She intended to get married. Of course, that’s what any young woman of her age and her station would be thinking about. It was the usual way of things. So why did he feel a sharp pain in his chest?
Mrs. MacLean opened the door with a jolt of surprise. “Oh! Angus, come in. She is awake now and dressed in dry clothing.”
Angus looked up. “Good.” But, he put the letter behind his back and prepared himself to be yelled at.
Chapter Nine
Charlotte blinked her eyes. The candlelight that shone from either side of her bed felt too bright for a moment, and then she felt it, a sharp, searing pain in the back of her head. She instinctively placed her hand behind her head and groaned. She spotted Mrs. MacLean to the side of her.
“Oh, lovely, dear, yer awake! We were so worried for ye! Angus was especially grim. He’s waited in the hallway for ye for a long while, wanting tae see ye once ye awoke.”
“I’m certain he wishes tae scold me for my reckless behavior,” Charlotte said, her voice slightly raspy after riding in the storm.
Mrs. MacLean chuckled. “He does like tae have the appearance of a sharp, harsh man, Mistress, but I can assure ye, he is as sweet as a lamb. He has a good heart, but he would never show it, especially nae tae someone he fears. Take it from me; I’ve known the boy a long time.”
“Fears?” Another wave of pain hit Charlotte, and she laid back again.
“Come, I have brought some tea for ye that will help with the pain and the dizziness. There is a cut in the back of yer head, but it is nae large or deep. Now that yer awake, we can take a proper look at it, and ye can guide me with yer expert ministrations.”
Charlotte smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. MacLean. Oh, and thank you for assisting me out of my wet things. Is Liam all right?”
“Aye, he carried ye in, he did. He felt very sorry for what happened.”
Charlotte nodded.
“May I let Angus in now?”
Charlotte sighed. “I suppose, since he is waiting outside for me. But I cannot promise to be friendly, Mrs. MacLean.”
The old woman laughed once more. “Good tae know ye have nae lost yer wit, lass.’ And she left and spoke softly in the hallway, and Angus came to the door.
She straightened as his arrival, trying to prepare herself for the onslaught of wise words and admonitions that were to come her way. She knew that she had pushed it too far, but she didn’t want to neglect her patients. They were in a far worse state than she, and they were helpless without her. She had to do what she did, so she tried to think of what she would say in reply.
Mrs. MacLean left the room, but she left the door open, wisely. Angus looked a little awkward, which was unusual for the man. But she realized this was the first time they had seen each other since last night when she’d kissed him, hard, deep, and fast. The rush of the memory to her mind brought a fresh wave of pain, and she winced.
Angus stepped forward, his hand slightly outstretched. “Are ye well, lass? Shall I call for Mrs. MacLean tae return?”
“No, thank you. I am fine. ‘Twill come and go for a day or so. But I am not permanently injured,”
Angus then pulled a chair from by the fire and sat down next to Charlotte’s bed. She held tightly to the bedclothes like armor, and they covered most of her form. She was unnerved by the strange and intimate gesture of his nearness, even after all that had happened.
His voice was soft at first. “I am glad ye have awoken. I was worried we would have tae alert yer father.”
Charlotte nodded. She had prepared herself for an argument, but this man was not doing what she had so expected. “I…I am sorry if I worried you or anyone else. I only thought of my patients. I couldn’t abandon them.” She breathed as if she meant to keep going, but further words eluded her.
He nodded and kept his eyes fixed on hers. It looked like he was studying her again, and even in her dizzy state, she could feel the tingle in her stomach that his gaze always evoked. He didn’t say anything else, and Charlotte looked at her hands. She didn’t understand what was going on. Where was the fury? The rage? The misunderstandings? It felt oddly like last night at dinner when they had gotten along so well for a time, and she had felt surprisingly relaxed in his presence, saying things she would never normally say.
But, the evening could not end as it had the other night. Certainly not. Even so, she felt the urge to kiss him once more. It came to her like a flash. She didn’t expect it, not after her firm resolution to forget all about it. But when she stole a glance at his mouth as he sat next to her, she remembered the feel of it on her own, and it sent shivers of pleasure through her.
In order to move away from this train of thought and break the silence between them, she blurted out, “Last night. You must forgive my behavior. ‘Twas the wine. I normally do not have so much. Well, not so much when in the presence of just one other person.”
Once she uttered the words quickly and falteringly, her face flushed, and her cheeks felt like they were burning. She felt like she had no control over her body, and she listened in horror as the words left her mouth. She was powerless to stop them. She waited and watched as Angus’ mouth turned up in a slight smile. He rubbed the back of his neck like he had last night by the hearth after she’d kissed him. She could not forget that.
“I never expected ye tae be so apologetic, lass.”
That was all? That was all he had to say after that? The heat inside of Charlotte’s body began to slowly move from embarrassment to anger.
But, he continued, haltingly, as if he struggled to find the words. “Dinnae think of it, lass. ‘Tis over now, ‘Twas nae that I stopped ye, anyway.”
Charlotte’s fingers curled around the blanket she held so tightly. When would this humiliation be over? she thought with agony.
“True enough,” she said and smiled weakly, remembering the feel of his arms around her back, pulling her tightly to him as if he never wanted to let go. She looked down to see that Angus’ hands had moved to the side of her bed, laying there comfortably, as if they had always been there. But had they? She couldn’t remember.
She laid her hand down next to them, surprised at her actions. There was a fresh silence between them as they both seemingly struggled to find the right words. Charlotte didn’t know what to say next. It was as if all thought had left her brain, and all she could think about was how close Angus MacLean was to her in her bed and in her bedclothes.
She thought hurriedly about her appearance. Was her hair a savage mess once more? Was she dirty from the rainstorm? She closed her eyes for a moment, embarrassed by that possibility. But then, they snapped open when she felt a light touch on the tip of her fingers. She almost drew them back in instinct, but when she looked down, she saw that it was Angus’ strong hand that touched her so gently and lovingly.
It felt like she stared for hours, watching the muscles of his hand move and savoring the feel of his hand on hers. She slowly responded in kind, feeling him back where he was touching her. Her head hurt, but it didn’t matter. She felt light and dizzy in a new way, a lovely way.
But suddenly, he pulled away, and Charlotte nearly gasped at the sudden movement. It was like she was awoken sharply from a dream, and she had to quell the feeling of disappointment at the removal of his hand. As if she had only now remembered, the sounds of the storm filled her ears, and she couldn’t believe that she hadn’t noticed it the whole time Angus was present.
“Lass, Charlotte, I have something for ye.” He pulled out a letter with the seal of Fort William on it. He didn’t look at her but simply handed it over.
“The letter,” she said stupidly when they both knew exactly what it was. “But how did it get here? The storm surely would have prevented any delivery.”
“A young boy started his journey, and the storm came just as he was nearing our shores. I have allowed him tae stay with us until the storm passes.”
Charlotte warmed at Angus’ generosity. So, perhaps Mrs. MacLean was right. There was a so
ft heart underneath his cold demeanor. But then she saw that the letter had been opened, and she felt a fury rise in her throat.
“Did the boy open my letter? How dare he?”
Angus placed his hand over Charlotte’s and then pulled away. “Nae, he didnae. ‘Twas I who opened it.”
Her eyes opened wide, and she opened her mouth to yell back, “How could you? This is personal! He could have written things in here for me to read that no other eyes should see.” The pain in her head began to increase, and she winced as the pounding stopped her speech.
“I’m sorry, lass. I wasnae sure what tae do. I didnae know if ye would wake up taenight or tomorrow, and we would need tae send word back tae yer father so that he wouldnae worry and send redcoats our way.”
She didn’t care, even if his arguments were reasonable. She was afraid of what her father had written inside. Did he write like he was writing to a child, as he often did, reprimanding her or trying to coax her to do his bidding? Did he write about the marriage she needed to think of? She would have died of embarrassment if so.
She didn’t answer right away but scanned the letter quickly. So she would have to leave, and he did mention the marriage. She flushed red anew and turned to Angus, her eyes narrowing. “I can’t believe you read my personal letter. He has spoken of things I did not wish anyone to know!”
“I am sorry, but…”
Her anger was making her unreasonable now. She was hurt, saddened, humiliated, and now, her head began to hurt more than ever. “No! I do not understand your reasons. You probably just wanted another way to control me and tell me what to do, putting me into a box, like all men think is the way to ‘handle’ their women.”
“Ye arenae my woman, lass. But,”
Charlotte didn’t even give him a chance to reply once again. “No, and thank God for that. If I was your woman, you probably would never let me leave my chamber or do anything that is at all worthwhile. I would have to follow your bidding and do whatever you asked.”
Angus’ voice became louder and sharper in response. “Ye are the one who makes yer own choices and never listen tae what I say tae keep ye safe. Ye are the one who kissed me, lass. I have never forced ye in any way. Bloody hell, why do ye give me this grief? I only try tae do my duty, and ye are like a burden tae my already heavy load!”
Charlotte kept looking at him, her chest moving quickly with the force of her breath. He was right. It was she who had done that. And she was blaming him for it. She wanted to blame him for everything: her father calling for her, her lack of ability to decipher what was happening with her patients, and the way he made her feel turned around and inside out.
He looked back at her, and they were silent for a moment, breathing hard as they let their angry words fly off into the air. She was enraged. She felt so violated by him, and that he seemed to know every part of her. Those eyes, always watching, and always taking what was not theirs, seeing through her. And yet, she knew nothing about him, and it infuriated her. She felt like she was trapped here with him, and even yet, she couldn’t help but glance slowly at his mouth once more, thinking about the taste of him.
She hated herself for it, and she pulled back to lay against the pillows. Her head was banging even harder now. She placed a hand lightly on her forehead. Angus spoke first, but his voice was tight, no longer containing the initial softness it had when he’d first entered the room. “Lass, ye should rest. There is nae need tae yell when ye are unwell. Ye have a week tae recover before ye leave.”
She grumbled, hating how the pain was making her appear weak in front of him. “And you know that from reading my personal letter. Go.” She waved him away.
Angus huffed but didn’t say anything, and Charlotte closed her eyes until she could hear the sound of the door shutting behind him. Then she breathed out, jubilant that he was gone, and she could clutch her shame to herself quietly without him watching her. A tear streamed down her face, partly from pain and partly from frustration.
She was to leave, and leave she would. He had asked her why she gave him so much grief. He had called her a burden on his ‘already heavy load’. Well, she could leave him to Duart Castle on his own, despite Calum’s great desire for her to be there. She wouldn’t fight her father’s wish and work to convince him. She couldn’t bear living here any longer. She would go, and earlier than he had requested.
Chapter Ten
Angus wished he could slam the door after he left, but he didn’t want to hurt her head any more than it already did. Bloody feckin’ bastard! He still cared about the woman and her health even though she cared naught for him and how she treated him.
Sure, he had read her letter, but what else was he to do? All he had been trying to be this whole time was the kind of laird who was able to step in and take care of the clan that was left to him while his brother was away. He already feared he wasn’t good enough for the task, but Charlotte made him feel totally useless like he could do nothing right. And that was exactly why he had shied away from marriage in general, to begin with. In a marriage, you are always beholden to someone else, and you must always think of them.
If the woman was as headstrong and hurtful as Charlotte Andrews was, then a lifetime of loneliness and doing as he wished was exactly what he wanted. He wanted it even more now. He wanted to be his own man and make his own decisions without someone coming to berate him.
He moved quickly to his own room, and this time shut the door hard. It was a childish gesture, he knew. He and his brother used to do it when their parents had scolded them about something, but now he needed a way to vent the anger that was making him shake. It was too bad it was now late at night. No one would spar swords with him at this hour. He called for dinner to be brought to his room, even though his stomach was still battling the effects of the argument and recoiled at thoughts of food.
Damn that lass! Good riddance to her!
Once she left and was out of his hair, he could finally focus on what was actually important: the clan. And not some uppity Sassenach who could not listen to any sort of criticism or think about anything beyond what she wanted to do. He sat by his own hearth, leaning his elbows on his knees, staring into the flames. He had so much to think of in preparation for the coming weeks, and yet all he could do was think about when he had first entered the room and saw her for the first time since their kiss
Despite the rainstorm which had soaked her through and covered her with mud, her injury, and the fact that he had not wished to see her after the kiss, she looked more beautiful than ever. He was awed in her presence, and he felt as silly as Liam as he entered shyly, trying to string a pair of words together.
Her beautiful reddish-blonde hair had been strewn about her shoulders, damp and tousled, but it only added to her charms. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat of the room, and her green eyes watched him curiously as if they were watching an animal enter the room instead of a man.
Food came, and he ate slowly, absentmindedly, as he tried to work out the knot that was in his chest. She was going, and he needed her to go, or else things would get too complicated. He had felt the tension that was between them in her room. He wanted to kiss her again, and he had a feeling that she did too, but all was blurred by the argument and the hurt that he had caused her. And now, she would be gone. He would never really have to see her again unless she visited Julia and Calum at some point.
Despite the freedom that would give him, a tiny piece of him screaming to be heard did not wish her to go. That tiny part of him was the one that had let go and touched his fingertips to her own, wanting to be close to her once again and rekindle the heat from the other night, which had threatened to set them aflame. But, no, it could not happen now. Now that she was leaving, and now that they had said all those things to each other. He had hurt her by reading the letter, and he had called her a burden. She believed him to be a tyrant. Where could they go from here? Separation was the only option.
But he felt guilty. And he sat with hi
s thoughts until he drifted off into a lonely and dissatisfying sleep.
* * *
The next morning, he awoke with a jolt. The first thought was about Charlotte and if she was well. But then he laid back. She certainly would not wish to see him. She would have to rest in her room until she was well enough to be on her way. A week should be plenty of time. He dressed in a hurry and rushed to Mrs. MacLean to ask discreetly about the patient.
He found her in the Great Hall, laying out food for the morning meal. “Ah, Angus, welcome. I thought ye should know that I gave the young boy food and lodging last night, and now that we’ve awoken tae a beautiful, fresh morning,” she pointed towards the outside windows through which peeked a taunting blue sky, “He will be on his way this morning with Mistress Andrews.”
Mending a Highland Heart: Healing him was more scandalous than she ever imagined… Page 8