The Ghost Read online

  He held up his hand to stop her. “Don’t bother arguing. Your husband already has a sword out there with my name on it, I will not give him another. And it would be deserved if I let you walk out of here alone. How the hell did you get in here anyway?”

  From the way she blushed, he figured he wasn’t going to like it.

  He didn’t. He exploded again. “You came in with some of the women from town? You mean some of the whores who make their rounds in the barracks?” He raked his fingers through his hair. This was just getting worse and worse. “And what if one of the men was ‘interested’?”

  “I just pretended to be with the women to get through the gate, and I have men waiting for me nearby.”

  Alex made a sound that was more of a snort. “As if they would have been any good to you in here.”

  “If you take me to them when I am done, they will see me safely back.”

  He started to ask back to where, but stopped himself. She must have understood why. When their eyes met, he could see the sadness in the realization that they were on opposite sides now.

  He nodded. He would be able to return her to Boyd’s men without too much of a detour from the route he would take with his men to Hailes.

  “Now, tell me about this woman you are to marry. Do you love her?”

  He winced, suspecting he was the one blushing now. “Christ, what a thing to ask, Rosalin.”

  “You do!” she exclaimed happily, throwing her arms around him again. “Oh, Alex, I’m so happy for you. Does she love you? Of course, she must. You are one of the most wonderful men I know. The quintessential perfect, handsome knight. Sir Galahad to the rescue,” she said with a laugh.

  Not her, too? Is that what everyone thought of him? Christ, how embarrassing. Not to mention untrue. It made him feel like some kind of fraud.

  He extracted himself, uncomfortably going back to the question. Did he love her? He’d never put words on it, but aye, he did. And did she feel the same about him? He didn’t know. She liked him, which was enough for now. “It wasn’t like that.”

  “It was arranged by the families?”

  “Not exactly.” More like it was arranged by him and ordered by the king.

  She stared at him for a long time. “No . . . you didn’t?” She laughed, clapping her hands. “You did! I can’t believe it. Maybe not Sir Galahad after all.”

  Now he was really uncomfortable. How the hell had she guessed? Did he have debaucher of innocents—he stopped, not letting himself think about that—branded on his forehead? “Let’s just say I have a little more sympathy for your husband.”

  Though he said it lightly, the sentiments behind it were not. She knew the reasons for his leaving, including what he thought had been Boyd taking advantage of her when she was their hostage. Boyd had been wrong. But Alex had been wrong to think that forgetting his honor in the arms of a woman he loved was a sin that would never be laid at his feet. A sin that might be more complicated than it first appeared.

  She put her hand on his arm. “I feel to blame for what happened. It wasn’t his fault, Alex. I know you thought it was, but I wanted what happened as much as he did. I loved him to distraction. I still do. It was everything else I thought I couldn’t live with.”

  Alex shook his head. “It wasn’t you. As I told you then, it had been a long time in the working.”

  “But I know how hard it was for you. I was there—I saw what you were going through. I know Robbie is sorry for some of the things he did and wishes it could have been different.”

  “I very much doubt that,” Alex said dryly.

  “He does. You were like a brother to him, though he was too blinded by anger and vengeance to admit it. Maybe . . . do you ever think about going back?”

  He wished he could say no. But he couldn’t lie to himself. Every day he thought of what he’d given up. The challenges. The danger. The feeling as if he was part of something important. The camaraderie. Aye, most of all that. The Guardsmen had been the closest friends he’d ever had—even if it hadn’t always felt like that. Walking away from them had been like walking away from part of himself. But he’d had to do it. He couldn’t keep doing what he was doing. He just hoped to hell that in the end it would all be worth it.

  “It hasn’t been the same—Robbie hasn’t been the same—since you left,” she said, guessing his thoughts. “They need you, Alex.”

  Alex shook his head; she was wrong. “I saw them not long ago.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “When?”

  He explained what had happened with the little girl and how he’d been surrounded. “They let me go, but your husband was very clear about what would happen the next time we met.” He shook his head. “Nay, there is no going back.”

  “You are sure?”

  He smiled; that was the second time he’d been asked that today. “I am.”

  “I suppose it would be difficult to explain to your new wife,” Rosalin said with a smile that was just as sad as his. “She is probably from some illustrious English family.”

  Alex grimaced. He hadn’t been holding back her name intentionally, but he hadn’t volunteered it either. “Not exactly.”

  She lifted a brow. When he finally said her name, Rosalin gasped. Then she paled. “Bella’s daughter? I knew she looked familiar. Good God, Alex, you can’t marry her! It isn’t my husband’s sword you will need to worry about, it’s Lachlan’s dagger. He’ll kill you when he finds out.”

  It wasn’t the first time the thought had occurred to him. “Why should MacRuairi care? He barely knows her.”

  An odd look crossed her face. “That won’t matter. She’s family, and he won’t have her—” She stopped, embarrassed.

  “Married to a traitor?” Alex said tightly.

  Roslin nodded apologetically.

  “Aye, well, we can’t always pick our relatives. I’m sure Boyd has expressed similar opinions.”

  She laughed at that. “Maybe once or twice.”

  “Let’s go find your brother. I wager he’s going to have something to say about this as well.”

  Alex was right. Initially Clifford was just as happy to see her as Alex had been, but when he realized what she’d done, he’d been even more furious.

  Alex left her with her brother with a promise to return in the morning and went in search of Joan.

  But for the first time, he wasn’t looking forward to it. He hoped Rosalin had been wrong that Joan had seen them. He didn’t want to lie to her, but neither could he risk anyone knowing about Rosalin’s presence in the castle.

  After fleeing the courtyard, Joan had returned to her room and was helping Alice remove the pins from her hair when Bess arrived with the message that Alex was waiting downstairs and had requested to see her.

  Alice waved Joan off. “Go, do not let your duties to me interfere. Besides, you have been as glum as a child staring in the window of a closed confectioner shop all evening. I hope it isn’t a lovers’ spat already?”

  Actually, it sounded as if she hoped exactly the opposite.

  “I’m tired,” Joan said. “That is all. But I should see what he wants.”

  “Don’t hurry back on my account,” Alice said, sounding very sorry for herself. “One of us should have some fun tonight. Henry is in another one of his meetings.”

  That was the kind of information Joan should be focusing on—not why Alex had his arms around Robbie Boyd’s wife.

  But she couldn’t get the image out of her mind. They’d looked so perfect together. The handsome, gallant knight and the beautiful “fair” maiden. With her blond hair, delicate complexion, and princess-perfect features, she looked to be in the first blush of womanhood and as innocent as an angel. It couldn’t have been more brutally—or cruelly—brought home to Joan that this was the kind of woman Alex was meant to wed. The perfect English rose. The Fair Rosalin.

  Once the initial stab of pain had relented, it hadn’t taken Joan long to recognize the woman reputed to be one of the most