Free The Raider by Monica McCarty Page A

that.
    “Hostages are given, not taken,” Seton said stubbornly.
    “As I did not feel like waiting around to ask someone, I’d say the distinction is meaningless. But feel free to return to Norham and wait for Clifford so you can negotiate. Although I would think from previous experience that you might not like the way those negotiations turn out.”
    Seton knew better than to wade into that cesspit. The manner of their capture at Kildrummy was still a sore point even after all these years. His teeth clenched until the muscle in his jaw ticced. “I don’t like it.”
    “You don’t have to like it,” Boyd replied bluntly. “The king wants Clifford’s truce, and the boy will ensure that this time Clifford negotiates in good faith.”
    His partner didn’t say anything, although it was clear he wanted to.
    Suddenly, Robbie understood what it was, and in spite of the current tension between them, it packed a surprising sting. “Hell, Dragon, after all that we’ve been through, you can’t think I’d hurt the lad?”
    Seton pinned his gaze to his, his mouth pursed in a hard line. “I don’t want to think so, but I know how much you hate his sire.”
    Robbie’s fists squeezed at his side. “Aye, I want vengeance, but against Clifford, not a green squire. Despite my reputation to the contrary, I do not slaughter innocents or make war on those weaker than me.”
    His partner should know that.
    Perhaps Seton realized it as well. “Everyone’s weaker than you,” he said dryly.
    Robbie managed a small smile at the jest, and what he suspected was meant as an apology. “You know what I meant.” He couldn’t abide bullies. Perhaps because of his strength, he was even more conscious of fighting worthy opponents.
    Seton bent down, picking up his helm and handing it to him. “You intend to let the woman go?”
    Robbie tucked the helm under his arm. “I wouldn’t have taken her in the first place, but she’d latched on to the boy and Fraser was having a difficult time separating them. I figured the boy would put up less of a fight if I took her.”
    “Who is she?”
    Robbie shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably a servant—a nursemaid, perhaps.”
    “She isn’t a nursemaid,” Fraser said, approaching them from the trees where they’d left the horses. MacLeod’s young brother by marriage, Sir Alexander Fraser had become one of their regular companions in the war along the Borders.
    Robbie frowned. “How do you know?”
    “One look at her face.” He shook his head. “If I had a nursemaid who looked like that, I would never have left the nursery.”
    So the nicely shaped bottom wasn’t an aberration. Still, Robbie was sure Fraser exaggerated.
    “I wasn’t aware that beauty precluded servitude, but I’ll take a Scottish serving maid over an English Rose any day,” Robbie said.
    “My partner here is convinced nothing of any worth grows below the Roman wall,” Seton added.
    “Aye, well, be prepared to change your mind,” Fraser said.
    Suddenly curious, Robbie glanced through the trees to where he’d left the hostages. The dense trees and thickening mist prevented him from seeing anything. He scanned the area around him, frowning when he saw Malcolm kneeling by the stream, apparently filling up his skin with water. The young warrior stood and started back up the hill.
    “Who is watching the boy and the woman?” he asked Fraser.
    “I thought you told Malcolm to. I left Clifford’s whelp with him before I came to find you.”
    Robbie swore.
    “What’s wrong?” Seton asked.
    But Robbie was already striding toward the horses. He reached the clearing only moments after Malcolm, who was standing there stunned, looking around.
    “Where are they?” Robbie demanded.
    Malcolm’s face paled. “The lady fainted. I went to fetch her some water. I was only gone for a few minutes.”
    Robbie swore again. He was really beginning to regret not being the type of man who would knock a lass out of the way.
    The