“I would be honored, my lady,” Arthur said with a bow of his head. “My wife will welcome the company.”
Bella nodded gratefully, hearing the sincerity in his voice.
The king stood, still holding her hand. It was as if he thought she might disappear if he let her go. She felt the heat of Lachlan’s glare and glanced in his direction. The look of predatory intent was so fierce, for a moment she thought he would pounce across the table and rip her from the king’s grasp.
But he quickly masked the emotion and looked away. Only the hard tic below his jaw betrayed his flash of anger. He was jealous.
“It’s late,” the king said. “You must be exhausted. We can speak more of this in the morning.”
The rest of the men stood and followed them out of the solar. Bella warmed herself by the fire while Sir Arthur fetched a servant to see her to her room. One by one, the men came over to bid her good night and give her some combination of a welcome home and an expression of gratitude for what she’d done. All, that is, except for Lachlan.
This should have been a joyous occasion. For what was probably the first time since she’d left Balvenie Castle nearly three years ago, she was safe.
But she didn’t feel safe, she felt lost. Even though they’d been in constant danger, hunted across the Marches and nearly imprisoned, she’d felt safe since the first time Lachlan had dragged her in the bushes and tucked her under his arm. He’d been her tether, the constant by her side, and without him it felt as if she were flailing in a storm-tossed sea. She’d come to …
Rely on him.
She was trying to concentrate on Sir Alex, thanking him for his part in her rescue, when out of the corner of her eye she noticed Lachlan speaking with the king.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” she said to the handsome young knight.
Sir Alex took her hand and gave her a gallant bow. “It was my honor, my lady. I only wish it could have come sooner.”
She nodded. She did as well.
She would have said something else, but her attention was diverted to the opposite side of the room. Lachlan and Robert had finished their brief conversation and Lachlan had started to walk away.
Leaving. Without saying a word.
She didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t be doing this. God, would she ever see him again?
Her heart lurched. A hard spike of panic rushed through her veins. Silently, she begged him to turn around. Look at me. Don’t leave.
He kept walking. And somehow she knew if she let him go it would be too late.
“Pardon me,” she said hastily to Sir Alex and darted after Lachlan.
She was aware the other men were watching but didn’t care. Fear had swallowed her pride. “Wait! Lachlan, wait!”
He was nearly at the corridor when he came to an abrupt stop. Slowly, he turned around, his expression dark and forbidding as he watched her approach. He held himself stiffly—remotely—as if the distance between them were already insurmountable.
Aware of the eyes on them, Bella felt the heat rush to her cheeks. What had she intended to say? “Would you leave without saying goodbye?”
His jaw hardened at the subtle accusation in her voice. “It’s over, Bella.” Emotion twisted in her chest; he wasn’t referring to the mission. “I’ve said everything that needed to be said.”
If he’d been able to meet her gaze, the harshness of his tone might have discouraged her. “Have you?” She let the question hang before adding, “When will you go?”
“Soon.”
The cold response cut like a knife. Why was he doing this? Stay … Fight.
“I don’t want you to leave,” she blurted.
He stilled, every muscle in his body drawn as tight as a bow. His eyes dipped to hers, two hard slits of piercing green. “What in the hell do you want from me, Bella?” The harshness of his voice took her aback. “An affair? Marriage?”
Her eyes widened. Marriage. Was that what she wanted? To be another man’s chattel? To put herself at the mercy of another man when she’d just been freed? Could she ever trust a man enough to give him that kind of power over her?
Her heart started to beat very fast. She couldn’t think. “I … I don’t know.”
She hadn’t realized he’d been holding her arm until he dropped it. Her heart clenched at his stony expression; it felt as if she’d just failed an unspoken test. Had her hesitation hurt him? He’d caught her by surprise. He’d never hinted at a future, let alone one so permanent.
So conventional.
“You’ve been through a lot. It’s not surprising that you would get overly attached. I tried to warn you. But it was my mistake. I thought you could handle it.” He leaned down, his face cruelly mocking. “But just because you come a few times, it doesn’t mean you’re in love.”
Bella sucked in her breath, feeling as if he’d just slapped her. Nay, not slapped her, something worse. Pitied her. Mocked her. For daring to try to care about him. For daring to think she could actually count on him. She’d taken a chance. She’d told him she wanted him to stay, and he’d thrown it back in her face.
Her cheeks heated with hurt and indignation. To hell with him! Nothing was worth this. She’d had enough cruelty in her life. She deserved more than this. She deserved someone who cared about her.
For years she’d been valued only for her body. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—let that happen again. If he didn’t want her, didn’t want to give them a chance, then that was the way it would be.
She was done making excuses for him.
She drew herself up, every inch the proud, disdainful countess. She’d had years of practice hiding her feelings, and she relied on every one of them right now. “Love?” She let out a brittle tinkle of laughter. “The thought never crossed my mind. I could never love someone like you. The man I give my heart to will be worthy of my love and be capable of loving me back. He won’t be a mean, heartless bastard who would turn his back on his clan, friends, and country. It’s no wonder that your wife left you, you’re an—”
“That’s enough,” he growled. His eyes bit into her, his handsome face stark. “I think you’ve said enough.”
She gasped, unable to breathe through the pain burning in her chest.
She’d done it. She’d finally managed to hurt him. But it gave her precious little satisfaction as she stood there frozen, feeling as if she were breaking apart, and watched him walk away.
Eighteen
Dunstaffnage Castle, November, 1308
“You’re sure you won’t reconsider?” Bruce eyed Lachlan over the edge of his goblet. They were alone in the laird’s solar of Dunstaffnage Castle. It was four weeks since Lachlan had been here last, and yet he could still hear the scorn in Bella’s voice as she’d given him the set down he so richly deserved.
She was right: She did deserve better. He’d been trying to tell her that all along.
Marriage? What in Hades had possessed him to say that? Of course she’d hesitated. It wasn’t her fault that for one moment he’d allowed himself to think …
He was a fool. The heroine didn’t end up with the pirate. She needed a hero, not a villain. No wonder she’d laughed. He’d laugh, too.
Lachlan picked up his own glass and drained it. But the whisky did little to dull the burning ache in his chest.
He met the king’s gaze from across the table. Though idly spoken, Lachlan knew the question was anything but an idle one. Robert the Bruce would keep his promise, but if there was a way he could honorably avoid doing so, he would.
Lachlan smiled just as idly. “Nay,” he said with far more certainty than he felt. “I will not reconsider.”
He’d left, needing to get away before he did something stupid. The exchange with Bella had left him angry, raw, his emotions frayed, unable to escape the gnawing feeling that he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life.
The time away was supposed to clear his mind. It hadn’t. But as soon as Bruce paid him the rest of the mo
ney and signed the charters, he’d be on his way. It was why he’d returned. The king was holding his first council meeting at Ardchattan after the Feast of St. Andrew.
Hell, who was he kidding? That wasn’t why he’d returned. He didn’t need to be here for another week. He’d come back because he couldn’t force himself to stay away a day longer.
He needed to make sure that she was all right.
He needed to know whether he’d made as big a mistake as he feared.
Not that it would make any difference. She would probably just tell him to go to hell the way he deserved. Now that she was safe, she’d undoubtedly realized that she didn’t need him anymore. If she ever had.
Bruce’s dark brows drew together in a scowl. “You are costing me a king’s ransom. I hope you are putting it to good use.”
Lachlan shrugged, having no intention of easing the king’s curiosity. Nor would he feel guilt. He knew the king’s coffers were depleted, but they would be filled up soon enough. “I thought your brother just returned from the south.”
Edward Bruce, Sir James Douglas, Boyd, and Seton had led a party of warriors to collect the rents.
“Aye, but once again there is unrest in Galloway. I thought the resistance was put down last year, but the MacDowells and their allies are like weeds that refuse to die. I’m sending Edward back with reinforcements.” The king watched him carefully. “The MacSweens are making trouble again, too. I have Chief and Hawk preparing the men to go on a moment’s notice if they stir from Ireland. I’ve decided to put Hawk in charge of getting the team in and out—”
“Hawk? He’s about as subtle as a battering ram. He’ll get them all killed.”
“It’s only until we find a replacement for you. I was thinking perhaps my nephew—”
“Randolph?” Lachlan was incredulous. Sir Thomas Randolph, one of the most elite warriors in Scotland? “You can’t be serious! He knows nothing about subterfuge. Half the time he has that sword stuck so firmly up his backside—”
He stopped himself. Damn it. His jaw clenched, knowing exactly what Bruce was trying to do. But Lachlan wouldn’t bite. It wasn’t his problem, and he wasn’t going to get dragged into it. He had everything he wanted right at his fingertips.
“But I’m sure he’ll figure it out,” he added calmly.
Bruce lifted a corner of his mouth, but he didn’t press. “I’d have thought you’d look more rested.”
Lachlan quirked a brow.
Bruce tapped his fingers together. “After your time in the Isles attending to those personal matters you spoke of. Although I must say I’m surprised to see you. I wasn’t expecting you for another week.”
Lachlan’s expression betrayed nothing, but he knew the king had guessed what had brought him back. “My plans changed.”
Bruce wasn’t fooled. “You look like hell. You might want to shave and clean up before you see Lady Isabella.”
Lachlan stiffened at the mention of her name. “Why would I do that?”
Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “I assumed it was for her that you went to Berwick.” He slammed his goblet down and leaned across the table, all pretense of equanimity gone. “Damn it, Viper, I’d have thought you would have learned your lesson. I told you to lie low and stay clear of danger for a while, which doesn’t include going on some rogue mission of vengeance, no matter how well warranted. To bloody England again?”
Lachlan’s mouth curved into a sly smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I don’t think it’s any coincidence that a half-dozen men were killed in a strange attack at Berwick Castle a few weeks ago, including Bella’s former jailor, who was found naked and hanging from the cage where she was kept.”
He shrugged unrepentantly. “Sounds like divine justice to me.”
“Don’t you mean Highland justice?” Bruce scowled. “But how the hell did you get him to walk up there—” He stopped himself. “Never mind, I don’t think I want to know.” Bruce took another swig from his goblet. “You are lucky I still intend to uphold my side of our deal.”
This time it was Lachlan who leaned over the table. “What are you talking about? I’ve kept my side of the bargain.”
“Have you?” Bruce quirked a brow in challenge. “You agreed to be my man for three years, which means following orders. Something you seem to have a problem doing.”
“I don’t recall any orders.”
Bruce’s mouth thinned into a tight line. “You are trying my patience, Viper. Let me be perfectly clear: I don’t want you anywhere near England or the Marches for a long time. I won’t have the identities of my men jeopardized for any reason. Even a good one. Do you understand?”
“My service is finished,” Lachlan pointed out. He didn’t have to follow anyone’s orders.
“Almost finished,” Bruce corrected. “The council meeting isn’t for another week.”
Lachlan’s jaw clenched.
“And I am still your king.” Bruce sank back in his chair, with the generous smile of a man who’d won his point. “Don’t worry, you will have your money and your island soon enough. Though what you’re going to do with it all alone in the middle of nowhere, I don’t know.”
“Nothing,” Lachlan said. That was the point, wasn’t it? Peace. Solitude. No one to answer to. No one to be responsible for. A place to call his own. It sounded like heaven.
Didn’t it?
His chest burned tighter.
She would expect him to stay. To fight. To bind himself to her and the cause. But he didn’t believe in anything, damn it. She expected too damned much. She didn’t even know what she wanted from him. Maybe nothing.
Damn it, why the hell was he thinking about this?
“Will you stay for Templar’s wedding?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“He’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
Surprisingly, Lachlan wanted to, but in some ways he suspected it would be easier if he didn’t. A clean break was what he needed.
Wasn’t it?
“And what of Lady Isabella?”
Lachlan tensed almost imperceptibly. Almost, but he suspected the king had seen it. Still, he couldn’t prevent the anxious spike of his heartbeat. “She’s well?”
“Well enough.” A wry smile turned the king’s mouth. “Better than you, from the looks of it.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” At least he should be. But part of him had hoped … what, that she’d been suffering the way he had?
“She’s concerned for her daughter, of course,” Bruce added.
Not my problem. But he found himself asking anyway, “Do you plan to send the team after her?”
Bruce shook his head. “Nay, the girl is safe enough where she is—”
They heard voices outside right before the door burst open. Lachlan’s heart stopped when he recognized one of them.
“Damn,” Bruce cursed under his breath, echoing Lachlan’s thoughts.
Lachlan’s reluctance to see her was understandable, but the king’s was not. He frowned, wondering if something had happened between them.
“Robert, I—” She startled like a deer in the hunter’s sights when she saw Lachlan.
He steeled himself, but it wasn’t enough to prepare him for the gash of pain that dug across his chest when their eyes met.
A month hadn’t been nearly long enough to clear his head. He realized a lifetime wouldn’t be long enough.
Bella’s heart lurched. Her blood, her thoughts, her voice, everything drained from her body. Except for her heart. That throbbed painfully.
After a month it shouldn’t hurt so much. But seeing him again brought all those wounded emotions rushing back in full force.
“You’re back,” she said dumbly.
He stood up. “For the council meeting.”
Of course. She hadn’t expected anything different, had she? Her chest pinched. Only a fool would think he would have changed his mind
and that she hadn’t been the only one suffering these past weeks. She’d missed him so much.
Though he did look more disheveled and exhausted than she’d ever seen him. His hair was longer and one long, wavy lock slumped forward across his forehead. The hard, lean angles of his handsome face seemed sharper and even more predatory. A couple of weeks’ dark stubble lined his jaw. Most surprising, however, was the layer of dust and grime that coated the leather of his cotun. She’d never seen him so unkempt. He looked as though he’d just dragged himself back from the battlefield. He was back to his ruffian ways, no doubt.
It infuriated her that it only seemed to make him more attractive. Weren’t women supposed to be attracted to shining armor? How did he make rough, rugged, and gritty so appealing?
It didn’t matter. She was done being a fool. He’d made his feelings—or lack thereof—painfully clear.
He’d left her. He didn’t care enough.
“I wasn’t expecting him for another week,” Robert added.
She might not have attached any significance to the information had she not caught the sharp look Lachlan threw the king. Her heart leapt. Did it mean something? Had he come back for her?
God, she was doing it again. Looking for hidden meanings when the truth was plain to see. Would she ever learn?
She forced her thoughts back to the letter in her hand. “I’m sorry to disturb you. I can wait outside if you aren’t finished.”
“Is there a problem, Bella?” the king asked.
Bella nodded, tears filling her eyes, despite Lachlan’s presence. “Aye, it’s my daughter.”
Lachlan took a step toward her. “What’s—”
“That will be all, MacRuairi,” Robert stopped him. “I will send for you if I need you.”
It was almost as if Robert didn’t want him to hear what she had to say. For a moment, it looked as if Lachlan might argue. But after a long pause, he nodded.
“Don’t forget what I said,” Robert added as he turned to leave.
Lachlan’s mouth tightened, and he gave the king a curt nod before bestowing an equally curt bow on her. “My lady. I—” He hesitated. “We can speak later.”