Her gaze met his, glossy with unshed tears and hard with hatred. “That is why I crave vengeance. I know it won’t bring back my family, but it will make them pay for what they’ve done. And I will finally stop being the cowering little girl who let her family be murdered.”
Gone were the tears, and in place of the self-hatred burned a gritty determination unlike anything he’d ever seen in his life. It lit her from the inside and promised to destroy all in her path to see her purpose done.
And he did not blame her.
“Sylvi, I—my God, what ye went through.”
“Now you know why I wear this.” Sylvi touched the ribbon at her neck. “To hide the constant reminder of how I so gravely failed my family.”
“It’s no’ failure at all. Dinna ye see? It’s a banner of yer survival. It tells the world a bastard could slice yer neck and ye’ll still be there the next day.”
He reached for the ribbon at her neck, his movements slow and careful. She did not stop him. He caught one edge of the flimsy silk between his fingertips. Still she did not stop him. He met her gaze and pulled gently.
A breath whispered over her lips, and he looked down.
The skin of her throat was milky white and smooth, bisected by a jagged pink scar. He looked up into her eyes, the pale blue no longer cool but an open door into a soul as wounded as her throat.
Every day she hid her pain behind an impenetrable mask of strength, and every day she woke up to face the loss again.
Now he finally, truly understood.
Chapter 14
Sylvi’s heart was trapped in the mutilated confines of her throat. Ian stared deep into her eyes before dropping his gaze to her neck and back up again.
She was exposed. Her most tender vulnerability splayed open for his judgment.
“Sylvi.” His voice broke around her name. “Ye’re the strongest person I’ve ever known.” He swept his thumb over her lips. “And the most beautiful.”
Heat flared over her cheeks, and she turned away, unable to take his placating endearments. He gently turned her head back to him.
“It’s hard to know what to say after hearing a story like yers. And yet all I can think is how powerful ye are. Ye hide it all day after day, but seeing it like this.” He drew a finger down her throat, over the sensitive line of her scar.
She closed her eyes against the caress. His touch on the tender skin did not make her jerk back as she might have thought. There was far too much acceptance in such a stroke for her to fear.
“I love ye, Sylvi.”
A chill prickled through her veins.
Love.
How could the idea of love even begin to grow in a heart so damaged?
His mouth came near hers, and she let the warm softness of his lips brush over hers. But it was not the balm she needed, and her heart crumpled at his show of tenderness. She shook her head. He immediately drew back, and cool air filled the space between them.
She opened her eyes to his confused stare. “I can’t love you, Ian. I’m too full of hate.”
His arms came around her. “Let me love enough for us both, lass.” His voice was rich and sensual in her ear.
She wanted to melt into him, to let down the constant iron she always curled around her, for it was heavy and cumbersome.
“It’s not fair.” Her protest was meek, beaten down by emotion and exhaustion.
“What happened to ye is no’ fair.” His hold on her intensified, and she realized the ferocity behind his embrace had been held back while she told her story. “After we’ve killed them all, yer heart will be free and ye can love.”
He had more belief in her than she held for herself. Healing would be impossible. She opened her mouth to protest when his lips came down on hers, tender and so gloriously loving she could not turn him away this time.
Perhaps it was wrong what she did, but she could not refuse the comfort he offered, the acceptance in his gaze. And when he pulled her to him, she allowed her body to mold against his. He was everything warm and safe, everything she had not allowed herself to feel in far too long. She would allow herself the concession of his affection before giving everything up once more for her desperate race for vengeance.
•••
Sylvi woke the next morning to find the room still cloaked in darkness. The comfortable warmth behind her pulled her closer in an embrace.
Ian.
“Good morning.” His voice was a deep, delicious rumble in her ear. He nuzzled closer to her, and the scruff of his unshaven jaw scratched against the sensitive skin at the back of her neck.
Her mind came to awareness with a snap of realization.
If it was morning, she’d slept the entire night with him.
Sylvi rolled over to face him and found him smiling. “Good morning.”
He propped himself up on his elbow and regarded her, his smile widening. “Ye stayed through the night.”
“I didn’t have any other place to go.” She winked at him.
“Look at ye, no’ being so serious.” He brushed a hand over her cheek. “Ye’re actually verra good at teasing when ye put yer mind to it. Almost as good as me.”
She smirked. “Don’t get arrogant now.”
“That too is part of my charm.”
She glanced out the window. “Is the sun not up yet?”
A streak of lightning lit up the dark sky followed almost immediately by a deafening clap of thunder.
“It’s trying,” Ian said. “But it’s no’ winning the fight.”
She frowned. “What time is it?”
Ian pressed a kiss to her temple, then hopped out of bed without a bit of clothing on him. Naked and totally uncaring, he made his way to the window and peered out. The muscles of his back flexed with the action.
Sylvi’s body went warm with the memory of his powerful back, arms, legs, stomach, everything. The prior night had been unlike any other they’d shared before.
He’d been careful, tender, and affectionate. He’d made her feel like something special and beautiful.
He’d made love to her in the slow, gentle manner he had been trying to implement since their first tryst, and she had allowed it. His tenderness had fed her hungry soul.
When it was all done, he’d wrapped her in his arms and she’d fallen asleep feeling more whole than she’d felt in far too long.
“I believe it’s about the middle of the morning,” he said.
Her heart leapt. “So late?” They’d slept longer than intended. “We should have left over an hour ago.”
Ian turned back to her. “It will be slow going today, the rain is coming down hard.”
A faint light from the window shone over his flat stomach and highlighted the rippled muscle beneath. It was almost distracting were she not so preoccupied with the delay they already faced. The rain would cause them to further slip behind.
Damn.
“The others should be up by now.” Sylvi threw the covers off her and near gasped at the chill of the air on her naked skin. “No doubt they’ve been waiting on us.”
Ian pulled his léine on and set to work fastening the kilt around his waist while she dressed. “Let’s divide to save time. I’ll go round up the others. Ye can go get food from the innkeeper for the journey today.”
He dug out the coin pouch from his bag and tossed her a couple of coins. “Ye paid for the room, I’ll buy the food.”
Sylvi made a face. “You don’t have to do this.”
He shrugged and opened the door. “I know that, but it’s only fair.”
Fair.
The word hung in the air for a moment, recalling the conversation from the night before. How it was unfair she would not be able to love him and he insisted on loving enough for the both of them.
“And it’s already done, because I’m gone,” he added quickly before closing the door.
The coins were cool and heavy in her hand.
It was a kind
offer, though she’d find a way to get the coins back to him regardless. After all, this entire trip was for her, to finally get her revenge.
She shook her head to clear it of the smile creeping over her lips. Percy was right. Sylvi did keep smiling. But today would require concentration.
Sylvi glanced out the window, and the lightness in her heart went dark. The mud below was thick as pottage and deep enough to have sucked a man’s leg in up to his calf.
Today would be difficult indeed.
She looked at the coins in her palm and reached for her dagger, the habit so ingrained, she did not even realize what she was doing until she scraped the first coin. Her hand paused over the second coin.
It was a pointless exercise. They knew where Reginald was.
Her pulse came a little faster. This would truly all be over soon.
She scraped over the coin. It was so silly, and yet it always brought her closer to her father. She couldn’t help but cherish that thought as she dragged the tip of her dagger over the last and final coin. Her heart stopped mid-beat and everything in her went cold.
The gold had curled away to reveal a flat, gray metal beneath.
•••
The wind outside howled and the walls of the shabby inn creaked. Ian made his way down the darkened corridor toward the other rooms Sylvi had rented. It was almost dark as night despite the window near the stairs.
Rain spattered the window, and a low groan of wood sounded from somewhere in the building. Hopefully the thing would wait to break apart until after they’d left.
He knocked on Lady Camille’s door. She opened it before he’d even drawn his hand back. Behind her, all the other ladies were dressed in heavy traveling clothes.
“I see you were both quite exhausted.” Lady Camille gave him a knowing smile. “No doubt from our extensive travels yesterday.”
All the eyes in the room fixed on him. “Aye, yesterday was quite … strenuous.”
She welcomed him into the room. All the women’s bags were piled in the center of the room.
“I can see why ye dinna go to the stables,” he said. A growl of thunder rumbled overhead.
“We only just got ready.” Liv jabbed a pointed stare at Isabel and stroked a hand over her cat’s sleek back.
Isabel cast a hard glance back at Liv. “Some of us don’t care what we look like, so it’s easier to prepare.”
“Some of us are going to freeze in our inadequate clothes not meant for rain or wind or anything in Scotland,” Liv shot back.
“Ladies.” Percy’s patient voice interrupted the cat fight before claws could come out. The large green cloak hood draped down her back, and for the time being, her face was visible.
She eyed Isabel’s flimsy gold and red dress. “It might be prudent to wear something a little … more in light of the weather.”
Isabel shot a pout in her direction and turned her kohl-slanted gray eyes toward Ian. “What do you think?”
Ian opened his mouth to speak when the door to Lady Camille’s room flew open and Sylvi stormed in. Her hand was thrust in front of her with a coin nestled in her palm.
“Where did you get this?” she demanded.
He held his ground and stared at the coin. “Sylvi, I dinna know—”
She curled the metal into her fist and swung at him. He jerked back out of her way.
“I said where did you get it?” she snarled.
Lady Camille ran to them in a flurry of blue skirts and grabbed Sylvi’s arms to pull her back. “What in God’s name are you doing, Girl?”
Sylvi flung the older woman off her and threw a kick at Ian. He blocked the blow and shifted backward once more. His ankle met the hard wall, and he realized he had nowhere else to go. “The coin?” Ian asked. His mind whirled. “I dinna remember where I got it.”
“You’re lying.” Sylvi threw her weight into him and trapped his body against the wall, leveraging herself against his neck.
The strangle-until-they-can’t-talk questioning routine again. Wonderful.
An arm flew up between them, and a woman with copper hair stood in front of him.
“This is wrong.” Liv put her hands on her hips and stood her ground before him with a wide, stubborn stance. “You’re attacking a man who has no idea why.”
Sylvi glared at him over Liv’s shoulder. Her gaze once more as hard and cold as ice. Ian sidled from behind Liv’s protection. He would certainly not cower behind a woman. “Much as I appreciate yer assistance, I can handle myself.” He nodded his thanks.
Liv shrugged. “If she kills you, your death won’t be on my conscience.”
Sylvi’s eyes narrowed with accusation. The ribbon was not on her neck, and the scar showed an angry red against the white of her throat. “You knew. This whole time.” She shook her head. “You didn’t tell me. Not even after I told you … ”
A flash of hurt showed brilliant and cutting in her stare before she slid behind her cold exterior once more.
Guilt twisted in Ian’s gut and locked his tongue in place.
“How do you know this, Sylvi?” Percy put a hand on Sylvi’s shoulder. Sylvi flinched but did not strike her gentle friend.
She held out the coin once more. Now Ian was close enough to see the scrape of gold missing from its center and the metal beneath. His stomach churned with disgust.
“A counterfeit coin,” he said softly. One of those stolen from her family after they’d been murdered.
Sylvi did not meet his eyes. “There’s only one place you could obtain this.” She threw the coin to the ground at his feet. It spun on the hardwood floor in a ringing warble for a moment before settling next to the toe of his boot, its scratched face glaring up at him.
“Did you lie to me?” Gone was the harshness of her anger, replaced by a tone so quiet and sad, it punched into his gut with more force than her fist ever could.
Lady Camille reached out as though she meant to put her hand to Sylvi’s shoulder, then thought better of it and let her arm fall. “He could have gotten that from anywhere.”
Sylvi stared at him with vulnerability and pained betrayal on her face. “But he didn’t.”
He swallowed hard, knowing all eyes were on him, but caring only for the pale blue ones watching him. He knew he probably had some on his person, yet he couldn’t bring himself to tell Sylvi. Obviously that had been a mistake, and he had realized as much far too late. “I dinna want to hurt ye.”
She stiffened. “I’d have to care about you for you to hurt me.” Then she turned on her heel and left the room.
Chapter 15
Ian left the confused party behind and found Sylvi in the room they’d shared together.
The ribbon she’d forgotten earlier draped around the back of her neck in preparation to tie it into place once more. She remained turned away from him when he entered.
Her fingers shook while she attempted to secure a small bow in the black ribbon. “Of all the things to lie to me about. Of all the men you could be … ”
The ribbon fell to the floor in a resigned wisp, and she spun around to face him. Her cheeks flared red with anger. “Why?”
She curled her hand over the scar on her neck, blocking it from his view. What they had, the trust he’d built with her, was ruined.
And he had no one to blame but himself.
He swallowed and looked at the ground where the ribbon lay in a sad slip of black. “Because I’m a coward.”
“Yes, you are,” she replied in a hard voice.
“I’d hoped ye wouldna agree with me.”
He wished he were indeed as small as he felt so she could crush him under her boot and be done with it. He raised his gaze to her. “I’m sorry, Sylvi.”
She lifted her chin up a notch.
“I dinna tell ye in the beginning because I dinna have a part in making the coins and even knowing it happened while I was there is treasonous. And when ye told me everything … ” He wi
shed she could see the depth of his regret, experience how great the pain seared. “Then I wanted to, but ye looked at me so gentle, I dinna want to lose that. I couldna bring myself to admit it. I planned to tell ye everything when we had the tryst at our moonlit glen, when we were completely alone.”
“Which is why you were so upset when I said I couldn’t go.” She frowned. “You wouldn’t have told me then either though. You could have done so last night when we were alone, but you didn’t. I shared with you what happened to my family, and you held me and loved me. You comforted me.” Her lip curled with disgust.
She was slipping from him. He could feel it as surely as he’d felt her cold absence in bed when she’d left him in the middle of the night in evenings past. “I never did any of the things they did. I was only with them for four months. Ye knew all of this.”
“Knowing it and seeing it are two separate things. Seeing that coin … ” She broke off. “It only took minutes to kill my entire family.” Her voice was like a blade slipping into his heart. “How many families were killed in those four months? How many women raped? How many lives destroyed?”
Rage flashed through Ian, defiant and defensive. “I dinna do any of that. I wasna lying when I told ye I saved a woman from being hurt by them. I hadna realized what they’d been doing until that day. I put a stop to it immediately and left them.”
“What had you been doing for them?”
“I delivered messages, negotiated for them, sometimes I had matches with other swordsmen for money.” He shook his head. “Nothing like what you said.”
His words came out rushed in his attempt to make her understand. He needed her to know so she wouldn’t leave.
She bent and picked up her ribbon from where it lay discarded on the ground. “Go home, Ian.” She turned from him and worked the slender black silk around her neck with fingers that no longer trembled.
Go home.
As if it were so simple. As if his da wanted him back.
As if he could face the guilt he’d left behind.
Rain splashed against the window, and the sky seemed to darken further still. The weather matched the ugly emptiness of his mood.
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