Return of the Highlander (20 page)

Tears welled up in her eyes. “Please Darach. This isn’t what I want. You have to believe that.”

“I don’t need to hear your apologies. You’ve already said more than enough.”

A mix of agony and antagonism sizzled in the air between them until she pointed at the bed and spoke ruefully.

“It kills me to ask this, but could you hide back under there, so that I can open the door?”

His eyes narrowed with bitter, pungent loathing. “I’ll not crawl under your bed and hide like a frightened mouse.”

“You did it before.”

“That was different.”

She waited for him to at least move behind the door where he would not be seen, then she opened it. Light from the torches in the corridor illuminated her face. She smiled brightly at the guard outside and said, “I am ready now.” Then she walked out and shut the door behind her.

With his blood burning hot as it pulsed through his veins, Darach waited a few seconds until the sound of footsteps disappeared down the tower steps. Then he turned, squeezed his eyes shut and tapped his forehead against the wall a few times, praying for self-restraint.

He’d never known himself to be a wild-tempered man. He had never felt anything to stir such intense feelings of rage before—except maybe when Logan was attempting to ravish Larena in the woods. Either way, she was the cause of it, and there seemed to be no cure. All he could think of was Larena doing what she must tonight to charm Colonel Chatham, to make sure he kept his promise to her. She might even offer additional temptations in exchange for more comfortable lodgings for her father, something preferable to the cold dungeon with the rats. She would smile at Chatham and allow him to kiss her hand, hold her in his arms, perhaps take liberties a fiancé might expect to enjoy with a woman he considered to be his property. A woman who owed him things.

Eyes blazing, his breathing ragged, Darach glanced sharply around the room.

How could she have done this to him? Led him on when she fully intended to go through with her marriage to another?

Darach’s blood exploded with ferocity. What did he have to offer her after all, but a drifter’s life with no true home? It would be day after day spent living in the saddle—or at best, in a small croft somewhere in the farthest reaches of the Highlands, where they would be forced to hide away like fugitives for the rest of their days? Love would never be enough. At least not for her, for she had proven that tonight.

Darach’s vision blurred into a sea of red, and he moved to gather up his weapons. He shoved his pistol into his belt and sheathed his sword. Then he whipped the door open, strode out into the corridor, and looked left and right, daring any man, armed or otherwise, to get in his way.

The next thing he knew, he was gathering provisions for the journey. A short while later, he mounted his horse in the stable and trotted across the bailey quickly. The fact that he had to pause at the gate and wait for the guard to raise the portcullis only fueled the fires of his discontent.

Glancing over his shoulder at the light in Chatham’s window at the top of the East Tower, he imagined Larena doing what she must to ensure her father’s survival.

Darach’s gut churned with white-hot jealousy, and he seriously considered storming up there and choking Chatham to death.

When the portcullis finally rose up on the rattle of chains through giant winches, Darach forced himself to kick in his heels and gallop across the bridge without looking back. His duty to his chief and to Larena Campbell was done. Her future and the politics at Leatham Castle were not his problem.

It was time to return home and push her from his mind forever, no matter how hard it would be to do so.

Chapter Twenty-two

Larena had done the correct thing in sending him away. It must have been the correct thing because clearly she had no will left in her heart to resist him.

God in Heaven
, she had let him make love to her. How could she have surrendered to him like that? So completely and without hesitation or a single thought about her future and the commitments she’d made?

Yes, oh yes, she was right to send him away, and she must continue to convince herself of that. Perhaps eventually, her heart would believe it as well and the agony would recede, because heaven help her, she still desired him and couldn’t bear to think that she would never see him again.

But despite all her practical, mindful deliberations as she walked with Lieutenant Roberts through the castle corridors to meet Gregory Chatham, she had to fight against the urge to turn around and run straight back to her bedchamber. At the very least, she wanted to apologize for the things she had said—because the memory of the hurt she’d seen in Darach’s eyes seemed a punishment worse than death.

She had once believed that nothing could be worse than the loss of her father, but the despair she felt now over the loss of Darach matched it equally. Her heart was grieving, as if Darach had been murdered before her very eyes—and
she
had been the one to wield the weapon. How would she ever carry on through dinner and hide her sorrows from Gregory, the man she was betrothed to marry?

Everything felt very wrong suddenly. She supposed it had felt wrong for quite some time, but even tonight, after she had chosen to give herself to Darach, she had somehow been able to deny what she truly wanted.

They reached the top of the stairs and Lieutenant Roberts knocked on the door. Gregory called out from within, “Enter.”

The door opened and Larena walked in to find him sitting in one of the upholstered chairs before the fire. He wore his elegant scarlet officer’s uniform with ivory breeches and held a glass of red wine in his hand.

He rose immediately upon her arrival and bowed slightly at the waist. “At last.”

She was vaguely aware of Roberts backing out and closing the door behind him. There could be no turning back now. She had come to her fiancé this evening and they would dine together, discuss the future, and make plans.

Her weary gaze slid to the candlelit table beneath the window. It was adorned with a white cloth, a vase full of colorful, freshly cut flowers, and the fine gold-trimmed china that had once belonged to her father.

Her father, who was lying in a prison cell at this very moment.

She felt like a prisoner, too.

“I apologize for my tardiness,” she said, striving to put on a brave face and get through this night.

“No apologies are necessary.” Gregory strode to the table and poured her a glass of wine. “You’ve had an exhausting day and you’ve been through a terrible ordeal. I am sorry for everything, Larena. Truly I am.”

“Sorry?”

“Yes.” He faced her. “I am sorry that you had to witness your father’s arrest and face the idea of his execution.” He strode toward her, holding out the wine. “I am sorry that you had to ride halfway across Scotland to plead for his life. I am also sorry that you were attacked by rebels upon your return. I wish I could have spared you all of that.”

She forced herself to meet Gregory’s eyes as she accepted the wine from him. “Thank you, but it’s in the past now.”

“Indeed,” he replied, looking decidedly pleased, “and we must look to the future. Please, come and sit with me by the fire.”

Still troubled by the events of the evening and the persevering memory of Darach standing nude over her bed with desire in his eyes, she took a deep swig of the wine and sat down.

“We have a few minutes before supper arrives,” Gregory mentioned, “and I am glad. I wanted a chance to tell you how pleased I am that we could come to this arrangement. If you only knew how often I have thought of you—always with the utmost affection—since we parted all those years ago. I have many fond memories of our friendship.”

“As do I,” she dutifully replied.

“Really?” He sat forward, conspicuously hopeful. “You were so young. What do you even remember of me?”

“I remember that you encouraged me to read,” she told him. “I still have the books you gave me.”

He sat back, appearing both surprised and delighted. “Which ones?”

“You gave me a book on English manners,” she explained, “and a child’s book of fables. The last book you gave to me before you left was the tragedy of
Romeo and Juliet
.”

The corner of his mouth turned up in a smile. “Ah. Perhaps I fancied myself Romeo and that you were my Juliet.”

She took another sip of wine. “Good gracious, I hope not. That play doesn’t end well for either of the young lovers.”

“No, it does not.” He set his glass down on the table beside him and rested his temple on his forefinger. “I was young I suppose, and at the time, I believed it was the end for us. I never would have believed I would see you again, Larena, especially under circumstances such as these. But here we are.”

Larena lowered her gaze to her lap. She knew not what to say, for she had been with another man a mere hour ago. She had given herself to him completely and could not purge him from her thoughts.

Everything about this moment in Gregory Chatham’s presence felt disastrous. She was both ashamed and devastated by the direction her life had suddenly taken. What was she to do?

“Would you like to know what I remember most about you?” Gregory asked, tapping a finger on the armrest.

Larena looked up, waiting quietly for him to continue.

“I was twelve or thirteen years old,” he began, “and you couldn’t have been more than nine or ten. I had been backed into a corner of the library by a pack of Campbell ruffians. The lads had taken my book and were ripping the pages out of it, calling me all sorts of names I don’t care to repeat. Then you showed up with your bow and arrow, smaller than any of them, and threatened to shoot the leader, straight through the heart.”

“Did I? Goodness… Yes, I do remember that now. I didn’t actually shoot anyone, did I?”

“No,” he said with a laugh. “But you were quite fierce and they all ran out and didn’t bother me again. At least not for a long while, anyway.” He leaned forward and regarded her with narrowed eyes. “You’d forgotten about that?”

“Yes,” she replied with a small smirk at her girlhood mischiefs.

A muscle flicked at his jaw. “Well, I suppose I should consider that a blessing, because it’s not how I want you to remember me, Larena, or how I wish you to see me now.”

She stared at him, confused. “How do you mean?”

He stood and went to pour himself more wine from the decanter on the table. “I am no longer that timid boy, Larena. I know how to handle my enemies now. Though I was sorry to leave this place years ago, I am grateful that my English father came to collect me. He was very effective, you see, at toughening me up and instructing me in the arts of war. I came back here hoping to meet those bullies again on equal footing, but I was sorry to learn that most of them perished at the Battle of Sheriffmuir, years ago.”

Gregory returned to stand over her, slowly raised the glass to his lips, and regarded her over the rim as he sipped it.

Something about the way he looked at her caused a chill to skirt up her spine.

A knock sounded at the door just then.

“Wonderful,” Gregory said. “Supper has arrived.” He offered his hand to help her rise. She went with him to the table where they sat down and waited for the clanswomen to serve up their dinners.

“That will be all,” Gregory said when they were done.

After they were gone, Larena picked up her fork and made a valiant attempt to eat something, despite the fact that she possessed no appetite. How could she possibly think of food when she had been made love to that very night? Yet she had banished her lover forever, and was now dining with another who expected to become her husband.

“You look tired my dear,” he said, aggressively slicing his meat. “I cannot imagine you had an easy time of it, traveling all the way from Kinloch with that MacDonald man. I am most concerned about it.”

“Why?”

His eyes lifted. “Because I saw the way he looked at you when you walked through this door today. There was something rather sinister in his eyes. He didn’t touch you did he?”

“Of course not,” she quickly answered. “He seemed very intent upon doing his duty for his laird. That was all.”

“
Hmm
. But you would tell me, wouldn’t you? If he tried to disgrace you in any way? Because if anything made you the least bit uncomfortable or fearful for your safety or virtue, I would see to it that he was properly punished.”

Larena set down her fork. “He was a perfect gentleman and I owe him everything. As do you, Gregory.”

Gregory studied her eyes for a tension-filled moment. “Of course. He is gone now, I presume?”

She feigned indifference. “I have no idea. Though I suspect so. Did he not say he wished to leave tonight? I thought that’s what I heard.”

“
Mmm
.” Gregory slid a forkful of beef into his mouth and chewed vigorously. “There was something familiar about him, though. It put me on edge. I am still trying to figure out what it was.”

Larena’s heart began to beat faster. She forced herself to speak in a light and casual tone. “He wasn’t familiar to me at all.”

“No?” Gregory looked up with a hint of mistrust. “But you would tell me if there was anything I should know about him.”