“Don’t be hurt on my behalf. No matter what happens,” she urged.
He kept his arms locked around her, breathing in the scent of her skin and marking a memory. The softness of her, the wordless gratitude, were so unexpected he couldn’t speak a word. Instead, he let his touch speak for him, resting his face against her hair while both arms held her tight.
“I feel safe with you,” she confessed. “And . . . I need you to return.”
Her blue eyes revealed the uncertainty, and she reached up to touch his roughened cheek. Aye, he fully intended to return to this woman. Especially with the way she was looking at him now.
“Remain in hiding until I come for you,” he commanded. Without knowing why, he leaned down and kissed her hard. She nodded, and when he left, he shielded the wayward thoughts and the empty ache that had begun inside him.
The chamber was so frigid, Celeste could see her breath against the lonely torch Marguerite had given her. The cold night was an enemy impossible to defeat, despite the fur she wrapped around herself. It was a fear that sank into her veins, reminding her of how alone she was.
She leaned against the wall, thinking of Dougal. He possessed a strength that made her want to lean upon him and take comfort. With each day she’d spent at his side, her feelings for him had only intensified.
She’d wed Edmon de Laurent to give Melisandre the life neither of them had before. Though it had broken her apart to leave Dougal, she’d believed it was wiser to follow the urging of her head rather than her heart. She’d sacrificed herself, leaving the man she loved...the man she had never stopped loving. She couldn’t say what had rekindled the feelings, but time had not diminished them. She’d only pressed them deep inside, believing they would go away.
Beneath the fur coverlet Marguerite had given her, Celeste was trembling, though no longer from the cold. Dougal’s kiss had twined around her fragile heart, tempting her to see the man he was and not the guardian he represented.
Was there anything left between them now? Or was he protecting her only for the gain it would bring him? He might not want her anymore . . . only a stallion for his beloved mare. Guarding her was a means to an end. Hadn’t he pushed her aside time and again?
Let him go, her head insisted. Find another way to protect Melisandre. A way that didn’t involve risking her feelings.
Celeste sensed that she was treading within shallow water that could drown her. It would take very little to push Dougal over the edge, to bring him into her bed. And after it was done, he might claim his own vengeance, leaving her behind.
Her earlier plan now seemed like the impulsive plan of a girl, not one that would offer any protection. Even if she did conceive a child, Rowena would never leave her in peace. The woman was ruthless and cared for nothing, save her own children. It was not safe to return. And it was not safe for Melisandre.
Dougal would keep his word to defend them both. But each moment she spent with him weakened the walls around her heart. He deserved better than a woman like her. She should let him go, ignoring the desire he’d conjured.
For if she did set aside her inhibitions, it would bare her heart in a way that would only break when they parted ways.
Dougal rode for an hour north while the soldiers searched Cairnross. Although Marguerite had promised that it was impossible for anyone to find Celeste, he couldn’t let go of the sense that he should be there with her. Both of them knew what would happen if they caught her.
He gritted his teeth against the thought, turning back and retracing his path back toward the fortress. When he reached the river, he drew the mare into the water, hiding her tracks there. Again, he changed direction, leading Ivory into the hills, obscuring any tracks he’d made. He waited on higher ground until it was late afternoon. Only then did he see Callum’s men leading Lord Eiloch’s forces upon the trail he’d made. He breathed easier when they took the bait, for it meant they had not found Celeste.
Impatience pulled at him to go to her, to bring her out from underground and ensure that she was safe. A vision pulled at his mind, of her arms around him, her body pressed close.
The past few days had worn both of them down, and in the face of the threats surrounding them, there was the need to reaffirm life. To hold her skin against his, daring to reach for a woman he was never supposed to have.
Was it worth it, to kneel before her body to worship, knowing that she might once again walk away? Or could he convince her to look past his poverty to see the man he was?
Celeste didn’t know how many hours passed or how long she was waiting in the dim light before the trapdoor swung open.
“Are you all right?” came the voice of Dougal. He climbed down the ladder and helped her back to her feet.
No, she wasn’t. But Celeste forced herself to answer yes, despite her chattering teeth. She’d remained beneath the fur coverlet, trying to stay warm. Her hands were numb, her cheeks icy from remaining belowground for so long.
“Come above, and I’ll see to it that you get warm.” His voice held worry, and he guided her hands to rest upon the ladder rungs.
Her hands stilled upon the wood, and she paused a moment. “What happened to the soldiers?”
His hands encircled her waist, and he gave her a slight nudge, silently encouraging her to climb. “Callum let them search here, while I went riding with Ivory, making a trail to the north. It should keep them occupied for a while.”
Though she climbed up a single rung, Celeste turned to face him while his hands remained at her waist. “Will they be back?”
“Not this night,” he said. “You can get warm and sleep without fear.”
She wasn’t certain that was true, but she managed a nod. “Thank you for your help.”
“I keep my promises, Celeste. I’ll let nothing happen to you.”
