Chapter Seven
Elizabeth’s senses reeled as her heartbeat increased. Robert’s mouth covered hers hungrily, swirling emotions that whispered her to abandon any inhibitions. She gave herself freely to the passion of his urgent, searching kiss, refusing to think of what it might mean. They had precious little time, and she wanted to know the feel of him, the taste, the touch of his tongue against hers. He was sweet like ripe berries, likely from the wine he’d drunk earlier.
Their tongues tangled and retreated, then came together again in a dance of seduction as old as time. But for her, it was the first kiss she had ever had, and it sent spirals of ecstasy through her. His sinfully warm and persuasive mouth inflamed her entire body. Even in an act as intimate as this was, Robert exuded power. Leaving her mouth burning with fire, he brushed slow, drugging kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, and then up the sensitive column of skin once more.
Her body tightened everywhere. She ached and throbbed for the touch of his mouth in places she had never dreamed of a man touching her. Pressed as she was against his hard body, she knew undeniably that he wanted her with the same reckless abandon that had a hold of her. He recaptured her lips, but this time, his kiss was slow, featherlight, and intimate, as if they had belonged to each other for a thousand years.
Maybe they were fated, and everything that had happened until this point in her life was to bring her to him. Her thoughts whirled and skidded in her head so that she could not concentrate. He gave her one last long kiss and drew a moan from her lips as he broke contact. He gazed at her, his brown eyes almost amber now and so compelling and magnetic she felt a physical pull in the pit of her stomach.
“Ye named yer horse Saorsa,” he said, his voice a mixture of pride and awe.
It was not a question but a statement. “Yes.”
It was hard to think beyond the fact that he was so near she could see his dark whiskers growing from his face, feel the heavy weight of his well-formed muscles pressed against her, and the heat of his body warming her. She finally forced herself to focus. “My father gave her to me to keep here right before I defied him with the Moray men. After that, he forbade me from riding her, which he knew I dearly loved, and forbade me from bringing her back to Ireland. I was forced to ride in a conveyance instead of with her. I felt confined and captive, and I imagined it had to be how you felt, how most Scots feel under King Edward’s rule.”
“Ye want us Scots to win our freedom,” he said, an expression of satisfaction clear in his eyes.
His response answered her biggest question: Robert may have said he was here to bend the knee, but she did not doubt now that he wasn’t. He had not trusted her enough to tell her the truth, just as she had not trusted him enough to tell him why she was acquiescing to her father and the king’s horrid plan. She wanted so very much to confide in him, but she feared doing so.
“You are not here to submit,” she hedged.
His face revealed nothing, not that she had expected him to just admit to it. He sat up and leaned back on his palms. “Ye did nae respond to my comment.”
“You did not respond to mine,” she countered, her heart thundering.
“I spoke first,” he said, his smile devilish and tone smug. “So as a matter of etiquette, ye should respond first.”
She laughed. She could not help it. It was amusing to hear Robert, a hardened warrior, speak of etiquette.
“Ye laugh at me?” he demanded, yet the smile turning up his lips revealed he was amused, as well.
“I do. To hear you speak of things such as etiquette, well…” She shrugged.
A serious look settled on his face. “Ye forget I come from great wealth, and etiquette was what my mother gave instead of her affection.”
Her humor vanished. It felt as if he was leading her to ask him what she wished to know. “I do not forget,” she said quietly. “I hear you are most anxious to retrieve all your land, titles, and coin again. I’m told you desire the wealthiest wife you can secure.”
“Ye should nae waste yer time listening to rumors,” he said, his voice suddenly hard and his eyes now like shiny black stones.
Hope sent warmth surging through her. “I’ll not,” she assured him. “Now that I know the rumors to be false.” Her stomach clenched at what she was about to say, but she knew this might be her only moment for truth. “When I ride Saorsa, I get an indescribable feeling of freedom, and all I want is to have that freedom once more. And I want—” Her throat was suddenly so dry she had to swallow. “I want your people to have it, as well.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said, his eyes searching her face and seeming to reach into her thoughts. “That’s what I want, too. Freedom for myself, my people, and ye.”
She believed him. She didn’t know whether that made her foolish or not, but she could neither change how she felt in this moment nor deny it. “You will not gain that freedom by submitting to my godfather’s will.”
Disdain curled his lips. “I know it well, Elizabeth, yet sometimes to achieve a great victory one must sacrifice much.”
She wasn’t sure exactly what he meant by that. Did he mean he would temporarily bend the knee to gain an ultimate victory? She opened her mouth to ask him, but he spoke again. “What do ye gain by yer submission to King Edward and yer father?”
“My cousin’s life,” she whispered, her cheeks heating with shame that she had relented to such a horrid plot against Robert.
His jaw clenched suddenly. “They took yer cousin?”
She nodded, too emotional to speak.
“The one from the woods that day in Ireland? The one who was going to flee with ye?”
“Yes,” she choked out, her throat horribly tight.
His nostrils flared, and he growled. “I assume ye are to seduce me to learn my secrets so they can either control me or destroy me.”
Guilt and shame blanketed her. When he said what she was to do aloud, it sounded even more horrid. “The king and my father wish to know for certain if you are truly here to bend the knee. I was told to discover that, as well as any other secrets you might let slip in…in—” God above, how could she say what she needed to? Her face, neck, and chest felt on fire.
“In what?” he asked, his stare withering.
She stiffened. He had every right to be angry. “In the throes of passion.” She turned her face away and staring toward the woods. “I’m sorry,” she managed. “So very sorry.”
“Look at me,” he said, and it was his beseeching tone that caused her to turn her face to his once more. He surveyed her with such unexpected tenderness that she heard herself exhale some of her tension. “Ye do nae need to be sorry, lass. Ye wish to save yer cousin.”
“Yes,” she replied, near trembling with relief. “My father threatened to kill her if I did not do as he ordered, and the king threated to allow her to be ravaged by one of the guards. I did not want to seduce you!”
He smirked suddenly. “Ye are nae good for my pride, Elizabeth.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh! I did not mean—That is to say, I, well, it’s not that I do not find you pleasing,” she mumbled, embarrassed.
His warm touch startled her. She looked down at her hands in his rough ones. Robert was no pampered noble. Every inch of the man was a hardened warrior, from his calloused hands, to his chiseled body, to his calculating mind. He slowly brought her fingertips to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to them one by one. Heat pooled in her belly, and her fingertips tingled from his touch. “It’s heartening to know I don’t disgust ye.”
“You tease me,” she said, her blood roaring in her ears.
“Aye.” He released her hand and brushed her hair away from her face.
The touch seemed so familiar, so natural, so right. What if there could be a future for them? The errant thought shocked her. She needed to worry about freeing Lillianna above any concerns of the heart. She took a deep breath. “I must ask for your help, though I presume much doing so and I know I have no right.”
“But ye do, lass,” he said with a smile.
She frowned. “I do?”
“Aye. Ye aided me long ago with the Moray men, and I will now return the favor.”
“You will risk much by aiding me,” she warned.
His gaze held her steady and made her overly warm and slightly dizzy. “I would risk my honor by nae aiding ye, and that I can nae risk. It may be all I have in the end.”
“Then you would be the greatest of men to me.” The sensuous look he gave her made her tremble. She bit her lip on the desire to ask him if honor and his sense of duty to repay her were the only reasons he would aid her. “My cousin, Lillianna, is being kept in the dungeon. My father will not release her unless he believes I am making progress with you. Only then will he set her free. He will keep her guarded, though. Do you know of anyone who could help her escape if my father does release her from the dungeon?”
“Aye.” Before he could say more, the distinct sound of thundering hooves echoed to her ears, and by Robert’s actions, she knew he’d heard them, too. He whisked her to her feet, closed the distance between him and her horse, snatched the horn from the hook on the horse’s saddle, and blew it loud and clear.
The sound had not even ceased to rumble in her ears before her father, the king, and the huntsman galloped from the woods led by a pack of snipping, growling dogs. They raced toward Robert and her, teeth bared. Before she knew what was occurring, Robert was by her side, and then she was behind him, as he had placed himself between her and the vicious Alaunts. They came so near she could see the foam dripping in jagged lines from their jaws. Robert reached behind him with one arm and grasped her to pull her near, and with the other, he withdrew a dagger from a holder at his waist.
“Tell yer hellhounds to hold,” Robert said, directing his attention to the hunt master.
The dogs growled and snarled, now situated between Elizabeth and Robert, and the dead boar.
“Stand down!” the hunt master ordered, and the dogs immediately retreated to his side.
The king and her father drew their horses up to the boar. The king eyed the beast as her father eyed her. The proud look he gave her turned her belly as soured milk would have. Her father believed she had successfully begun the process of seducing Robert. He’d expect secrets soon.
“Bruce, congratulations on killing the boar,” the king said, his tone begrudging. Her godfather did not like to lose at anything, not a hunt nor a fight for a country that was not his to rule.
When Robert released his grip on her hip, Elizabeth startled. She’d not even realized he had been holding her so firmly and intimately. His protective touch on her felt perfectly natural. He shocked her yet again when he caught her fingers with his and tugged her gently forward to his side.
He had an easy smile on his face, but at the side of his temple—where only she could see from where she stood—he had a tic, as if inside he was repressing a tempest. “Elizabeth helped me kill the boar.” He glanced down at her then, his eyes shining with adoration.
Her mouth parted in shock, and gratitude swelled within her. He would make them think she was seducing him! The risk he was taking for her made her heart pound an erratic rhythm. She felt connected to him, as though there were an invisible bond suddenly between them. Perhaps there was: freedom. They both desired it for themselves and others.
“Yer goddaughter,” Robert said, looking to the king, “and yer daughter,” he added, focusing on her father, “is most skilled in the art of securing her prey. I wonder, would it be possible to stroll with Elizabeth in the gardens tonight after supper?”
“Anything is possible, Bruce,” the king said, looking triumphant. “You but have to ask, and you shall receive all that is mine to give.”
He stepped forward and slung an arm around Robert’s shoulders, which effectively pulled him away from her. “Come, Bruce. Let us ride back side by side. Elizabeth’s father can accompany her.”
Robert’s eyes locked with hers for a breath as he mounted his horse, his expression unreadable. Her father stepped to her side as the king and Robert rode away, and the hunt master moved around them to ready the boar to take back to the castle.
“You have the look of a woman besotted,” her father accused.
She gritted her teeth as she met his gaze. “Is that not how you and King Edward wanted me to appear?”
Her father narrowed his eyes upon her. “To Bruce, yes. Don’t forget where your loyalties lie, Elizabeth.”
“How could I?” she asked, thinking of Robert and Lillianna, not her father. “Will you release Lillianna from the dungeon now?”
“I suppose,” her father said with a twisted smile. “If the king agrees. But if she is released, I will keep her well guarded.”
“Of course,” Elizabeth said in as pleasing a voice as she could manage with the anger coursing through her. Her father narrowed his eyes. She drew in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, Father. I do not like having to seduce Bruce. I never expected such a thing for my life.” That was the absolute truth. She wished she and Robert had met and become acquainted as simply a man and a woman who were attracted to each other.
“Don’t fret so,” her father chided. “The king may marry you to Bruce, but you can always take a lover.” She hissed in a breath, which caused her father to frown at her. “If you fail Edward,” her father continued in a harsh tone, “he will bring his wrath upon you, and if you ever think to flee, Bruce will pay accordingly. Do you understand me?”
It was a threat and not a veiled one. They wanted her to seduce Robert, not fall in love with him. They wanted her to pledge her hand to him but her loyalty to them. They would have her join with him in one breath and spy on him in another. Her life was at risk. Her liberty was at risk. And she feared, after that kiss, that her heart may well be at risk, as well.
“Did I nae tell ye to keep yer wits about ye?” Angus growled at Robert after he finished telling him that he was going to aid Elizabeth. Angus paused two steps below Robert on the stairs that led down to the main keep and his friend turned to look at him. Shadows danced across Angus’s face as darkness slowly crept across the sky.
Robert scrubbed a hand across his face. “I kept my wits about me,” he said through clenched teeth. “Did ye nae hear what I said?”
Angus glanced up and down the long staircase, as did Robert. They were still alone. This was the first moment Robert had been able to seek his friend out. Thankfully, he had happened to locate Angus on his way to the great hall for the celebration of the killing of the boar. “Oh aye, I heard ye,” Angus said, sarcasm dripping from his tone. “Ye’re thinking with yer head, but it’s nae the one upon yer shoulders.”
Robert flinched. Could that be? He did not think so. Yes, he desired Elizabeth greatly, but every instinct he possessed told him she had a good heart and was being truthful. “I’m nae. I vow it.”
“Och!” Angus waved a hand at him. “I ken a man gripped by lust when I see him. Do ye deny it?”
It irked Robert something fierce that he could not. “I desire her, but I’m nae a fool.”
“Of course ye’re a fool!” Angus whispered fiercely. “Every man is a fool when it comes to the lasses. They’re like ban-druidh! They bewitch us, and it is all we can do to maintain our senses. Ye must stay focused, Robbie.” Angus eyed him like a father would a stubborn child. “Scotland’s freedom is at stake.”
“I have nae lost my focus,” Robert growled. “But I will aid her.” He heard the finality in his own voice.
“How the hell will ye aid her to free her cousin? Ye will get yerself killed! And me, as well! And I kinnae allow myself to die. My clan and my brothers and sisters depend on me.”
“I know,” Robert agreed, fully understanding the weight of responsibility Angus felt for all those who counted on him, especially his younger siblings. Robert felt the pull of the same responsibility from his own siblings. “It’s simple, and I’ve already started the ploy. If her father thinks she is making progress seducing me, he will free her cousin. Once that occurs, ye will take her cousin away from here—somewhere she will be safe. Mayhap yer clan?”
“The devil I will! Ye are succumbing to their plot without even realizing it.” Angus shook his head. “I’ll nae leave ye here alone when the spider already has lured ye into its web.”
“Elizabeth is nae a spider,” Robert said, his frustration mounting even further.
“God’s teeth!” Angus groused, grabbing at his chest. “Already she has ye blinded by her beauty. The king picked her purposely—dunnae be mistaken. He kenned it would take a special lass to capture ye. Think, man,” he pleaded. “If ye were to fall deep into the lass’s charms and wish to wed her, the king would have a spy in yer bed for the rest of yer life. Whether Scotland gains freedom or nae, ye would nae ever be free. The people would nae accept her. If the time comes that ye are to be king, ye need the people to love yer queen, nae mistrust her.”
“Ye have me wed before I have barely spent any time with the lass, Angus,” Robert snapped. “But if that did come to pass, the people would accept her because her honor and loyalty would be undeniable.”
Angus’s answer was a groan. “Ye’re already hopeless.”