Page 299 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“We approached a small forest and she insisted she had to relieve herself. At first, Dayton refused to stop, but she told them she had no qualms about soiling herself and Brett in the bargain. We stopped and they allowed me to dismount. Under the guise or her helping me—which was no lie—we went behind a bush where she showed me a dirk hidden in her boot.”

“She had a blade?” St. Claire said. “Why did she not use it before you left the castle?”

“Because Brett threatened her with a knife to my throat.”

Fury flared in St. Claire’s eyes. “I would kill Dayton twice, if I could.”

“And I would watch.” But that wouldn’t bring Taresa back.

“Ye will have to reattach his head first,” her grandfather said.

Rhoslyn stared at her husband. “Ye severed his head?”

“I promised you his head.”

“And you keep your promises. I assume ye plan to send the head to Edward—once I have had a look?”

“Aye.”

“I wish I could deliver is myself,” she said, then quickly added when St. Claire’s eyes darkened, “Never mind. So, Lady Taresa told me to cry out as if I was in labor. I didna’ want to do it. But she insisted. She had a way of getting her way.”

Sir Derek smiled the first smile Rhoslyn had seen from him.

“I did as she commanded,” Rhoslyn went on, “and the two men hurried over to us. Lady Taresa stepped back and drove her blade down onto Brett when he faced me. I wish it had been Dayton instead, but Brett was closer. He turned in the last instant and deflected the blow. Your brother was furious. He was nothing like the first time he kidnapped me.”

“Dayton can be unstable,” St. Claire said. “Even as a boy he would lose his temper for something small, while maintaining an unnatural detachment.”

“His fury died as quickly as it came,” she said. “He was almost emotionless when he told Brett to kill Lady Taresa.”

Sir Derek cursed.

“Forgive me,” Rhoslyn quickly put in. “I...” She slumped against the pillows. “There is no easy way to tell this story.”

“Would you rather leave?” St. Claire asked Sir Derek.”

He straightened. “Nay. I would hear it all.”

St. Claire gave her a nod.

“There is little else to tell. Brett obeyed.” Rhoslyn grasped his arm. “St. Claire, we must find her. She must have a Christian burial. I remember where they left her.”

“I have already commanded that to be done.” Sir Derek looked at St. Claire. “I assumed you would want her cared for, laird.”

“Aye. I am grateful,” St. Claire replied.

“You know where she is?” Rhoslyn asked.

“We found her.”

“Sweet Jesu,” Rhoslyn whispered.

“She was alive,” St. Claire said. “We were with her until the end.”

Gratitude rushed through Rhoslyn. God hadn’t completely deserted her. “Then she told you.”

“Told us what?”

“That she loved you.” Rhoslyn looked from St. Claire to Sir Derek. “And you, Sir Derek. She wanted you to know that she loved you.”