She was almost to her chambers when a servant waylaid her. “Beggin’ yer pardon, lady, but the Laird wants to see ye, straight away. In his study.”
Roseann sighed again. She was bone-weary, after it all. She had just returned from a long trip. She had barely had time to think about, let alone probe her feelings about going to Domhnall’s bed. And then the incident with Cormac, and the aftermath of it. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep.
“Of course,” she said to the girl, smiling faintly.
He was standing next to the fireplace when she entered, staring into the flames. Hearing her approach, he quickly glanced up.
Roseann felt a quiver of apprehension. His face was closed, and his eyes narrowed. He didn’t look happy. In fact, he looked angry, although he was controlling it well.
She took a deep breath. “Cormac is calm now,” she said in a quiet voice. “I left him sleeping…”
He spun around, his green eyes narrowed. “The lad was a fool to do what he did. Ye ken that?”
She reeled back a little, stung at his tone. “Yes, I know he was reckless. But there are reasons why…”
He snorted. “Reasons to act like a wee fool? He might be Laird one day if I daenae have a son, and he can nae afford to be foolish!” He approached her swiftly until he was standing right in front of her, glaring down. “Ye were too soft on the lad. He needs a firm hand, not a woman tryin’ to be his mother!”
Roseann gasped. “I was not trying to be his mother! I was merely calming him down so that he would descend safely. Did you really want him to be so angry that he would fall? Or throw himself off the castle wall?”
His face tightened. “I was handlin’ the situation,” he growled. “Ye cannae make a man of a lad by sweetness. Cormac needs to harden up…”
Roseann stepped back. “I am sorry you thought I handled things badly,” she said stiffly. “And I do apologize if I overstepped my boundaries. I was merely trying to help. You were just inflaming the situation…”
He cursed underneath his breath. “Ye dinnae understand, do ye? What it is to be a Laird? It is not all this.” He spread his arms out wide. “It is not just suppin’ on fine food, and havin’ servants do yer biddin’. It is also fightin’, to keep control of yer lands, and have yer people honor ye. If the lad grows up soft and reckless into the bargain, he will make a mess of it, if the Lord makes that his destiny.”
She felt hot tears prickle behind her eyes. He was angry with her. She had only been trying to help, and yet he was treating her like she was the fool. The closeness that they had just shared seemed to have evaporated into the air like morning dew. She had just lain with him; she had given him the greatest gift of all, her maidenhead. But he didn’t seem to remember that at all, now.
“I am sorry,” she said again, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay. “I should not have interfered. He is your brother, after all. I will know better in the future.” She turned sharply, walking towards the door.
“Where are ye goin’?” he barked, staring at her.
She looked back. “I think I know where I stand, quite clearly, Laird. I will leave you to your peace…”
He cursed softly, striding towards the door. “Roseann. Wait…”
But she didn’t listen to him. Quickly, she left the room before he could waylay her any further.
Her mind was spinning. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. So much pleasure but also so much anger. She just didn’t know what to think. The man who had held her in his arms, making such sweet love to her was like a stranger now.
Were all the sweet words he had fed her lies? Had he taken his pleasure, and was she only now seeing the real Domhnall MacBeathag?
13
Domhnall put down the quill, rubbing his eyes. He was sick of doing this infernal paperwork. He had been hard at work for over three hours now, and the words were starting to swim in his vision.
Restlessly, he stood up, going to the window. He peered out at the courtyard. It was the usual hive of activity; he could hear the clink of metal as the farriers soldered the horses’ hooves and the low thrum of talk. People were coming and going about their business. All the things that made Coirecrag the efficient castle that it was.
His heart seized. Suddenly, he saw Roseann, weaving her way through the people. She was wearing a modest dress, a dull plum color, and she had a long scarf covering her dark hair. He knew exactly where she was heading. It was where she headed most mornings before she began her tutoring duties. The chapel.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. But that was nothing unusual; he was resigned to the effect that she had on him by now. It was as if she was a candle, burning brightly in a darkened room. Her beauty was so luminous it took his breath away.
His fists tightened by his side. He knew he had handled things badly with her after the incident with Cormac. He had taken his anger at the boy out on her. And now, she was distant. She spoke to him politely, but she avoided him. He had tried to bridge the growing gap between them, but she wouldn’t acknowledge it. She did her duties, and that was all. She rarely came into the dining hall to socialize, keeping to herself in her chambers.
He watched her like a hawk until she disappeared. She would sit in the chapel for an hour now. What did she pray for? Was she yearning for escape, once again, from him?
He cursed himself. She was hurt, and it wasn’t just because of his anger at Cormac and the way he had spoken to her afterwards. It was because that anger had occurred straight after what had happened between them. He had not been able to lay with her after her first time and reassure her of his affection. She thought he had taken his pleasure and ran.
She thought he was treating her like the whore she did not want to be.
He paced the floor, desperately trying to think of a way to fix things between them. How could he show her that he was sorry and that she did mean something to him? How could he repair the damage?
Abruptly, he stopped pacing. A slow smile spread over his face. An idea had just come to him. It might just work. He had nothing to lose.
Roseann sighed heavily, closing the door to Cormac’s chambers. They had been hard at work, conjugating Latin verbs, for over an hour. The boy had pleaded a headache, and she had accepted the excuse. It was only because she was weary herself and desperately needed time alone.
She slowly walked to her chambers, collapsing across her bed and feeling so low she could barely breathe. Perhaps she would return to the chapel. It was the only place that she found some measure of peace anymore. The only place where she could pray for answers to the questions that whirled around in her mind, over and over.
Am I a fallen woman?
Who will marry me, now that I no longer have my maidenhead?
How can I stop loving him, after I have shared such closeness with him?
There were never any answers to the questions. Especially the last one. Because she knew now, with a certainty that was chilling, that she loved the Laird. She had always loved him. She knew now that she could not have given herself to him, could not have let him do those things to her if she didn’t. The passion was overwhelming, but it wasn’t just about what he made her feel in a physical way.
She knew now that it wasn’t the same for him. He had sweet-talked her just so he could lie with her. He had convinced her that he didn’t want her to be his whore; that he genuinely cared for her. She had even let him take her to his chambers after he told her he was practically betrothed. He had said that he would break the betrothal for her, but she knew now that it was just another lie. Just another way to get her to lie with him, so he could take his pleasure.
Had she merely been a challenge for him? Was that all it had been about? She was a highborn English lady. Had his blood risen, thinking about her position and how hard he must work to get her to submit to him? A lot harder than tumbling with a servant girl behind a haystack.
Her face burned with shame. She couldn’t undo it now. Her one precio
us maidenhead was gone forever. She had given it to a barbarian, who only wanted her as a notch on his belt.
She turned over restlessly on the bed. At night, when she was trying to sleep, the sensations that he had made her feel when he had taken her would return. Just thinking about what he had done to her brought them back. It was like sweet torture. She tried to stop it, to bury it down, but she had become a slave to it.
Her face flushed deeper. Last night the yearning had been too much. She had been so driven by a desire for him that she had dared to touch herself down there, in the same way, that he had touched her, rubbing herself desperately. The sensations had peaked, again and she was thrown back into that delirious state of ecstasy. But it had only given her a small measure of relief. She was still alone, and it was his arms that she wanted around her. It was his hands, not her own, that she wanted touching her…
There was a soft knock on the door. Roseann bolted upright as if she had been speared with a sword. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and once again, that warm wetness that flooded out of her whenever she thought of the Laird had overtaken her.
Hastily, she jumped to her feet, walking to the door. She hoped her face wasn’t so flushed with arousal that the person on the other side would notice. It would be so terribly embarrassing!
MacCain stood there. “Lady,” he said slowly. “Could I have a moment of yer time?”
Roseann gazed out over the countryside, lost in contemplation. The Scottish moors were beautiful today; heather was flowering with abandon, spreading like a carpet of purple over the landscape.
She turned back to the front, to the man on the horse, who was leading her through this beauty. MacCain was riding a little ahead. He hadn’t told her where he was taking her. He had merely said that they must go on a little journey. He already had two horses saddled and waiting in the courtyard. She had asked him three times, what was going on, but he had merely grinned, saying that all would be revealed.
They passed a glen, then turned to the left, cantering over a moor. She gasped. In the distance, she could see a wide expanse of greyish blue water, as far as the eye could see. A vast lake. It shimmered like silk in the sunlight.
They kept riding toward the water. Now she could see the outline of an old, tall building, nestled right at the edge of the lake. And the figure of a man on horseback. Who was it?
But she knew, as soon as they were close enough. There was no mistaking that tall build, nor the strong arms holding the reins. His red hair drifted slightly in the breeze, away from his face, so that she could clearly see his firm chin, broad cheekbones, and the glint of his emerald eyes.
Her heart started hammering in her chest.
“I shall leave ye now, lady,” called MacCain, as they approached. He was smiling. “I have delivered ye as requested.” He turned his horse around, galloping away back across the moor.
Domhnall had dismounted his horse, gazing at her. Slowly, she dismounted too. The sound of her thudding heart was like a drum in her ears.
She stared at him as he approached her. “Why?” she said. “Why have you brought me here in such secrecy?”
He slowly walked up until he was standing close, gazing down at her. “I needed to speak to ye,” he said simply. “I needed to speak to ye, alone, and I couldnae think of a better place to do it.”
She gazed around. She knew that in Scotland, they called a vast lake like this a loch. Her eyes turned to the building. It looked like the ruins of an old church. The grey stones were scattered haphazardly around, and there were brambles overtaking it. But its structure was still there. She gazed up at the highest peak where an old Celtic cross stood.
It was wild and beautiful. A place that seemed magical, somehow. As if it was appearing before her out of the mists of time.
“It is wonderful,” she said slowly.
He nodded. “It is one of my favorite places in the world,” he said. “The kirk is old St. Peter’s. It has stood there for centuries. They built it on the edge of the loch to be closer to God…”
She felt tears pricking behind her eyes. “What happened to it?”
He shrugged. “It was ransacked by the English. They set it alight, over a hundred years ago, burning all the churchgoers. They say sometimes, if ye are here at night, ye can still hear their cries, drifting over the loch.”
Roseann shuddered. “That is a shocking story…”
He gazed at her steadily. “It is the history of our land, lass. But I daenae think of those poor souls, when I am here. I daenae think they haunt this loch. When I am here, all I feel is peace. One of the few places where I do, ye ken.”
She swallowed painfully. “What do you need to speak with me about, that could not be said in the castle?”
He stepped closer again so that she could feel the warmth of his breath. “Ye ken well why I need to speak with ye, Roseann Gibson. Ye have been as elusive as a fairy sprite. I have nae been able to pin ye down. Ye avoid me…and I cannae have it, lass.”
She stared up at him, blinking back tears. What was the use? Did he just want to sweet talk her again? Was the urge to lie with a woman like an itch that must be scratched for men?
She had hoped and yearned for something that could never be.
He was so very close to her. Her body was responding to that closeness, already. It was as if it had a mind entirely of its own. But she couldn’t afford to listen to it anymore.
“You do not like me,” she whispered. “You might desire me, but you do not like me. And I cannot do this…it is too painful. I would rather die than become a whore. You have already taken too much from me…”
“Roseann…” He reached out to grab her, but she twisted away.
Suddenly, she couldn’t bear it, not for a second longer. She turned, running blindly. She heard his shout behind her, but she ignored it. She kept running, stumbling over rocks, in the effort to finally be free of him.
14
Roseann kept running. She didn’t know what on earth she was doing or where she was going. The urge to get away from his magnetic power over her was so overwhelming she couldn’t even think anymore.
Suddenly, she was seized. Strong arms had her in their grip. She stumbled, tumbling to the ground. He landed on top of her so that she was crushed beneath him.
“Let me go!” she cried, trying to wriggle out of his grip. “Let me go! I command it!”
“I will nae,” he hissed, pinning her down. “I will nae let ye go until ye let me talk to ye! Stay still, lass. Stay still.”
She shuddered. Suddenly, all her fierce desire to escape him drained out of her, making her go limp. She gazed up at him, blinking slowly.
“Speak, then,” she said in a trembling voice. “Speak if you must.”
He stared down at her. “I took ye here because I needed to tell ye a few things,” he said slowly, taking a deep, ragged breath. “The first is that I am sorry for how I treated ye, after the incident with Cormac. It was wrong to take it out on ye. There is truth in what ye said. My blood was up, and I couldnae listen to it, then.”
She looked up at him, quite still.
“I ken how it is between my wee brother and I,” he said. “I have ignored him since I became Laird. I have been so busy, ye ken, and he has run wild. He feels the loss of it. We both lost our faither, and he misses him, too.”
Roseann sighed. “You have been doing your best, I am sure…”
His face tightened. “Well, my best has not been good enough! It is why I sought a tutor for him, ye ken. But that was just another way to solve the problem when I should have been taking the time with him myself.”
She felt tears prickle behind her eyes again. But she didn’t say a word.
He took a deep breath. “I will do it,” he said firmly. “I am resolved to spend the time with him. I love the wee laddie, and I ken how he looks up to me. I am brother and faither all rolled into one for him, now.” He gazed at her steadily. “It is thanks to ye that I finally ken that.”
She shuddered again, trying desperately to stop the tears from falling.
He took another deep breath. “There is another thing I have to say to ye,” he said slowly. “And that is about what is between us. I ken you think I have taken my pleasure and tossed ye aside. But it is not true, lass. If we had nae been interrupted that afternoon, I would have told ye what is in my heart…”
She couldn’t breathe. Unblinking, she stared up at him.
“It is nae just about the desire I have for ye,” he said huskily. “I will nae lie. I do want to lie with ye, and at first, I thought that was all it was about. I have desired other women but always walked away. It is nae like that with ye, lass. It is as if ye have burned my very soul.”
A Pledge of Passion to the Highlander Page 10