CHAPTERTEN
Connell
Connell’s words lingered in the air as he held Elsy’s gaze, saw her eyes wide with alarm. She blinked once, then twice, her mouth slowly closing. He watched her slump forward, her elbows on the desk as her hands clutched her cheeks. His eyes slid over the green gown, a smirk tugging at his lips. He had been correct. The color did indeed bring out the hue in her gaze. Her fiery red hair was still tied in a plait going down the length of one shoulder. It was quite messy from sleep and the struggle from the day before. Stray strands stuck to her forehead, her cheeks, but at least she had been able to wash. No longer did she have dirt marring her chin and fingers.
He stepped toward her, his boots clacking against the stone. Elsy flinched, her body straightening from the desk, but she did not stand. Her hands gripped her skirts as she watched him close the distance between them, her eyes filling with unvoiced questions.
“I don’t understand,” she breathed, a lone tear slipping down her cheek.
Connell stopped a foot from her, looming over her, staring down at her. His eye narrowed as he steeled his heart. His hand dug into the pocket of his cloak, and he brandished McCormick’s ring, holding it out for her to take. Elsy’s gaze slipped to the ring; hands remained in her lap. He watched the way her head tilted, the way her jaw clenched, as if she was holding back more tears as she stared at the disgusting little trinket that once sat on her finger.
“Do ye understand now?” Connell asked bitterly as he moved the ring closer to her.
Elsy turned away, her eyes closing for a brief moment.Thinking of an excuse,he thought as he watched her, his smile growing wider and more bitter as the silence continued between them. He wondered with cruel amusement what she had up her sleeve, what story she would concoct to protect her honor and dignity.
His heart lurched as Elsy turned her green eyes up to him glimmering with unshed tears. “Ye have been alive all this time?” she asked, the quivering in her voice making his insides twist with guilt.
Don’t,he told himself.Don’t allow her inside yer heart. She was McCormick’s—is his widow.
Connell watched as Elsy’s sorrow swiftly turn to rage, her hands clasping the chair’s arms and her brows tenting into a furious scowl. Slowly, she rose, like an adder about to strike.
“Why didn’t ye return home, Connell?” she whispered harshly.
Her question took him by surprise.Of all the things to ask, that is her first?he thought as he watched her step toward him. Connell held his ground, yet he was unable to hold his cruelty any longer as she took another step toward him. He could feel the warmth of her body nearly touching his own. She was so close. He fought with his body, refusing to give in to his desire.She is nae longer mine,he told himself, repeating the words over and over again. His gaze flicked to the ring in his hand, a reminder of what stood between them.
“I see that ye married,” he said while nodding toward the ring.
Elsy’s frown deepened, and she snatched the ring from his fingers, placing it on the desk next to his handkerchief. “Aye, I married and yer not dead.” She sighed; her face tilted away from him. “Why all this, Connell?”
Her voice was gruff, on the verge of tears and he watched her sniff, wipe the tears from her eyes. He looked away, knowing if he watched her any longer, he would grab her and pull her into his arms.
“Why are ye here, Connell? Why did ye capture me?” Elsy turned away from him, striding quickly from the desk toward the shelves filled with books. “Why did ye kill my men?” she shouted while spinning around, her hands fisting. “After all these years, thinking ye dead, mourning ye--”
“Mourning me?” Connell laughed bitterly. “Ye must think me a fool, Elsy. How long did ye mourn me for before jumping into bed with McCormick?”
Elsy’s eyes widened, her mouth gaping open, yet she said nothing. Her silence was answer enough.
“To think I once believed ye loved me,” Connell said with a shake of his head.
“I did.” Elsy’s bottom lip trembled as more tears streamed down her face. “I lost everything, Connell.”
“As did I.”
“Ye had a family to return to.” Elsy smiled sadly as she took one step toward Connell, quickly stopping herself from proceeding any further. “Yer father, yer clan. Ye had more than me.”
“Ye had yer father.”
“Who died two days after ye left.”
Connell grimaced. He had kept himself far away from the MacArthur clan, hadn’t known what happened to Elsy’s father.
“The only reason yer father allowed me to keep the cottage was due to my healing skills. But I am nae man,” Elsy breathed, her hand pushing the stray strands away from her face. “And it was only a matter of time before yer father gave my home to another.”
“Do ye wish to make me pity ye?” Connell asked harshly as he pushed himself away from his desk, stalking toward Elsy.
“Nae.”
“Then why tell me all this?” Connell stopped in front of her, his hand pressed against the bookshelf as he loomed above her. His gaze roved over her, taking in her fear- and sorrow-filled eyes before dipping to the curve of her bosom and her slender waist. He smiled bitterly, his eye meeting hers once more. “Or is this yer plan of escape?” he whispered. “Entice the cruel brigand with stories of sorrow in order to have yerself released?”
