Highlanders (30 page)

“You can be thankful that St. Claire isna’ like his brother.” Amusement sparkled the abbess’ eyes. “At least when St. Claire kidnapped you, he was only kidnapping his wife.”

Rhoslyn started before realizing the abbess would have heard of how St. Claire intercepted her on the way to marry another man. Thankfully, Beatrice didn’t wait for a reply, but said, “I understand there is even more reason to celebrate.”

Rhoslyn frowned. “There is?”

“Sir Talbot is reunited with his grandmother and has been named the new Earl of Baliman.”

“Oh, yes,” Rhoslyn said.

The abbess lifted her brows. “You are no’ pleased?”

“In truth, I am not as happy as I first was,” Rhoslyn admitted.

“Why?”

“King Edward demands that St. Claire return to England to swear fealty to him.”

“That is not strange,” Beatrice said.

“Nay,” Rhoslyn agreed. “But it is obvious he only wants control of St. Claire’s newfound power and wealth.”

“Did ye expect less?”

Rhoslyn shook her head. “Nay. But Edward must know how dangerous it is for St. Claire to leave Scotland at this time.”

“Sir Talbot expects his brother to attack?” Beatrice said.

Rhoslyn couldn’t halt the flush of embarrassment to her cheeks.

“Ye are not the first woman to be used as a pawn by men, Rhoslyn. You did nothing wrong.”

“I swear, I did nothing to encourage him,” she blurted.

The abbess grasped her hand and gently squeezed. “I know you, child. Ye are a good woman, obedient to God’s laws.”

Rhoslyn forced back the lump that formed in her throat. “Thank ye, Abbess.”

“Now, tell me of your husband,” Beatrice said. “I am hoping to meet him.”

* * *

Talbot entered their private chambers to discover Abbess Beatrice sitting with Rhoslyn. Rhoslyn’s cheeks were flushed with pleasure and his heart warmed when she said, “It is about time ye came home, St. Claire.”

Home
. This was the first time she’d referred to Castle Glenbarr as his home.

“Forgive me, my lady,” he said. “I have been occupied at Dunfrey Castle.”

“We have company,” she said, then laughed. “As ye can see. St. Claire, meet Abbess Beatrice, abbess of St. Mary’s.”

Talbot canted his head. “Sister Beatrice.”

Beatrice acknowledged with a nod. “My lord, it is good to finally meet you.”

“Sir Talbot will do,” he said.

The same amusement he’d seen the night she’d visited him now tugged at her mouth.

“Nay, laird. Sir Talbot will no’ do. Will ye sit with me? I would like to learn a bit about the man Lady Rhoslyn married.”

“If you wish,” he replied. “But I must warn you, I have been working, and am not sweet smelling.”

“If you smelled of rose water, I would worry.” She turned her attention to Rhoslyn. “Will you leave us for a little while, Rhoslyn?”

Rhoslyn cast an anxious glance at Talbot. He tensed. Did she suspected the abbess of being his informer the night she fled the convent? No. She wouldn’t have been chatting so freely if she suspected.

“Of course,” Rhoslyn said.

When she closed the door behind her, he said, “Perhaps you ought to stay indefinitely, Sister.”

“Why is that?”

“Lady Rhoslyn defies Lord Lochland when he orders her to leave, but does not utter a peep when you ask.”

“I imagine that did no’ please the earl.”

Talbot smiled at the memory. “It did not. Now, Sister, what brings you to Castle Glenbarr? Have you come to collect on that favor I owe?”

Her expression sobered. “I am, in fact, here to do you another favor.”

“What is the price this time?” he asked.

“I can promise you this news is worth any price. Have you received word yet from Edward to return to England?”

Talbot was surprised by the question. “A month ago,” he replied.

She gave a single shake of her head. “Nay, I speak of the letter commanding you to Wales to squash a rebellion.”

“Wales?” Talbot said. “I have heard of no trouble there.”

“Have ye considered what will become of Rhoslyn if you die in battle?”

Unease caused the hair on the back of his neck to stiffen. “That is not going to happen.”

“It is unlikely.” She locked gazes with him. “So long as you do no’ return to England.”

“What are you saying?” he demanded.

“Ye didna’ heed Edward’s command to return to England and swear fealty to him.”

“I cannot leave Rhoslyn.”

“Nay, you cannot, and for reasons you may not know.”

“Such as?” he asked.

“Such as you no’ returning from Wales and Edward marrying her to your brother.”

“My brother?” he repeated. “Sister, I owe you a debt, but I will not be manipulated.”

A long pause stretched out before she said, “Even by Edward?”

Especially by Edward
, he wanted to say, but that was untrue. He, like all knights, was manipulated by his king. But service to Edward provided a better life than he could have hoped for otherwise. A manipulation like this, however—either the Abbess was lying or she was misinformed. Then why he hadn’t he heard from Edward in the last month? The sovereign’s silence troubled him. At the very least, he’d expected a scathing response. At worst, Edward could have shown up on his threshold with a legion of his men.

Nay. Talbot shoved the thought away. Edward was a king. He did what all kings did to preserve their power, but he didn’t send loyal knights to be assassinated.

“I am sorry, Sister. Nothing you say can convince me that my king will have me killed—for any reason.”

“I pray, my lord, that you see the light. Otherwise, I fear for Rhoslyn and your child.”

* * *

Standing on the wall, Talbot stared down at the missive from King Edward.

Talbot,

I understand your fears. We would risk all to protect our wives, even the wrath of our king. For this reason, I forgive your failure to heed my earlier command. However, there is a dire matter which requires your attention and cannot wait. Madog ap Llyweln is gathering forces for a rebellion. You are to leave immediately for Wales, where you will join my army at Gwynedd. Quell the rebellion and bring Llyweln to me.

The five hundred men-at-arms I sent with this letter will accompany you. You need not worry about Lady Rhoslyn. Five hundred more men are on their way to Castle Glenbarr. These, along with your men, will suffice to protect the castle until your return.

Send one of my men back with word that you are on your way.

When you quash the revolt, return to England. You will want to see your father. He is not well.

Talbot froze at the last line. Surely his father’s wife would have sent word if something was wrong? Talbot forced reason. This was a ploy—had to be a ploy—on Edward’s part to ensure that Talbot went to Wales. Still, worry niggled. His father hadn’t written. Considering the trouble with Dayton, their father should have replied to at least one of Talbot’s letters. Was Edward preventing him from writing? Had Edward intercepted the letters?

Talbot looked at Edward’s signature. He had signed the missive with a simple
‘Edward’
as if he and Talbot were close.
He shifted his gaze past the battlement to the field beyond where waited five hundred men-at arms. Five hundred men who, without doubt, were commanded to besiege the castle if Talbot didn’t leave for Wales.

Edward believed unequivocally in his sovereignty—and believed that everyone should and would accept his authority. Which was why he would never send five hundred men to protect a knight’s family, even a knight turned earl. He expected obedience at all costs. Edward was not his friend.

Three weeks had passed since the abbess’s visit, with no word from Edward until now. She had told the truth. Edward intended that he die in Wales. 

Talbot envisioned Rhoslyn and their son twenty years from now having lived with Dayton as their lord. Rhoslyn would never break, but she would hate the man who manipulated their son in order to maintain control over the earldom. It was highly probable Rhoslyn would kill Dayton long before that. She wasn’t a woman to let anyone hurt those she loved.

Edward’s letter meant that Talbot had to find Dayton—now. As the Earl of Baliman, Talbot could take a legion of men and upturn every rock until he found his brother. Then he would cut out his heart and send it back to Edward.

Talbot turned to Ross, who stood a respectful distance away. “Take your best man and leave through the secret passageway below the east tower. Send the man to Seward. You go to Lady Taresa. We need every man who can wield arms.”

“How long will the English army wait?”

“A day, no more. But that is of no consequence. They cannot take Castle Glenbarr before you return.”

He released a breath and looked again at the men who covered the field like ants. He had never run away from a battle. Staying behind, not going to Lady Taresa to gather his men felt like running away.
His men
. Whether by blood or by chance, he was the Earl of Baliman. The men who served Lady Taresa served him. The time was now to proclaim to all, Scottish and English, that this was his place in the world and no one, not a local warlord or the king of England was going to take that from him.

* * *

The door to the solar opened and Rhoslyn jerked her head up from the parchment she’d been staring at the last hour. St. Claire stood in the doorway. They stared for a long moment, then he entered, closing the door behind him. Rhoslyn sat frozen as he crossed the room.

He stopped beside the table where she sat. “The men will be here within the hour.”

She nodded. The knot that had been lodged in her throat since the English army arrived that morning moved higher in her throat.

“You have not forgotten what we planned?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“You will not falter?” he persisted.

She would, but she shook her head.

“Tell me,” he said.

How could she say the words?

He grasped her hand and pulled her to her feet.

“Say the words.”

She shook her head.

“Please me in this, Rhoslyn.”

She understood why he insisted. If she said the words then it would be real. But she didn’t want it to be real.

“You promised,” he said gently.

“Aye. I promised. But that doesna’ mean I have to say it out loud.”

“It does. Say it.”

She couldn’t.

Rhoslyn dropped her gaze. “If ye dinna’ return, I will go immediately to Lord Melrose and marry him.” The words were out of her mouth, but she couldn’t believe her lips had formed the sounds.

With a finger beneath her chin, St. Claire tilted her face upwards. “I plan to return.”

She couldn’t bring her eyes to meet his.

“Look at me, love.”

She forced her gaze upward.

“You are not to leave the castle until I return.”
Or you leave to go to Melrose
, she heard the unspoken words. “If I return and find you one foot outside the castle, you will force me to punish you.”

Rhoslyn snorted. “Beware, St. Claire, ye might return to find I locked the gate.”

A corner of his mouth turned upward. “Good. Now kiss me before I go.”

He was truly going. Going into a battle against his countrymen who had come to kill him. If he had agreed to go with them, would he have reached Wales or would he have died on the road by some unseen
robber
? Edward wouldn’t care how his assassin carried out the order, he would only care that St. Claire was dead.

St. Claire lowered his head and covered her mouth with his. He pulled her flush against his body and Rhoslyn melted against his solid warmth. The kiss was gentle and too short.

When he lifted his head, she said, “Ye need no’ go yet. There is an hour yet before they arrive.”

He gave a low laugh. “Aye, but I must meet them, remember?”

Her heart pounded. Why did he have to join the battle? He knew the assassin would seek him out. What if there was more than one? What if all five hundred had been commanded to kill him?

Rhoslyn startled when St. Claire laid a palm on her belly. The warmth of his fingers penetrated the fabric of her dress and she closed her eyes, memorizing his touch.

“He is quiet today,” St. Claire said.

“Aye,” Rhoslyn replied.
Perhaps he knows his father is leaving.

“He is growing large.”

She flushed. Her girth had increased and she had become embarrassed to disrobe in front of him. But St. Claire wouldn’t allow her to go to her room to change. He insisted she stay.

He dipped his head and placed a kiss on her belly, then straightened. “I will see you when I return.”