The Magnificent Rogue (16 page)

“Did you like being a pirate?” she asked.

“It had its interesting moments.”

“Then will you do it again?”

“I think not.”

“Why not?”

“There’s no need. I have enough gold for my purposes now.”

“We needed the gold to expand our trade with Ireland, Kate,” Gavin said. “We needed warehouses and more ships.… Craighdhu is a hard land and will not support us.”

“I can’t believe it.” Kate’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “From what you’ve both told me, I thought it must be paradise.”

For a few minutes there was only the sound of the crackling fire. “Who is Malcolm?” she asked suddenly.

Robert looked up in surprise.

“Angus Gordon mentioned him, and you said—”

“I remember the occasion, but I wasn’t sure you would. You were a trifle upset at the time.” He went back to his mending. “Sir Alec Malcolm of Kilgranne. Some of his lands border mine.”

She frowned. “On Craighdhu?”

“No, Craighdhu is an island, but our clan also has land on the mainland.”

“Then he’s a Highlander?”

“He was
born
a Highlander,” Robert explained.

“He’s a greedy bastard,” Gavin put in from across the fire.

Robert smiled. “Gavin has no liking for my cousin Alec.”

“Another relation?”

“I told you, we’re almost all bound by family ties.”

“He’d like to sever that tie and your jugular with the same cut,” Gavin said bluntly. “You’re too lenient with him, Robert.”

“I’m not lenient. I’m just as greedy as my dear cousin. If I kill Alec, then James will have an excuse to send his troops in to avenge his favorite and grab Craighdhu. If I wait for a more propitious time, I stand a chance to make peace with Alec’s son, Duncan. He’s not a bad lad.”

“And keep Craighdhu safe,” Gavin added.

Robert nodded. “And keep Craighdhu safe.”

“If Alec lets you.” Gavin made a face. “There’s no telling what we’ll find when we reach home.”

“Jock will not have let the island be breached.” He shrugged. “And any land Alec’s taken, we’ll just take back.”

They were both so casual when speaking about blood and conquest, Kate thought, then realized with surprise that she was no longer shocked, as she had been at first. Had custom hardened her? “Wouldn’t that make James just as angry?”

“Perhaps, but not enough to give him an excuse to
march in and try to get it back for Alec. It’s all a balance that has to be struck.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You would if you’d ever met your dear brother.”

“I’ve heard he’s not overpopular in Scotland.” She smiled, reminiscing. “When I was very little, I used to dream about James riding into the village one day, taking me away from Sebastian and carrying me off to live with him at his castle in Edinburgh.”

“I assure you, James would have no family feelings toward you. His ambitions exceed even Malcolm’s.”

“He wants more power?” She shook her head. “I wonder why, when he has so much already.”

“Power can be a heady brew.”

She thought about it. “I believe I can understand that.”

“What?” Robert’s head lifted, and she heard Gavin’s indrawn breath.

“It must be pleasant to have power. I think I would like it very much indeed.”

“Then think again,” Robert said harshly. “Unless you have a desire to follow in your mother’s footsteps.”

Her casual words had disturbed him, she realized with lazy amusement. Another sign that they were drawing closer. She wondered if she could provoke a further response. “I’ve always hated being helpless. It was like a bleeding sore when I was with Sebastian. And you like power yourself.” She softly quoted his own words, “ ‘The sweet prerogatives of power.’ ”

“The prime prerogative of power is to use it in staying alive.”

He was growing more intense by the moment over a subject that was blatantly ridiculous. She smiled teasingly. “But I’m not as unwise as my mother. I would never make the mistakes she did.”

“Christ.”

“She doesn’t mean it, Robert,” Gavin said. “Can’t you see she’s joking?”

“I’m not so sure.” Robert’s gaze drilled her own. “Are you joking, Kate?”

She was suddenly not certain how much was jest and how much was truth. She had never thought about herself in connection with power. She had rejected the concept along with all of Sebastian’s other views, but now, in this moment of dreamlike contentment, the idea held a subtle allure. “It’s a terrible thing to be made to feel defenseless. I will never go back to that again. Yet I don’t believe I would want to be in the position of imposing my will on others. Sometimes my temper is unruly, and that would not be good.” She frowned, weighing the matter. “Unless I could learn to control my passions. And power would bring safety, wouldn’t it?”

“Not for you. You say you’re not unwise, but you’re a thousand times more ignorant than Mary,” he bit out. “And you’re no match for James. Dammit, he could have stopped your mother from being beheaded.”

Her eyes widened. “How?”

“All he had to do was threaten to invade England if she was executed. Elizabeth wouldn’t have risked war to rid herself of a threat who was already her captive. Instead, when Mary was condemned to death by Parliament, all James did was send a weak protest.”

“Perhaps he thought that would be enough.”

Robert shook his head. “He wants to be king of England as well as Scotland. His mother stood in the way.”

“Matricide?” she whispered.

“In a fashion.” He held her gaze. “So don’t ever decide to throw yourself on his mercy. You pose almost as much of a threat as she did.”

She shook her head doubtfully.

“God’s blood,
listen
to me.”

“All this talk of power and threats is without point. I have no claim to the throne.”

“Elizabeth now rules England, yet the Catholics
said she was illegitimate and had no claim to the throne because Henry broke from Rome for her mother, Anne Boleyn. Ambitious men twist facts to suit themselves and are ever looking for pawns to get what they want.”

“I’m not a pawn.”

“Not now, and if you wish to remain that way, stay away from James and my dear cousin Alec Malcolm and the pope and half the nobles in Scotland. Oh, and Philip of Spain.” He shook his head. “Shall I go on? I could, you know.”

“Well, I have nothing to worry about at the moment.” She glanced away from him. “And I do think you’re wrong. If I do not choose to be a pawn, then no one can make me one.”

“Don’t be too sure.”

“I am sure.” But she was becoming uneasy with all this talk of pawns and conquests. He was becoming impatient, and she could now sense something violent and angry leashed beneath the surface. She wanted to go back to that moment when she had felt so safe and happy as he had tucked the blanket around her. She settled down and leaned her cheek on her arm. “I refuse to worry about something that will not come to pass.”

“I hope to God it won’t come to pass,” he said. “But you won’t prevent it from happening by hiding your eyes from the truth.” He stared at her and then muttered savagely, “But I forgot, you make a habit of not seeing what you don’t want to see.”

She inhaled sharply, her eyes wide with shock. The explosion had caught her completely off guard, as if a tiger had leapt out of the shadows.

“I believe it’s time, we all went to sleep,” Gavin interjected. “We should reach the foothills tomorrow, and the going will be much rougher. Have you not finished that girth, Robert?”

Robert didn’t answer.

Gavin took one look at his face and then shrugged. “Well I, for one, am too weary to hold my eyes open
for another moment.” He glanced meaningfully at Kate as he settled down in his blankets. “I’m sure you feel the same, Kate. Good night.”

“Good night.” Robert’s gaze shifted back to the girth in his hands.

Kate watched him. The tiger had returned to the shadows, but she was painfully aware he was drawing away from her, from both of them. Everything was suddenly different. It was as if he had withdrawn to a place she could not go, and she wanted to reach out and jerk him back. “I’m right, you know. All this talk of—”

“Good night, Kate,” Robert said without looking at her.

The note of finality in his voice was almost as painful as his withdrawal and frightened her more. It wasn’t final, she assured herself. She would just ignore this little contretemps, and tomorrow would be the same as the days that had gone before.

The slopes of the distant mountains were not yet shimmering with snow, but they loomed stark and forbidding in the moonlight, and this afternoon Robert had noticed that the sky had turned the nasty pewter color that heralded a storm.

That’s all we needed, Robert thought in exasperation. Snow and ice would make the rough trail through the mountains even more treacherous.

“It may not be so bad,” Gavin said quietly as he came to stand beside Robert on the rise. “We’re only in the foothills. The snow may be over before we reach the slopes.”

“But not the ice.”

“It will just take us a little longer.”

Dammit, he didn’t need any more delays. He needed to get to Craighdhu before he splintered into a thousand pieces. “Aye.”

Gavin shot him a sideways glance. “You’re worried about the piebald?”

“He’s laboring.”

“We can’t push any harder. It would break her heart if anything happened to him.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Robert said savagely. “We should never have brought him.”

“But he’s here.”

“And so it’s my fault, my responsibility.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to say it.” It was always his responsibility. Craighdhu and his people and now Kate and this Goddamn horse. He whirled and started back down the hill toward the campfire.

Gavin fell into step with him. “What are you going to do?”

“What am I supposed to do? Carry the nag over the mountains?”

“You don’t have to bite at me.” He paused. “Or Kate.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re making her miserable. She was so happy a few days ago. It was as if she were …” He stopped to find the right word. “Blooming. She doesn’t understand why you’re different now.”

He knew she didn’t understand. He had seen her unhappiness and bewilderment, and it flicked at him like a raw wound, the kind of dangerous pinprick a man can die of without knowing he’d received it. Yet what else could he do? He should have drawn back before this. He had already yielded too much to her. “She doesn’t want to understand.”

“Maybe it would be better if you did bed her, if it would rid you of this bad temper. You’re hurting the lass.”

“I’m glad I have your permission.”

“I know you don’t like me to speak to you of this.” Gavin’s jaw was set. “But I like her, and there’s no need for her to be hurt more by your coldness.”

Coldness wasn’t the problem, he thought grimly.
He had never been more hot and aching. The frustration was growing every second of the day, and she still expected him to give her the impossible. “You’re right, I don’t want you to talk of this.”

“Well, you’re to be kind to her tonight,” Gavin said flatly. “I’ve spent the past hour trying to raise her spirits, and it won’t hurt you to smile at her.”

But if he smiled at her, she would smile back. She would smile with an eagerness and trust that tied him in knots and kept him from breaking free of her.

They were approaching the fire now and Kate, who sat cross-legged on a blanket in front of it. Gavin said quickly, “And praise her. Tell her how—”

Robert no longer heard Gavin’s words as he stared in horror at Kate.

Firelight glittered on metal as three knives whirled in a circle above Kate’s head!

“What the hell is she—”

“Shh …” Gavin grabbed his arm, his gaze never leaving the knives Kate was juggling. “Don’t startle her. Is it not wondrous?”

“It will be wondrous if she doesn’t kill herself.” Any second one of those dirks could fall blade first into Kate’s hand, cutting it to the bone. He knew how sharp those edges were. “Why the hell did you let her do it?”

“I thought it would distract her,” Gavin said. “She said she had a trick she could show me. I don’t think you need to worry. She seems to know what she’s doing.”

Robert felt as if he were going to throw up. “Not worry? When she—” He broke off as Kate sent one dirk spinning into the dirt a few yards away and then deftly caught the other two by their shafts.

Thank the Saints, it was over.

She laughed with delight as she noticed them standing there. “They’re fine knives, Gavin. It’s not often that you find such well-balanced—” She broke off as she saw Robert’s expression and drew herself up warily.
“You don’t need to look at me like that. I didn’t hurt them.”

“I’ve never seen such foolishness. You could have sliced your hand off.”

“Nonsense. A knife is no different from any other object, if balanced correctly.”

“And you know how to balance—”

“Of course she does,” Gavin interrupted with a warning glance at Robert. “Such a pretty trick, Kate. Where did you learn to do it?”

Kate kept her cautious stare on Robert. “A troop of strolling players passed through our village every year. Carolyn and I would hide in the woods and watch them practice.” She smiled. “Acrobats and rope walkers, and there was a juggler who was truly wonderful. His name was Jonathan the Great, and he could keep five bright-colored balls in the air at one time. After they were gone, Carolyn and I practiced to learn the way of it. She soon grew bored, but I kept on with it for years. I had no balls, but I used apples and potatoes.”

“And may I ask why you were so determined?” Robert asked sarcastically. “Or was it just your damnable curiosity?”

“No of course not. I thought when I ran away from Sebastian, I might join a troop of strolling players.”

“As a juggler?”

She raised her chin defiantly. “Why not? It’s not such a foolish idea. I knew I’d have to earn my way in some fashion if I was to hide from Sebastian. I’m not so bad now, and with more time to practice I would have gotten better. It was not—”

“God’s blood.” She didn’t even realize the dangers of the life of strolling players, who were nearly always surrounded by whores and thieves and charlatans. Dammit, she didn’t know anything. She just stared at him with those huge, luminous eyes filled with eagerness and dreams and expected him to—