Ravished by a Highlander (35 page)

“’Tis Colin,” Rob’s father said and raised his hand to halt the archers.

A wave of panic washed over Rob such as he had never felt before. Why was his brother here? What had he done? If he’d told
the king that his daughter was here, would he point her out as well? Sick to his stomach, Rob looked toward the chapel’s outside
entrance. They weren’t going to take her from him.

“It’s the king.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Asher exiting the castle with Jamie. “He travels without his banner, but his regal bearing is difficult
to conceal.”

“He’s correct,” Callum told them, his sharp eyes fastened on the large troupe coming over the hills only a few hundred feet
away now. The lead rider was in fact his son. The man beside him pushed back his hood to reveal a somewhat pale, yet familiar
face as his eyes scanned the battlements, and then the men beneath them.

“Stand doun!” Callum roared to the guards and then waited while the riders grew closer. “Shyt,” he groaned and then turned
to his son. “Remember, I beg ye, what we spoke of. Dinna’ tell him ye wed her, Robert.”

Asher was the first to fall to his knee when the king reached them. Callum followed, keeping his stormy gaze on his youngest
son as he leaped from his saddle.

“Faither, I—”

But Callum raised his palm to quiet him as the rest of his men knelt behind him, following his example.

When Rob was the only one still standing, the king glanced at Colin. “Your brother, I presume?”

Colin nodded and met Rob’s murderous gaze. “I told only him, Rob. No one else knows.”

Rob’s fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. If Colin was not his brother, he would have run him through then and
there and to hell with the king.

“Where is she?”

Rob cut his dark gaze to the king when he spoke. Rob hated him, hated him for leaving her, for sentencing her to a life without
her family, for never bothering to see her.

A thread of hope emerged from the gloom. Elaine. Davina was Elaine.

“She isna’ here,” Rob said, giving Colin a warning look that said if he contradicted him, he would regret it. “It has all
been a—”

But the king was not listening to him. His eyes had settled on someone behind Rob, and his face… his face told Rob who it
was without having to look.

“Daughter.” The king barely breathed the word, as if what he was seeing could not be real. His eyes gleamed with tears as
he slowly dismounted. “You have changed little since last I saw you.”

God, nae.

Now Rob did turn to her and found tears streaming down her face. Instinctively, he reached his hand to hers to comfort her,
but she dropped to her knees and dipped her head.

“Arise, Davina.” The king reached for her, paused as if she might flee, and then gently pulled her up by the shoulders.

Everyone around Rob ceased to exist—everyone but Davina. He could not move. He could not breathe as he watched her set her
shimmering eyes on her father for the first time. Everything in him wanted to snatch her away from the man reaching his fingers
to her face. But she closed her eyes, as if the moment she had dreamed about for so long had finally come, and only his touch
would prove it real.

Losing Davina suddenly became more real for Rob than ever before. This was what she wanted. What she had always wanted. Her
father. He took a step toward her, but Callum’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“You will never know how sorry I am for not being in your life.”

The king’s softly spoken words were like daggers to Rob’s heart. If any other father had uttered them to his wife, Rob would
have rejoiced for her, knowing how desperately she needed to hear them. But this father had the power to take her away—and
as Davina covered her face in her hands and wept, Rob doubted she would resist.

That is, until she lowered her hands and looked at him with her whole heart in her eyes.

Following her sorrowful gaze, King James turned to Rob and sized him up with a worried crease marring his regal brow. “You
are Robert MacGregor,” he said, revealing that Colin had told him much. “You are the man who saved my daughter’s life.”

Looking at her, Rob recalled that wondrous day, and every day after that. It hadn’t taken him long to fall in love with her
modest smile, her playful laughter, her glorious eyes always on him, always expecting him to leave her. He never would. But
her heart was soft, so very soft. ’Twas yet another reason he loved her. She’d forgiven Asher for betraying her. She would
forgive her father too.

“I owe you much more than I can ever repay,” the king went on, grasping Davina’s hand in his. “You gave me back my life.”

And you mean to take away mine.
Rob did not speak the words aloud. He couldn’t. He couldn’t think of his life without her.

“MacGregor”—the king turned to Rob’s father—“might you invite us in from the chill? There is much you and I must discuss.”

Callum ground his jaw and spared his eldest son a sober look before he nodded and gave the command to see to the king and
his men’s comforts.

“Captain Asher,” the king greeted, patting Asher on the shoulder before following Callum inside. “Young MacGregor has told
me of your courage, as well. You too will be rewarded.”

Rob watched them enter Camlochlin with rage clouding his vision. It was not directed at Asher for the praise he’d received.
The captain was a coward. Rob knew it, and so did Asher. It didn’t matter what the king believed. Nae, his wrath was directed
at his brother, and as Colin tried to step into the entryway, Rob stepped forward and blocked his path.

They waited in silence until they were alone, and when they were, Colin spoke first. “Brother, I—”

“Colin,” Rob’s sharp voice cut him off, “from this day on, I am nae longer yer brother.”

Colin backed up a pace as if Rob had struck him. His eyes rounded with stunned disbelief. “How the hell can ye say that to
me? I brought him here through the hills as we have been taught. I—”

“What did he offer ye?” Rob asked calmly. Too calmly. Anyone else would have backed further away, knowing Rob’s slow temper
was about to snap.

“What?” Colin nearly spat the word at him.

Rob came at him like a bull, grabbing Colin’s tunic at the throat and hauling him against the wall with one hand and tearing
Colin’s sword from its scabbard with the other before his brother could reach for it.

“Ye told him! Ye told him, Colin! Now, I’ll ask ye again. What did he offer ye?”

Colin stared at him with his own brand of rage making his eyes blaze like molten gold. “I should run ye through fer what ye
accuse me of,
brother
.”

He did not blink or cringe when Rob’s fist came at his face. But the blow did not come.

“Let him speak, Rob,” Tristan said, holding back his brother’s wrist.

Rob yanked his arm free and turned away, not wanting to hear what Colin had to say.

“Why did ye bring him here?” he heard Tristan ask.

“I brought him here because if our faither—or any one of us—believed Mairi was dead and she wasn’t, we would want to know.
I heard Davina’s pain of never knowin’ her faither. He heard it too.” He pointed to Rob’s back. “She spoke of him often, did
she no’, Rob?” he challenged, but did not wait for an answer. “When I met the king, I had nae intention of tellin’ him anything—”

“Then why did ye!” Rob shouted, turning to him once again.

“Because his pain of never knowin’ her was just as great!” Colin shouted back. “She’s his bairn, Rob. He loves her.”

Rob moved toward him, but now his rage had passed and he stared quietly into his brother’s eyes. “So do I, Colin.” He said
nothing else and entered the castle alone.

“I knew he loved her,” Colin said thoughtfully, looking after him. “We all did, but—”

“He took her as his wife,” Tristan told him quietly as they headed inside.

“Och, nae,” Colin stopped and raked his hand through his hair. “He knew who she was. He couldna’ have.”

“He did, nonetheless.”

“Damn fool!” Colin swore.

Tristan tossed him a quelling look over his shoulder and shook his head. “I should have let him hit ye.”

Davina sat in Callum’s private solar with Rob’s parents, two of the king’s guardsmen standing behind her, and her father.
Was he real? Was any of this real? She pinched her thigh twice to convince herself that she was awake. The second time she
pinched too hard and jumped a little in her chair. Beside her, the king patted her hand and gave her a tender smile before
turning his attention back to Callum.

“You have a most impressive home, MacGregor. It was clever of you to build here. The landscape makes it virtually impossible
to arrive unseen.”

“Aye, there was need fer such when I built it.” Callum poured four cups of warm mead and handed the first to his wife.

“Ah yes, during the proscription,” the king said, accepting his drink next. “You were an outlaw and a rebel then.”

Was this truly her father’s voice she was hearing, his warmth seeping into her skin, his scarred, calloused hand atop hers?
Davina wanted to turn and look at him, take in every angle. She’d dreamed of his face and now here it was, just a few inches
from her own.

“Aye,” Rob’s father said, standing over her with her cup. “There was need fer that as well.”

Davina took her cup with a shaky hand, wishing it was something stronger. Her father had come for her and she doubted he would
leave without her. Dear God, help them all. Why did he come now? What was she to do? There was only one thing. But how could
she leave Rob, or Camlochlin? Everyone at St. Christopher’s had died because of her. She couldn’t… she wouldn’t let everyone
at Camlochlin die for her, as well. She looked toward the door. Where was Rob? He would never let her go if she was forced.
Would he let her go if she went willingly?

“You are trembling, my dearest.” Her father leaned in closer to her, washing her in his scent. “I understand my arrival was
unexpected—”

“I am fine, really,” she said, quickly wiping a tear from her eye. “Just… overwhelmed.”

He smiled at her and Davina took in every crease, every crinkle that lined his comely face. How long had she wondered what
he looked like? She thought his hair would be pale like hers, but it was completely gray now. His dark blue eyes were somber,
shadowed by years of battle, on the field and off. His nose was long and straight, and his lips were thin, probably not prone
to smiling. Until today.

“I am overwhelmed, as well.”

Was he? She wanted to believe him. Did kings become overwhelmed by their children? He’d said he had seen her. When? Had he
visited St. Christopher’s when she was a child? Why hadn’t she been allowed to see him if he had been there? She wanted to
ask him, but smiled instead. He hadn’t forgotten her.

And it was when she was smiling, as if her life had just become complete, that Rob opened the solar door and stepped inside.
The flames in the large hearth trembled at his presence, for he brought the cold with him, spreading it to each of them until
his mother bounded from her chair and went to him. She spoke in a hushed voice against his chest, but whatever she said did
not comfort him. His anguished, angry gaze remained fixed on Davina.

He said nothing, nor did he take a seat or pour himself a drink. He simply stood at the door, a barricade of raw brawn and
single determination.

Davina felt faint with the need to go to him, to tell him she loved him and nothing would ever change that, but she would
not let him die for her. But it was Rob’s father and not her own who stopped her from moving. With one look Callum spoke to
her, reminded her of Rob’s fate should her father learn of her Highland marriage. She was the king’s daughter, whether she
liked it or not, and the ruler of the three kingdoms had not cloistered his firstborn in a nunnery to save her for a life
as a commoner.

“Yer Majesty,” Callum said, shifting his powerful gaze to the king, “ye have met my son, Robert.”

“Briefly, yes,” James said, studying Rob’s scowl with a wary smile. “Tell me, MacGregor, do all your sons share a common mistrust
of nobility?”

“Sadly, nae.” The chief looked genuinely disappointed. “Ye met my son Tristan in England, if ye recall.”

The king chuckled softly at what could have been construed as an insult. “Knowing most of the nobility in England and Scotland,
I’d say you taught
most
of your sons well.”

“Aye,” Callum agreed. “’Tis difficult when yer own nephew plots against ye.”

The king nodded, raising his cup to his lips. “It is only a matter of time before Monmouth is caught, and Argyll as well.”

Rob made an impatient sound, pulling Davina’s cautious gaze to him. He stood alone, so tall and strong, folding and then unfolding
his arms over his chest, the lines of his jaw rigid. The solar suddenly seemed too small with him in it. She was surrounded
on all sides by men of great power and skill, but none of them made her heart accelerate, her mouth go dry by the sheer force
of Rob’s indomitable strength. Like the mountains that rose up around his home, he was unbendable, unbeaten by the storms
that raged around him. He’d protected her when he could have chosen not to, he’d promised to keep her safe, and he had. She
felt treasured in his arms, untouchable by his side. If she lost him, she would cast her heart into the sea and never love
another.

Rob ignored his father’s warning glance with a black look of his own and asked boldly, “And Admiral Gilles? What are yer men
doin’ aboot him?”

The king looked up at him without censure, but with refreshed curiosity. “We will find him.”

“Before he finds her?” The flagrant challenge in Rob’s voice was undeniable.

“He will never find her here, sire,” Callum interjected before his son spoke again. “And if he does, as ye know now fer yerself,
we will see him comin’ long before he arrives.”

“Leave her here?” the king asked. For a moment he seemed to be considering it, but then his gaze shifted back to Rob. “You
have my deepest gratitude for saving my daughter, but I am afraid I must decline.”