“They were not hers to give,” John argued. “Return them to me, and I will forgive your act of violence.” His voice softened, as though she were a wayward child.
He had no idea just what acts of violence she was imagining at the moment. She turned to Nicholas. “Father, let MacEgan go. He did nothing more than defend me.”
“We have already reached an agreement.” Ewan did not direct the comment toward her, but instead toward her father. “I will leave Ardennes.”
Leave? But he couldn’t leave. Her heart thudded as though it had dropped through an abyss.
“As I told your father,” Ewan said tightly, “I no longer wish to wed Katherine. It was her request, not mine.” His dark green eyes bore into her with unspoken words. “There is no other reason for me to stay.”
Her lips parted, but Honora said nothing. What had she expected? That he would want to marry her instead? That he would give up his desire for land, for her?
No. He would return to his life, and she to hers. It was better this way.
Why then, did it hurt so much to think of him leaving?
Ewan cast a frigid stare toward John. “The horse is yours. As compensation for your injuries.” With a glance back at Ardennes, he added, “The matter is now finished.”
When Ewan was dismissed from the chamber, Honora followed him. She sensed that more had happened, more that he wasn’t telling her. But he never broke his stride, never slowed to speak to her. She had to run to catch up with him, and even then, she sensed he wanted nothing to do with her. What had changed?
“Ewan, what are you going to do?” She put her hand upon his shoulder.
The effect upon him was immediate. He placed his hand upon the small of her back and guided her toward the garden. He wanted privacy, she suddenly understood.
When they stood alone, he rested his hand upon the stone wall surrounding the garden of herbs. “I’m returning home to Laochre.” He reached out and took her bruised wrist, smoothing over the injured skin with his thumb. Her heartbeat quickened, and his gentle touch seemed to soothe the abrasion.
“Have you told Katherine?” Her sister would be devastated to find out that Ewan was abandoning her.
“Aye. She knows.” The tight muscles of Ewan’s forearm flexed against his weight. “I’m leaving at dawn.”
Honora wanted to beg him to stay, though she knew he wouldn’t. “This is my fault,” she whispered. “If I could go back and change it, I would.”
“It was my choice.” Ewan studied her closely, and bent forward. “I could never wed Katherine and be fair to her. Not when I wanted you instead.”
He leaned in and kissed her softly, the kiss of a man who meant everything to her.
But it was a kiss goodbye.
Chapter Thirteen
“Youwantedtoseeme.” Honora joined her father once more in his private chamber. The afternoon sun cast beams of light upon the earl’s chair in contrast to her sunken spirits. She had sought out Katherine, only to find that her sister was avoiding her.
Nicholas laced his fingers together upon the scarred wooden table, his posture stiff. “I am sending you back to Ceredys. John will escort you home.”
No. He wouldn’t force her to leave, not with the man who had injured her.
“I won’t go with him,” she insisted. If her father truly cared for her welfare, he’d have ordered John to leave, not Ewan. But now she understood that the anger and frustration on his face was directed toward her. “Last night in the chapel, John attacked me. Does that not matter to you? Honora extended her wrist and showed him the dark bruises encircling it.
But her father paid the injury no heed. “I am disappointed in you, Honora,” he said. “You shouldn’t have provoked Ceredys.”
“How can you come to John’s defense? He nearly broke my wrist!” She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Nicholas behaved as though the injury was her fault.
“Did you take the ruby?” he asked. “The one he spoke of?”
Outraged arguments filled up inside her, but what did it matter if she denied it? Her father believed the lies of a man who had harmed her.
“I took nothing.” The words were swollen inside her throat. “I swear to you.”
Nicholas let go of her wrist, shaking his head. “I don’t know whether you speak the truth or not.” He stared at her, his face grim. “I had hoped that Sir Ademar would take you off my hands. But now, even that possibility is lost.”
