Page 164 of Wicked Highland Heroes

There was, but Rhoslyn hesitated to say so.

“Tell me you wish to stay here and I will leave you in peace,” Dayton said.

Was this not what she’d wanted? She had planned this very thing before St. Claire caught her in the storeroom. Rhoslyn couldn’t help a glance at the doorway that led to her chambers. She would give anything not to have to return to that room. How could she live here...sleep in that room where the ghost of her son couldn’t possibly have come to peace yet with death?

“Decide, quickly,” Dayton said. “I have no wish to kill your guard, but if he awakens, I will have no choice.”

“We must go directly to Banmore Keep,” she said.

“Your grandfather’s home?” he said. “You will be safe there?”

She wasn’t sure. Longford Castle would be better, but the battle between St. Claire and Aodh made that impossible. In truth, she feared her plans would be for naught. Short of Jacobus getting her with child, Sir Talbot could enforce the marriage. All that aside, something bothered her about Dayton St. Claire. The gentle light in his eyes when he first arrived had been replaced by a feverish look that bordered on desperation...or was it insanity?

If she delayed or didn’t agree to go with him, would he kill Sheila? Might he kill her? That would solve his problems. Why didn’t he simply kill his brother? That too would end his problems. Was he capable of such treachery? Either way, she had to get him away from Sheila and the unconscious guard. There had been enough killing for one night. She could take him through the castle on a route that would get them discovered.

“I will be safe in my grandfather’s home,” Rhoslyn said, then told Sheila, who cowered beside the table, “Fetch my cloak.”

The girl rose slowly. “My lady, are ye certain you should go?”

“Do no’ argue” Rhoslyn snapped. “Fetch my cloak from the chair.” She faced Dayton. “It is early yet. The servants should not yet be here to the third floor, but this night has been a strange one. Look and be sure no one is in the hallway.”

He turned and started to the door. Rhoslyn took two steps to the fallen warrior and quietly slid his dagger from its sheath and slipped it into her cuaran along the inside of her ankle. She glanced at the warrior, then gave a prayer of thanks that his chest rose and fell with even breath. She rose and stepped away from the man. He would have a headache when he woke, but likely nothing more.

The creak of the door sounded behind her. “There is no one in the hallway,” Dayton said. “Come, we must go.”

Sheila stepped up, swung the cloak around her shoulders, and tied the cord.

Rhoslyn grasped her shoulders. “Say nothing of this, Sheila. Do ye understand?” The girl nodded, wide-eyed. Rhoslyn pulled her into a hug and whispered, “Wake the knight when we leave.” She drew back and said, “Hurry back to my bed and stay there until someone comes. Say you do not know where I am.”

Rhoslyn whirled and hurried to the door.

* * *

Thin curls of fog swirled about three approaching horsemen. Talbot assumed the one in the lead was Aodh Roberts. Of the two men who flanked Roberts, one carried a white flag of truce, the other a torch. Talbot shifted his gaze beyond the riders, past Roberts’ warriors, to the battlements of Longford Castle. Seward and the young Earl of Melrose must have watched Talbot’s approach, seen his and Seward’s banners. Each banner-man carried a torch to ensure the banners were recognized—a risky move, but he didn’t relish the idea of getting shot by a stray arrow if mistaken for one of Roberts’ men. There was, of course, the possibility they would shoot him on purpose.

Roberts neared, then came to a stop a few feet from Talbot.

“I am surprised to see ye here,” the Highlander said. “I expected you to wait at Castle Glenbarr for the good news that you are the new Baron Kinsley.”

“Go home,” Talbot said.

Roberts grinned. “So ye wish to kill the old man yourself.”

“Kinsley is my wife’s grandfather. You will not harm him.”

The Highlander’s brows snapped downward. “What? Ye should be glad to rid yourself of the old man.” He snorted. “Save those words for your wife. She might believe you.”

“Beware trying to deduce my thoughts, Roberts. Now, leave peaceably so my two hundred men may return to their beds.”

Dawn inched across the horizon, but it was the torchlight that allowed Talbot to read the shock on Roberts’ face.

“Ye have no right to interfere,” he snapped.

“Think,” Talbot said. “Even if I allowed you to kill Seward, the Earl of Lochland would hang you for murder. He is your lord as much as Seward’s.”

“Hang me? God’s teeth. Have Englishmen no bollocks? Here in Scotland we take what we want.”

Lady Rhoslyn was right. Aodh Roberts was a man who would rather take what he wanted than work for it, laws be damned.