Authors: Diana Cosby

His Destiny (27 page)

BOOK: His Destiny

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“My thanks, my lady,” Emma whispered.

Alexander’s wife stepped inside. “Once Patrik awakens, I will explain that you have left, and as you requested, I will not tell him where you are.”

Emma swallowed hard. “I . . . Patrik’s involvement in the plan to rescue Bishop Wishart will keep him busy.”

“It will.”

Would Patrik ever think of her? Yes, but anger would taint his thoughts, anger he would never overcome. With her heart breaking, she took one last longing look, memorized the merest hint of dimples, the scar across his brow, the shadow of a beard.

I will always love you.

“I am ready.” Emma turned and walked to the door without looking back.

Emma set the woven laundry basket filled with clean clothes upon the ground. Wind whipped around her as she reached for the gown on top, secured it to the sturdy line of hemp. It was hard to believe a fortnight had passed since she’d arrived at the abbey, or how easy it had been to adjust to the simple lifestyle there. She reached for another gown.

The sounds of children playing prodded the emptiness within her soul. Though they were not her children, her life held purpose. Helping the orphaned children had allowed her to finally come to terms with her past and the death of the priest she’d adored. As for Patrik, however much she longed for him, at least here she’d found contentment, and here, she would live out the rest of her days.

She smiled at the sway of grass, the leaves clattering in the trees. None of the sisters had asked about her past, neither would she bring it up. Her desire to help was sincere, and they thankfully accepted it. For her, shelter and food was a fine exchange.

As Emma bent to retrieve the next sodden garment, a shadow darkened the basket. A smile touched her mouth. Which child needed her help now? She turned.

Hazel eyes pierced her.

She stumbled back. “Patrik!”

His warrior’s frame towered above hers. “You thought I would not come after you?”

“I . . . No. You should not be here,” she said.

Eyes blazing, Patrik caught her hand. “Come.”

Panic built, the curious looks of the others flustering her further. “Let me go!”

“If I did, I would be a fool.”

Unsure of anything, she followed as he strode toward the chapel. Once inside, he guided her to a pew. “Sit.”

Frankincense and myrrh scented the air as she stared at the man she’d believed she would never again see. Heart pounding, she fought for calm, too aware they were alone.

“What are you doing here? You and your brothers are supposed to be planning to free Bishop Wishart!”

“Just sit.”

Mouth dry, she sat. “But the bishop—”

“Plans have been made. Soon we will ride to accomplish the task.” Patrik crossed his arms. Candlelight framed the anger slashed upon his face. “Why did you request I not be told where you had gone?”

Her chest squeezed. “Is it not obvious?”

A muscle worked in his jaw. “Tell me.”

She clutched the time-worn bench, swallowed hard. “After you learned I was an English mercenary, you despised me. How could you not? I could not stay, my presence would only bring you more pain. Your having knowledge of my whereabouts would only upset you.”

Patrik took her hand. “When I awoke and learned you were gone, I ignored the sense of loss, assured myself I should be relieved you were gone from my life.” He curled his fingers over hers. “But with each passing day, the ache in my chest grew and I realized ’twas not from my wounds, but my heart.”

“Patrik—”

“Nae, let me finish.” He blew out a deep breath. “As I lay there healing, with time but a nuisance to endure, I realized I was wrong to cleave to my anger when you had sacrificed your life to save mine.”

A tear slid down her cheek. “’Twas my treachery that endangered your life.”

“It was, but a wrong you righted.”

She withdrew her hand, lashed at the tear. “Do not claim me righteous. ’Twas my greed for money, my craving for danger that guided me to deceive you.”

“Mayhap then, but if now offered the same task by Cressingham, would you agree?”

Ire flared in her eyes. “Of course not!”

Patrik smiled, appreciating the fine indignation on her face. The lass was amazing, her passion and determination qualities he would forever savor.

“’Tis not a fact I find humor in.”

“Nor I,” he said, his words somber. “Over the weeks, you have changed. As I have. I realized that my anger toward you after your selfless act was wrong.” Patrik exhaled. “After my parents’ deaths, I held onto my anger, allowed it to sever my bond with the MacGruders, men who had taken me into their home, had treated me like a brother. With your help, I recovered that bond. Nay, ’tis folly to cling to such darkness, a mistake I will not be making again.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “You forgive me?” she whispered.

“Aye.” Emotion welled in his throat. “With the passage of days, dreams invaded my mind, those of a lass afraid and alone, a lass who had borne the brutality of man. Also, a woman who sought forgiveness, a woman who wished to help children who’d lost their families as well.” At the flush sliding up her cheeks, he smiled. “I believed the memories but dreams. When Nichola told me you’d remained overnight by my side during my fever, I realized ’twas you I had heard, not my mind’s whispers.”

“Patrik, I—”

“Was it not?”

Emma lowered her head.

Patrik caught her chin, raised her face until their eyes met. “And, in my dream, the woman told me she loved me.”

Another tear wobbled, slid down her cheek.

“Do you?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

“Thank God.” On a rough exhale, he drew her into a heated kiss, one seasoned with passion, one delivered with desperation to have her in his life. Slowly, Patrik drew away, stared at the woman who had touched his life, the woman who had allowed him to heal, and the woman who had helped him regain his family. “I love you, Emma Astyn.”

Tears flowed unchecked down her face. “I do not deserve your love.”

“Aye, you deserve that and so much more.” He hesitated. “Emma?”

“Yes?”

With his body trembling, Patrik knelt before her, withdrew the halved malachite dangling upon a chain from around his neck.

She glanced toward his neck. “The gift from your grandmother?”

“Nae.” He withdrew the matching half from beneath his tunic. “This gemstone is the other half. I had it made into a pendant to give to my heart’s desire, the woman I was destined to love.” He brushed away a strand of hair from her face, the flicker of candles warm upon her cheeks as if a golden caress. “Emma, you are the woman who saved me when no hope remained, who taught me to love when I believed none existed. Within God’s house I ask you to marry me.”

Emerald eyes widened in wondrous disbelief. “You want me to marry you?”

“Emma, you are my life and the woman who fills my every dream. Marry me and I swear, I will show you only love.”

She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Yes! Oh yes!”

He stood, lowered the matching pendant over her head and claimed her mouth, her love erasing the last wisps of emptiness within his heart. Nay, Emma was not a threat, but
His Destiny
.

If you liked this book,
pick up the rest of the series!

His Captive

Strangers

With a wastrel brother and a treacherous former fiancé, Lady Nichola Westcott hardly expects the dangerously seductive Scot who kidnaps her to be a man of his word. Though Sir Alexander MacGruder promises not to hurt her, Nichola’s only value is as a pawn to be ransomed.

Enemies

Alexander’s goal is to avenge his father’s murder, not to become entangled with the enemy. But his desire to keep Nichola with him, in his home—in his bed—unwittingly make her a target for those who have no qualms about shedding English blood.

Lovers

Now Nichola is trapped—by her powerful attraction to a man whose touch shakes her to the core. Unwilling and unable to resist each other, can Nichola and Alexander save a love that has enslaved them both?

His Woman

Trusting Her Was Unthinkable

Lady Isabel Adair is the last woman Sir Duncan MacGruder wants to see again, much less be obliged to save. Three years ago, Isabel broke their engagement to become the Earl of Frasyer’s mistress, shattering Duncan’s heart and hopes in one painful blow. But Duncan’s promise to Isabel’s dying brother compels him to rescue her from those determined to bring down Scottish rebel Sir William Wallace.

Resisting Her Was Impossible

Betraying the man she loved was the only way for Isabel to save her father, but every moment she spends with Duncan reminds her just how much she sacrificed. No one could blame him for despising her, yet Duncan’s misgivings cannot withstand a desire that has grown wilder with time. Now, on a perilous journey through Scotland, two wary lovers must confront both the enemies who will stop at nothing to hunt them down, and the secret legacy that threatens their passion and their lives . . .

His Conquest

The Only Man Who Could Save Her

Linet Dancort will not be sold. But that’s essentially what her brother intends to do—to trade her like so much chattel to widen his already vast scope of influence. Linet will seize any opportunity to escape her fate—and opportunity comes in the form of a rebel prisoner locked in her brother’s dungeon, predatory and fearsome, and sentenced to hang in the morning.

Would First Need Saving Himself

Seathan MacGruder, Earl of Grey, is not unused to cheating death. But even this legendary Scottish warrior is surprised when a beautiful Englishwoman creeps to his cell and offers him his freedom. What Linet wants in exchange, though—safe passage to the Highlands—is a steep price to pay. For the only thing more dangerous than the journey through embattled Scotland is the desire that smolders between these two fugitives the first time they touch . . .

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ISBN: 978-1-4201-2544-3