The Viper (Highland Guard #4)(5)

Even then it would be a challenge. Robert was in for a long, difficult struggle. His cause was anything but certain. Bella did not delude herself: in doing this, in aligning herself so publicly with Bruce, her future would be uncertain as well. She would be branded a rebel by the English king who claimed Scotland as his dominion.

If Robert lost, if he failed to gather enough support from Scotland’s nobles, he would stand no chance against Edward. And defying Edward Plantagenet was a grave risk indeed.

Bella had looked to her mother for guidance. Though her mother had recently married one of Bruce’s men, she would not be asking Bella to crown Robert for that alone. Like Bella, her mother wanted to see Scotland freed from English tyranny, and both believed that Robert Bruce was the man to see it done. Her mother’s conviction in Bruce’s cause was just as strong as her own. Edward Plantagenet had tightened his iron fist around the neck of Scotland, and Robert Bruce was its last breath. If anyone could do this, he could.

She had to take the risk. In many ways this was the moment she’d been waiting for throughout her entire life. A chance to do something truly important. A chance to stand up for what she believed in. Duty, loyalty, putting her needs behind the good of her family and Scotland. These weren’t mere words or ideals, but something real. Something worth fighting for.

Duty had kept her by her husband’s side for so long, but Buchan had never earned her loyalty. For the sake of their daughter she’d weathered his storm of jealous rage, suspicion, and obsessive lust.

To protect her daughter she might have had second thoughts, had her husband not mentioned that he was considering betrothing the twelve-year-old Joan, named after her grandmother, to one of his cronies, a man four times her age.

Bella would die before she let that happen.

Once her mother had assured her that Joan would be able to come with her, Bella had agreed.

But seeing the man he’d sent for her, she wondered what she’d gotten herself into. If Lachlan MacRuairi was the sort of man Robert was relying on, the rebellion was doomed before it had begun.

How much had he had to pay him? She doubted there was an amount high enough to ensure the loyalty of a brigand like MacRuairi.

MacRuairi folded his arms across his chest, an impatient gesture made threatening by the massive size of his arms. Muscles like that could be earned only on a battlefield. Many battlefields.

“Is there a problem?”

“I was expecting …” She glanced into the darkness behind him, hoping to see a party of shiny, mail-clad knights rush out of the shadows.

His eyes narrowed to slits, almost as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

“Where are the rest of the men?” she finished lamely.

Her question seemed to amuse him, if the twist in his mouth could be construed as a smile. “Waiting below.”

“How did you get in here? What happened to the guard?”

“Guards,” he corrected. He gave her a hard look. “I thought Buchan did not suspect anything?”

Bella almost laughed. All her husband did was suspect. Falsely—not that it mattered anymore. But she knew that Lachlan was referring to her plans to crown Bruce. “That’s not why he has me watched.”

He gave her a questioning look but didn’t ask what she meant. She wouldn’t have told him anyway.

The brigand had extinguished his pleasantries—if they could be called such—and was obviously anxious to get on with his reason for being here. He moved to the window, careful to stay out of sight but sneaking a glance at the courtyard below. “Come.” He took her elbow, and every nerve ending sparked at his touch. “We have to go. There isn’t much time. Fetch your cloak and anything else you wish to take with you. But be quick about it.”

What was he talking about? They weren’t supposed to leave until tomorrow. Nothing was ready. She’d left the evening meal early to start gathering their belongings.

Bella jerked her arm from his hold, having no wish to go anywhere with him. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what this is about.”

She didn’t think it was possible for his face to grow more menacing. He leaned closer, his eerie, piercing eyes pinning her. Green, she realized. Even in the darkness his eyes glowed like two golden emeralds in the sun.

“What this is about?” he repeated. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he thrust her toward the window. “It’s about those banners in the distance just beyond the trees. In about ten minutes your husband and his men are going to ride through that gate, and if I were you I wouldn’t want to be here when he arrives.”

She gasped, the color draining from her face. Her eyes searched the brigand’s hostile, merciless gaze and read the answer to her question: Her husband knew. Somehow, Buchan had learned of her plans.

And God help her, he was going to kill her.

Lachlan saw her blanch and almost regretted his harshness. Almost. But the way the haughty little countess looked at him, the way she flinched from his touch, pricked.

It shouldn’t.

God knows he was used to suspicion and disdain—hell, it was warranted. Bastard. Ruthless. Predatory. Opportunistic pirate. Those were a few of the more flattering things he’d been called. Most of them were true. Even among the other members of the newly formed Highland Guard he was suspect.

He didn’t give a shite what anyone thought. Usually. But the scorn in those big, flashing blue eyes set him on edge. Actually, a number of things about Bella MacDuff set him on edge.