The Arrow: A Highland Guard Novel (The Highland Guard) (38 page)

John’s mouth was tight and his expression strained as
she drew nearer. Finally, she stood before him. Holding her breath, bracing for the worst, she looked up at him. “Is something wrong?”

His mouth drew even harder, whitening his lips and making the muscle in his jaw jump. “My blasted brother will explain. I’ll have nothing to do with this.”

John was furious. Whatever Gregor had done, clearly John didn’t agree with it.

“Gregor has returned?” She hoped she didn’t sound as relieved as she sounded.

“Aye. He’s a bastard but not a coward,” he said grudgingly—very grudgingly.

Cate had no idea what he was talking about, but something was obviously very wrong. Taking a deep breath for strength, she asked the question, “What has he done?”

John swore, dragging his fingers back through his hair the same way Gregor did when he didn’t know what to say. “It’s my fault. I didn’t realize what he was asking. I never would have told him before talking to you, if I’d known.”

“Whatever are you talking about, John? Told him what?”

“That you sent for me that morning. I didn’t think anything of it until he started acting like an arse that night, and I realized what he thought.”

Cate stared at him in confusion. “I sent for you?”

“Aye, that morning we walked in on you and Gregor … uh, in bed.”

Cate was aghast. She stood back, looking at him as if he were deranged. “I did no such thing!”

He frowned. “Pip said you had to tell me something important.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I didn’t send for you. There must be some mistake.” Suddenly her eyes widened in horror. She covered her gasp with her hand, realizing what it meant. “And you told Gregor this?”

Dear God, what he must think? What John told him
must have seemed a confirmation of Seonaid’s claim that Cate had trapped him into marriage. No wonder he’d been acting so cold.

John nodded. “Aye, he asked me how it was that I came to your room that morning, and I didn’t think anything of it. At least not until he started drinking, and …”

He left off, clearly not wanting to say what else Gregor had been doing. Flirting—
please let it only be flirting
—with those other women.

“Acting like an arse?” she finished for him.

He nodded. “I’m sorry, Cate.”

The way he was looking at her …

Her pulse spiked with trepidation. “I didn’t send for you, John. I would never try to force him into marrying me. You know that, don’t you?”

He hesitated. It was clear that like Gregor, John had thought the worst. But unlike his brother, he had some doubts. “I didn’t want to think so. I hoped there was an explanation. I told him so, but he was too angry with me—I told him I wanted to fight with Bruce, not stay here and run his clan for him.”

Cate was glad that John had found the courage to tell Gregor how he felt. But how ironic that John gave her the benefit of the doubt her betrothed would not. Yet John had never been manipulated and betrayed by a woman he cared about. John hadn’t learned to be guarded and cautious. John didn’t fear ulterior motives from every woman he met. And John hadn’t heard her in the corridor with Seonaid.

She cringed again. Oh God, how Gregor must hate her! It was a betrayal of the worst kind to him. For all that he pretended that women who set their sights on him instantly upon meeting him or turned him into a notch on the bedpost didn’t matter to him, she knew it did.

“There is an explanation,” Cate said firmly. “I’ll find Pip, and we can clear this all up.”

The hard, tight look returned to his face. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”

“What do you mean it’s too late—”

She stopped, the reason for John’s anger and odd behavior suddenly hitting her full force. She felt like she’d just been crushed under a wall of rocks.

No … No! Gregor wouldn’t …

But he would. The pain cut like a jagged knife, eviscerating her heart from her chest in one cruel slice. He’d warned her they couldn’t stay, and she hadn’t wanted to believe he could actually send them away. But his anger with her had given him all the excuse he needed. He was making it clear that they wouldn’t be a family.

The pup’s barking made horrible sense. Pip, Eddie, and baby Maddy … they were gone.

Concentrate, damn it. There is nothing wrong with you
. Gregor grabbed an arrow from where it was stuck in the ground at his feet, nocked it, drew it back, and let it loose in one smooth motion before picking up the next and the next in rapid succession.

Within seconds, he’d fired off a half-dozen arrows at as many targets that hung from a rope along the wall. All but one of the arrows had hit its mark dead center. The one that missed had done so by less than two inches. Nearly perfect. But for Gregor, two inches was as good as ten feet.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed the miss. Although they were trying not to show it, all three of his brethren were looking at him with varying degrees of concern. It had been like this all morning, except that if anything, Gregor’s shots were getting worse.

“It was a late night,” MacSorley said. “We are all tired. Hell, we probably rode thirty miles last night. Perhaps we should call it a day.”

Christ, it was so bad, MacSorley wasn’t even trying to jest.

Without a word, Gregor went to the wall to retrieve the arrows from the stuffed bags of linen marked with a black “x.”

Gregor
was
tired, and they
had
ridden most of the night—chasing shadows as it turned out, with no sign of the men who’d been in the forest—but they all knew that wasn’t why he’d missed a target that a squire would have hit. In fact, it was a training exercise Gregor had devised as a lad and used now to teach young archers.

Two days ago when he’d ridden out with his bow for the first time since returning home, he’d been flawless. Focused. His old self.

But two days ago wasn’t today. Two days ago he hadn’t known that the marriage he’d actually been looking forward to was a sham. Two days ago he hadn’t felt like ripping off someone’s head—preferably his own.

God, he couldn’t believe what a deluded fool he’d been! He’d actually thought she was different. He’d thought she really loved him,
and
for the right reasons.

But whatever the truth of her feelings, he no longer cared. He didn’t need her love, or anyone else’s for that matter. He’d had enough games, enough “traps” and boasts, to last a lifetime.

He yanked the errant arrow from the mark disgustedly. He’d missed the target for one reason and one reason only: because he couldn’t bloody concentrate. He couldn’t get himself to that place he needed to be where nothing else mattered. The narrow zone where there was only his arrow and the target.

He didn’t know why he was letting her get to him like this. Why was he still so damned angry? Why couldn’t he stop thinking about it? He shouldn’t care, damn it. She would be his wife, but that was all. She shouldn’t matter to him.

Coming home was supposed to clear his head of distractions, not make them worse. He never should have let himself
get involved with her. He should have married her off and been done with it as he’d originally planned. He had a job to do, damn it. The king was counting on him. His friends were counting on him. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let them down.

He couldn’t afford to lose his edge and let anything interfere. Not when they were so close. Which meant he had to get Cate out of his head for good. He needed to get back to the way he was before he’d been duped.

MacSorley and MacRuairi were already starting back to the barracks when Gregor returned to the line. But Campbell was waiting for him.

The revered scout didn’t say anything for a while. He just stared at him with that eerie, penetrating gaze that made you feel as if he were looking right inside you.

Suddenly, Campbell straightened, sensing her arrival moments before Cate walked around the corner. His partner was like that. He could feel things before they happened. It had come in handy more than once.

One glance at her devastated face, and Gregor knew she’d discovered what he’d done. He hardened the fool heart that felt a pang of remorse she didn’t deserve and looked back to his partner.

“Whatever is wrong between you and the lass,” Campbell said, “fix it. We need you.”

Gregor held his friend’s gaze for a moment, and then gave a determined nod. He intended to do exactly that.

Twenty-one
 

Cate barely acknowledged Campbell as she came up to stand before Gregor. Her eyes were only on him. Haunting eyes. Eyes filled with hurt, condemnation, and disbelief. Eyes that begged him to tell her she was wrong about what he’d done.

She was pulled tight as one of his bowstrings, her hands in tiny balls at her sides, her slender figure taut and straining. “Where are they?”

He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “The bairns have been returned to their rightful homes and families.”

Her fists squeezed and her lips pursed white. But it was the sheen of tears that made his chest feel too tight and his lungs feel as if they were on fire. She was projecting calm fury, but he could see the hurt and pain and knew just how close she was to losing her composure.
Don’t cry, damn it
. If she did, he didn’t know what the hell he’d do.

He shouldn’t care, damn it. She’d deceived him. Used him. Made him think she loved him for the right reasons. Made him want something he’d never wanted before. And that was something he could not forgive, no matter how remorseful or heartbroken she appeared.

“This is their rightful home. We are their family.”

The accusation in her gaze pricked his conscience, letting loose some of the anger whipping around inside him. “Neither is true. It was a fantasy you created that had no
place in reality. Those children didn’t belong here, they belong with their true family—their real blood relatives.”

She drew back, clearly surprised. “What are you talking about? They were abandoned.”

“Edward and Mathilda, yes. But both had kin eager to take them in.”

He didn’t mention the generous yearly allowance he’d offered.

“You found their relatives?” She spoke in a small, soft voice that made her sound about twelve.

“It wasn’t difficult. A few enquiries was all it took.”

She blinked, staring at him. “And then you got ‘rid’ of them.” Her voice broke, and something inside him twisted—coiled—cutting off his breath. “How could you do that, Gregor? How could you send them away without letting me say goodbye?”

He shuffled a little, unable to completely ignore the discomfort provoked by her question. She might not be able to fault him for what he’d done, but maybe she could for how he’d done it. “I thought it best to prevent a scene. What purpose would it serve to wrench weeping children from your arms? A clean break was easier on everyone.”

“Is that what you think? A clean break? At least they would have known I loved them, which was more than I ever knew. My father left without telling me, and let me tell you, there was
nothing
clean about it. What must they think? How could you do that to them? How could you take out your anger at me on them?”

“My decision had nothing to do with you.” It had to do with him. He hadn’t known whether he could go through with it if he’d had to watch. It was better for everyone this way. Those children didn’t belong here, no matter how much she wanted them to. “You knew this would happen at some point. I told you from the start.”

Her eyes shimmered with angry tears, but she couldn’t
argue with him. “And what of Pip? Was he returned to his kinsmen as well?”

This time he didn’t flinch or feel even a twinge of guilt. “There was no need. His mother was close at hand.”

She looked aghast. “You sent him back to his mother? How could you do that? God knows what she’ll make him do this time.”

His eyes narrowed. “So you were aware of the boy’s subterfuge?”

“Pip told me everything, but it is you who don’t understand. His mother forced him to do what he did, and then threatened to take him away if he didn’t give her money.”

Whether what she said was true didn’t matter. “You had no claim on them, Cate. Any of them. They didn’t belong to you.”

“I love them. It might mean nothing to you, but it means everything to me.”

“Yes, I know exactly how much your love means.” He didn’t hide his sarcasm. “You might have trapped me into marriage, but I won’t take three children from their real families to satisfy some girlish fantasy you have of the perfect family.”

He might have slapped her, so jarring was the shock of pain. But she didn’t crumple or fall apart. She just stood there staring at him, her silence somehow challenging and condemning at the same time. “I didn’t trap you, Gregor. I didn’t send for John.”

“So my brother is lying?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t say that. But I did not send Pip to fetch him. I don’t know why he did.”

“Convenient that Pip isn’t here to explain for us.”

Her cheeks flushed angrily. “Whose fault is that?”

They stared at each other in the cold, clear light of day, emotion coiling dangerously between them. And something else. Something else he wanted to deny. The fierce, frenzied attraction that didn’t differentiate between love
and hate. It flared and crackled between them. Even knowing what he knew, he wanted her still. So intensely that his hands itched to wrap around her arms and haul her against him. To cover her body. To punish her for making him fool enough to care. How could she have done this?