The Hunter (39 page)

Suddenly another truth hit her. Another betrayal. “This is not a temporary stay in Scotland. The king has no intention of letting me return to Roxburgh, does he?”

He didn’t shirk from the cold accusation in her gaze. “He does not.”

“But you let me think I might persuade him. You
knew
how important this was to me, and still let me believe I would be returning!”

She saw him flinch, but his guilt wasn’t good enough.

He shrugged his shoulders. His naked shoulders that even now taunted her with memories. She could see the tiny imprints of her nails. Proof of her stupidity.

“It seemed easier at the time. I thought you might refuse to go, and I didn’t want to have to go chasing after you again. What you were doing was dangerous—”

“And, of course, it couldn’t be as important as what
you
are doing.”

She thought he couldn’t hurt her any more than he had by lying to her. She was wrong.
He never believed in me at all
.

She might have tried to understand his attempt to avoid conflict, but not the lack of regard for her. He’d known
how much what she was doing meant to her, and in humoring her, in letting her believe her mission was only being delayed, he’d shown just how little he valued her. How little he thought of her. He would never give her what she wanted from a husband.

She stood to leave, but he caught her arm, stopping her. “Just because you can talk your way out of a situation doesn’t mean you should. You are overconfident to the point of recklessness. With what happened with the priest in Roxburgh … It was only a matter of time before you were discovered. I’m not going to apologize for not wanting to see you in danger.”

“How about for lying to me?”
And making me love you?

His eyes softened. But she felt strangely indifferent to it. An hour ago, she might have seen it as a sign of feeling. Now, she knew better. “I’m deeply sorry for that. I was just trying to do my job.”

A sharp scoffing sound erupted from her tightly wound chest. “And the mission always comes first, isn’t that right?” He didn’t say anything. She looked at his handsome face, seeing the silent plea for understanding. Part of her wanted to give it to him. Part of her wanted to think there was still some way this wouldn’t end up so horribly. “And what now, Ewen? What happens to your mission now?”

Surely she couldn’t have been so wrong. He didn’t deserve a choice, but she was going to give him one.

Ewen had bungled this badly. Which was exactly the reason he’d wanted to avoid it. He couldn’t stand the way she was looking at him. Seeing the shattered trust in her eyes. The betrayal. The broken heart.

It tore at him.

He didn’t want to lose her. But what the hell could he do? He would try his damnedest to make it right, to salvage
what he could of his honor and his place in Bruce’s army, but he held no illusions.

“I will explain everything to Bruce when we return. If he agrees, we will be married as soon as the banns are read.”

She stared at him, forcing his gaze to meet hers. “You don’t really think you can get him to agree?”

He didn’t think there was a chance in hell. His jaw clenched. “I thought you were confident you could persuade him?”

“That was before I was apprised of the betrothal. Robert will not ‘reward’ you for interfering with his plans.”

“I will tell him there is no other choice. It is too late.” He’d taken her innocence, damn it.

“Then you should prepare to defend yourself with your sword, because he will want to kill you. Robert will not look kindly on your cheapening the worth of his prize.”

“Do not speak of it like that,” he snapped angrily. “That is not how I feel.”

“How
do
you feel, Ewen?”

Like he was trying to find traction on a hill of ice? Confused? Torn? Like a man who’d just lost everything and failed an entire clan? “How can you ask after what just happened? Surely you must realize how much you mean to me?”

He could tell by the flash of disappointment that crossed her face that it was not the declaration she wanted to hear. But it must have been enough. She put her hand on his arm, turning those big sea-green eyes to his imploringly. “Then run away with me. We will find a priest somewhere to marry us. You know it is the only way. Robert will never grant us permission to marry.”

Every muscle in his body turned as rigid as steel, his rejection of her words bone deep.

Was fate playing some kind of hideous joke on him, forcing him to face the same choice as his father? Well, he sure
as hell wasn’t going to make the same mistake. “I am not going to run away.”

She watched him, her eyes taking note of his clenched fists and flexed muscles. “Loving me isn’t going to make you your father, Ewen.”

She gazed up at him with such compassion and understanding that for a moment he wavered. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her it would be all right.

But it wouldn’t. His feelings for her weren’t going to cost him this. “Won’t it? Maybe you’re right. It wouldn’t make me my father. My father had Stewart to help him pick up the pieces; I will have no one.”

“You will have me.”

As if it could be that simple. “What kind of life would we live? Without the king and Stewart’s support, I have nothing to offer you. No money. No castle. Just two hundred people depending on me to provide for them. Should we join my cousin and kinsmen in Ireland with the other ‘rebels’?”

She lifted her chin stubbornly, her mouth pursed. “Mary will help. Christina as well.”

“You would ask that of them? You would put them at odds with Bruce.”

With that, he succeeded in quieting her.

“Running off isn’t romantic, Janet, it’s irresponsible and foolish. It won’t solve our problem; it will make it worse. Nay, there is no other way. We will take our chances with Bruce.”

He forced himself not to see the disappointment shimmering in her eyes, but it ate like acid in his chest.

“Then you have made your choice.”

“I have.”

“Even if it means we cannot be together? Even if it means I must marry another man?”

He took her by the arm, dragging her face to his. “Yes, damn it, yes!”

It was as if he’d blown out a candle; the light in her eyes simply died. He felt the quick stirrings of panic in his chest. Instinctively, he reached for her, but she jerked away.

Her eyes shot sea-green daggers at him, sharp enough to draw blood. “Do not touch me again. You have made your decision; now I have made mine. I will not marry you or Walter Stewart. I will not marry anyone. I will take the veil before anyone tries to force me down the aisle.”

His pulse leapt, panic no longer just stirring in his chest but jumping—nay, ricocheting—all over. “You don’t mean that.”

She didn’t say anything. She wouldn’t even look at him. Her gaze was pinned on the door behind him. “Contrary to your belief, Ewen, I am capable of knowing my own mind.”

He swore, knowing she was slipping away from him but not knowing how to stop her. He stood, swaying from the pain in his leg. But it was nothing to the firestorm of emotions burning in his chest. He hated feeling like this. Out of control. Angry. Panicked. Helpless. She was tearing him apart.

He lashed out blindly, like a cornered beast. “What the hell do you want from me, Janet? Do you realize what this,” he jerked his head toward the rumpled bed behind them, “has cost me? Everything I’ve been fighting for. Is that not enough, or must I cut a vein for you, too?”

She looked stricken; every bit of color slid from her face. Her voice trembled. “I didn’t realize there was a price on something that was freely given. I wanted to please you; I’m sorry if it was not enough. But you need not worry. It need not cost you anything. As I will not be marrying anyone, my innocence—or lack thereof—is not important. You offered marriage, and I refused. You did your duty; if there was any damage to your honor, it is assuaged. There is no reason to say anything to Robert at all. Your position
in his army need only be in jeopardy if you choose to make it so.”

As quickly as the anger had risen, it was doused. He barely heard her words, giving him a way out; all he could see was the hurt his careless words had inflicted. He shouldn’t be blaming her. This wasn’t her fault. And he sure as hell hadn’t meant to make what had happened between them feel like some kind of transaction. “Damn it, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I never meant any of this to happen. I was just trying to do my job.”

“And I got in the way. You were just a simple soldier trying to do your duty, and I was—how did you put it?—a complication.” He frowned. That wasn’t what he meant … was it? She was so much more than that. “I’m sorry for making things difficult for you, Ewen. Had you told me the truth, it might not have happened the way it did. But as you took it upon yourself to make those decisions for us both, I’m afraid now you must live with them. You are a fighter; I’m sure you’ll find a way to win everything you desire. It would have been easier—simpler—if we’d never met. And if it’s any consolation, right now I wish we never had.”

Jesus!
What had he done? “You don’t mean that.”

The look she gave him told him differently. His skin, which had been feeling unusually hot, suddenly felt covered in a layer of ice.

“And that is exactly why I do. You told me once what you wanted in a wife. I should have listened to you. Maybe this is much my fault. I wanted to make you something you were not. You are not Magnus, and I am not Helen. I hope one day you find a woman who will be content to let you cosset and protect her—think for her. But that is not me.”

She stood and started to walk toward the door.

He liked it better when she was angry with him. This cold, calm, indifferent stranger scared the hell out him.
I’m losing her. What can I do?

He felt as if he were falling—flailing—over a mountain without a rope. The hill was steeper, the ice harder and more slippery, and he couldn’t dig in his heels to stop from sliding. “Wait.”

She turned.

“You can’t go.”

For one foolish heartbeat, Janet thought he meant to call her back because he’d changed his mind. That he would fight for them, as hard as she was sure he would fight for the king or his clan. But she was wrong—again.

“I can’t take the chance that you will try to run,” he said.

On the pile of disappointment he’d heaped upon her feet, one more stone shouldn’t make a difference. But it did. The mission. Of course, he was thinking about the mission. Not about her.

Although perhaps he did understand her a little after all. For she had no intention of returning with him to Dunstaffnage. She never should have let him take her away from Roxburgh in the first place. She had to get back. She would not take the risk in missing something important. She would deal with her former brother-in-law and his “plans” for her when she was done.

Janet straightened her back, calling on every ounce of her earl’s daughter blood. Though he towered over her, even from a few feet away, she still managed to give him a long, regal look down her nose. “So I am to be treated as a prisoner?” She held out her hands, crossed at the wrists. “Will you bind me with chains, or will rope be enough?”

Ewen swore. She saw him shift and wince as he put weight on his leg. It was obviously hurting more than he’d let on, but she bit back the words of concern that leapt to her tongue. He hadn’t wanted her help when she’d offered it. He hadn’t wanted anything from her. But just like always,
she hadn’t wanted to hear it. She hadn’t wanted to hear “no.” She thought she knew what was best.

At least this time, she was the only one hurt. That is, assuming he didn’t tell Robert. She hoped he wasn’t foolish enough to do so now. There was no reason. He need not lose everything for taking what she’d freely given. She wished she could say the same. For seven and twenty years she didn’t know anything was missing. Now she did.

“Jesus, Janet. It’s not like that. I just don’t want you to do anything … rash.”

He just kept throwing stone after stone. Eventually she hoped they would stop hurting. “How fortunate I am to have you to look out for me.”

“Damn it. I didn’t mean it like that. Will you give me your word you won’t try to leave?”

“Yes.”

He paused, staring at her. “You’ll run the moment I turn my back.”

She lifted her chin, not denying it. “So I
am
your prisoner?”

His mouth tightened. “You are the woman with whose safety I have been entrusted. I’m not going to let you go.”

A shiver ran through her at his words, but she knew it was foolish to attribute anything meaningful to them. Letting go was exactly what he was doing to her.

“I will fight for us, Janet. Just trust me.”

She’d done that, and look where it had brought her. He was making it perfectly clear what he thought of her: she was a mission—a duty—nothing more. Her voice shook. “I am not sleeping here with you.”

His mouth tightened. “Yes, you are.”

“You are going to have to drag me to Dunstaffnage, for I will not go with you willingly.”

The muscle below his jaw ticked ominously. “If that’s what it takes to keep you safe.”

“I will hate you for it.”

His eyes held hers, and if he had not cured her of illusions, she might have thought she saw true emotion in them. “I hope you don’t.”

Janet knew the battle was lost for now. He would not be dissuaded. He was intractable—a stone wall blocking her path. Suddenly the strength left her. It was as if the events of the day caught up with her all at once. Battered and bruised to the depths of her soul, all she wanted to do was roll up into a ball and cry herself to sleep. But he wouldn’t even give her that.

She looked to the bed, a stab of pain knifing through her. She could still feel him between her legs, the dull ache a painful reminder of what they had shared. “You cannot expect me to share a bed with you?”

He shook his head, looking sadder than she’d ever seen him. “You can sleep on the pallet. I don’t think I’ll be doing much sleeping.”

“The cost of guard duty.”

He didn’t respond to her jab but rubbed his leg unconsciously, as if trying to get a knot out, and winced.