Highland Lover (31 page)

foolish innocence. It would probably pass with time and the memories would grow beautiful again,

undoubtedly tinged with a bit of melancholy for things lost, but right now she tried her best not to

remember one single moment of their passion.

“Did ye have a pleasant journey?” she asked as he sat down in the chair facing her before the

fireplace.

The way his eyes narrowed at the cool, polite tone she used made her feel better. Alana knew it was

probably petty of her to gain some satisfaction from being able to annoy him, but she did not care.

He had left her here to wallow in her own pain and fury for six days, side by side with a woman he

had courted and who claimed she was his betrothed. If he had been anxious to explain things to her

or sort out what he had claimed was a misunderstanding, it would seem he could have stayed at

Scarglas and put some effort into it.

“My journey was pleasant enough,” he replied, “although I sorely missed my usual companion.”

“Ah, such a shame, but I felt Charlemagne needed a respite from travel.”

Alana could get nasty when she was angry, Gregor thought, torn between an urge to grin and one to

give her a little shake. Now that he thought on it, their time with the Gowans should have warned

him of that. She had slapped those men with the sharp side of her tongue many times. He would

accept it as his penance for his mistakes, but only for a little while. He knew he had hurt her even if he did not know how deeply or badly, and he could understand that she would feel a need to try and

hurt him back. It could also be her way to keep him at a distance, but she would find that did not

work for long.

“Where is the cat?” he asked, looking around for the animal that had never strayed far from her side.

“Your sons have taken a liking to him and Charlemagne is gracing them with his presence.”

Gregor felt himself blush and inwardly cursed. He had not anticipated that she would slap him in

the face with one of his lies quite so quickly. Although, he mused, it was not really a lie, but he

suspected trying to explain how he had forgotten them because he had been thinking about the

problem with Mavis would not endear him to her. In truth, he was a little embarrassed about that

himself.

“Ah, that is good.” And now he was apparently reduced to stuttering out polite idiocies, he thought.

“Do ye wish to ken how your sister is?” Even more idiotic, he mused, not surprised when she

looked at him as if he had been beaten on the head once too often.

“Aye, how is Keira?”

She sat up very straight with her hands folded in her lap, just as she had been taught to do since

childhood. It was the way one sat when meeting guests, and Alana suspected Gregor knew it, if his

scowl was any indication. If he thought she would be all smiles and soft welcome just because

Mavis had run off with Brian, he had another thing coming. He would be treated as no more than an

acquaintance until he gave her very good reason to treat him otherwise.

“She is fine,” he said. “That sorrow ye feel could be from the hurt done to Ardgleann and its people.

He treated the lasses there as his own private stable, he and his men. Took them away from their

homes and families and held them in the keep for their own amusement. They dinnae fault her, but I

think she still blames herself for nay coming to their aid sooner than she did. Ah, and there was

damage done to some of the beautiful things Ardgleann seems to abound with. All the food stores

and livestock were tossed down the gullets of the men and the fields werenae planted on time. Aye,

there are a lot of things there that could bring her sorrow, although things are improving.”

It took a moment for Alana to shake aside the horror she had felt over what the women of

Ardgleann had been forced to endure. She could understand how Keira would feel it was her fault

because she had not returned to oust the invader almost immediately. Alana suspected she would

feel the same no matter how foolish it was to do so. For a moment she concentrated on all she had

felt concerning her sister and then slowly shook her head.

“Aye, that is the way of it. There is the weight of an unearned guilt upon her heart, but there is more.

I truly believe there is something wrong with her marriage.”

“Nay, Alana, there isnae anything wrong. There is just a wee bit of, weel, unease. Some matters

must be settled between her and Liam, but nay more than that. Liam truly cares for her, but she

remains unconvinced, or so he believes. As ye have said yourself, he is a mon most women find

beautiful and your sister is troubled by that. They but need time to learn about each other and for

her to believe that he willnae play her false with another woman, nay matter how foolishly that

woman may pursue him.”

“Ah, like the one who came to the monastery, the one who had him beaten because she was

jealous.”

“Exactly. The people of Ardgleann already trust him and look to him as their laird. Can ye nay take

some comfort in their opinion of the mon?”

“Some, aye, but I still feel the need to see Keira.”

“Soon. Let her and Liam have time to settle things between them. She didnae appear truly unhappy

with him and showed no resentment o’er everyone looking to him as the new laird e’en though

Ardgleann was bequeathed to her. He openly marks her as his equal in all things, sending people to

her for some of the decisions.”

Alana was heartily pleased by that and saw it as very promising. Although she understood that

marriages were often made with an eye to a gain in land or purse or an alliance, Keira had not

needed to make such a match. She had wondered if Liam had been mercenary in his pursuit of her

sister. That he shared the power of the laird’s place made it seem far more probable that he had

married her sister for more reasons than her inheritance.

She suddenly noticed that Gregor had leaned forward in his chair and was looking at her intently.

He was obviously finished telling her the news from Ardgleann. She had relaxed with him as they

had discussed Liam and Keira and she fleetingly wondered if that had been his intention. The

expression in his eyes told her he was about to try and discuss them, and she was not sure she was

quite ready for that.

“Alana, I ken ye think I but played some game with ye, using ye when I had no right to,” he said,

taking one of her hands in his and ignoring her brief effort to tug it free.

“Ye should have told me about Mavis, told me that ye were a betrothed mon.”

“But I wasnae betrothed. Aye, I courted her. I decided it was time I ceased playing about with

women I couldnae remember from one day to the next and get me a wife. Most men reach an age

when they start to think like that. I heard about Mavis Kerr and went to see if she would suit me.

She had land and a nice fat purse, and I am sorry if that sounds callous, but ’tis what most men

think on when they go looking about for a wife. I did court her, but I never became betrothed to her.

Aye, it was all done with a marriage in the offing, but naught had been promised or signed.”

“So why did she need to be kept some great dark secret?”

“In the beginning I didnae think it was of any importance. I had already decided I couldnae marry

her, that tempting though her dowry was, I couldnae feel any more than a mild affection for her.

While I sat alone in the dark at the Gowans’, I realized I didnae want to tie myself for life to a

woman I could only, weel, like.”

“All that is verra understandable, so I ask again, why couldnae ye tell me about it? Why say naught

e’en after we had become lovers? At that point it did become my business, didnae it?”

He dragged his hand through his hair. This was going to be difficult. He did not want to tell her how he had been more or less judging her suitability as his wife, testing his own feelings to be certain

they were strong enough to take her as his wife. If it sounded callous to him, and it did, it was

certain to offend her. He would not like to hear that she had been judging him in a like manner.

“Aye, it did,” he said. “By the time we were lovers, however, I kenned ye weel enough that I was

sure ye wouldnae come to my bed again until I had ended the tenuous relationship with the Kerrs.

Selfish bastard that I am, I didnae want ye to step back, right out of my bed. I thought I could get

here and then quietly settle matters with the Kerrs. When ye told me what your father was about, I

ken weel that it was the perfect time to tell ye about Mavis, but there was that fear that ye would

leave my bed, and it choked the words right off.”

That was flattering in a way, but Alana tried not to be swayed by it. She might like the reasons he

did not tell her, but that did not change the fact that he had lied to her. There were some other,

murky reasons for his silence about Mavis, she was sure of it, but she did not press him. They did

not really matter and she suspected his reasons for being silent had changed over the days they had

been together.

“Come, love, can ye nay understand? I didnae want to lose your warmth.” He sighed when she just

frowned. “And when we got here and there stood Mavis, her father loudly claiming us betrothed, it

stunned me. Aye, stunned me as if someone had just slapped me in the head with a rock. I couldnae

think of what to say and I didnae want to humiliate Mavis by decrying her in front of my family.

She wasnae at fault in any of this and I had raised her expectations, so I felt honor bound to be as

gentle and quiet about it all as I could be. It and the fact that I had hurt ye, made ye believe

everything we had shared was a lie, left me as unsteady as I have e’er felt. I fixed my mind on

gently removing Mavis and all talk of betrothal. Now I see that, by doing so, I made ye think I truly was just a bastard who used ye and walked away.”

“That did pass through my mind,” she murmured.

“All I could think of was removing Mavis and then I felt ye and I could settle matters, but that we

couldnae settle anything until Mavis understood that there would be no marriage. ’Tis as if I blinded myself to anything and everything else but ending this connection to the Kerrs first. If ye would

have let me explain—” he began.

“I might have, but Mavis didnae seem inclined to leave ye alone long enough for ye to convince me

that there was a reason for what ye had done and that ye werenae just some lecherous cur.” She

ignored his expression, which was an odd mixture of amused and irritated, and stood up. “So, ye

have explained and I have listened. Now I need to think. It will take me a while to decide if I can

e’er trust a mon who would forget to mention he had two bastard children, especially when they are

such bright, handsome wee lads, and decide that his lover didnae need to ken that some other

woman felt she had a claim to him. And a mon who ne’er once hinted at exactly what he wants

from me.”

Gregor stood up and pulled her into his arms, ignoring the way she tensed. He kissed her with all

the passion that had gone unfed for nearly a week as well as all the desperation he still felt. She

quickly softened in his arms, and he took some hope from that sign that she had not turned

completely cold toward him. Knowing how easily he could be stirred to the point of pushing her too

far and too fast, he released her and walked to the door. He opened it and stepped out of the solar,

looking at her over his shoulder.

“As for what I want from ye? ’Tis quite simple, lass—everything. I want everything ye have to

give.” He softly shut the door behind him as he left.

Chapter 19

“What happened to him?” Alana asked Fiona as she entered the solar to find the woman putting

salve on the bruised face of Gregor’s half brother James.

“Gregor doesnae take kindly to being teased about his wooing skills,” drawled Fiona as she wiped

her hands and frowned at young James. “Leave the poor mon be, Jamie.”

James grinned as he started to leave, but he paused by Alana and whispered, “Have mercy on the

poor lad, mistress.”

Alana sighed as he left, and then looked at Fiona. The expression on the woman’s face told Alana

she was facing a lecture. It had been a fortnight since Gregor had explained himself and told her he

wanted everything. It had taken Alana but a few days to realize he really meant everything—

including marriage. She did not know why she was being so hesitant to accept him. Alana began to

think she was afraid, the memory of the pain she had felt when she had thought him betrothed to

another woman making her too cautious. There was also the chance that she had not really forgiven

him, at least not enough to trust in him again.

“How are ye feeling this morning?” Fiona asked.

“Quite weel,” Alana replied as she moved to sit in the chair near the fire. “I didnae feel a single

twinge or ache when I rose from my bed this morning.”

That was the truth, but not the complete truth, Alana thought as she tried not to feel guilty. She had not felt any remaining pain from her wounds. She had, however, found it a little painful to have to

scramble for a pot to empty her belly in. The way Fiona watched her as she sat down in the seat

across from her nearly made Alana wriggle in her chair. Her mind told her that there was no way

Fiona could know what ailed her now, yet that steady gaze made Alana think the truth was written