Loyalty? It was an odd word choice for a proposed betrothal, but suddenly why this was so important to him made sense. “You don’t want to remind anyone of what you did by switching sides to fight with the English.”
His lips pressed together until the muscle in his jaw began to tic. She wasn’t sure whether his anger was at being reminded of his dishonorable past or the fact that she’d guessed his reasons. Maybe it was both.
Though his stony expression looked impenetrable, she had to try. There wasn’t time to wait for him to see the truth. By then he could be engaged, and breaking a betrothalwasa serious matter. In a strange way Annie’s death gave her the courage to be bold. To reach for what she wanted. God knew, life could be preciously short.
“You’ve made up for what you did back then tenfold since you’ve returned. No one questions your loyalty. You are one of the king’s most important and respected knights.”
His eyes seemed to shine as dark as onyx in the fading light. “Because I’ve kept my word—and I intend to keep it that way. But people remember.Iremember, damn it.”
The fierceness of his response took her aback. She could practically feel it radiating from him and hear the lingering shame in his voice. This was what drove him. This was what had made him so intent on becoming the perfect knight who could do no wrong and who everyone admired.
It made an odd kind of sense. “You don’t need to be perfect; no one is going to criticize you.”
She didn’t think it possible, but his mouth hardened even more. “That’s right. They aren’t. Because I will not give them a reason to.”
Izzie felt her frustration—and not an insignificant amount of anger—rise inside her. He was being ridiculous! Not to mention stubborn. If he’d ever needed to prove himself to anyone, he didn’t any longer. He was a hero already and on his way to becoming a legend. But men and their honor—Highlandersand their honor, she corrected—could be as intractable as mules and as dogmatic as inquisitors.
She stood to face him; her hands fisted into tight balls at her side. “So you will marry my cousin and you will both be miserable, but it won’t matter because you didn’t break your word to Jamie, is that it?”
Her voice made it clear how asinine she thought that was—which he just as clearly did not appreciate. God, she hated when he retracted into the stiff, arrogant, I-can-do-no-wrong knight.
His eyes narrowed to suspicious slits. “What makes you think we will be miserable?”
She wasn’t going to be the one to tell him about Elizabeth. “You would see it if you stopped worrying about what everyone else thinks and look at what is right in front of you.”
He took her by an arm and hauled her against him. The heat of his body was like a spark of wildfire to her senses setting them aflame.
“What the Devil is that supposed to mean?” he growled.
She lifted her chin, refusing to be intimidated or put off by his anger. “It means that I think you are too stubborn and convinced that you aren’t capable of caring about someone to see that you do.”
“Who?” He dragged her closer with a sneer. “You?”
But he wasn’t as unaffected as he wanted her to think. His nostrils flared when the contact made her nipples harden against him. She could practically feel the attraction firing in the air between them. She gave him a look that dared him to deny this. “Aye, me.”
Choose me.
He made another growl of frustration and pulled her in even closer. He wanted to kiss her. She could see it. Feel it. Every muscle in his body seemed to be straining with the effort of holding himself back.
Her heart squeezed. For a moment she thought he would break. That he would give in to this… in to them.
But he didn’t. Instead, he set her purposefully away from him. “You are wrong. I have no intention of falling in love with you—or anyone else for that matter.”
Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she was just seeing what she wanted to see.
But when he walked away, Izzie realized that whether she was right or wrong no longer mattered. He was going to choose her cousin, and the door that had opened in her heart would slam closed. Although if the heavy darkness that weighed upon her chest was any indication, it might already have.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Randolph could see just fine. He knew exactly what he was doing.“Both be miserable…”He scoffed. Whatever the hell Izzie thought she knew, she was wrong. His fists clenched as he stormed through the abbey gate in search of Douglas. He was perfectly content, damn it.
The fact that he’d been up most of the night pacing the very small floor space of his tent—nearly tripping over his page and squire a dozen times—and wanting to put his fist through a wall, didn’t mean anything. He was angry, that was all.Irritated.
Shewas the one who was being ridiculous. He was supposed to put aside his plans and break his word because she claimed to see something he couldn’t? After a handful of days, Isabel Stewart knew him better than he knew himself? And why was she so certain that he cared about her? Because they shared a few unusual interests? Because the passion between them was explosive and made him do things—nearly taking her innocence for one—that he’d never done before? Because every time he looked at her, he thought about how she’d looked coming apart in his arms, and he wanted to see it again and again? Because she made him laugh a few times and relax more than he had in… ever? Because they’d shared a few intimate conversations, and he found himself telling her things—personal things—that he’d never spoken of before?
That didn’t mean he “cared” about her—which he damned well knew was lass-talk for love. He liked her, of course—and wanted to swive her something fierce—but he was hardly the type to fall in love after a few days. The idea was laughable—ludicrous really. He was much too practical and clearheaded for romantic drivel like “love at first sight.” He didn’t have a romantic bone in his body. He knew the ladies at court thought him romantic because he espoused the gallantry and courtly gestures of a knight, but that was what was expected. It was all part of the dance. He didn’t really believe any of it.
Izzie would probably say it was a performance—another act. Even if it was, so what? The ladies liked it, and there was no harm. It was what was expected of him as one of Bruce’s greatest knights.
