“I can’t let your brothers die for you,” she said at last, her voice hollow. Swinging her leg to the side, she rested her cheek against his chest as the army closed in. “You gave me the greatest days of my life. I will never love any man as much as I love you now.”
“Don’t go,” he demanded. “Stay with me and fight.”
She reached out to touch his cheek. “I think I’ve always known that our paths could never be together.” Her blue eyes welled up and a tear spilled over. “I just wanted to hope that somehow, we would find a way.”
The pain of losing her was cutting his soul in half. Callum held her in his arms, kissing her hard. He tasted her tears and the bitterness of loss.
“Keep a part of me in your heart,” she whispered. “You’ll always live in mine.”
Then she dismounted from her horse and began the solitary walk toward the soldiers waiting for her.
Her father and the earl stood with their men. Marguerite stopped walking, halfway between them. Lord Penrith raised his hand, signaling his men to hold back.
For a long moment, she held Callum’s empty gaze with her own. His brothers spoke to him and he ordered them to go.
She could see in his eyes that he didn’t want to leave her. He was waiting for any sign from her that she would stay with him. But if she tried, he and his brothers would die.
There was only one way to force him to go. She touched her fingertips to her lips, and turned away, returning to the men who awaited her.
The force of her grief choked within her lungs, and she moved toward one of the soldiers, recognizing the horse he rode. It was Callum’s stallion Goliath. “Give me your mount,” she ordered.
When he obeyed, she led the horse forward and guided the animal toward Callum, who was still waiting. He let out a sharp whistle, and the horse obeyed, returning to him. She watched him dismount, and he adjusted her mare’s saddle, returning her own horse to her.
Upon the saddle, he had wrapped the hair ribbon he’d taken so long ago. And when she saw it, she understood he would no longer keep it with him. He was letting her go.
She cast one look back at Callum, and he disappeared over the hill.
The soldier helped her mount her horse, and it was all Marguerite could do to keep from breaking down into sobs. Instead, she gripped the frayed bit of silk and led her horse a few paces in front of her father. She made it clear that he was not to send any of his men after the MacKinlochs. If necessary, she would stand between them.
The Duc’s expression was grave, and he said nothing to her. When a few minutes had passed, Marguerite ordered, “Send the soldiers back to Duncraig, Your Grace.” The word ‘Father’ was heavy upon her tongue, and she found she could no longer call him that.
Guy de Montpierre studied her, then gave the order. The soldiers drew back, and only when they were gone, did she retreat. Lord Penrith drew his horse beside Marguerite, taking the reins of her mare, and leading her toward the coast.
She went with him, fully aware of the earl's anger. “You brought my father here, didn’t you?” He must have gathered the Duc’s men, as soon as she’d departed. Or had he followed her?
He gave a nod. “I knew MacKinloch would come back for you.”
She raised confused eyes to his. “I didn’t even know he was alive.”
“A man like Callum MacKinloch won’t die easily. Especially not when he has a woman like you to live for.”
Marguerite didn’t know what to say, so she fell into silence as they rode the remaining distance to the shore line. A large ship awaited them just off the coast. Servants had loaded up smaller boats and were bringing supplies back and forth. Her own trunks were among them.
The earl helped her down from her horse and gave the mare over to a servant. “You think I do not understand you,” he said. “You think I can’t possibly know what it is to love someone you cannot be with.” A stoic expression came over his face. “But you would be wrong.”
In his eyes, she saw the mirrored frustration of loss. The earl was marrying her out of obligation, nothing more.
“We would not be happy, either of us,” she said.
“No,” he admitted. “But you, at least, would not ask for more than I can give.” A twisted smile overtook his face. “It would not be so bad, Marguerite.”
The earl took her hand and walked with her toward the boat. He never let go of her, and when they were inside, he ordered the men to row them to the larger ship.
Marguerite turned to look at the gray water, feeling as if pieces of herself were drifting away on the waves. When she raised her eyes to the hills, there was no sign of Callum or his brothers. They had gone.
The emptiness filled up every part of her, covering her with such desolation, she could hardly breathe. Her hands were cold, and when the earl guided her on board the larger ship, she left his side, walking to the bow. She rested her arms upon the wood, feeling the wind sweep past her face and hair.
All around her, the men continued loading the ship, and her father boarded among the last of them. From her peripheral vision, it appeared that he wanted to speak with her. His expression looked tired, as if he’d aged a dozen years.
