Heart's Thief (Highland Bodyguards, Book 2) (19 page)

“What is the meaning of this?” Edward Bruce barked.

Both Kirk and Colin stiffened on either side of Sabine at his sharp tone.

The room spun faster around her, but then it suddenly stopped. A strange calm came over her. She wouldn’t have to look away from Colin’s searching blue eyes anymore. She wouldn’t have to hide the truth of her betrayal. It meant watching Colin’s heart be ripped out, and knowing she was responsible, but at least there would be no more lies between them.

“What is amiss, milord?” Kirk said, taking a step forward.

Edward held up the empty waxed parchment wrapping.

“There is no missive here,” he snapped, his dark eyes pinning Colin.

“Nay,” Colin breathed.

Sabine looked up at him, as if seeing him through the mist of a dream. He would never forgive her for this. Yet her heart still stretched toward him. She loved him, she realized with a start.

Colin shoved his hand back into the neckline of his tunic, his hand fishing wildly in the hidden pocket within. A moment later, he yanked the whole tunic off his head. He gripped the front where the jaggedly sewn line marked the path of the sword that had almost sliced his chest in two.

The tense air within the tent was split with the sound of rending fabric as Colin tore his tunic apart.

“Nay,” he panted again, staring down at the strips of wool in his hands.

The look of devastation in his eyes cut Sabine to the quick. He’d failed at his mission—because of her. Men would die—because of her.

But she could still make up for some of the destruction she’d caused. Nay, she couldn’t undo her betrayal of Colin in reading the missive. But she could help him in the cause that was most important to him.

Squeezing her eyes shut to block out distractions, Sabine opened her mouth and dragged in a deep breath.

“
I have heard rumblings from your isle. Be warned, brother, de Burgh is not your only enemy.
”

“Sabine, what are ye—”

“What is the meaning of this?” Edward demanded again, cutting Colin off.

“
He seeks to lure you south to Louth, but he is no doubt up to something. Hold your position in Inniskeen.
” Her brows lowered as she concentrated on the words. She’d learned how to hold them exactly right in her head, but Fabian didn’t usually interrupt her when she began reciting them.

“Bloody hell,” Kirk breathed off to her left. Colin sputtered for words on her other side, but he could not form any.

“
If Edmund Butler has joined de Burgh, he leaves the north vulnerable. This could be your chance to strike. The local lords in the north are with you.
”

The final words echoed through the tent, which had fallen eerily silent as she concluded the recitation.

Slowly, Sabine opened her eyes.

Kirk stared at her in stunned confusion. Edward Bruce’s brows were lowered and his mouth tight as he waited for an explanation.

And in Colin’s vivid blue eyes she found the bottomless agony of betrayal.

“Nay, Sabine,” he whispered. “Ye didnae—”

The words stuck in his throat and he was unable to continue, but the look he gave her might as well have been a knife burying itself in her heart. Hurt. Distrust. But worst of all, she saw resignation steal across his features.

“I-I opened the missive from the King,” she began, her voice barely audible even to her own ears. “I read it and memorized it.”

Edward Bruce’s eyes rounded in rage. “Ye’re a bloody Englishwoman!” he bellowed.

Belatedly, she realized that her English accent made her words all the more damning to the three Scots.

Edward took a rapid step toward her, closing half the distance between them.

Kirk bolted forward as well, though he angled his body slightly so that his shoulder jutted in front of Edward, as if to protect Sabine from any rash actions on Edward’s part. Still, his gaze was as cold and cutting as a shard of ice as he looked at her.

“Who in bloody hell are ye, lass?” he demanded, his voice chillingly level.

“As Colin said, my name is Sabine. I am—was—a thief…a spy, though I never considered myself such.”

Edward’s eyes widened even more until she could see white all around the dark center. His nostrils flared with fury.

“It was my job to steal documents—accounts, ledgers, but mostly missives—and either deliver them to my boss, or memorize the contents and let them continue on so that neither the sender or the receiver would know that the information had been compromised,” she went on quickly.

“Ye
vouched
for this woman?” Kirk asked, turning to Colin.

Colin’s features hardened, a wall dropping over the anguish in his eyes. “I thought I could trust her.”

“I am not loyal to my boss any longer,” Sabine said, looking between the three men for a sign that they would believe her. “I realize now that I have been a prisoner to him—to my own fears.” At the hard stares that met her, she hurried on. “Colin has shown me what it means to be loyal, honorable, to truly care about a noble cause. I see now the value of freedom, and I want naught more than to help.”

She turned to Colin as she spoke the last words, unashamed to let him see the truth in her eyes. She silently pleaded with him to understand, but he turned away, giving her the hard expanse of his bare back.

“Is this some sort of trick?” Edward demanded.

“Nay,” she said quickly. “The words I spoke were exactly as they appeared in the missive bearing King Robert the Bruce’s seal, I swear on my life.”

Edward’s face darkened. “Yer life is verra much at stake, lass, make no mistake.”

Sabine had to swallow, but she nodded her head. “I understand. And I did not recite the message in the hope that it would change your handling of me.” She dropped her head. Suddenly the weight of all the events of the last sennight caught up with her. “I…I know that you must do what you see fit with me. I delivered the message only because I wished for you to have the information. It may save many of your men’s lives.”

Edward let out a slow exhale through his teeth. At last, he spoke. “I need to think on this situation. No action will be taken against ye, woman—no’ yet, anyway—until I sort things out more fully. Colin, can ye see that the lass is secured somewhere?”

Colin lifted his gaze to Edward. “Aye, milord.”

“And Colin,” Edward said grimly. “I dinnae want the lass harmed, but nor do I want her to have a chance to escape.”

“Understood, milord.” Colin’s voice was hard and flat as he turned cold eyes on Sabine.

“And our plans to mobilize, milord?” Kirk asked quietly.

Edward eyed her for a long moment before answering. “Tell the men to hold our position for now. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.”

Kirk nodded and strode around Sabine toward the tent’s flaps.

With his features set in granite, Colin stepped in front of Sabine.

“My guard will show ye to an empty tent where ye can secure the lass,” Edward said, turning away.

Sabine prayed that she would find even the faintest trace of gentleness when Colin wrapped a large hand around one of her wrists.

But in his firm hold, she felt only his cold disgust.

So numb with shock was Colin that he hardly noticed where Edward Bruce’s guard was leading him.

He blindly followed the burly warrior through the maze of tents, oblivious to their surroundings. The only thing he could seem to focus on was the delicate bone of Sabine’s wrist, which he held in his grip.

She was so slight that if he’d wanted to, he could have snapped the bone with little more than a squeeze and a twist. Yet even after all she’d done, the thought of hurting her made his stomach roil with sickness.

It wasn’t until the guard halted in front of a small canvas tent and turned to Colin with a length of rope extended in his hand that his mind sharpened.

The full weight of Sabine’s betrayal suddenly descended on him, cutting through the fog of shock. His worst fears had come true for a second time. She’d taken advantage of his misguided trust—and his love.

He wordlessly took the rope from the guard and entered the tent, pulling Sabine behind him.

The interior was dim, as the sun had set some time while they’d been with Edward Bruce. Dried hay covered the ground, keeping the wet grass and mud underneath at bay. A thick pole stood in the middle of the circular tent. Other than that, the space was empty.

Colin led Sabine by the wrist toward the pole. He positioned the pole between them, then carefully grasped her left hand along with her right and began binding her wrists together around the wood.

He’d tied her before, but this felt different. He’d told her he loved her. He’d lain with her, trusting her to sleep in his arms after they’d made love.

He worked in silence, keeping his gaze on her trembling hands as he secured the rope.

“Ye can stand up or sit down as ye please,” he said, finishing his knot. “I’ll have the guard bring ye water and bread as well. Ye should be able to get them to yer mouth even with yer hands like this.”

“Colin, I—”

“If yer left shoulder begins to hurt ye,” he said, ignoring her pleading interjection, “I’ll reposition ye. But ye will remain bound.”

He turned to go, but her quavering voice stopped him.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please, just let me explain.”

Colin pivoted slowly on his heels, forcing himself to look Sabine in the face.

Her delicate features were contorted into a mask of desperation. Tears shone in her wide, imploring eyes. She didn’t fight against her constraints, but rather clutched the pole as if her legs were about to give out.

“Why did ye do it?” he rasped, breaking the thick silence between them.

Sabine’s slim throat bobbed as she struggled wordlessly.

“I…I feared that in the light of day, you would realize you’d made a mistake,” she said at last, her voice reed-thin. “You’d regret making love to me, telling me that you cared—that you loved me. You’d remember that you are a Scottish warrior fighting for freedom, and that I am your captive English spy.”

Colin’s heart twisted cruelly. It had been the same fear he’d had for her—that she would regret giving herself to him, that she would turn away from him.

“I feared that I had fooled myself again,” she went on, “that I would come to learn with time that I’d misplaced my trust in you, just as I did with Fabian. I believed in a moment of panic that I only had myself, that I could only trust myself. And you yourself told me that information was powerful. I thought to read the missive and stow its contents away in my mind so that if I ever needed to protect myself—from Fabian, or from you—that I could use the information as a shield.”

Colin exhaled slowly. In a distant corner of his mind, he understood her logic, albeit tainted by fear—fear that Fabian had instilled in her. But the angry, hurt voices screaming at him drowned out that whisper of understanding.

“So ye fucked me and then waited until I slept to open the missive. Clever,” he bit out, tasting bile as he spat the foul word.

She flinched as if he’d struck her. Aye, he’d intended to hurt her, but now he hated himself for it. Self-loathing mingled with hot fury, bubbling dangerously in his stomach.

“I didn’t use you in that way,” she whispered desperately, tears slipping freely down her pale cheeks. “You must believe me.”

He wanted to, damn it all, but the pain and anger were too great within him.

“Why didnae ye return the missive to my tunic, as ye ken well how to do? Wouldnae it have been easier to use the information to your benefit if I didnae ken ye had it?” he demanded.

“It was an accident. I didn’t mean to destroy the missive,” she murmured. “When I read it, I grew frightened, for I finally realized just how powerful—and deadly—such information could be. And I realized that I’d betrayed you in opening it.”

She dragged in a breath, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. “In truth, I don’t know what I might have done if the missive hadn’t caught fire when the ship rolled and the lantern tipped over.”

Colin felt the slightest twinge of relief to hear that she hadn’t intentionally burned the missive to keep it from him. He quickly shoved the feeling down, though. How could he even be sure she was telling the truth about it being an accident?

“I’d like to think that I would have confessed my actions immediately and begged your forgiveness,” she went on. “But I proved a coward after the missive burned. I knew I couldn’t keep it from you forever, but I could not face the pain of telling you what I’d done.”

“And now?” he asked quietly. “Why did ye tell Edward Bruce what the missive contained?”

“I spoke the truth earlier,” she said. “I was afraid of what would happen if that information fell into the wrong hands. And though I have never fought for any cause before, I believe with all my heart in the fight for freedom. I want to help you.”

He narrowed his eyes on her. “Is this some sort of trick? Will ye try to escape and pass this information along to Fabian? Or was it yer true mission all along to infiltrate the Scottish army here in Ireland?”

He gestured toward the necklace that hung around her neck as if it proved his suspicion.

“Nay,” she breathed, her eyes widening. “I will never give my loyalty to him again.”

“It seems that I still cannae tell when ye are lying and when ye are telling the truth,” he ground out harshly.

She gasped as if he’d struck her again, but then she exhaled slowly and met his eyes. “You have every right to distrust me—to hate me. I know how greatly I have hurt you. I betrayed you…as Joan did.”

“Dinnae speak her name to me,” he hissed, spinning on his heels and giving her his back.

“Colin, please!” Sabine cried out. “I wish there was some way I could make you understand—make you believe me.”

He dragged his gaze over his shoulder and their eyes locked.

“I promise never to lie to you again,” she said, holding his gaze with her tear-filled eyes.

“It’s a wee bit too late for that,” he murmured, turning away once more.

Her fingers clawed the air uselessly as she strained against her bonds to halt his exit. Soft fingertips brushed against his back, which was still bare since he hadn’t had time to don a new tunic after tearing his apart.

“Please,” she moaned. “No more lies between us, I vow it.”

He spun back to her, the emotion he’d fought so hard to keep leashed at last breaking free.

“No more lies?” He snatched her bound wrists in his hands, taking a swift step closer. “What of yer kisses, yer sighs of pleasure? I saw in yer eyes when I made love to ye that ye cared for me. Was that a lie, too?”

“Nay, that wasn’t a lie,” she breathed, her pain-filled eyes unwavering on his. “I more than care for you. I love you.”

Something cracked deep in Colin’s chest.

Like lightning, he closed the remaining distance between them. Half-mad with the storm of emotion breaking within him, he claimed her mouth in a searing kiss.

The salt of her tears mingled with the sweet honey of her mouth. She moaned, opening her lips to his invading tongue, surrendering to him.

Her nails sank into his chest as she looked for purchase, but he hardly noticed their bite. Need consumed him—need for Sabine, only Sabine.

His hand buried itself in her silky hair as he deepened the kiss. He tilted back her head, taking everything she would give him with savage hunger.

Blood roared in his ears and hammered in his veins. His cock strained toward her against his breeches, his skin aflame with unquenchable desire.

Through the blaze of passion and the storm of emotion, he felt the truth of all she’d said deep in his bones. She barred naught from him. She was utterly vulnerable in her submission to him in this moment.

In a blinding flash of clarity, he saw into her heart. Saw the pain, the fear. And saw the love and trust she bore for him.

Colin tore his mouth from hers, ripping his hands away as he forced himself to step back.

“Nay,” he breathed raggedly. “Nay, I cannae. I cannae trust ye. I
must
no’.”

Sabine sagged against the thick pole, her face crumpling in agony. She clung to the wood as she sank to her knees in the straw.

“Colin,” she whispered, tears once again welling in her eyes.

He turned and strode from the tent, her heartbroken sobs echoing in his ears.