The Viper (22 page)

Her words flayed; he felt as if layer upon layer of skin were being stripped away. Every day for two years he'd thought of nothing else. She couldn't blame him any more than he blamed himself. But although he accepted his responsibility for what had happened, he hadn't betrayed her. "I was the payment of debt, Bella, not you. Ross meant to kill me, and would have done so had I not escaped. Gordon told me what Ross said, and what you thought, but I was in chains. He tried to tell you as you were being taken away."

A soft cry escaped from her lips. "William is alive?"

"Aye, as is MacKay. They were imprisoned, but we were able to free them before they were killed."

"We?"

He shrugged carelessly to cover the slip. "A few of Bruce's guardsmen." He left it at that. She knew nothing of the Highland Guard, and he intended to keep it that way. Even were he inclined to break his vow of secrecy--which he wasn't--her life was in enough danger as it was. Knowledge like that could get her tortured. A fact of which he was well aware.

For a moment, the hint of a smile softened her expression. "I'm glad," she said. "Margaret was unable to find out anything, and I thought ..." Her voice dropped off as she turned to stare back out the window into the sunset.

She thought Gordon and MacKay had suffered a similar fate to those of the Earl of Atholl and Nigel Bruce.

She drew a deep breath, as if trying to get herself under control. When she turned back to him, her face was expressionless. "Very well, you've said your peace, now leave."

A sound at the door drew his attention. Probably the guard wondering what was taking so long. "Damn it, Bella, we don't have much time. I swear I'll explain everything to you when I get you out of here."

She drew back as if scalded. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

Thinking that she still didn't believe him, he pulled the ring off his finger and handed it to her. He'd hoped to be able to convince her on his own but hadn't wanted to take any chances. "Here," he said. "Proof that the king has sent me. He said you would recognize it."

She handed it back to him with barely a glance. "I care not how much Robert is paying you to rescue me, or whether you are speaking the truth. I have no wish to be rescued by you or anyone else."

Lachlan couldn't believe it. Two hellish years fighting to get here, and she didn't want to leave? Was this some kind of bad joke?

He took an intimidating step closer.

She stood her ground, staring up at him with those big blue eyes flashing their challenge. Blood pounded in his ears. The temper he'd been struggling to hold flared. His hands itched to circle her arms and shake some bloody sense into her.

If he thought he could do so without kissing her, he might do just that. But he didn't trust himself to touch her. Not the way he was feeling right now. He was too raw, too frustrated, and too damned aware of her. He was trying to be patient and gentle, but while he might be dressed like a priest, he sure as hell wasn't a saint.

Pushed to the end of his rope, he leaned even closer. He admitted he took too much pleasure in the little hitch of breath and widening of her eyes. She might hate him, but she still was aware of him. He reached out his hand, when suddenly the door behind them opened.

Bella was grateful for the interruption when it came. Being alone with Lachlan MacRuairi had never been easy, and what he'd just told her had left her feeling as if she'd just taken her first steps on land after being at sea for years.

She'd never thought to see him again. She'd put him behind her. Hardly thought of him at all. She bit her lip. At least not as much as she used to. The sharp twinge in her chest had dulled to a pang. He'd become one more regret of an unpleasant past she had no wish to remember.

But part of her had always wondered what she would do if she ever saw him again. Would she stick a dagger in his back as he'd done to her? Curse him to the devil who spawned him? Hit him? Cry? Fall to her knees and beg him to tell her why?

She hadn't expected the hurt, the knife of pain that stabbed through her chest at the first sight of him, or the rush of churning emotions that swirled inside her, making her feel as if she were going to be ill.

Then, for one treacherous heartbeat, she'd felt something else. She'd looked into the face that had only grown harder, meaner, and even more sinfully handsome over the years, and felt a tug of longing so strong it stole her breath.

He'd cut his hair, she realized, but everything else was painfully familiar. She'd gazed upon that strong jaw, those eerily bright green eyes, the dangerously sensual mouth, and remembered exactly how it had felt on hers. How he could make her weak with pleasure and desperate for more.

She hated him for reminding her. For confusing her. For making her want to believe him. In her weaker moments, part of her had wondered if she'd been wrong. Maybe he hadn't betrayed her. Robert's ring seemed some proof that he might be telling the truth.

Why did he have to come now? For two years she'd prayed for someone to release her from her cruel prison. But even if she believed his story, even if she would dare to risk putting her life in his hands once more, she couldn't go. Not while there was a threat to her daughter.

Shame coursed through her as tears welled in her eyes. She'd be damned if she'd let him see her cry. Damned if she'd let him see her torment and know how desperately she longed for escape. She wouldn't let him see how close she was to falling apart.

Struggling for composure, Bella was relieved when the door opened and Margaret entered the room. It gave her the moment she needed to collect herself.

She forced a deep breath through her lungs, exhaling slowly to calm the emotions fluttering too close to the surface. For a moment she'd actually thought he meant to kiss her. But she'd never been much good at reading him, and after two years' separation he was a virtual stranger to her.

Except he wasn't.

The guard stood behind Margaret as her cousin entered the room. "Are you finished?"

Lachlan answered before she could. "Almost. Just a few more minutes."

Bella felt the ridiculous urge to laugh at his affected tone. Was that supposed to be priestly? He didn't have a pious bone in his body. Even with the hood thrown back over his head, and his attempt to slouch and appear unthreatening, Lachlan MacRuairi looked every inch the battle-hard brute. A man of undeniable and daunting physicality. Perversely, it was one of the things that had attracted her.

Margaret stopped in her tracks. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to interrupt. I can wait--"

"Nay!" Bella said, not giving Lachlan the opportunity to agree. She didn't want to be alone with him. "As the good father said, we are almost done."

Margaret looked back and forth between her and the "priest," a puzzled frown wrinkling her brow. "All right."

Bella feared the guard had noticed her jumpiness. He gave her a hard look. She forced a serene expression and met his gaze unflinchingly until he closed the door.

Lachlan tossed his hood back angrily. "What the hell do you think--"

Margaret's gasp stopped him.

He cursed under his breath, shooting Bella a glare as if it were somehow her fault he'd forgotten, and then turned to her cousin. "Lady Margaret," he whispered with a short nod. "I'm sorry to startle you. I've come to get your cousin out of here, only it seems she's refusing to go."

Margaret turned her surprise to Bella. "What's this, Bella? Of course you must go. If there is a chance to be free--"

Bella shook her head. "I can't."

Margaret looked to Lachlan as if she hadn't spoken. Bella owed her cousin so much. For two years she'd stood by her side, braving the horrible castle every day to attend her, keep her company, and bring her what news she could of the outside world. But Margaret's ready alliance with Lachlan--in the face of everything he'd done to them, or they thought he'd done to them--felt like a betrayal. "What is your plan?" Margaret asked him. "How can you sneak her out of the tower?"

"Not the tower," he said. "Tomorrow, on the road. You will be traveling with the countess?"

Margaret nodded, and Bella didn't bother to correct him about her title.

"Good," he said. "My men and I will attack your carriage, in the forest on the outskirts of town. I need you to be ready. Do not come out until it is over. I don't want either of you to be harmed."

Bella told herself not to listen. It would only make it harder. But her heartbeat quickened.

"What if something goes wrong?" Margaret said. "The constable will have us well guarded."

"You've nothing to fear, my lady. My men will take care of the soldiers. An entire army would not stand in our way."

Maybe not, but she would. "I'm not going," Bella said resolutely.

"But why not?" Margaret said, confused. "Do you wish to take the veil?"

"The veil?" Lachlan asked.

Margaret nodded. "They are forcing her to take the veil."

He swore.

Bella shook her head, scared that if she tried to speak, the tears closing her throat would break free.

"Then why not?" Margaret asked.

Lachlan's mouth thinned. "Your cousin doesn't trust me." He pulled Robert's ring out of the leather bag around his waist. "I brought proof that the king sent me, but it will not persuade her."

That wasn't the reason. But he was right: she didn't trust him.

Margaret turned the ring between her fingers and looked over to Bella. "This is the king's ring, cousin. Surely you remember it? What other reason could Lachlan have to be here? Surely it is worth the chance? You might not get another."

Bella's firmly set chin started to tremble. God, didn't she think she knew that? No force of will could keep the tears from misting her eyes. She could fight one of them, but not two. She fell to the chair, her legs suddenly too weak. "I can't," she said hoarsely.

Sensing her distress, Margaret rushed to her side. Taking her hand, she fell to her knees. "What is it?"

"Joan," she said softly, tears sliding down her cheeks. "They'll hurt Joan."

Briefly, she explained Simon's threats against her daughter and the enticement of contact if she agreed to take the veil.

She tried to ignore Lachlan, but she could feel his eyes on her. "Bastards," he muttered angrily.

She glanced up at him. Surprised by the sympathy in his gaze, she nodded. "Aye."

Margaret squeezed her hand. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Bella shrugged. "There was nothing you could do. I didn't want to worry you."

"We'll find a way to protect your daughter," Lachlan said. "No harm will come to her."

Ice ran down her spine. "I'll not risk it. What if you could not reach her in time? Look what they did to me. What they did to Mary. Do you think they will stop at harming another child?" She shook her head resolutely. "Nay, this will be for the best. My daughter has suffered enough. I will not see her harmed for my sake. It's a convent, not a prison. Perhaps I shall come to find peace with the nuns."

They both gaped at her. She lowered her eyes, unable to meet their gazes.

"Damn it, Bella, you aren't thinking straight. I swear to you the girl will be taken care of. I won't let anything happen to her."

She lifted her gaze to his. "I seem to recall you saying something similar to me before."

He flinched. She didn't think him capable of it, but apparently time had given him the vestiges of a conscience. His mouth fell in a tight white line. She could tell by the way his fists clenched and muscles flared that he was holding himself back. Clearly he wanted to say something--yell at her, probably--but he appeared determined to control himself.

Had the brigand learned some civility? Perhaps he'd changed more than she realized.

Margaret, who'd been pacing back and forth during the exchange, stopped. "I think I may have a solution."

Bella didn't allow herself to hope. She was cornered, with no way out.

"I will go in your place."

Bella's gaze shot to her cousin's. "No! Absolutely not! I won't let you sacrifice yourself for me."

Margaret smiled. "It's no sacrifice. It's what I have always wished. I was planning to enter the convent with you anyway. I shall simply take your place."

"Forever?" Bella asked. "For that is what this will be."

Margaret nodded. "I will not change my mind. This is what I want."

Bella tried to force her heartbeat to stop racing, telling herself it was impossible. "It won't work. We can't risk discovery."

"It will work," Margaret said. "We are of similar height and size." She looked to Lachlan for support. "And I think not too dissimilar in appearance?"

He looked back and forth between them as if he'd never considered it. Why did the fact that he'd never noticed the marked likeness between them make her feel worse? If she didn't compare to her cousin's ethereal beauty before, she certainly didn't now.

Bella hadn't missed the shock in his eyes when he'd first seen her. If she'd wondered what toll her imprisonment had taken on her, now she knew. She told herself it didn't matter. Beauty had never been important to her; indeed it had seemed more a curse. But the squeeze in her chest told her she was not without vanity.

"Nay, not too dissimilar. The countess's hair is a little lighter, and her eyes are blue whereas yours are green, but with a veil, and to people who do not know you ..."

Margaret clapped her hands. "You see, it can work."

Bella gave Lachlan an angry look for encouraging her cousin, for encouraging them both. This was hard enough, and they were only making it harder.

But was it possible ...?

"We would have to change our plans a bit," Lachlan said, considering. "Arrange an accident on the road as opposed to a direct attack. We'll create a distraction and make the switch in the confusion." He gazed at Margaret. "You would have to find an excuse not to accompany Bella. But it could be done."

Oh, God. She felt the unmistakable rush of hope rising inside her. Could this actually work?

It could. She didn't know anyone at the convent. If they could make the switch without the constable's men knowing ...