Authors: Christine Young
"I was a fool, still am a fool…Lady Anna," he said bitterly. All women are cut from the same cloth," he mumbled. A woman would sell her soul to the highest bidder.
"What?" Hawke asked.
"Did that thieving, treasonous whore…sell out to Jericho? What did she get in return? Most likely a stay in Bertram's bed."
Before Hawke could give Slade an answer, he passed out again, blackness swirling within his mind as if he'd fallen into a vortex.
After she'd heard Slade's words, Lainie wished she could have done the same. She stumbled as though the ground had been taken away from beneath her feet, just as the slide had taken the ground away from Slade's feet.
Lachlan caught her as she started to fall.
"Easy, lass," he said kindly. "You've been through more than anyone should have to go through. And I’ll have his head on a pole for those words."
She shook her head and said nothing, as tears formed behind her eyes. Tears she didn't want to cry but knew she would.
"Who's this Anna, lass?" Hawke asked Lainie.
"Someone he knew a long time ago. Someone who hurt him so badly, he's never forgiven her," Lainie said as Lachlan set her on her feet.
"Who is the thieving treasonous whore?"
"I am," Lainie said tonelessly.
Abruptly, Hawke realized his words about Lainie going to Jericho had been misunderstood by Slade. And he realized this misunderstanding might be for the best. He didn't want to hurt Slade, but if Slade had caused Lainie any pain, he would have to kill him.
"Slade's been through a tough time. When he wakes up, I'll tell him the truth. If you want me to," he said.
"It doesn't matter what you tell him. He will always believe what he wants to about me. He cannot see beyond the pain the Lady Anna caused him." Lainie said turning away. "He doesn’t believe in love or that a woman can be loyal to anything or anyone save herself."
"Lainie," Hawke said softly. "Wait."
She shook her head and kept walking.
Everything that mattered to Lainie had already been said. Slade might have enjoyed her company, might have been gentle with her, might have shared the most intense kind of passion with her, but he didn't love her. She wasn't going to stay and hear his thoughts about her. She'd thought she'd convinced him that she was different from other women.
She hadn't.
He never would change his mind about her. Love required trust, and Slade would never forget that Lainie had stolen from him, and had lied about who and what she was.
What mattered now was despite everything that had happened between them, he had managed to erase the feel of Bertram's hands on her. For that one thing, she would be forever grateful to Slade, and perhaps she could get on with the rest of her life.
While the others hovered around Slade, Lainie found a safe way down to the stream and washed the mud from every bit of her, and while she did, she wished she could wash away the memories of Slade and the passion he made her feel when he made love to her.
But she couldn't. This short time with Aaron Slade would stay with her forever. It would haunt her nights as well as her days.
Aaron Slade had changed her life irrevocably.
With a calm that came from a loss so deep it numbed her ability to feel pain, Lainie pulled on her only remaining clothing. The dress she’d worn in the tavern the night she'd met Slade. She held it up to the light. An old day dress had seen better times. But now that she was on MacPherson land, she would wear the dress and pretend for a while she was a lady born and not Slade's plaything.
Mechanically she went about her preparations to leave. At last she'd come to recognize the countryside. She knew the way home. She would leave her brothers and Lachlan to take care of Slade, and she would go home where she might find a small measure of peace--a peace she'd been searching for, for so long she wasn't sure she would ever find it. But she meant to try. She found her horse and mounted.
Hawke saw what she was doing. Lainie nodded to him and whispered she was going home then she gazed at Slade one last time, and wiped the last tear she meant to shed for any man from her eyes. Hawke nodded back as if he sensed her pain and the loss.
Abruptly Hawke stood up and went over to her.
"I could stop you," he said. "I'm not sure it is safe, lass, but you are on MacPherson land."
She nodded. "But you won't"
"I won't. Are you really going home?" he asked.
She shrugged. "Aye." She didn't want to tell him she'd needed to go some place where she would feel safe, and where she could hide from anyone who wanted to talk to her.
"You're not going without me," Hawke said.
"I don't need anyone," Lainie said bitterly. "I haven't needed anyone for a long time. And I don't want anyone. Hawke, all I want is to be left alone."
"Sweet Jesu, what has happened to you? Like it or not, I'm going with you. I wanted to get back to Callie as soon as possible. Ian and Lachlan can take care of Slade."
Hawke stalked off. His horse was still saddled. In one easy motion he was astride and riding toward Lainie.
Lainie didn't spend anytime waiting for him. She spun her horse toward MacPherson castle and rode north. Ian and Lachlan must have heard because they looked up just as she turned and took one last look at the Englishman who taught her about passion but not about love--a man who had given her so much joy but more pain than she thought she could bear.
Hawke caught up to her just before she rode from the trees and onto a meadow of emerald green grass that seemed to stretch on forever. He rode up beside her. "I think you've got some explaining to do."
Lainie tucked her lower lip behind her teeth and kept riding.
"Lainie MacPherson," Hawke said, still riding abreast of his sister.
"I'm not explaining myself to anyone, big brother," she said. "All I owe you is a thank you for rescuing Slade. You're going to have to live with that."
"Well, then I will apologize for what I told Slade."
"You don't need to apologize. Nothing happened between us that should concern you."
"Slade will be fine then he'll ride north. He'll want some answers, just as I do. Lainie, he won't let this rest."
Lainie's heart was the saddest it had ever been. Her laugh was
brittle,
hardened by knowledge she'd never wanted to learn.
"Aye, I'm sure he'll be fine. But he won't ride north and he thinks he has all the answers."
"Of course he will," Hawke said.
The compassion in Hawke's steel gray eyes made Lainie want to laugh and cry at the same time. She rode toward Slade, stopping for a moment. She pulled out the document she'd thought she'd kept hidden from Slade. She knew now that he most likely knew about it, had read it and chose not to let her know. She tossed the phony document at Slade. The white parchment landed on Slade's chest.
"You're still the best big brother any lass could ask for," Lainie said huskily. "And very wrong. Slade knew exactly what he was saying. He's said it often enough before."
Lainie looked back again, and then spurred her horse forward. It was the last time she would look at the Englishman.
Chapter Nineteen
Slade had never felt as miserable and as alone as he did at this moment. He sat in a daze, watching the heather and the grass move in the slight breeze that came from the north. Today was the first day in several his head didn't pound, and the swaying bushes he saw were really swaying and not caused by the dizziness in his head. The nausea had subsided but the pain of betrayal had not.
It wasn't the loneliness that bothered Slade, or the raw pain that ripped through his heart. It was thinking about a girl who had abandoned him as easily as she had stolen from him. When he had asked about Hawke, Lachlan told him Hawke had taken Lainie to MacPherson castle. Slade didn't mention her name again. Neither did anyone else. The interrogation he had expected from her brother and Lachlan never materialized.
The memories of Lainie were bittersweet, but he couldn't erase them from his head. And he refused to acknowledge the sweet times he had spent with Lainie because the grief that ripped through him with the recollections were more than he could tolerate. Now even the remembrance of their shared passion was so painful he chose to sweep it from his mind.
Yet the pain did not subside.
Approached Jericho. Bartered with Jericho. Tried to sell
herself
…
Eventually Slade became aware of Ian standing nearby, watching him with knowing silent eyes.
"Sure would be nice if you told me what happened between you and Lainie. I wouldn't have to skewer you through if I liked what you said, and it sure might shed some light on why she left so abruptly--and with tears in her eyes."
Slade grunted but didn't acknowledge Ian's not so subtle query.
The look in Ian's eyes was a warning any man other than Slade would have paid attention to. Slade didn't heed the warning because he was itching for a fight that would have him thinking about something other than Lainie and hoping it would make the pain go away.
Ian hunkered down next to Slade. "I've been waiting impatiently until your concussion and physical pain no longer hazed over your eyes. Looks like my waiting is over, Englishman."
Once again, Slade grunted. "My head doesn't pound."
I don't think my pain will ever go away. So have your way with me, Ian MacPherson.
"Good. I wanted to be sure you ken what I'm about to tell you. We were all real worried about you when all that mud covered you."
The look Slade gave the younger MacPherson brother didn't invite conversation. Ian ignored it and kept talking.
"Well, the story ripped through the lowlands. An Englishman called Slade, and
a lass
, with the palest white-blond hair anyone ever saw and eyes the color of the summer sky were headed toward Edinburgh. The lass had to be Lainie MacPherson. And it was also rumored there was a bounty on her head."
Slade's heart flinched at the mention of Lainie, but he didn't say anything. He'd expected to be drawn and quartered by the MacPherson brothers. Just because it hadn’t happened yet, didn’t mean it wouldn’t.
"When we arrived in Edinburgh Lainie wasn't there. I was talking to Bertram with my big brother when I heard you had been in a tight spot with Jericho and his mercenaries forcing you into some pretty rough terrain," Ian said. "I was afraid for my little sister."
"That's right," Slade
said,
his voice tight.
"After we convinced Bertram the charges against Lainie were phony, we got out of the city as fast as we could and discovered you'd done some pretty fancy maneuverings. Strategy that sent Jericho packing."
Slade felt the chill of Ian's eyes. "It was a close call."
"That's what Hawke said when he studied your trail. Neither one of wanted to see our sister pinned down like that. We never want to see her hurt again. Too much has happened to her. So, Aaron Slade, what did you do to my sister? She only runs when the pain she feels is too much for her to cope with."
Slade looked away from the big man who was asking questions he didn't want to give the answers to, not because he was afraid but because they were private. If Lainie wanted to tell the MacPhersons what they shared then so be it, but he wasn't about to. Right now, he was having a devil of a time trying to forget the times when he had laughed and breathed in the heady fragrance of roses from Lainie's skin, her hair,
her
breasts. Even now, the thought of Lainie made him harden with the need and the raw hunger he felt was unbearable.
"Seems I've got instructions to bring you home with me," Ian paused. "If there is a reason to think Lainie might be with child…"
Slade flinched again. Though he should shake off Ian's question, he was always careful. But the truth was, he'd wanted Lainie so intensely, he'd thrown precaution to the wind. Lainie could be carrying his child.
"So what is it?" Ian asked sardonically. "Appears you've had a pretty sweet deal since you picked Lainie up at the tavern. You've used her and now you're tossing her away? Is that right, Englishman?"
"Why don't you ask her about it?" Slade said. "I'm sure she'll weave a pretty interesting story."
"My brother is probably asking her right now."
Slade's mouth thinned. "She's got fast hands and a quick mind. She'll tell you what she wants you to know. She doesn't need anyone's protection."
No ones protection but mine.
Fool you gave up that right.
Ian pretended not to notice the derogatory undertones of Slade's words.
"We talked to Bertram. Almost killed the man. But Hawke convinced the good general his health would be much better if he was reassigned to London. Lainie no longer need fear Bertram. So, if my hunch is right, Lainie is running from the likes of you."
Slade barely heard. He was too busy trying to shut out the memories of Lainie from his head. The memories haunted Slade, reminding him of everything he wanted to forget.
"Then we met up with Jericho and his mercenaries just before the guards were changed," Ian continued. "No sooner had Hawke taken care of them than he heard someone go by. Turned out it was our little sister, on her way to spy on Jericho's camp."
Slade jerked and started to rise.
Ian uncoiled. A single swift motion of his foot brought the Englishman down. The blow was as much a surprise as it was exact.
Slade looked at Ian in shock.
"Calm yourself, Englishman," Slade said flatly. "If I wanted to kill you, it would be done."
"I'm calm and I'm waiting for you to stop talking. I'm waiting for the first punch. Maybe the pain will help me forget her treachery."
"Nothing is going to happen until I've had my say. You want to fight about it. You go right ahead. I'll beat you and you know it."
Slade just rubbed his jaw and eyed Ian warily wondering where he'd learned a move like that.
"I'll teach you how to move like I just did, if I like your explanation when I'm done and if you listen real hard," Ian said.
Slade looked into the icy gray eyes that asked for retribution but waited patiently to find out what had happened. Slade wasn't going to tell Lainie's brother anything. Ian could wait a lifetime.
Ian backed away with a lazy motion and sat on his heels. The appearance of being relaxed didn't fool Slade. If he showed any sign of getting up again, he would be brought down just as swiftly as he had been the first time.
"Hawke found Lainie before Jericho saw her," Ian said. "Seems the lass had some foolish idea about taking Jericho at sword point and offering him the bounty on her head if his men dug you out."
"Is that what she told your brother?"
Ian nodded a grim smile etched across his chiseled features.
"And he believed her?" Slade asked sarcastically. "He doesn't know his little sister very well."
Ian shrugged his shoulders and shifted his position slightly. "Watch what you say Englishman. You best remember you're talking to a MacPherson. We defend our own. Right now, any issues you have with my
sister,
will be negotiated between the two of us."
Slade squared his shoulders and a mockery of a smile curved his lips. "I don't care what happens to me. Do your worst, MacPherson. She's a liar and a whore and you should know she takes too much enjoyment in picking pockets to stay home for long. The emotions she showing you are a ruse."
“You must have a death wish, Englishman.” Ian's hands fisted and for an instant, Slade thought Ian would knock him unconscious again. It would be a blissful moment of peace if he could escape into the blackness he'd just come from.
“I’m just stating the truth.”
"You're not listening very well, Englishman."
"And you're not telling me anything worth listening to, Scotsman."
Ian grunted his displeasure.
"Marriage has softened your brother's head as well as yours. Your sister was going to trade for her life, not mine," Slade said sardonically.
"The less you say the fewer words I'm going to have to make you eat," Ian growled low in his throat. "But don't let that stop you. I'm going to enjoy every moment I see you groveling."
Slade's eyes narrowed into slits, but he closed his mouth. He was in no shape to take on this Scotsman, no matter how badly he wanted to. Both of them knew it.