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“No. She can’t. Or at least I hope not. She knows I’ve been obsessed with her for a very long time. That I care for her—love her. But I don’t think she understands how deep it runs with me. Or at least I hope not.” Roe took Logan’s invitation and swung forward, sending his brother’s heels into the shallow of the water. “It’s why I’m leaving her here. I’m not going to burden her with that knowledge, not with what I have to do. Not when I know what I’m going to be walking into with Bockton.”
“What exactly are you walking into?”
“Hell. Hell on water.”
“Then I go with you.” Logan ducked low on a swing and pounced away from the water’s edge.
“No.” The low roar of Roe’s voice shook down through his sword arm. He smashed his blade into Logan’s for emphasis. “You’re staying here. He’s after her and you’re protecting her at all costs. Swear it to me.”
Their blades tangled, Logan locked eyes with Roe. “Hunter can protect her just as well as I can—even better. His shot is unmatchable. We’ll send her up to Shadowhawk—no one is going to get to her there.”
“Hunter’s not my brother, Logan. You are. Swear it. Swear you’ll keep her safe.”
Logan nodded, all resistance on his sword falling away. “I’ll keep her safe.”
~~~
This wasn’t like the other men she’d watched fight for practice before.
She’d seen Scotsmen—huge, hulking men—tussle so many times. Fist to fist. Dagger to dagger. Sword to sword.
But she’d never seen anything quite like this. Never a battle with the raw ferocity that poured out of each man. Desperate. Brutal. Merciless.
Yet they both seemed in control.
Or so she hoped.
Her brow furrowed, Torrie stared at them from afar—the clashing of two brothers with hard Spanish steel between them.
Another wicked clank of the blades and she jumped in her seat just as Sienna sat next to her on the bench under the weeping willow that sat on the east corner of the pond.
Sienna handed Torrie a glass of lemonade, then settled against the back of the wrought iron bench, her gaze going to Roe and Logan a furlong away from them where the great lawn rolled down toward the willow-lined pond. Their white lawn shirts, half open at the neck and with their sleeves rolled up past their elbows, were stark against the green of the grass on the hill behind them. Roe’s sister-in-law watched the men, not the slightest flinch in her azure-streaked blue eyes as Logan’s fist made way across Roe’s jaw.
To Sienna, the scene was as docile as a rabbit munching on parsnip leaves.
Sienna nodded toward her husband and Roe, her gaze still on the men. “You’re questioning him, who he is. I can see it in how you watch him. The hesitation in your eyes.”
“Hesitation? Aye.”
Sienna’s look shifted to her.
“This.” Torrie’s hand swept around her, motioning to the grand lawn they sat at the edge of, the manicured trees lining the expanse up to symmetrically pruned gardens before the main house. “Roe didn’t breathe a word of this. About who he really was. The son of a duke. A baron. He let me believe he was one person when he has all of this behind him. You. Your husband. A damn title.” Her fingers flew in front of her mouth at the blasphemy flying from her tongue.
Sienna chuckled, grabbing Torrie’s fingers away from her lips. “Don’t fret on that—my mouth released curses just as easily as yours before we had children running about repeating what I was saying.”
Torrie gave her a weak smile.
Sienna released her hand. “Just because my husband is his brother, just because his father was a duke, it doesn’t make Robby any different than the man you met on that ship.”
“But why would he not tell me of this?”
“He didn’t tell you because he doesn’t know where he belongs. He never has. This has all come about in the last several years and it isn’t who either of them is. Not truly.” Sienna took a sip of her lemonade, her gaze going to the men as steel clashed hard on steel and the swords slid upon each other until the men were nose to nose. Roe shoved off of Logan, springing a step backward.
The edges of Sienna’s lips quirked downward. “And Robby has never believed in himself. He needs others to do that for him.”
Torrie scoffed a hard chuckle. “The man has enough bravado for the entire fleet of the royal navy.”
“It may seem that way—it always has. But it’s a farce. I have known Robby since we were both three years old and for as much as he’s changed, become a better man, there is one truth about him that has never altered.” Sienna clutched the lemonade glass in both of her hands, setting them on her lap, and her canny blue eyes centered on Torrie. “He needs others to believe in him since he cannot do it for himself. He has Logan. He has me. He has select members of his crew. We all do that for him, but it isn’t always enough.”
