Page 96 of A Remarkable Rogue

When they crossed the stone threshold into the passageway that led outside, she called down to Robbie over her shoulder. “Run back into the training room and free Sergeant McTavish. Use one of the knives from the wall to cut his bindings. Quickly!”

Robbie didn’t let go of her skirt. “No! I’m not leaving you.”

“Go free McTavish,” she bit out angrily.

She heard a sniveling catch of breath at the harshness of her words, and it broke her heart. But they desperately needed help, and none would be coming until Nate returned at sunset. They had to mount their own attack.

“That isan order!”

His fingers released her skirt, and she felt him slip away. The loss was nearly unbearable. Only when she heard the soft running of his footsteps across the stones toward the training room did she allow herself to feel any relief at all.

“Keep going,” she commanded Hawking and slashed the blade again as she stepped forward. “You will go right out that door andnevercome—”

His hand shot out and clamped around the blade. The rapier cut into his palm with a sickening slice, but he gritted his teeth and gripped it so tightly that she couldn’t move it to free it from his grasp, not even when bright red blood dripped down his arm.

With an animal growl, he wrenched the rapier from her grasp and threw it away. It clattered onto the stone floor, far out of her reach. His bloody hand clenched her throat and pushed her back. She tripped over the thick chain that ran along the edge of the passageway and held the heavy portcullis in place above, but Hawking’s hand at her throat held her upright. Then he pinned her to the wall.

She struggled to free herself, but it was no use. His grip was too strong at her neck, and every time she tried to wiggle free, his fingers tightened on her throat until she could barely breathe. Black spots danced before her eyes, and the rush of blood through her ears with every pounding heartbeat was deafening. She was trapped between his heavy body and a tall wooden lever positioned against the stone wall.

“You’re the only person who can link me to the assassination attempts,” he snarled.

The knife blade gleamed in the slant of sunlight from the open door as he raised it toward her face and turned it back and forth so she could see it. The bastard wanted her to be afraid.

But as long as Robbie was safe, she would never be terrified at the hands of a man again.

“Revolutions always cost lives.” He lowered the knife toward her belly. “Now, you’ll sacrifice yours.”

Summoning all her strength, she let out a fierce cry and shoved him as hard as she could. He stumbled back.

She grabbed the wooden lever at her side and yanked. The chain lock released. With a deafening clanking of metal sliding across metal, the chain blurred as its links sped across the floor, and overhead, the rattle of wood and metal against stone vibrated against the passageway walls. He jumped back as the spiked gate crashed down. The portcullis slammed to the floor between her and Hawking, sealing him outside.

“Bitch!” he bellowed furiously. From between the slats, he threw the knife at her. She ducked and dropped to the floor. The knife struck the wall just above her head.

A loud strike of metal against stone reverberated off the walls, and the second portcullis behind Hawking slammed down into place. He was trapped in the narrow passageway.

From the blinding sunlight behind him, a tall figure stepped forward into the shadows.

Nate.

He stood like a mountain in the doorway, with one of the battle-axes that framed the outside door resting across his shoulders, the same axe he’d used to drop the second portcullis. His eyes stared past Hawking as the man threw himself repeatedly against the thick gates in a futile attempt to break free, and his gaze landed on Sydney. The look in his eyes—a mix of love, regret, worry, and fury—stripped her breath away and drew the first sob from her lips.

“Mother!”

Robbie flung himself into her embrace. His little arms wrapped around her neck. He pressed himself against her as tightly as he could, while behind him McTavish hurried from the training room, a sword in each hand.

“You should have known better,” Nate told Hawking as he lowered the axe to his side. “Never come between a child and his mother.”

Robbie tightened his hold on her, and she cooed softly to him as she rocked him reassuringly in her arms, her mother’s instinct strong and pure. There were no more doubts now that she would be a good mother, just as there were no doubts about her future with Nate.

“We’re safe now.” She raised her head to meet Nate’s gaze, and her promise was as much for him as for Robbie. “No one will ever separate us again.”

Twenty-Nine

Nate stood shoulder to shoulder between Clayton Elliott and St James. In front of them, Charles Langley—soon to be the former Marquess of Hawking—sat bound and gagged on one of the Armory’s large leather chairs.

“What do we do with him?” St James muttered beneath his breath.

What Nate wanted to do was kill the bastard with his bare hands for threatening Sydney and Robbie.