This didn’t make sense. After what they’d shared? In his arms, she’d felt loved and cherished. He’d made love to her with such tender consideration. Was it all an act?
She’d thought…
A soft cry strangled in her throat.Oh God, she was a fool. A blind, lovesick fool.She’d thought he cared about her.
She’d been wrong. About everything. She’d put her trust in the wrong man. To think she’d worried that he was too much of a warmonger, without the necessary political acumen to negotiate with the king’s men. He was wily enough all right—just not the way she’d intended.
He’d failed her.
No, that wasn’t true. She’d failed herself. For she had no one to blame for this disaster but herself.
Meg was ruined, with no hope of finding a husband to help defend Dunakin. She’d failed miserably in the task she’d been given, and she would never forgive herself. She’d let her father down when he had trusted her where other men would not. What would happen to her brother? To her clan? How could she have been so selfish?
You are a smart lass, my Meggie. I don’t know what I would do without you.Her father’s voice echoed in her ears. Her heart wrenched to think of his disappointment. Smart, perhaps. But not smart enough.
She’d been duped. She’d known she was thinking with her heart and not her head, but she hadn’t been able to stop. The signs were there, she’d just chosen to ignore them. So badly had she wanted him to be the right man. Meg had been deceived by a handsome face just like thousands of women before her.
And now she would suffer the pain of disappointment. Of letting down those she loved.
She’d risked everything for love. And lost.
It wasn’t supposed to hurt this much, was it? The tight burning in her chest that constricted around her heart. She’d been disappointed before. It should be easier to weather the second time around. She’d been here before.
But she hadn’t. Nothing could have prepared her for the anguish of Alex’s betrayal. For the burning pain that seemed to consume her.
Breathe.
She wanted nothing more than to crumple into a puddle on the floor. To put her head in her hands and give way to the maelstrom of tears wailing inside. But somehow she found the strength to keep standing. It was a strength born of disappointment. She knew what she had to do.
Her back felt unnaturally stiff as she moved back from the dining room, her hands clenched in the cool silk of her skirts. She felt brittle, as if she could shatter into a thousand pieces with the slightest touch. She thought about retiring to her chamber or retracing her way back to Alex’s room to wait, but she knew she had to do this now or she might not be able to do it at all. She entered a small antechamber not far from the dining room. They would have a measure of privacy, but the public nature of the room would keep her from falling apart. She’d already made a fool of herself.
She stood near the large stone fireplace, too anxious to sit, where she could see the steady stream of courtiers make their way from the dining room. She didn’t have to wait long.
“My laird,” she called to him as he passed by the open door.
At the sound of her voice, his head turned. Their eyes met, and the sharp pain that had just begun to dull knifed through her again, cutting off her breath. How could such beauty hide such treachery? The face that had first attracted her had grown more impossibly handsome as she’d grown to love him. Now with the mask lifted, she should see ugliness. But all she could see was the man who’d made love to her and looked at her as if she were the most beautiful, important person in the world.
Her pain was so palpable, she wondered if he could feel it.
“Meg,” he said, taking a few steps into the room. “What are you doing here?”
She couldn’t do this. Despair rose inside her, threatening to erupt.
No.She shook off the hurt. He would never know how hard his betrayal had hit. She’d never told him of Ewen.
Lifting her chin, she looked him straight in the eye. “I wished to speak with you.” She waited for him to come closer. “Your noble sacrifice will not be necessary,” she said with a hard edge to her voice that was surely not her own.
He’d caught the sarcasm. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Don’t you?” She arched a brow. “You see, I’ve reconsidered. I’m afraid I responded to your proposal too quickly last night. The answer is no. No, I will not marry you,” she repeated more firmly.
If she’d surprised him, he did not show it. But that was Alex, an impenetrable wall of granite. A warrior. A man who needed no one, least of all her.
His eyes bit into her with a hard blue intensity. “May I ask why? You’ll perhaps understand my confusion after last night.”
Her cheeks heated. “I’ve decided we would not suit after all.”
He stood looking at her, as if waiting for her to say more. Finally he asked, “You will not reconsider?”
