“I sought sanctuary with the MacKinlochs,” Celeste said quietly. “Because your wife tried to murder any child I might have conceived.”
A darkness clouded his judgment, and Dougal hardly heard the rest of the conversation. All he could think of was the way she’d behaved these past few days. She had kissed him first and had tempted him each moment they were alone. Even last night, she’d asked him to tend her in the bath, knowing it would lead to a night of lovemaking.
A night where she intended to steal a child from him.
She used you. She never wanted you at all, any more than any woman ever has. Even your own mother didn’t want you.
The words taunted him, digging into his conscience. As an adolescent, he’d poured his rage and grief into fighting, lashing out at anyone and everyone. But it had done nothing to heal the emptiness there. After his brothers were freed, it had calmed his unrest, but still he preferred solitude.
He’d been a fool to think that Celeste might love him. And he deserved the humiliating shame she’d evoked.
His anger was so strong, he began to walk away. If he stayed another moment, he couldn't trust himself not to lash out with with words he'd regret later. But right now he didn’t care what Celeste did or where she went.
The door struck hard behind him, but he continued his path forward. She could go or stay; it made no difference anymore.
Dougal made it as far as the stable, where he took Ivory out of the stall, preparing her to ride. But hurried footsteps approached, and he was well aware that Celeste wasn’t about to let him leave without confronting him.
“Lionel was wrong about what he said.” She stood in front of the doorway to block him from leaving.
He stepped back from the horse, moving closer. “I don’t believe you. At every moment we were alone, you offered yourself. I should have known better.”
She paled and lowered her gaze. “I let go of that idea within a day. It was a desperate thought, one I couldn’t bring myself to do.”
The lies were an acid, burning at his mood. She stood there like a martyr, willing to sacrifice herself to save his family. He closed in, bringing her back against the wooden stall. “And last night, you decided to lower yourself after all. To me, a man you would never consider marrying.”
“You’re wrong,” she said, her hands clenched at her sides. “I loved you. I still do.”
“You’ve gotten good at lying.” He led Ivory forward, stopping in front of her. “Is that why you invited me in your bed? To steal a child and pass him off as your dead husband’s?”
She shook her head slowly. But he couldn’t believe a treacherous word she said. He pushed his way past her, taking Ivory outside.
“Dougal, don’t go,” she pleaded.
“Why not? Because you want me to continue warming your bed until you find a man worth marrying?”
She gripped her waist as if he’d struck her. A tear spilled over, but she didn’t stop him when he took the horse. Nor did she say a single word when he left her standing there.
He never wanted to lay eyes upon her again.
Three days later
She should have known Dougal would despise her after what she’d done. And though the night she’d spent in his arms had been her choice, he wouldn’t believe it after Lord Eiloch’s words. Worst of all was the bleak emptiness stretching before her. She’d never expected to feel so alone, as if she was walking away from hope.
Celeste saw no choice but to return with Lord Eiloch. He would only fight against Dougal’s family if she dared refuse.
No longer did she care about her widow’s portion of Edmon’s estates. She was weary of the scheming and living her life in fear.
“I will return with you of my own will,” she told Lionel. “Leave the MacKinlochs in peace, and I’ll surrender my husband’s lands to you. All I ask is that you allow me to take my sister away with horses and a few of our belongings.”
“What of any child you might bear?” he asked, his voice threaded with wariness. “That was your intent when you left, was it not?”
She met his gaze evenly. “If I were to have a child, it would not be your brother’s,” she admitted. “There is nothing to stop you from claiming Eiloch as yours. I will swear to that.”
His posture relaxed visibly, and she was startled when she sensed an apology in his tone. “It was never my intent to force you out of your home.”
“I am not wanted there,” she said. “Rowena would make our lives a misery.”
He looked away for a moment, as if he’d known it. “She is a difficult woman to understand. She holds great ambitions, and she would lay down her life for one of our children.”
