Part 10 (2/2)

”Nae, she-”

”Davina,” Finn plucked his cap from the ground, fit it back over his tousled hair, and raced to her side. ”'Tis my brother, Captain Connor Grant.”

Connor stepped around Rob and sauntered toward her. He moved with absolute power and the lithe, leisurely grace of a lion, confident in his prowess to catch his prey if it fled. Davina resisted the urge to step back and sized him up as boldly as he did her.

He wore the same military style short coat as Edward, but Connor's was crisper, silver b.u.t.tons polished against scarlet, and fitting more snugly over a trim waist and shoulders almost as wide as Rob's. Like Finn's, his hair, when he removed his hat to greet her, was absent of any curl, cut slightly shorter and streaked in bold shades of flaxen and honey. But that was where the resemblance ended. His nose was sharper, his startling blue eyes shaded by more experience, and his smile, accented with a deep, roguish dimple on each side, banished any trace of innocence.

He reached for her hand and then flicked his gaze to Edward when the other captain stepped forward and introduced himself.

”May I also present Davina Montgomery, who is in my care,” Edward added and dropped his gaze to Connor's fingers wrapped around hers.

”In yer care?” Connor asked skeptically, swinging his glance to Rob.

”We found her at St. Christopher's Abbey just ootside Dumfries,” Rob said, shoving Edward out of his way.

”They were burning it down,” Finn added, getting in on the conversation. ”When we arrived, there was little left, and then Rob got sh-”

”Who was burning it down?” Connor dropped Davina's hand and gave his full attention to Rob.

”The Dutch,” Rob told him soberly, ”We are no' certain whose orders they were followin', the Duke of Monmouth or the Earl of Argyll. They killed the sisters, and Asher's regime of men.”

Connor's jaw went taut and when he looked at Edward again, sorrow and rage vied for dominance over his features. ”What were yer men doing at the Abbey?”

When Edward didn't answer him right away, he settled his gaze back on Davina, but she looked away. She wasn't about to tell him anything. Captain Grant might be her cousin, but she knew firsthand that in n.o.ble courts, family sometimes meant very little.

”Connor.” Rob pulled the captain's attention back to him. ”'Tis gettin' dark. Make camp here tonight and I will tell ye what we know.”

”Aye, my men could use the rest,” Connor agreed, ”We'll leave at first light. If the Dutch have arrived in England and have killed our soldiers, I must inform the king.”

Davina bit her lip, worried what Rob might tell him, and then remembered that he didn't know much.

”So, ye are certain that the men who attacked the Abbey were Dutch?” Connor walked along the moonlit bank with Rob at his side. They did not venture far from the camp, but stayed well enough away so that the others could not hear them. ”Did ye see them?”

”Aye, I saw what was left of them. I didna' know who they were until the la.s.s told me.”

”Could she have been mistaken?”

Rob shrugged his shoulders. He hadn't considered that she had. ”Could Asher?”

Connor looked back at the camp and at the dark-haired captain watching them from his place by the fire.

”Accordin' to him,” Rob continued, ”the men were led by Admiral Peter Gilles.”

”Gilles?” Connor's attention snapped back to Rob.

”Aye. D'ye know him?”

”I know of him. Satan's b.l.o.o.d.y a.r.s.e, Rob,” Connor said, raking his hand though his hair. ”This does not bode well for the king. Though Gilles is the Duke of Monmouth's man, 'tis rumored that he has affiliations with William of Orange.”

Rob thought about the implications while they walked. ”So,” he said after a moment, ”the king may have enemies more powerful than he suspects.”

”Aye, he may,” Connor said thickly. ”After Monmouth was exiled, Prince William staunchly denied any affiliation with him, or with Argyll, Gilles, or any of the Exclusionists who opposed a Catholic succession. Though my uncle did swear to having seen the Prince with Monmouth and Gilles when he was in Holland, William is James's son-in-law and with no other proof against him, remains in good standing with the new king.”

”I understand why William would plan a rebellion against the king,” Rob said, knowing firsthand now why England's politics were important to his clan. ”With James gone, the prince's wife, Mary Stuart, is next in line fer the throne. But what will Monmouth benefit from such treason?”

”The Duke of Monmouth is Charles II's illegitimate son.”

Rob stopped and looked at him. It made nae sense. If Monmouth deposed the king, Mary Stuart would claim the throne as James's firstborn legitimate daughter. Why would William give his support to a man who vied for his wife's succession? And why, after all Davina had told them about the new king and his policies, hadn't she told him that Monmouth claimed t.i.tles.h.i.+p to the throne?

”Supporters of a Protestant succession, including the Prince of Orange, rallied fer Monmouth to be named Charles's heir before the Exclusion Bill,” Connor told him. ”King Charles came very close to legitimizing Monmouth on a number of different occasions, but he never did.”

What did any of this have to do with Davina?

”'Twas James who was formally acknowledged and Monmouth spoke severely against him in the House of Lords,” Connor continued. ”When Charles began hanging some of the duke's supporters, Monmouth fled to Holland with the already exiled Argyll. 'Tis been rumored that he returned a few months ago, but we did not know with any certainty.”

”So Monmouth hates James fer religious-and more personal-reasons. Why no' strike James?” Rob asked. He hadn't tried to figure any of it out before. He hadn't cared, but now, feeling as if he was on the threshold of learning Davina's secrets, he did.

”Aye,” Connor agreed. ”And why an abbey full of nuns?”

”'Twas Davina they had come fer,” Rob told him truthfully. Connor may have given his allegiance to his king, but he would die before betraying the MacGregors.

Connor looked at him, then over his shoulder again at the campsite. ”Why her?”

”She will no' tell me why. No' the truth anyway.” Rob's eyes found Davina when she laughed at something Finn said. ”Nor will Asher.” His eyes hardened when they settled on Davina's captain among the men. ”He is in love with her.”

”Are ye?”

Rob flicked his gaze to his friend. ”She is a novice of the Order.”

”Come now, Rob. She is obviously more than that,” Connor pointed out dryly. ”What has she told ye?”

”No' much, save that she is an orphan. Her parents were n.o.bles from Whithorn. She refuses to tell me any more.”

Connor smiled and shook his head at him. ”Mayhap she hasn't given ye answers because it's obvious ye don't really want them.”

”Ye're right. I dinna' care,” Rob said in a low, warning tone. ”I'm no' goin' to let her die.”

”Well, I don't believe her family is from Whithorn,” Connor said, watching her loop her arm through Finn's. ”'Twould seem she is more than a baron's daughter.”

Rob sighed, giving in to his own curiosity. He didn't believe it either. He knew in his heart that she was someone very important to the kingdom, but he didn't want to know any more than that. He didn't want a sound reason why he shouldn't... couldn't bring her home.

”She could be Monmouth's sister,” Connor ventured out loud. ”King Charles was known to have fathered many b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. She is beautiful enough to be a Stuart.” Connor's voice went soft as the firelight made Davina's hair s.h.i.+mmer like misty clouds around a full moon. ”Of course, then,” he added uneasily, ”that would make her my cousin.”

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