Heart's Thief (Highland Bodyguards, Book 2) (23 page)

The King’s eyes widened again as he turned to Sabine.

“It’s true that I recited your missive, sire,” she said quickly, “but I must confess that there would have never been a need for me to speak had I not read it and then accidentally destroyed it.”

Finn muttered another curse, but the Bruce’s attention didn’t waver from her. “Go on.”

Sabine told of how after Fabian’s attack, she’d believed herself alone in the world, defenseless except in her ability to secure and memorize information. She left out the intimacies she’d shared with Colin, though she explained that because of Fabian’s cruelty, she’d feared she couldn’t trust Colin despite his honor and kindness toward her.

She described how the missive had caught fire, and how she’d known in a moment of clarity that no matter what happened to her, she needed to deliver the King’s message.

“Men’s lives depended on it,” she said quietly. “Men who were fighting for the kind of freedom I had never known under Fabian’s thumb.”

Sabine couldn’t interpret the long silence that followed her words. The Bruce and Garrick exchanged an unreadable look. Finn’s features were still set in granite, though he no longer shot daggers at her with his dark eyes.

“Ye also have Sabine to thank for taking out Fabian, Robert,” Colin said, breaking the silence. “She rid ye of a dangerous enemy.”

Garrick leaned forward in his chair. “This I must hear.”

“Fabian’s men sprang on us no’ far from Dumfries. The lass had a blade to her throat, and I was on my knees about to meet my maker,” Colin said. “She tricked Fabian’s men into leading us to him, then burned the filthy rat alive, along with countless stolen documents.”

Garrick whistled low in astonishment. For the first time, Finn’s steely resolve faltered and a look of genuine shock crossed his features.

“Is that true, lass?” the Bruce breathed.

“A-aye,” she murmured. “I stalled him with a lie about what your missive contained, then knocked over the candles on his desk. Accidentally burning your missive actually gave me the idea. I knew there was naught that Fabian valued more than his slips of parchment—not even human life.”

She turned to Colin, suddenly frightened. “I know I said I would not lie anymore, but I broke that promise when I lied to Fabian. I hope that someday you can forgive—”

“Lass,” Colin said gently. “Ye saved my life with that lie—and ye protected the King’s cause once again. There is naught to forgive.”

Relief washed over her, but when she turned back to the Bruce, the slight frown behind his beard made her stomach twist once again.

“Are ye prepared to tell me everything ye ken about this Fabian and his organization?”

She nodded her head fiercely, but then stilled.

“What is it? Why do ye hesitate, lass?” the Bruce demanded.

“I will gladly tell you everything I know,” she said quickly. “It is just…Fabian kept me isolated. I rarely ever saw anyone else in his employ, and spoke only with Miles, who died in the fire with Fabian.”

The Bruce considered this for a moment. “But ye understand his techniques, do ye no’? Ye understand the tactics ye and I imagine others like ye employed in yer work?”

“Aye.”

“We’ll start there, then—no’ now, but when ye’ve gotten some more rest.”

“There may be others like Sabine still out there, Robert,” Colin said grimly. “Or worse, others like Fabian. Yet I am still hopeful. With Fabian’s death, the head of the beast has been lopped off. Without the head, whatever remains of his organization will likely crumble soon enough.”

“We also still dinnae ken who paid the lass’s boss for the contents of yer missive, Robert,” Garrick said, his face darkening.

“Aye,” the Bruce said. “It could be one of our old enemies gaining in strength and boldness, or it could be an entirely new threat. Be that as it may, the question remains: what am I to do with ye, Sabine?”

All eyes fell on Sabine. Her heart hammered against her ribcage and her breath grew short.

“I imagine that Finn would label ye a traitor and a danger to our fight against the English.” The King flicked a glance at Finn, who only lifted a dark eyebrow, his features stoic.

“I also imagine that Garrick would call ye brave. As his wife is English, I believe he would have no problem allowing ye to join our cause.”

Sabine blinked. She’d been so lost in her own fears and worries for the past sennight that she hadn’t noticed that Jossalyn spoke with the same English accent she bore.

A larger thought crowded that one out, however. Was the Bruce saying that he was even
contemplating
not giving her the punishment of a traitor? Might there be a possibility that she would be allowed to join Colin in Scotland’s cause?

Before she could consider that shocking possibility, the Bruce went on.

“And of course Colin loves ye, so I can gather where he stands. But I think I would like to let ye speak for yerself. What would ye have me do with ye, lass?”

Sabine’s mouth fell open. She quickly clamped it shut, her cheeks heating at the rudeness of gaping at a King. It took her a long moment and several deep breaths to form words.

“I…I know I have hurt many people over the years I spent serving Fabian. I may have even hurt you and your cause, sire, though I can’t know with certainty.”

Finn crossed his arms over his chest, a scowl on his face. Sabine hurried on before she lost her nerve.

“I was taught to steal, to trick people, to manipulate and lie. I wish I had not been molded so. I wish I could go back and change what I’ve done, what I was trained to become.” Her voice grew thinner as she spoke until it was little more than a whisper.

Colin reached between their chairs and took her hand, squeezing it silently.

A flicker of pain crossed the Bruce’s face. “Ye were just a child when Fabian took ye, lass. Ye were innocent before he hurt ye, before he used ye.”

The Bruce cleared his throat, which suddenly sounded rough and thick. “I am sickened by those who drag women and children into warfare. This isnae the first time in this bloody war that the innocent have been made into either targets or weapons. Either way, they are the victims of men’s cowardice and dishonor.”

Sabine blinked back tears, so moved was she by the Bruce’s words. She swallowed the lump in her throat, though, needing to go on.

“But the truth is, I cannot undo my past. Given that fact, all I can do is choose from this point onward how I will use my skills and abilities.” She glanced at Finn, who still stared at her with hard eyes, but who listened nonetheless. “And I would choose to commit myself to you and your fight for freedom.”

She held the Bruce’s gaze steadily, showing him the truth of her words in her eyes. “I want to do good, and I’ve never encountered more good than I have in Colin. He has pledged himself to you, sire. If he believes in you and this cause, then I know that all you stand for, all you do, is honorable and just.”

She heard Colin suck in a breath, but she kept her eyes on the Bruce. Something soft flickered across his gaze. One corner of his mouth lifted in an almost-smile.

“And where would ye start in this quest to do good?”

Sabine sat up straight, squaring her shoulders. “For starters, I would instruct you to dab a bit of pine sap along the seams of your missives. Then the seal could be lifted, but the parchment could not be opened without showing signs of tampering.”

“What else, lass?” Garrick said, leaning forward with interest.

“I’d insist on working with your messengers to become more adept at watching for thieves and spies. Giant warriors aren’t the only ones who can extract information,” she went on. “Your man Osborn was too easily duped. Even Colin was fooled into paying me no heed when I first met him.”

She clamped her teeth shut, suddenly realizing that she’d just criticized Colin in front of his King, drawing attention to his initial failing. To her shock, though, Garrick actually barked a laugh. Finn lifted a brow sardonically, shooting Colin a withering look, and the Bruce’s lips twitched in what looked dangerously close to a smile.

Colin snorted, then sighed. “As ye can see, Robert,” he said, “she clearly has much to offer.”

“Aye, and there may even be a spot in the King’s inner circle opening up since Colin cannae guard against a wee bonny lass,” Garrick said with another laugh.

Colin shot a searing glare at Garrick, but before he could respond, the King held up a hand.

“Aught else, lass?”

Sabine pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she considered. “I’ll do whatever I can to weed out what’s left of Fabian’s organization, and defend against such threats in the future. In truth, I hadn’t considered the details, for I feared that my future would be short once you’d heard everything I’d done.”

Once again, the Bruce’s eyes went soft for a moment.

“I’m not sure how else I can help,” Sabine went on, “but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it is that information is potent. Who has it, who doesn’t, who wants it—all are powerful tools.”

The Bruce suddenly stiffened in his chair, his gaze drifting away from Sabine and to the tent’s canvas ceiling.

“I think ye’ve just given me an idea, lass,” he said after a moment. A slow smile split his face. “A verra good idea.”

Late September, 1315

Lochmaben, Scottish Lowlands

Colin held the reins as Andrew Harclay, constable of Carlisle Castle, mounted a gray palfrey.

“Farewell, Bruce,” Harclay said, glancing down at the King, who stood by Colin’s side, “I cannot say I’ll miss you, but this has been most…interesting.”

A fortnight earlier, Colin, Finn, Garrick, and a small force of select warriors had infiltrated Carlisle and taken Harclay hostage. Instead of attempting an all-out siege on the castle’s impenetrable walls, they’d walked through the gates one by one during the village’s harvest festival, then forced Harclay from the castle’s protection.

Of course, they hadn’t harmed Harclay. As a titled and knighted man, Harclay had been transported to Lochmaben where he’d been held with every comfort fitting his station until his ransom was agreed upon.

Besides, Colin thought ruefully, it served the Bruce’s purposes to treat Harclay with all due respect.

The Bruce grinned up at Harclay as the man settled himself in the saddle. “Aye,” he replied. “A most fruitful visit ye paid me.”

Harclay snorted, but grudging respect sat in his eyes. “An unwilling visit,” Harclay corrected. “Yet I must admit that I am in awe of how well you have played this situation.”

Colin guided the palfrey toward the edge of the Bruce’s camp, making room for the Bruce to walk alongside Harclay’s knee.

“Your actions have presented quite the puzzle to me this last fortnight. Your men captured me and brought me here ostensibly for the ransom payout,” Harclay said, tilting his head toward the Bruce. “And yet upon my arrival you tell me that the Earl of Lancaster, the most powerful man in all of England behind only the King himself, has committed treason in attempting to form an alliance with you. More shocking still, you claim to have proof in the form of letters written in Lancaster’s own hand.”

The Bruce chuckled. Colin had been present when the Bruce had shown Harclay the damning letters, which had begged for the Bruce’s aid in protecting Lancaster’s bastard son.

Those letters had sent Ansel Sutherland, one of Colin’s fellow Bodyguard Corps members, into England to watch over Lancaster’s son. And Lancaster’s double-crossing treachery against the Bruce had almost cost Ansel his life.

Ever since then, the Bruce had been looking for a way to undermine Lancaster, and Harclay posed the perfect opportunity.

“I have been struggling to understand why you would make me privy to such information,” Harclay went on. “After all, Lancaster was the man who knighted me eight years ago. His power threatens King Edward’s. He is a formidable ally—and a dangerous enemy.”

“And have ye puzzled out my aims, then?” the Bruce asked.

“I believe I have,” Harclay replied. “Correct me if I err, but you know I am loyal to King Edward. Therefore in telling me of Lancaster’s treason, you have now set me against Lancaster, for I cannot abide a man without honor, a man who would go against his King.”

The Bruce nodded, another grin threatening at the corners of his mouth.

“But unless I wish to make known Lancaster’s treachery to my King immediately—which I don’t, for even as we speak, I fear that Lancaster’s power may have already eclipsed King Edward’s—you now hold something over
my
head, just as you hold knowledge of Lancaster’s treason over his.”

“Aye. If I were King Edward, I would be furious to learn of Lancaster’s betrayal. But I would be even more irate to discover that one of my trusted men had knowledge of such a betrayal but didnae bring it to my attention.” The Bruce patted the palfrey’s neck, his dark eyes dancing as he looked up at Harclay.

“So now you have me in a bind, as well as Lancaster. And to top it all off, you’ve managed to extract two thousand marks for my ransom payment as well.” Harclay shook his head slowly, that light of grudging respect once again returning to his eyes. “And that is why I say well played, Bruce.”

“I would thank ye for the praise, but I cannae take full credit for the scheme,” the Bruce said with a little bow. “Ye see that lass over there?”

Colin followed the Bruce’s finger where he pointed behind them into the camp. Standing in a small grassy clearing between several of the tents stood Sabine.

Colin’s heart lurched at the mere sight of her. Her sable hair hung unbound, shining richly in the slanting fall sunlight. She wore a sky-blue dress that hugged her slim yet shapely body. Before her stood Osborn, looking none too pleased to be engaged in conversation with her.

Over the past month, she’d slowly emerged of her shell, coming to trust more and more that she belonged in the Bruce’s camp to help the King in any way she could.

So too had their love deepened as the trust they’d begun to build between them continued to grow. No longer did Colin have to force a smile to his face in order to charm or coax others, for at the mere thought of Sabine, his smile came naturally.

“That wee lass there reminded me just how powerful information can be,” the Bruce went on. “And thanks to her, I have been devising all sorts of ways to use information to my advantage.”

In response to the Bruce’s wolfish smile, Harclay snorted and shook his head again.

“My men will see ye safely to the ransom exchange point,” the Bruce said, coming to a stop as they reached the edge of the camp.

Just then, Garrick and Finn approached on horseback. Colin handed Harclay’s reins to Finn, who nodded curtly.

Colin had some repairing to do on his friendship with Finn. Ever since Colin had proclaimed his intention to marry Sabine, Finn had been cool toward him—well, cooler than normal, for Finn was naturally a taciturn, guarded man. Still, Finn held an especially fervent distrust for the English ever since his family had been killed by English soldiers more than ten years ago.

As Garrick and Finn moved to either side of Harclay’s palfrey, Colin stepped next to the Bruce.

“Are ye sure ye dinnae wish for me to go with them?” he asked under his breath.

“Nay, for I think ye will have better things to do today,” the Bruce replied, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

Colin lifted a brow at his King. “What are ye up to now?”

“I believe it is time for ye to wed yer woman,” the Bruce said, waggling his russet-gray eyebrows at Colin. “We can arrange something in, say, a sennight—that is, if ye still wish to make her a MacKay.”

Colin’s heart swelled so greatly that he feared it would break his ribs. “Oh, aye, I do.”

“Then ye’d best go tell her,” the Bruce said, waving Colin toward Sabine.

He didn’t need any further encouragement. He darted from the King’s side and strode swiftly to where Sabine still stood with Osborn.

“…still dinnae understand why ye needed to hit me quite so hard over the head,” Osborn was saying, his arms crossed over his chest and a sour scowl on his face.

“As I said, I apologize for that,” Sabine replied, “but it is more important to me that you never allow someone—”

Her words were cut off abruptly as Colin swept her off her feet and into his arms.

“What are you doing?” Sabine demanded, hazel eyes wide and lips parted in surprise as Colin began striding toward the tent they’d shared for the last month.

Colin ignored Osborn’s grumbled complaints as they left him behind.

“I am taking my wife to our tent,” he replied.

Sabine lifted a skeptical eyebrow, but then her whole face transformed with hope. “Does that mean that he—”

“Aye, the Bruce agreed to allow us to wed, though he is making us wait another sennight.”

Sabine laughed as he shoved aside their tent’s flaps and strode in. Colin’s heart nearly stopped. It was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

“I don’t care if he makes us wait for a sennight or a month or a year.”

“Is that so?” Colin said, setting her down on their cot.

“Aye, for I will love you no matter what, forever.”

Colin’s chest expanded as he took Sabine’s mouth in a searing kiss. His love had grown so big that there was no more room in his heart for doubts or fears.

“Ye’ve stolen my heart completely, lass,” he murmured against her lips. “And I love ye for it.”

The End