lord, her boldness still shocked her, she’d woken
up to his stiff erection jutting upward while he slept, and climbed on top of him.

He hadn’t minded her disturbing his slumber, but smiled at her, wilting her muscles altogether. His kisses were hot, his tongue
demanding as he cupped her rump in his hands and set her atop his unyielding passion. Oh, but it felt good riding him, looking
down at the sensual pleasure in his face, pleasure she gave him as she ground her hips down his length, then up again, panting
with her own release until she felt him spurt his precious nectar into her over and over.

Later, he took her from behind, bent over the bed with far less tenderness than he’d used previously. They slept in each other’s
arms after that, woke, ate, made love again, and then fell back to sleep.

How many hours ago had that been? Davina had lost track of time. She was hungry, and though she loved spending her days with
Rob, she suddenly felt tired of the same four walls.

“Rob.” She poked him gently in his side to wake him. “I’m hungry. Rob?” This time she gave him a little shake.

“Alice will be here soon,” he said sleepily, without opening his eyes.

“She won’t. I think it’s the middle of the night. I’m just going to go to the kitchen…”

“Nae.” His heavy arm fell over her waist and he hauled her to him with barely any effort. “Stay here.”

She waited until he began to snore again, and then she carefully lifted his arm and slipped out of the bed. The floor was
cold. She looked around for her slippers, but couldn’t find them in the fading light. Her belly growled, coercing her toward
the door in nothing but Rob’s heavy tunic.

She peeked out. The halls were dark and silent. She waited a few moments, hoping that Alice would appear at the stairs carrying
a tray of something scrumptious.

Was everyone asleep? She hoped so as she moved away from the door. She’d have to go through the Great Hall to get to the kitchen,
but she’d often pilfered the larder at St. Christopher’s in the middle of the night and had much experience with stepping
over sleeping bodies.

Her belly grumbled again, echoing down the empty halls. She padded down the stairs, peering left and right. Thankfully, there
was enough light from the tall candle stands on the first floor to see which direction she was going.

She stepped out of the shadows and stopped in her tracks at the two men rounding the corridor, coming right toward her. They
were laughing and hadn’t seen her yet. Davina turned to flee back up the stairs but came to an obedient halt when one of the
men called her name.

It was Will. She breathed a sigh of relief and turned to give him an explanation of what she was doing in the halls at this
hour, barefooted. But when she looked at him, his silvery gaze drifted over her long, loose hair, down Rob’s tunic, to her
bare calves. She heard his breath catch, and when he finally met her gaze, he wore a pained expression that made him appear
more vulnerable than she’d ever seen him. Somehow, it made her feel more self-conscious than when he raked his scandalous
smiles over her.

The man beside him took a step forward then stopped at the dagger at his throat. “John,” Will said without taking his eyes
off her, “go find a plaid fer Rob’s wife. Now.”

Sheathing his dagger, Will studied her in the candlelight while John took off toward the Great Hall without a look back. “Greetin’s,
fair lass. I was beginnin’ to grow concerned fer ye.” His mouth hooked into one of his familiar slight half-smiles when her
cheeks grew flushed. “I’m thankful to see ye lookin’ yer best. Where’s Rob that he should let ye wander around the castle
alone at this hour?”

“He’s asleep,” Davina told him, awkwardly crossing her arms over her chest. “I was hungry and just on my way to visit the
kitchen. I didn’t see any danger in it.”

“Lookin’ like that?” His eyes roved over her one last time before he dragged his gaze away, avoiding her altogether. “This
might be yer home now, lass, and we, yer kin. But no’ every man is yer brother.”

John returned with a long, tattered plaid, handed it over to Will, and was promptly sent on his way.

“Put it on,” Will said, tossing her the garment. “Then go back to yer room and make yer husband fetch ye some food.”

“Aye, sound advice.”

They both turned to see Rob descending the stairs, clutching his plaid around his waist. “Ye should have awakened me,” he
told Davina when he reached her.

“I tried,” she said, wrapping the plaid around her shoulders.

He offered her a repentant smile then glowered at Will when his cousin gave him a pitying look. “Off with ye now.” Rob kissed
the top of her head. “I’ll fetch ye somethin’ to eat.”

“Some fruit and perhaps some bread and honey,” Davina suggested gratefully as Rob urged her along. “Good night, Will,” she
called over her shoulder, smiling at Rob’s best friend when he tossed her a lecherous wink. He might be a wolf, but he was
as safe as a puppy with her. “And thank you for the plaid.”

“Are ye done lookin’ at her, then?”

Will blinked the reverence from his eyes and turned his usual reckless grin back to Rob. “Aye, until tomorrow, or whenever
the hell ye let her leave yer bed again.”

Rob gave him a foul look then smiled when Will clapped him on the shoulder. They were more than cousins. They’d been friends
since birth and there was no one Rob trusted more than William MacGregor.

“Come, have drink wi’ me,” Will offered, leading him down the corridor. “Yer wife willna mind if ye’re a wee bit late. I discovered
where m’ faither is hidin’ Angus’s brew.” In the dim light, his eyes gleamed with trouble. “There’s no’ much left, and if
we finish it off, there’s bound to be some good fightin’ when Angus returns.”

Rob looked back toward the stairs and draped the bulk of his plaid over his shoulder, but the sudden chill that coursed through
him remained. His father was due home within the fortnight.

“In here,” Will whispered, leading him into a small storage chamber adjacent to the buttery.

Rob waited while Will rummaged through dusty crates and shelves stocked with everything from used candles and rusty shearing
blades to empty wooden buckets too old and cracked to be of any use.

“Ah, here we are.” Will turned with a fistful of candles in one hand and two cups in the other. “Make room on that table fer
me, would ye?”

Rob swept his forearm across the surface, clearing the table of debris. “Have ye been keepin’ an eye on Asher?” he asked while
his friend lit the candles and blew dust from the cups.

“Aye.” Will bent to a small curtained alcove behind one of the crates, stuck his hand inside, and smiled. “He roams the castle
by day wi’ his eyes fixed to the floor.” Straightening, he held up a large bottle, corked at the neck, and offered Rob a victorious
grin. “I dinna’ think the captain will try to leave, but his door remains locked at night.”

“Good,” Rob said, still undecided if he’d done the right thing by letting Asher live. “Put him to work tomorrow. He needs
to earn his keep if he is to stay here.”

“Aye, I’ll have him clean the stalls in the stable house. He should feel right at home with the rest of the shyt.”