The Viper Read online

  The words had an ominous lilt, but she knew it meant nothing. She stiffened, forcing a coolness to her voice. “That won’t be necessary. I don’t believe we have anything left to say.”

  She didn’t want to talk to him. It hurt too much to even look at him. She might do something foolish, such as beg.

  He gave her a long look, the muscle pulsing in his jaw. Then without another word he was gone, a whiplash of hurt and longing trailing in his wake.

  Bella stared at the door for a moment, trying to fight the conflagration of emotions that had been unleashed inside her at the sight of him. The hurt was just as strong as it had been the night he walked away from her. She needed to put him behind her. That part of her life was over. Joan was all that mattered. Why was he doing this to her?

  “Bella?” Robert prodded gently.

  She startled, shaking off the smothering grip of melancholy. Her daughter needed her, and she wasn’t going to let Robert put her off any longer.

  For weeks, he’d avoided her questions about when she would be reunited with her daughter. The only time he’d discussed the subject was to bring her a letter passed on from Margaret, purporting to be from Joan. Her chest squeezed. The handwriting had looked like her daughter’s, but in her heart she knew the words could not have been hers. No further communication … Don’t try to contact me again … Stay where you are.

  The last seemed like a warning.

  She drew up her shoulders and looked the king square in the eye. “I need to go back to Berwick.”

  A frown gathered across his heavy brow. To his credit, he did not immediately refuse. “Why?”

  She held out the latest missive from Margaret. This one had been brought directly by her mother, who’d arrived just a few days ago after being made aware of Bella’s secret return. As happy as she was to see her mother, the news she’d brought had thrown her into a state of panic.

  “It’s from Margaret,” she explained. “Joan, her cousin, and her uncle, William Comyn, are traveling to Berwick to see ‘me’—Margaret—at the convent. They’ve been staying with Lady Isabel de Beaumont at Bamburgh Castle, and will travel to Berwick before returning south. You’ll see from the date that they are expected by the end of the week.”

  There wasn’t much time.

  Robert’s frown deepened. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he said, almost as if to himself.

  “Not if you believe the first missive.” Which Bella never had. “Something’s wrong.” She didn’t know how to explain it; she just felt it deep in her bones. Her daughter was in danger.

  Robert took the letter and scanned its contents. When he’d finished, he looked more perplexed than troubled. He dropped the letter on the table and gazed back up at her. “I know what you are thinking, but it’s impossible. You can’t risk going back to the convent.”

  “I have to,” she insisted. “If Joan arrives with her uncle, everyone will learn that I’ve escaped. William Comyn knows what I look like. Margaret won’t be able to fool him, and Joan’s life will be in danger.”

  Robert shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. Your daughter will not be harmed.”

  “You can’t be certain of that.”

  He paused, debating something, seeming to choose his words with care. “Joan is being watched.”

  Bella’s eyes widened. “By whom? Why have you not told me?”

  “I can’t say. You need to trust me. But I can assure you at the first sign of danger, I will know.”

  “But what if there is not time? What if they discover I am gone and decide to hurt Joan or throw her in prison immediately? I can’t let that happen.” She bent down, taking his hand to kneel beside him. “Please, Robert, if you will not help me get into that convent, then at least send some men to rescue her before the truth is discovered.”

  The king gave her a pained look. “I’m sorry, Bella, I wish I could help you, but it isn’t possible. Not right now at least. We are too close to winning Mary’s release; I can’t risk doing anything to upset it. Not without more information. But I swear to you, at the first hint of a problem, I will do everything I can to get your daughter back to you safely. Until then, you will have to be patient.”

  Stung, Bella stared at him, tears burning her eyes and throat. She did not doubt the sincerity in his voice, but his refusal, even if well motivated, felt like a betrayal. She didn’t want to listen to rational explanations. She just wanted her daughter back.

  “I’ve been patient for three years,” she said softly. It was a reminder—the only one she’d ever given him—of what she’d done for him.

  Sad eyes met hers. “I know better than anyone what you have sacrificed, Bella—and how hard it is to wait. There is not a day that goes by that I do not long for my wife, daughter, and sisters.” He squeezed her hand. “Just a little longer. This war can’t go on forever.”

  It sounded as if he were trying to convince himself as much as her.

  Bella nodded, but she knew she had to do something. Robert had a crown and country to think about, but she had only her daughter. If he wouldn’t help her, she would find someone who would. Someone who could get her in and out of that convent without being seen.

  Her stomach turned, knowing exactly who had the skills to do so. Lachlan. No doubt his ability to get in and out of places was what had made him so appealing to Bruce that he would be willing to pay him to fight in his elite group of warriors.

  The idea of lowering herself to ask him for anything after what had transpired between them went against every bone in her body. But she’d grit her teeth, swallow the bitter taste in her mouth, and do it. For her daughter she would set aside her pride. For her daughter she would sell her soul to the devil himself if need be.

  She only hoped it didn’t come to that.

  Lachlan MacRuairi was a mean drunk. As most of the time he figured he was mean enough already, he didn’t usually drown himself in a big jug of whisky.

  Tonight, however, he made an exception. Seeing Bella had unleashed all sorts of unwanted emotions, damn it, and he needed to get good and drunk not to think about it. She didn’t want to see him. Didn’t want to talk to him. Of course she didn’t. Her cold reaction was understandable. It was what he’d expected, wasn’t it? And it was sure as hell no less than he deserved.

  When the drink didn’t work, he turned to brawling. Drinking and fighting tended to go together.

  It was Gordon who finally dragged him away from the table before he could inflict too much damage. “Damn it, Viper, what the hell are you trying to do? Do you want all three of them to kill you? You even managed to rile Hawk’s temper.”

  “Must have lost his sense of humor along with his bollocks when he took a wife,” Lachlan mumbled. “All of ’em did.”

  Gordon pushed him outside into the cold night air. Winter was in full force, and the icy mist hit him with a sobering slap. Or maybe he just wasn’t as drunk as he wanted to be. He didn’t stumble, lurch, or weave as Gordon led him across the darkened barmkin toward the barracks. And damn it, his head was much too clear.

  He could see her in his mind, seated at the dais, not once glancing in his direction during the evening meal. Over. Done. The finality hit him in the gut, churning unmercifully. It was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it?

  Mistake.

  “Hell, if you talked about my wife like that, I don’t think I’d show nearly that much restraint.”

  Lachlan lifted a lazy brow in Gordon’s direction. “Haven’t reconsidered yet? Not much time left to escape the noose.”

  An odd look crossed the other man’s face before he shook it off with a smile. “Since my bride will be arriving any day, it’s a little too late for that.”

  Lachlan thought about saying something, but showing unusual restraint, he bit his tongue. If there was something between MacKay and Gordon’s intended, it wasn’t his problem. If MacKay was too stubborn to say something it was his own damn fault. He would have to live with the consequences.