His cousin. Your friends have become my friends, my family. Nae, she couldn't be. Rob looked at her, and then at Finn. They could be siblings. Och, h.e.l.l, she couldn't be a Stuart. But even as his mind rejected that appalling notion, everything seemed to make more sense now. He fought back the sickening wave that washed over him. He didn't want to believe it. Hiding a novice from a duke was one thing; kidnapping the king's daughter was another thing entirely.

"It still does no' explain why Monmouth or anyone would try to have her killed," Rob said, hoping they were wrong. "Even if she is one of Charles's illegitimate bairns, she is no' a threat. A son always precedes a daughter. Unless..." Unless she was not illegitimate-and Charles was not her faither. Rob stopped and closed his eyes as everything suddenly became clear. h.e.l.l, if he was correct he was about to bring the entire Royal Army down on Camlochlin, and mayhap the entire Dutch army with it. "Connor, could she be James's daughter?"

For a moment, Connor simply stared at him, as if he could not comprehend such a possibility. "James is an ogler of women, to be sure, but I've heard of no children born to him save fer Mary and Anne from his marriage to Anne Hyde. He has no children from his second marriage to Mary of Modena. And why the h.e.l.l would the king's daughter be living in a convent?"

For protection, Rob thought. Protection James was able to provide for his other two daughters who were forced to wed Protestants. His eldest daughter, Mary, was William of Orange's wife and next in line for the throne. Rob had another thought that drained the color from his face. What if Mary was not the king's firstborn?

Rob didn't realize he'd groaned out loud until Connor gripped his shoulder. "What is it?"

Davina hadn't just been living in an abbey. James had hidden his true heir away to ensure a Catholic succession should he perish-which birthed a new question. If Connor didn't know of her, no one else likely did, either. How had her enemies found her? She had been guarded by over a hundred men. Any one of them could have betrayed her to her enemies. They were no longer a concern. But something else was. Monmouth, Argyll, or William of Orange was trying to kill the king's heir... and the only reason to do so was if they were planning to take out the king, as well.

"Rob, what is it that brings such terror to yer face? Ye must tell me."

"Aye, I will," Rob said setting his fiery blue eyes on his friend. "And then ye must swear to do somethin' fer me."

It didn't take Davina long to decide she liked Connor Grant almost as much as she liked Finn. After his talk with Rob, he seemed more somber, even barking out to his men to be awake at the crack of dawn. But after an hour of sharing his rations and his memories of Camlochlin, the merriment that he shared with his younger brother returned to his eyes and his inescapably contagious laughter warmed her insides more than the flames crackling before her. She did catch him staring at her from across the fire. It made her uncomfortable because he was looking at her the way she often looked at Finn, as if trying to recognize similarities between them. But when their eyes met, he winked and flashed her a lighthearted smile before he turned his laughter back to the men around him.

She found Rob staring at her as well, and something in his quiet regard stirred her blood, her emotions. His smile was not frivolous when he graced her with it, but tender, somewhat pained, and utterly beautiful.

Davina knew, nestled in a circle of family and friends, tucked beneath a blanket of stars, that nothing in her future would ever be as difficult as resisting Robert MacGregor. If she lived to be forty she would never forget how his mouth felt against hers, or the shudders that weakened her when he pressed her to his body. Oh, he made her feel so alive. Even now, sitting close to him, close enough for his arm to brush hers, his musky male scent to invade her senses, her mettle dwindled, her breath stalled, and her nerve endings burned for something she did not fully understand. She closed her eyes to pray but the sound of his laughter lured her to look at him. When she did she forgot what she was asking of G.o.d. To change her path? To let her stay with Rob forever? What was a se'nnight of brooding compared to a smile so captivating it sucked the breath right out of her, or a kiss so beguiling that just the memory of it enraptured her? She wanted to be the one who brought joy to his life and fire to his eyes; the only one privy to his intimate expressions, his most private thoughts and desires.

And she wanted to trust him with hers.

"How does Tristan fare?" Connor asked Rob, bringing Davina's thoughts back to the present.

"He's still a careless rogue b.a.s.t.a.r.d," Colin answered for his brother, his voice dripping with the anger he'd been holding back since Connor arrived. "Much like yerself."

The blithe flicker in Connor's eyes sharpened like frost-tipped daggers on Rob's brother. "Ye wish to accuse me of something?"

"Aye, of tearing oot my sister's heart," Colin growled right back at him. "Talk of yer casual dips into the English loch of promiscuity has reached even our remote part of the world, Captain Grant."

Connor's features went hard. When he spoke, the deep, drawling pitch of his voice set a tremor to the air. "Ye speak with the boldness of a man. Use caution, else I'll be forced to remind ye that ye're still a lad."

Colin met the warning with a slow, challenging snarl. "Heed yer own words, Captain, else I'll be forced to make ye eat them."

Instead of putting an end to what, Davina was sure, was about to become a fight, Rob merely exchanged a knowing smirk with Will. Connor Grant smiled as well, and looking at him, Davina could imagine him moments before a battle he knew he was going to win.

When they both rose to their feet, she shot a concerned look at Rob, and received a rea.s.suring wink in return.

"Lads," Will called out to Connor's men, then took a bite from an apple he'd pilfered from one of their saddlebags, "ye're aboot to see yer captain on his knees."

"Never," one of the English soldiers called back as Connor and Colin moved a safe distance away. "The boy is about to be taught to respect his better."

"The MacGregors have nae betters." Eyeing the soldier with amus.e.m.e.nt, Will spit a seed from his lips. "Aye, Rob?"

"Aye," Rob agreed, still smiling, much to Davina's vast delight. "Colin, show these English how a Highlander fights."

His youngest brother's thick claymore came down upon Connor's sword with a clash that made half the men, including Will, cringe on impact. Connor met the blow with an upward thrust just as forceful. Davina shivered beside Rob, then froze altogether when he slipped his plaid off his shoulder and covered her with it. She did her best to ignore the warmth of his closeness, and the memory of all that hard muscle closing around her when he'd kissed her, by watching Colin parry and jab with brutal precision. The boy's lean physique lent to his agility, but the force in his blows erupted from someplace stronger than sinew. In the end however, it was Connor's experience and perhaps his own Highland upbringing that proved victorious. He took no joy in it though and even quieted his men when they began to cheer him.

"h.e.l.l, MacGregor," he said, out of breath when he placed his hands on Colin's shoulders, "my words are bitter indeed. Come to England with me. The new king needs men like ye."

"The lad would rather be flayed skinless and thrown into a vat o' hot oil," Will laughed, tossing his apple core over his shoulder.

"I'll only fight fer Scotland, Connor," Colin told him, returning his sword to its sheath. Will nodded and leaned his head against the tree he was sitting under. "But I will go to England with ye."

"What?" Will sat up and cast him a stunned look.

"I want to meet him, this new king." Colin didn't take his eyes off Connor, save for when he glanced at Davina. "What I have heard of him has piqued my interest."

"Just dinna' come back in an English uniform," Will warned him, then closed his eyes again.

"Finn will come as well," Connor told his brother as he returned to his place at the fire opposite Davina.

"Nae!" Finn protested. "I don't want to go to England." He turned to Rob, his eyes wide with pleading. "I want to go home."

Davina didn't want him to go with Connor either. She didn't know how long she would be in Skye or if she would ever see him again. She didn't realize her shoulders had stiffened until Rob rubbed his hand over them.

"Ye're a Stuart, lad," Rob said gently, his affection for Finn evident in his voice. "England will likely be yer home one day, as 'tis yer brother's."

"I'm a Grant, as well. And my home is Camlochlin."

Rob smiled, as did Davina, but both for different reasons.

"He's stayin'," Rob told Connor in a tone that put an end to the topic.

Davina didn't know if Mairi MacGregor had anything to do with Connor leaving Skye, or if he left out of loyalty to the royal side of his family, but it was clear that the conversation between Rob and Finn pained him. "Captain Grant?" she said, hoping to return him to his pleasant mood. "Finn has told me wondrous stories about your mother. Is she truly as brave as he says?"

Connor looked up, his easy smile returning. "Probably more so."

"I cannot wait to meet her," Davina told him, sincerely eager for the day. "Tell me more about your family, won't you?"

Connor looked at Rob and something secretive and cautious pa.s.sed between them. Then he told her all she wanted to know, and their laughter lasted long into the night, coiling the threads of happiness and hope around Davina's wary heart.

Chapter Seventeen.

Rob walked along the bank alone, unmindful of the spectacular sunrise splashing the loch with glittering hues of gold and burnt orange. It was only the second time he'd left Davina since Courlochcraig, but there were enough men with her this morn. She would be safe without him for as long as it took him to bathe. But soon he found his need to think clearly prevailing over his need to be clean. So he walked slowly, barefoot over the reeds and mossy rocks, his boots dangling from his hand at his side. He had enough good sense to know that being plagued by thoughts of Davina Montgomery-or Stuart-would lead to no good. But what good was good sense when all his other senses were consumed with her? How would he be able to make wise decisions for his clan if he had to see Davina, talk to her every day at Camlochlin, without being able to touch her again? More importantly, when had his duties to his clan ceased to matter compared to her safety? How could he be so reckless and still consider taking her home knowing who she was? G.o.d have mercy on them all, she was the king's daughter! Aye, he was certain of it now. He'd watched her last eve and the way she stared at Connor and Finn as if they were the brothers she'd been searching for all her life and finally found. Now, the emotion he saw in her eyes when she spoke of the king made sense. She was his daughter.... h.e.l.l, he was falling in love with the king's daughter! 'Twas bad enough that he'd decided to risk G.o.d's wrath by kissing her, by wanting her so badly nothing else mattered. But the b.l.o.o.d.y king...

When he came to a sandy inlet he dropped his boots and looked out over the loch. She was heir to the throne! She could never be his and the danger she posed to the people of Camlochlin had increased tenfold. Still, now more than ever he knew he had to protect her. He had already decided to continue on with her when he told Will and the others last eve who he believed her to be. Camlochlin was their home and they had a right to know what decisions he was making that could affect their future. As he suspected, the lads agreed to bring her home despite the danger. Aye, they had all gone mad.

How the h.e.l.l had Gilles's men found her? How did her enemies know she even existed when it seemed no one else did? Of course, Asher knew who she was, and the Abbess at Courlochcraig knew, as well. Rob understood now why both of them had refused to tell him anything. But what about Davina? When was she going to trust him enough to share the truth with him? Mayhap William of Orange knew of her through his wife, Davina's sister. Were Monmouth and Argyll planning a rebellion with the Prince of Orange? Which one of them had ordered Davina's death?

None of those questions mattered when weighed against the fact that she was the king's daughter. Even if her enemies never found her, her father would surely come for her. What would Rob do then? Would he lead his clan into war over a la.s.s? And what if she wanted to go? What if she knew her duty, and like him, was determined to see it done?

He should send her away now, before he lost his heart, and everything else, to her completely. He should, but he wasn't going to. Not after he'd kissed her and felt her heart beating frantically against her round b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Especially not after she'd kissed him back-her plump, warm lips curious at first, and then as hungry as his own. She was innocent, but her mouth was so sweetly wanton that he was tempted to give up everything in his life just to taste her again.

He tugged his shirt over his shoulders, tossed it to the ground, and stepped into the water. The frigid sting numbing his calves was just what he needed to quell the raging fire Davina incited in him. Squatting, he used a length of his plaid to scrub himself clean. He cupped his hands to gather the water and splashed it onto his face then loosened his hair and ran his wet fingers through it. He would bring her to Skye, keep her safe, and be content with just that for now. Aye, he could do it. As long as no one ever tried to hurt her, he could be content. He would worry about the king-and his own father-later.

He straightened, feeling better, and shook the water from his hair.

"I was looking for you."

He snapped his head up and knew he was a fool for thinking anything could douse what Davina stirred in him. Just looking at her made his muscles tighten with a need to have her, hold her, protect her. She stood alone, her fingers entwined in front of her, resting on the soft green wool of her skirts. She'd tied her hair up at her temples, exposing her slightly oversized ears, the sweet contours of her face. She was as slight as a veil, utterly defenseless against the storm that lurked in the distance. How could anyone want to hurt her?

She was looking for him. "I am not afraid when I'm with you." Aye, 'twas worth every tormenting hour spent in front of his father's sword to hear her say that.

He cleared his throat to keep himself from smiling at her like some watered down, doddering excuse for an English captain. "I was just aboot to start back."

"Why?" She blocked his path to stop him from going. "Rob, I don't want you to think you have to..."

"But I do." He moved closer toward her, drawn by the strength she cloaked around herself, and seduced by the vulnerability she tried to conceal beneath it. Then he remembered who she was and stopped. "I must."

"No." She took a step forward. A soft blush stole across her cheeks as her gaze traversed his bare chest and belly, his wet hair streaked across his face giving more depth to the startling need in his eyes. "No, Rob. I won't let you. You have done so much for me without even knowing why I am hunted. One day, you will understand why I have not told you."

He already did. She did not trust him.

"I will not risk your life until then."

When he opened his mouth to speak, she held up her palm, stopping him. "I've already asked Connor to take me away."

Rob wasn't sure whether to laugh or go find Connor and punch out a few of his teeth. "He isna' takin' ye anywhere," he told her instead, not caring how hard he was scowling at her.

"No, he isn't," she agreed, moving dangerously closer to him. "He is suddenly very eager to return to England. But he has a.s.sured me that he is as gallant a man as you and has agreed to have his men escort me to Ireland without question. No one will find me there."

Was she mad? Ah, G.o.d help him, was he? "I will find ye," he vowed. He did not expect her eyes to go all soft and liquid on him, or the effect her tears would have on the last shred of his good sense.

"No, Rob, please." Slowly, she lifted her fingers to the wound in his shoulder. The wound she'd given him. It was almost completely healed now. She touched it and his muscles twitched beneath her fingertips. "You don't understand-"

"Then help me understand, Davina." He could have told her then that he knew the truth-that Connor knew it as well. But he wanted her to tell him-to trust him with her life.

"It is too dangerous," she said softly. "I won't have you hurt... or worse because of me. I'll be safe in Ireland."

His hands clenched into fists at his sides. 'Twas all he could do to keep them there and not drag her into his arms. He couldn't have her, but he was going to keep her alive. "Ye'll be safe with me."

When she looked at him her eyes were full of regret. "But no one else will be."

Rob knew she understood what protecting her meant and once again, she was trying to protect him, finding some inner strength to turn him away. It made him ache even more to protect her. And he would. Her enemies would not find her in Skye, and if they did, Rob would slash open their throats before they reached Kylerhea. "My clan will stand behind my decisions. They are MacGregors and if they need to fight, they will. And we will win."

"You sound so certain," she told him, drifting closer still until he could feel her breath on his chin when she looked up at him. "So sure that all will be well. You make me believe it too. But I..." She closed her eyes and moved now to step away. "I cannot..."

He s.n.a.t.c.hed her back, hauling her to his chest with a force that knocked the breath out of her. He didn't care who the h.e.l.l she was. He'd never cared about England or her kings before, and he wasn't going to start now. "Trust me, Davina." He bent to her and brushed his mouth over hers. "Trust me," he found himself pleading, wanting it from her more than he'd realized, more than desire, more than possession.

Her smile was all the answer he needed, but when she flung her arms around his neck, he smiled back and covered her mouth with his.

"Very well then," she whispered..., breaking their kiss. "There is something I would like to tell you. But later." She smiled again, blushed, and then met the pa.s.sion in his kiss when he lifted her off her feet.

"Rob." Connor's voice wrenched Davina's mouth away as she turned, scarlet to her roots. Her mortification was made complete by the sight of Edward standing at Connor's side and wearing a look of crushed disbelief on his face.

Connor, on the other hand, didn't look surprised at all by the couple's pa.s.sionate embrace, but he did spare Rob a measured glance before he spoke. "We grew alarmed when ye didn't return, Miss Montgomery, but I see ye are in good hands."

When Davina slipped down his body and out of his arms, Rob's initial instinct was to grab for her hand and pull her back, but she was already halfway to Asher. Clenching his jaw to keep himself from calling her back, Rob watched her captain lead her away.

"We'll be leaving shortly."

Rob turned his glacial gaze on his old friend. "Then be on yer way, Connor." He pushed past him and bent to retrieve his boots. "But she's stayin' with me."

"Ye're still taking her to Camlochlin then?"

"Aye."

"Ye've thought this through, Rob?"

"Aye, I have." When Rob straightened, his eyes, eclipsed by his damp, dark locks, were level with Connor's. "And I willna' be moved on it."

"I understand ye have formed an attachment to the girl," Connor said, hurrying to catch up when Rob strode off. "But nothing can come of it. If we are correct about who she is, the king will never agree to a union between the two of ye."

Pausing, Rob turned on him, his voice rigid with control. "h.e.l.l, d'ye think I dinna' know that?"

"Judging from what I just saw, I don't think ye care."

Rob rarely lost his temper. He'd found, thanks to his constant training, that when he did, 'twas very difficult for him to get it back and noses usually got broken. He did his best not to lose it now with a friend. "If I didna' care, I would have..." He ground his jaw around cra.s.s words that were not in his character to utter. "I'm no' Tristan."

"I know," Connor told him sincerely, seeing the storm pa.s.s. "And that's what concerns me. Ye are not reckless."

Rob turned away, knowing where the conversation was heading and preferring not to hear any more of it. Da-vina and Asher were just up ahead and he kept his eyes on them as he walked.

"I will do as ye asked me last eve," Connor said, catching up again. "I'll warn the king of Monmouth's, and possibly William of Orange's plans, but keep from him the truth about his daughter's rescue until we know more, but ye cannot bring her to Camlochlin, Rob. 'Tis too dangerous."

"I have nae choice in the matter, Connor," Rob told him. "And as long as ye dinna' tell the king where she is, she will be safe. Whoever wants her dead willna' find her there."

"Mayhap ye're correct, but what if ye're not? The Admiral found her once already."

"Aye, and I am curious to know how he did," Rob said. Something p.r.i.c.ked at the edge of his memory, but when he reached for it, it eluded him. "There must be someone at court who knows of her existence. That is why I ask ye no' to tell the king that she lives."

"Rob," Connor stopped him just before they reached the campsite. "Though I spent my years at Camlochlin with Mairi and Tristan, I consider ye my brother. I don't agree with what ye're doing, but I'll stand by ye on it. I'm leaving six of my men with ye to escort ye to Oban. I have a small ship docked there and my men will take ye to Sleat. 'Tis faster than traveling on horseback, and the men can be trusted to deliver ye without revealing yer whereabouts should anyone question them."

Rob nodded and smiled for the first time that morning. "Ye have my grat.i.tude, Connor. I know I ask much of ye by keepin' the truth from the king-" Connor drew in a deep breath, proving the task would be a difficult one. "-When ye get to England, try no' to get into trouble with Tristan, and remember how many daggers Mairi keeps under her skirts."

Connor laughed, then looked over Rob's shoulder at Davina. "Keep my cousin safe, and yer heart in yer chest, old friend."

"I will," Rob promised, knowing he could accomplish at least one of the two tasks.