The Highlander's Woman (The Reckless Rockwoods #3)

by Monica Burns

  “I took the room because your sister insisted, and because for all intents and purposes I am the mistress of this house, you arrogant jackass.” Patience turned away from him once more, and he followed.

  “You can no’ sleep there, Patience,” he growled fiercely.

  Julian reached out to keep her from leaving the room. Rough, scaly skin rubbed against the pads of his fingers. The scarred skin distracted him for a moment as a raw anguish for what she’d suffered crashed through him. Before he could say a word, she broke free of his grasp with a violent tug.

  “Do not touch me.” Block ice cut from Crianlarich’s frozen loch in the dead of winter could have warmed the air between them better than her voice.

  “Why should I no’ touch you, Patience?” He tried to direct his sightless gaze to where her face should be. “As my wife, I have the right to touch you whenever and however I wish.”

  “Whenever and however—” she exclaimed with all the fire of the Stewart clan. “You can go straight to hell, Julian MacTavish. The law may give you the right to take what you want of me, but you will not find me a willing participant.”

  “But were you no’ willing to let me touch you just a few moments ago?” he murmured as he stepped forward and her clothes brushed across his chest.

  “That was different… I was…” The faint hint of lilacs drifted beneath his nose. He’d always loved the way she smelled. The confusion in her voice puzzled him as he sensed her anger had dissipated. The sudden tension pulsating in her beat its way into his own body.

  “You were what, Patience?”

  “I was trying… I wanted… I wanted to make it like it was before everything went wrong between us.”

  The statement made him stiffen. He closed his eyes for a brief moment then turned away from her. His clothes—where did he leave his clothes? He visualized where he’d left them and cautiously moved forward. Grateful he knew every inch of his bedroom, his feet brushed against his shirt. He bent over and retrieved it then pushed his arms into the sleeves. As he buttoned the linen garment he cleared his throat.

  “Why would you want things to be as they were, Patience? You made your opinion of me quite clear several months ago.” Julian heard the bitterness echoing in his quiet words.

  “I was wrong,” she said softly. An undefined emotion ran like a fast Highland brook beneath her words. “I should have believed you—trusted you.”

  Stunned by her words, Julian’s fingers fumbled as he buckled his kilt. It was the second time since she’d returned that she’d been wrong not to believe him. He turned toward her.

  “Do you no’ think it’s a bit late for that, Patience,” he said in a tight voice. After all this time she’d chosen this moment to admit she judged him wrongly. He wasn’t sure what to make of her change of heart.

  “No, I don’t think it’s ever too late,” she said softly yet in a firm voice that exemplified her stubborn Rockwood nature. “I told you a long time ago that we married too quickly. We didn’t take the time to get to know each other first.”

  “Are you proposing we do that now?” Tension made his jaw ache. “It does no’ make sense to do so when we are to be divorced.”

  The soft rustle of her gown broke the stillness in the room. Julian froze as he breathed in her sweet scent the instant she stopped in front of him. Although she barely made a sound, the fragility vibrating off her puzzled him.

  “We are both different people now, Julian. But we cared for each other once.” Her voice was a piece of silk sliding across his senses. “Can’t we just try to find the people we once were inside the people we are now?”

  Patience’s hand grasped his. The touch sent an electric shock up his arm. Of all the women he’d ever known, she was the only one who had the ability to bring him to his knees whenever she asked for something. This time it was different. In the back of his head, a warning as loud as the screech from a badly played bagpipe filtered its way to the front of his brain.

  He’d be a fool to agree to her proposition. But deep inside he was willing to be that fool if it meant having just a few hours more with her before she walked out of his life forever. His tongue was thick in his mouth as he debated how to agree to her proposal without revealing he was a drowning man eager to accept her offer of a life preserver.

  “Please, Julian.” If he’d not already made up his mind, her fervent, sweet plea would have easily convinced him.

  “As you wish,” he said with a stoicism that blessedly hid the strength of the emotions racing through him.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  The note of relief in her voice took him by surprise. Was it possible she’d been worried he’d say no? Had she forgotten he’d never been able to say no to her? An awkward silence drifted between them until she leaned into him and kissed his cheek. The unexpected caress was a tender one that astonished him.

  “Shall we go for a walk after Mrs. Lester sends up some breakfast for you?” The sweet note of her voice was almost that of a loving wife. Desperately, he tried to stifle the happiness threatening to rob him of all his senses. God almighty, what would he do when she left him? He chose to ignore the question.

  “If you like.”

  Julian nodded as he allowed himself to relish the contentment slowly winding its way through him. He would deal with the hell he’d be cast into once she was gone. Until then he would savor the time he had with her.

  § § §

  The sun warmed Julian’s face as he walked through the thick grass with Patience’s arm linked with his. They walked for some distance in a silence that was awkward, yet pleasant, at the same time. A small laugh escaped her.

  “I’m feeling as gauche as a debutante at her first ball.” Her voice was a breathless sound that reminded him of the night he’d met her.

  “As I recall you were equally flustered the night we met.”

  “I was not,” she exclaimed. The moment he arched his eyebrows she laughed. “All right, flustered. But not without cause, you terrified me.”

  “What the devil did I do that made you afraid of me?” he growled irritated by the thought he’d made her uncomfortable at their first meeting.

  “I think terrifying is the wrong word,” she said ruefully. “Perhaps intimidating is a better choice. Every woman in the room was glaring at me from the moment Ewan MacLaren introduced us.”

  “I did no’ notice,” he said with a shrug. Julian wasn’t about to admit she was the only thing he could concentrate on that night.

  “Of course, you wouldn’t.” There was a smile in her voice that made him visualize the way her mouth always quirked upward when she was amused. “You’ve always been oblivious as to how women look at you or me when I’m with you.”

  “I mean I did no’ notice because all I could see was you.”

  “Oh.” Her response was little more than a gasp and a smile tugged his mouth. “Did I no’ ever tell you why I asked Ewan to introduce us?”

  “No,” she murmured.

  “It was because of your laugh.”

  “My laugh?” she said with surprise.

  “Aye, that and your appetite. I have never cared for women who do no’ allow themselves to enjoy a meal.”

  “I think I prefer the first reason over the second.” The musical sound of her laugh was as warm as the sun on his face. He grinned.

  “Perhaps I should have said your appetite was the first thing about you I found pleasing then your laugh.”

  “I would still prefer my laugh as the main reason you had Ewan introduce us.”

  “I was worried he might not have,” he muttered with a scowl as he remembered the other man’s reluctance to present him to Patience.

  “Why would he do that?”

  “He said he had been considering courting you himself.”

  “Good Lord,” she gasped.

  “Then you would no’ have accepted his suit?”

  “Ewan?” Her body shook slightly, and he realized she was shaking her head v
igorously. “No. I like him a great deal, but he’s even more intimidating than you.”

  “I do no’ like the way you keep using the word intimidating,” he grumbled in disgust.

  “Don’t you dare try to deny it, Julian MacTavish.”

  “I do no’ intimidate people.”

  Annoyed, he came to an abrupt stop. Patience stumbled as he halted and clung to him to avoid falling. He tried not to enjoy the pleasant sensation of her pressed into his side. He failed.

  “Oh? Then explain why you didn’t ask, but arrogantly stated you would take me riding the next day.”

  “Do no’ make me sound like a tyrant,” he snapped.

  “I’m not trying to. But you do like to get your own way. That’s something entirely different.” There was a note of amusement in her voice, and he grimaced.

  “I wanted you to myself,” he muttered defensively. “Name something else where you find me intimidating.”

  “The day you proposed,” she said quietly. “You refused to listen to my objections that it was too soon to marry.”

  “If you did no’ want to marry me, why did you?” he said stiffly. Did she really believe he’d coerced her into marrying him?

  “I married you because I fell in love with you.”

  Her reply referred to the past not the present and his heart sank. Patience didn’t speak for a long moment. Despite her request they get to know one another better, he didn’t have the courage to ask her how she felt now. She suddenly heaved a sigh.

  “It was also hard for me to believe you could love me as much as I loved you.”

  “You do no’ make any sense, Patience. Why would you think such a thing?”

  “Because every other man in the past who’d courted me, for whatever reason, never stayed.”

  “They were fools,” he bit out. A cold chill sprinted through his veins at the thought he might have lost her to another man.

  “No, they simply didn’t want an eccentric wife,” she said. “Especially a wife incapable of…”

  “Incapable of what?” Julian frowned at the note of sorrow in her voice.

  “Nothing,” she said quietly.

  Her dispassionate response almost hid her grief, but he heard it nonetheless. The sudden memory of her blaming herself for her brother’s death shortly after she woke up at Melton House filled his head. Did she really think she was to blame for Devon and Caleb? He came to an abrupt halt, and she stumbled against him once more, a small cry of surprise escaping her.

  “Do no’ say it’s nothing,” he bit out through clenched teeth. “You did no’ finish that remark because you think that unless you interpret the an dara sealladh correctly you are to blame when bad things happen.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped, but he heard the guilt layered beneath her words

  “You forget I was there when Caleb and Devon died,” he snarled. “I saw your face when they fell, and I heard you blame yourself after the fire.”

  “Very well,” she said in a harsh voice. “I am to blame. I had the same vision three different times, and I failed to understand what it meant. If I had, maybe I could have saved them—saved you and your father.”

  “Christ almighty, Patience. Even if you could have known there would be a fire or the carriage accident, you could no’ have known when or where the events would take place. You have always said your visions are no’ always clear. You can no’ blame yourself.”

  Silence greeted his fierce censure, and he desperately wished he could see her face. She pulled away from him, but Julian immediately reached out for her. His fingers slipped on the smooth silk of her sleeve until his hand caught her wrist and held her fast. Beneath his fingers a hard layer of scar tissue made him wince. The moment he did so, she stiffened and tugged hard against his firm hold. Julian let her go, his brain trying to comprehend the pain she’d suffered. It was impossible to do so.

  For the first time, it occurred to him that her rejection of him after the fire might not have been her belief he’d been unfaithful, but something altogether different. What if it hadn’t been the discord between them, but her fear he would find her hideous after being burned so badly. She’d not only refused to see him after the fire, but the rest of the Rockwood clan had found themselves barred from her rooms. The only exceptions for the first three months were the doctor and Aunt Matilda.

  If Patience had thought herself a monster then, he could only imagine what she might think his reaction would be. Aunt Matilda had said the scars were not as bad as Patience thought. But if he was right, it indicated how little Patience knew him. The only thing her scars would ever stir in him was the fact that he couldn’t have carried the burden of the pain she’d suffered.

  Her scars would never make him love her any less. They could only make him love her all the more for her courage. How was it he’d never taken the time to explain to Patience what it was about her that he loved? From the first moment he’d heard her laughter, it had been her heart—her soul—that had called to him. It had taken just one look into her brown eyes, and he’d been lost.

  “I wish I’d died that night, too,” her whisper was almost audible, but it jerked him out of his thoughts as if she’d slapped him. Anger swelled over him like a powerful wave. His hands grasped her shoulders as he growled at his inability to see her face.

  “I told ye once before ye are never tae say such a thing again in my presence, Patience MacTavish,” he growled with a tight fury he could barely contain. “No’ ever. Do you understand?”

  When she didn’t answer he shook her hard.

  “Answer me, Patience. Do ye understand?”

  “Yes.” There were tears in her voice and instinct made him pull her close.

  “It was no’ your fault, Patience. It was a tragedy, one ye can no’ take the blame for, lass. It was terrible enough for your family to lose Caleb and Devin. Would ye be so selfish as to wish one more death for all of us to grieve for?”

  Patience shuddered against him. Julian’s arms tightened around her as he remembered the look of defeat on her face after the two men had fallen into the flames. He’d been certain she’d resigned herself to death at that moment in time as well. The thought had filled him with a horror unlike anything he’d ever known, and he’d made her angry enough to leap through the fire into his arms.

  Now, after all she’d been through, to hear her say she wished he’d just stood by and watched her die made him realize the extent of her anguish. It wasn’t simply the physical agony she’d suffered for so long after the fire. He knew she was convinced her scars made her a monster. But those scars represented more than just her mistaken notion that she was a monstrous creature to be pitied. They were a constant reminder of the horrors of that night. Patience slowly pushed her way out of his arms and stepped back from him.

  “I think we should go back to the house,” she said in a composed voice. “It’s almost teatime, and you didn’t eat very much lunch.”

  “Do no’ try to change the subject.”

  “I’m not. I’m simply refusing to discuss the past anymore.”

  “For how long?” he demanded harshly. “You can no’ let this fester inside you, Patience. It is no’ healthy.”

  “Let me be, Julian. I have no desire to discuss the matter any further.” The obstinate tone in her voice made him frown. He’d backed her into a corner, and if he pushed her too hard he would live to regret it.

  “As you wish,” he said with a shrug as he fought to hide his frustration. Patience slid her arm through his again, but didn’t press into him as she had earlier. It indicated the invisible gap between them had widened, and he didn’t know if it were possible to bridge the divide.

  Chapter 13

  * * *

  “Kings bishop four to kings three. Checkmate.”

  The clink of marble against the marble echoed its way upward to the library’s tall ceiling as Muireall planted her chess piece on the board. In his mind’s eye, all of the chess pieces and thei
r placement were vividly etched in his head. Julian growled softly at how Muireall had capitalized on the error he’d made a few moves back. His sister’s gleeful laugh made him scowl in her direction.

  “You do no’ need to gloat, Muireall. It is no’ ladylike,” he grumbled.

  Beside him, he could hear the faint coughing noise Patience made as she choked back laughter. He turned his head toward the sound. Although he could not see her face, he knew she was struggling to hide her amusement. The instant he scowled at her, she laughed as hard as his sister.

  “I do no’ understand what you find so amusing,” he said with irritation.

  “I’m sorry, Julian,” Muireall said with distinct amusement.

  “You do no’ sound like it.” He shook his head in disgust.

  “If it makes you feel better, you were close to winning.” This time there was a note of regret in Muireall’s voice, and he grimaced. Before he could say anything, Patience’s hand touched his forearm in a silent gesture of chastisement.

  “Don’t you dare feel guilty for winning, Muireall MacTavish,” Patience chided. “You won fair and square. Your brother had the advantage until just a few moments ago. He’s simply annoyed that you took advantage of his mistake.”

  “A mistake caused by my wife,” Julian growled.

  “Me?” Patience’s voice was filled with surprise and amused disbelief.

  “Aye, the honey-sweet scent of your hair distracted me,” he said as he bit back a grin. Patience grew still beside him, and Muireall gave an unladylike snort of laughter.

  “Your face is red, Patience.”

  Julian grinned openly as the air stirred beside him the moment Patience lifted her hands to her face. When he sensed her about to retreat from him, he quickly caught her hand. The horrific scars from her burns were on the opposite side of her body, and she didn’t try to jerk free of his grasp. Deliberately he traced a small circle in the small hollow of her wrist with his thumb. Julian heard her rapid breathing, and he carried her hand upward to kiss her fingertips.