‘So that’s it. I challenge you and I’m sentenced to a life living beside you and not with you?’
‘It is better,’ he said. ‘You have your purpose. You have your child.’
‘It isn’t enough.’
‘How can it not be enough?’ he raged. ‘How can it not be enough? You were content to go and live with your Duke and you would’ve had no more from him. Is it the title you miss? The balls?’
‘You’re right. I would’ve had nothing more with him and I wouldn’t have minded because I wouldn’t have wanted more. I wouldn’t have expected more. Not for myself. Not from myself. But with you…’
‘How?’ he asked. ‘How have you discovered this with me?’
‘Because you brushed my hair. Because you got the jewellery box. Because you tried to rescue that boy when many men would’ve left him as a casualty of war. Because I see who you are and you can tell me that man is dead, but I know he is not.’
He only stood for a moment, looking like stone. And she let tears fall from her eyes. Let them spill down her cheeks. ‘Because I have all these tears for you,’ she whispered. ‘For us.’
‘Do not waste your tears on me,’ he said. ‘I neither want nor need them.’
He didn’t leave the room. He didn’t tell her to go. Instead, he laid down on the bed, as if he was going to sleep, as if he was going to ignore everything that had just happened between them. And she realised she had no escape. No reprieve. If the man wanted to retreat inside himself, there was nothing she could do. She could not leave the castle. She could not leave him. And she didn’t want to, because she loved him. But while he had done enough to reach her, while this thing between them had broken down the walls inside her, she had not done enough to breach the walls in him.
And that was a kind of despair that she feared might be all-consuming.
She dressed herself and, refusing to be moved from her bed, laid down on the other side of the mattress. But the space between them might as well have been furlongs apart.
For his roughness and their passion had not succeeded in putting distance between them.
But his denial of their love had.
And she did not know how she would ever find a way to repair it.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
They had neither spoken nor touched for two days. Every night, she would lay down in her nightdress beside him and turn away.
But what had been said needed to be said. Love.
He had no wish for her love.
Love.
He could think of nothing he wanted less.
The distance between them was so great he was not terribly surprised when she did not join him for supper. But when he found the baby wailing in his room and Penny did not come, he began to feel concerned.
The wet nurse came and looked from Camden to Lachlan.
‘Where is the lady?’
‘I’ve not seen her.’
‘It’s unusual,’ the wet nurse said, picking up the babe and putting him to her breast.
It was more than unusual. He could not imagine his wife leaving when the baby might need her.
‘See to the babe,’ he said.
He walked out of the room, and made his way down the great, long corridor, searching for Rona. ‘Where is Lady Bain?’ he asked.
‘I’ve not seen her. Not since mid-morning.’
He continued to search. Not only was there no sign of her, there was no sign of Isla, her maid. Of course, they could have gone down to the village, but Penny had not been doing so, not since the birth of the baby. And certainly not since the execution of Callum.
Something felt wrong.
Had she left him?
No. She might leave him, but she would never leave her bairn. For all that he’d said to her the child was a foundling, he did believe her when she said he was like a son of her own body. He had seen it in the way she had taken care of him. He continued to search the castle and the grounds. And he was about to carry on to the village, when he noticed a flash of blue in a thicket in the courtyard.
He made his way to the blue and what he saw made his stomach tight with dread.
Isla.
Crumpled on the ground, blood on her head.
He knelt down and could see the girl was breathing, but only just. She was unconscious. He picked her up, holding her to his chest as he carried her towards the castle. The girl was small, insubstantial, and it was no effort for him to carry her. Still, his heart was hammering, because he knew. He knew that if Isla was in such a state, then Penny was worse, or…
A great, wrenching pain nearly cleaved his chest in two.
No. He would not think of it.
He could not.
He set Isla down in the great hall. ‘Rona,’ he said. ‘We need a healer. Someone. Anyone.’
The housekeeper’s face contorted in horror and she went to her knees by Isla’s still form. ‘What happened?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Where is Lady Bain?’
‘I don’t know that either. I’m going to trust you to make sure Isla is taken care of. But I have to go and find my wife.’
Lachlan’s sword was already strapped to his hip and he went outside, ready to give orders for his horse to be readied.
But there were men who were not present.
And his suspicions were deeply roused.
‘William,’ he said. ‘Ready my horse.’
‘Aye,’ the lad said.
He put his hand on the lad’s shoulder. ‘Where is Paden?’
‘I saw him earlier,’ he said. ‘Going into the wood.’
‘Was he alone?’ Lachlan asked.
‘Aye. But he had…he had something large concealed in a cloak. On his horse.’
Lachlan bit back a curse. ‘Be my eyes here. You report back to me anything you hear. Do not make your loyalty to me explicitly known.’
‘I think there is no chance they wouldn’t guess it,’ William said. ‘I wouldn’t be here, I wouldn’t be part of this clan if not for you.’
‘And I trust in your loyalty. But make it seem as if you might move with the wind. If it be changing.’
‘What is it you think is happening?’
‘My wife is gone. I found her maid unconscious. And Paden has vanished. I have my suspicions. But I will see them confirmed. And if I am correct, I will turn all the flowers in the courtyard red with the blood of those who dared touch my wife.’
* * *
Penny’s head ached. She could not remember what had happened. She couldn’t remember where she was. It was difficult for her to open her eyes, but when she did, she found that she couldn’t have remembered where she was, because…she had no idea. And she was certain she had not been brought here awake.
Dimly, she became aware that her feet and hands were numb. That they were tied.
She couldn’t move.
She shifted and that was when she saw him.
Paden.
‘What have you done with me?’
‘You’re awake,’ he said.
Her only response was to blink.
He made a dismissive sound. ‘You won’t be for long.’
‘What are you doing?’
‘I’ll give you no explanation. You have your part to play in it.’
And here she was, being treated like a pawn again. Bound and lying on the ground in the middle of a forest and not being told why.
Of all the things to anger her, it was a strange thing.
But that was perfect. For if he did not think that she mattered, if he did not think that she mattered or could accomplish anything, then he might let his guard down and underestimate her.
It was the look of hatred on his face that rattled her. It was savage and much more intense than anything she had seen before.
<
br /> Dimly, she could remember that she and Isla had been attacked, ambushed, outside the castle. Isla…
‘What did you do to my maid?’
‘She might live,’ he said. ‘You, though, you probably won’t.’
Her heart felt torn in two. And it wasn’t even so much fear of losing her own life as it was leaving the life that she had at the castle. Camden. Lachlan.
She loved.
Whole and bright and brilliant for the first time in her life.
And it didn’t matter if Lachlan loved her back, she loved him. And she had spent the last two days withholding that from him because she was wounded. And what good had it done her? It hadn’t done her any. It was foolish. So utterly foolish.
Two days wasted when she could’ve loved him. And what had her spite been for? Trying to protect herself. Again.
Yes, he had hurt her. But he’d been trying to hurt her. He’d been trying to drive her away because it was all he knew how to do. Because he was a man who had experienced terrible pain and he hadn’t been able to break through that yet.
Apparently her own breakthrough was imperfect.
It didn’t matter. Now none of it mattered and, if she could go back and do it differently, she would. If she could go back and simply love him, with everything she had, with no thought to her own protection, then she would. Because he was the conqueror of her heart.
Joyfully. Intentionally. She had allowed him to claim her and was happier for it. Or she would’ve been, if she hadn’t been so determined to make his rejection about her.
Yes, he had tried to make it so. But he was protecting himself.
For he was not so endlessly brave as all that.
He was afraid of all that he could not control. And all the evils of the world that he could not keep at bay.
Then she had been kidnapped.
Who knew what would happen?
‘You’re using me as bait, aren’t you?’
Because if he had wanted to kill her, it would’ve been easy. But, no, he wanted to kill Lachlan. And there would be no way he could accomplish that cleanly.
‘Bait. The start of a revolution. The start of a war. If the clan believes that you have been murdered by Clan Darrach, all the better.’ A grin lifted his lips. ‘I couldn’t challenge him at the castle now, could I? And a man who has survived a decade of war would make for a terrible challenge. But if he sees his woman bound with a sword at her throat, he’ll be forced to surrender. And then, when the clan hears of your murder, of Lachlan’s…we will blame it on Clan Darrach and my path to Laird will be clear. It’s what Callum would’ve done if he could think of anyone but himself and his own prick. But, no. He was angry, but he didn’t act. If a man doesn’t like the direction his clan is going, then he should take action for himself.’
‘You’re a coward,’ she spat. ‘Not even brave enough to challenge Lachlan in a real fight. But Lachlan cares about the clan.’ Her chest went tight. ‘Above all. You’ve misjudged him.’
‘Nay, lass, I don’t think I have. And his weakness, like Callum’s, will be his end. I will take the power. And all the Laird’s money is to go to the clan. He’s willed it so.’
And then he would have it all. Lachlan’s money and power and both of them out of the way.
‘I’ll kill that bairn of yours as well,’ Paden said. A chill went down her spine. ‘Callum’s whelp. There need not be any more blood MacKenzies in the castle. No one who might challenge my claim.’
‘My husband sought to take care of the clan. And nothing else. My husband has spent his life working to get here so that he might do right for his people. You are nothing more than a self-seeking bastard.’
‘Some fine English lady you are.’
A surge of rage went through her, of power. ‘No, I’m no fine English lady. I’m Lady Penelope Bain. Of Clan MacKenzie.’
And as she lay there, her body aching, she didn’t even know what to hope for. Because if Lachlan came, then he might be killed.
But if he didn’t…then she certainly would be.
She whispered a silent prayer.
Please, if you love me, stay away.
For if he loved her…he might sacrifice for her.
He had to live. Because if he didn’t live, Camden wouldn’t live.
She needed them both to live. And this was why people feared love.
Because loving someone as much as she loved them hurt. Even while she was facing her own end, her worry was for them.
‘Don’t bother to pray for deliverance,’ Paden said. ‘It isn’t going to come.’
Despair rolled through her. But then she looked up and saw a bird on the branch of a tree, bobbing his head, hopping back and forth. An absurdly cheerful thing in the face of all this.
But it meant something.
Because it was the bird that had made her sure that Lachlan was good all those years ago. And it was the memory of that that had given her faith in him in the present.
He would come. He would come for her.
And they would triumph.
Because there was no point of the world where it could be otherwise.
Lachlan might not be able to believe in hope.
But she believed in him.
And now, that would have to be enough.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Lachlan’s blood was fire and he didn’t know who among his own men he could trust. So he rode out into the woods with his horse and his sword and the rage that fuelled him.
There was a sign, easy enough for even a casual tracker to follow. Evidence that a horse had gone this way recently. And it could be from any number of men, it was true. But he had to trust that it was leading him to Penny.
Penny.
And what if she died? What then?
He had told her, revenge was not a dream, it was a plan. And that was what he had tried to fashion out of his life. A plan.
A goal divorced from feelings so that he did not become his father.
So that he did not become his mother.
There was too much at stake.
But it did not insulate him now. Because somewhere along the line Penny had become a dream. She had slipped beneath his skin, beneath his defences. And though he hadn’t wanted it, it was so.
He followed the path that William had set him on. When he came to the end of the trail he stopped and saw the broken branches just off there. He knew that he’d found them.
He drew his sword and rode into the clearing.
And there she was. Bound.
Suddenly Paden was behind her, his sword at her throat.
The smile on the man’s face was savage. ‘There you are. I was expecting you.’
‘I will gut you like the treasonous dog you are,’ Lachlan said.
‘I don’t think you will.’ Disquiet filled Lachlan’s gut. ‘I’m not sad to be found by you, Lachlan. I have men in wait. Did young William send you this way? Your man. It may shock you to learn that your own man betrayed you.’
That hit him with the force of a bullet.
‘No,’ Lachlan said.
‘Oh, yes. Young William is from Clan MacConnell. His mother left home when there was nothing left, went to Clan MacKenzie for protection. Your father killed her.’
Fire swept through his veins. ‘I’ve nothing to do with what that bastard did.’
‘It doesn’t matter. William wanted revenge. I do have it. At my hand.’
‘Leave Penny be.’
‘I have no quarrel with your woman. If it weren’t for you, she would be nothing. She wouldn’t be here. But I also have no fear over cutting her neck.’
He pressed the blade against her throat, drawing blood. Penny’s eyes were wide and fury rose up in Lachlan’s veins.
‘Drop your sword, my Laird.’
He
tightened his grip on the weapon. ‘You play a dangerous game.’
‘You can let me kill her. And while I finish you could easily kill me. It is only a problem if the lass is worth your life.’
And here it was.
Weakness.
Because he could not let them harm Penny. Because he should care about the clan, only the clan. And his own life mattered only as far as it benefitted the well-being of his people.
But she mattered. She was the sun and the stars. The way he could guide himself. Without her, he was only a blade. Nothing more. Without her, he could not be the leader that he needed to be. Without her…
It didn’t matter. None of it did.
Without her it was lost. Whatever he’d been trying to win. What did the clan matter—rock and dirt and tradition—if there was no heart?
And Paden was right. He had identified his weakness. For his weakness was this woman.
This was love.
And love was exactly what he’d feared.
Still, in the face of it, in the face of the very reason he’d sought to keep his heart free of love, mercy and forgiveness…
He dropped his sword.
Penny let out a short scream, a tear trailing down her cheek.
Two of his men came out from behind the trees, wielding their swords.
Lachlan held his hands out. ‘Release her.’
‘No,’ Paden said. He kept his sword at her throat and the men began to advance on Lachlan. In a flash, he knew exactly what he must do. The blade bit deeper into Penny’s throat and blood trickled down her beautiful skin.
He saw red.
He would have only a breath, then he would lose her.
But he would not allow her to be lost.
He roared and charged at Paden and the man froze, clearly unwilling to kill her quite yet as she was his only means of controlling Lachlan.
A mistake.
Lachlan wrapped his fist around the blade, ignoring it as it sliced into his palm, and wrenched it away from her throat, pulling it from the man’s grip. Bloody, he pushed his fist into Paden’s gut. And when the man fell back he took up his sword by the handle and separated his head from his shoulders in one fluid movement.
Harlequin Historical July 2020 - Box Set 1 of 2 Page 71