Crevan mentally replayed her statement at least twice and it still made no sense. “What are you talking about?” he asked, not caring to hide his frustration.
“You,” Raelynd said, waving her arm at the empty clearing. “Our being alone obviously was not part of your plan on how this argument was to take place.”
Crevan could feel his eyebrows pucker and his jaw go rigid at the accuracy of her statement. “Explain.”
Raelynd openly returned his glare just before she smugly bent over to spread her blanket out. When done, she looked up and saw the perplexed look of anger in his face. She had actually guessed right. He had planned this fight.
Raelynd smothered a self-congratulatory smile. “You understood me. What I want to know is, when you were preparing your side of the quarrel, did you also figure out how you were going to apologize to me?”
Crevan opened his mouth to silence her question with a biting, belittling remark, but before he could utter a word, he digested her comments and his own reaction.
Never in his life had he actively argued with anyone. Such hostile interactions were nonsensical wastes of energy. He may have disagreed, even debated, but he had been on the verge of launching an actual verbal fight. Worse! He had been looking forward to it. Damn her! He had been visualizing how it would unfold, who would say what and how he would receive her remorse . . . but just like everything else with Raelynd, plans were worthless.
A mental war began to rage within Crevan. One side, the calm, indifferent piece of him, wanted to walk away, leave and avoid such confrontations. The other side, the one that was winning, could not leave until he had some explanation as to why Raelynd was so furious with him when it should be the other way around.
“Why should I apologize to you?”
Marching across the clearing, Raelynd came up to him and stood so close that she had to crane her head to look him in the eye. “How . . . how can you think so little of me?” she finally managed to get out.
The anger Crevan had heard before was still very much there in Raelynd’s voice, but standing so close, he could see considerable pain reflecting in her eyes. He did not know how, but he had hurt her deeply. “What are you talking about?” Crevan asked as he flashed back to that afternoon, searching for what he said or did. “Was it when I called you spoiled?”
Raelynd bristled. His assessment was undeniable, but it was also not exactly her fault. Her father had indulged her and her sister with the goal of ensuring their happiness. She had never known another way of life. But while she might be spoiled, she was not cruel. And she was not shallow. And knowing that Crevan thought her to be both—hurt enormously.
Unable to suppress her thoughts and feelings any longer, Raelynd began to pour out all she had been thinking. “It’s not what you said, it was what you thought I said that angers me so. How dare you think I was referring to your speech. At first, I did feel guilty knowing what you thought I had meant, but then I realized it was you who should be feeling bad, not me. I had done nothing wrong! I only spoke the truth! You aren’t what a woman wants. Do you know how many flaws you have that irritate women?” she asked rhetorically. “Many. But how you talk, which by the way I don’t even notice most of the time, is not one of them.”
Emotionally drained, Raelynd realized she had already said more than she had intended. Turning, she headed back to her blanket. No longer did the idea of going to sleep sound unappealing. She wanted nothing more than to lie down and wake up to discover the whole day had been just a horrible nightmare. But just before she reached her plaid, Crevan caught her arm in a firm grip that forced her to turn back around.
“How I talk really doesn’t bother you?”
Raelynd’s brows came together in confusion. “No. It never has. Besides, only when you’re around a group of people does it ever slow down.”
As the truth of her words sank in, Crevan gradually released his grasp. His whole life he had stuttered. And Raelynd was wrong, he stammered not just in front of crowds, but with everyone—everyone except her. When alone with Raelynd, he spoke normally.
Raelynd was just about to try again to lie down, when Crevan stopped her once more. “Then if it is not how I speak, what flaws are you talking about?”
The question came out of his mouth before he had thought it through. Other people’s opinions had always been just that—their opinions. Crevan was well aware of both his strengths and weaknesses and held himself accountable to the ones he could change. What others thought of him was meaningless . . . until now.
Raelynd stared up at him. She knew Crevan had flaws for he was constantly irritating her, but her mind had gone completely blank. “You have . . . well . . . too many for me to narrow them down.”
“You are impossible,” Crevan muttered, his blue eyes growing dark and unfathomable.
“No, you are,” she spat back as several of his faults came to mind that had just seconds ago escaped her. Stubbornness was one, but most of all was his autocratic way of telling her how to improve herself. Unfortunately, she had lost the opportunity.
“How so?”
“You refuse to tell me why we had to leave our home under the pretense of marriage.”
Raelynd waited for a few seconds and was not surprised to hear only silence. Kneeling down onto her blanket, she began to flick off the specks of dirt and leaves that had floated onto the material. She could feel tears beginning to form and to keep him from noticing her rapidly weakening emotional state, Raelynd pointed at Meriel’s rumpled plaid, which had a multitude of scattered items dumped on it. “I suggest you spend more time preparing to deal with that. My sister may be prettier and nicer, but when it comes to order, she is an immovable force of chaos. I may be troublesome, but for at least the next month, you are going to have to deal with Meriel’s shortcomings, not mine.”
Crevan watched as Raelynd stood back up to walk over and pick up one of her sister’s overly stuffed bags full of scraps of material to use as a pillow. The accuracy of her comments about Meriel’s cleanliness was worrisome, but it was Raelynd’s inflection that held his attention.
He moved to stand in her path as she returned to her blanket, but instead of trying to walk around, Raelynd stopped in front of him. She once again craned her head and looked up. Her eyes were large and wide and searching his own just as intensely. Gone was her anger. Instead, hurt and longing swam in the deep green pools.
Crevan was unable to move, wondering if he was just seeing what he wished for or if Raelynd truly did desire him. He wanted to tell her that her sister was indeed very pretty, but it was she who had the capacity of being far more attractive. Raelynd possessed the qualities men desired the most. She was strong, independent, and all of a sudden, everything that made him a man demanded for him to pull her into his arms and show her how he really felt.
Just as Crevan was about to grasp her shoulders, a loud crack echoed across the clearing. Someone had stepped on a branch. Crevan abruptly stepped back and headed to where his own plaid was laid out, but it was too late.
Meriel reached out and clutched Craig’s arm just as they breached the surrounding forest. They had gone to the horses to retrieve one of her bags and both had been so engaged in conversation, they had forgotten about their siblings. Seeing Crevan and Raelynd together and the seriousness of their expressions, it was clear the animosity between the two had only grown.
Craig, coming to the same conclusion as Meriel, whispered, “I have never seen anyone make my brother lose his temper faster or more often than your sister.”
“Then get ready,” Meriel whispered back. “I have a feeling that whatever is going on, there is more to come.”
Feeling the bright morning sun on his face, Crevan stretched and forced his eyes to open and immediately looked to the far side of the campsite. Raelynd was still unconscious, lying on her side with her back to him, just as she had been when he last spied a look at her before finally going to sleep. A noise caught his attention and he glanced the oth
er way to see Craig and Meriel both up and packing their things.
He was never the last to awake. Just the opposite, Crevan was usually the first to rise and begin the day, especially when traveling. It was yet another way he and his twin brother differed. Craig could enjoy festivities that went late into the night whereas Crevan was typically one of the first to retire. Last night and this morning, however, the reverse was true. Crevan listened for what seemed like hours to Craig’s light snores while his mind refused to let go of all that had happened, analyzing it from every angle over and over again. Being slow to rise this morning should have been expected.
After finishing tying up her things, Meriel walked over to Raelynd and nudged her with her foot. Startled, Raelynd jumped to her feet and gave her sister a scowl. Crevan wondered if Raelynd had also been similarly plagued with restless sleep. Immediately, he dismissed the idea, remembering how quickly slumber had found her.
Based on when they left yesterday and the pace they were traveling, McTiernay Castle would not be in sight until tomorrow morning. That left a lot of riding and Crevan refused to spend another day and night absorbed with thoughts of Raelynd Schellden. They were pointless as they brought only discomfort, and not peace.
He rose and went to relieve himself and when he returned, Raelynd was nearly done preparing to leave, already having brushed and replaited her hair. He thought about acknowledging her haste, but singling her out to offer praise for accomplishing something everyone was doing bordered on nonsensical. So instead, he quickly rolled his plaid, packed his things and then sat down to eat the cold meat the cooks had packed for their trip.
Meriel finally broke the silence. She looked at Craig and then realizing she should be directing her questions to her supposed husband-to-be, asked Crevan, “When will we get there? Craig thinks tomorrow morning.”
Crevan, not in the mood to make small talk, shrugged his shoulders. “Depends on how often and how long w-w-we have to stop.”
Craig shot him an annoyed look and then tried to compensate for his brother’s brusque manners by issuing Meriel a big toothy grin. “Hope you and Raelynd like bread,” he teased her, “for unless we want to extend this excursion by hunting and cooking the noon meal, after this meat is gone, bread is all we will be having until dinner.”
Meriel inhaled deeply and faked a shudder. “Bread is just fine. Nothing to lengthen this trip. Right, Lyndee?”
Raelynd glanced at Crevan and her hazel eyes held his blue gaze. What she was thinking he could not fathom for her expression held no emotion. But it was unlike her to be so reluctant to share her opinion. “Aye,” she finally stated. “Anything to get this month over quicker.”
Crevan stood up and said to her, as if no one else were around, “Then we best leave.”
The morning sun disappeared behind thickening clouds and after lunch, rain looked more and more likely. If it was only his brothers traveling, Crevan knew they would just continue riding late into the night and through the weather until they reached McTiernay Castle and shelter. And if it was only Raelynd, he would consider suggesting it, since they were now on the outskirts of McTiernay lands. Despite the miserable ride, she would be happier to have their journey over, even if it required riding in the rain. But that was not an option with her sister.
Meriel’s riding had improved—it was almost impossible for it not to—but she would not be able to handle her horse in the dark, and certainly not if the ground was slick and muddy. That left the original plan in place. They would have to find somewhere to stay.
Crevan was focused on the problem of just where they should camp when Conor appeared beside him, startling him out of his mental workout. “I’m going to ride ahead and see if old Shaun has room.”
They both knew Shaun would always have room for their laird. He was one of the few clansmen who lived on the outskirts of McTiernay lands raising not crops, but kyloe. The woolly cattle, with their long wavy coats, were not easy to round up, but they were hardy and could withstand the harsh Highland weather. Such farming required several hands. As a result, Shaun and his wife had a fairly large family. If asked, Shaun would have made room for not just Conor, but all of them between his home and the stables, but the women posed a problem. Shaun’s wife and their children would feel obligated to give up their beds for Raelynd and Meriel. As far as Crevan was concerned, Shaun’s family needed a good night’s sleep far more than Schellden’s spoiled daughters.
“Hamish and Loman going with you?” Crevan asked, already knowing the answer. Both men were tough soldiers, but neither was a fool. If they could avoid the weather and the sour company of their small group, they would.
“Aye.”
Crevan sent a sideways smirk to his elder brother. “Think that w-w-wise?”
Conor scoffed at the indirect attempt to say he or someone should sacrifice himself to play the role of chaperone. “The tension between you four is not of a passionate nature.” Conor paused and licked his lips, contemplating if he should give unwanted advice. “You may not care, but it is going to be a long month if you intend to keep it in angry silence.”
Crevan knew Conor was specifically referring to his treatment of not just Meriel, but Raelynd, who had also elected to ride somewhat apart and without uttering a word. Her choice to do so had plagued Crevan and he suspected that she did it because she knew it would bother him. It would be just like her. “It is going to be a long month regardless.”
“Aye,” Conor sighed. “Well, the clouds are dark, but they are moving. Hopefully, it won’t rain. Regardless, I will be riding on ahead in the morning.”
Crevan sent Conor a knowing grin. “You’re going to prepare Laurel.”
“If I thought that were possible, I would have left the second you two agreed to Schellden’s plan.”
“Still . . .”
“Aye,” Conor sighed. “Consider yourself fortunate that in a month’s time, you will not have anyone but yourself to please.”
Crevan did not say anything and a few minutes later, Conor urged his horse into a gallop and disappeared ahead. His eldest brother was wrong about him being fortunate. Laurel was Conor’s life. Though they fought, loudly and often, his brother was never happier than when his wife and his children were nearby.
Crevan wished the strong bonds of love that had found his three eldest brothers would also find him. But in his twenty-six years, Crevan had come to realize the likelihood of finding someone to share his life, whom he adored and also adored him, was extremely doubtful.
The kind of woman he wanted would never want him.
Somewhere northeast of them, the lands were being drenched, but thankfully, the brewing storm had passed by without a single drop falling on them. Both brothers elected to stop early near some cliffs to provide additional shelter in case the weather shifted again, and not in their favor. The river they were following fed into the small loch near the McTiernay Castle. The path was not the straightest route, but the least difficult, and also provided the most protection—but only because it was still fall. In the spring, the dry riverbed would be underwater and in a few months, the snow overhanging the jutting rock faces would make it potentially lethal.
Dinner had been quickly procured, prepared and cooked over a fire. In general, the gathering had been calm and uneventful. Craig and Meriel chatted about everything and nothing, and to the relief of them both, Raelynd and Crevan remained as they had been all afternoon—warily quiet, speaking only when asked a direct question or when necessary. After dinner, no one argued when Craig suggested they settle down for the night and evidence of his own lethargic state was soon heard vibrating in the humid night air.
“Lyndee?” Meriel whispered, just loud enough for her sister to hear, who was lying close by.
“What?” Raelynd mumbled. She was not asleep, nor did she think any semblance of a restful state would be upon her soon despite her being awake most of the previous night.
“What happened between you and Crevan?” Meriel asked
, feeling terrible that she had in many ways abandoned her sister for almost the entire day. Craig had taken it upon himself to teach her how to ride a horse. But after hours of patient instruction, he had come to the same conclusion she had the previous day—her even staying on top of the animal was a miracle.
When Raelynd did not respond, Meriel added, “Well, I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Raelynd finally responded, with a bit more bite than she had intended.
“For leaving you alone today, especially when you and Crevan do not like each other.”
“I was fine.”
Meriel did not believe her sister even a little bit. “Well, I promise from now on to do what I can to help you with Craig’s brother.”
“Don’t worry about it, Meriel.”
“But, Lyndee, how are you and Crevan going to pretend to get along once we reach the McTiernay home?”
“Thankfully, I don’t have to.”
Meriel stifled a yawn. “What about when the four of us socialize?”
Raelynd rose up on her elbows and peered in the direction of her sister. “Socialize? I only have to exchange pleasantries with the man. You are engaged to him. It is I who should be pitying you.”
Raelynd heard Meriel’s quick intake of breath and winced at the harshness of her tone. Meriel had no idea that it stemmed from a place of jealousy, and until now, neither had Raelynd. “Listen, Meriel, Crevan and I will be fine. I just didn’t sleep well last night. But I am glad that you and Craig are getting . . . along.”
Meriel heard the question buried in understated observation and she realized that the friendship growing between her and Craig was being misconstrued. “We are getting along,” she admitted. “We’re . . . friends and I respect him, but it is nothing more than that, Lyndee. And when it comes to Crevan, I’m going to talk to him tomorrow about how he treats you.”
Tempting the Highlander Page 8