He ignored the heavy sarcasm. “The fact that you are not a nun doesn’t make any difference. You’re the king’s sister-in-law, and it’s my duty to bring you back to Dunstaffnage—that’s all.”
“So it didn’t mean anything to you? The fact that you are here doesn’t mean anything?”
“I’m a warrior, Janet; I go where and do what I’m told. I’m here for one reason and one reason only: to do my job. Don’t read anything more into it.”
She sucked in her breath, her eyes widening. He’d never struck a woman in his life, but somehow it felt as if he’d just done so. The wave of remorse hit him hard. He didn’t want to hurt her, damn it.
He didn’t even want to have this conversation.
He shouldn’t need to explain it to her. It was obvious. This wasn’t how it was done. They weren’t free to follow their feelings. They weren’t free to marry. And she sure as hell wasn’t free to do anything else. She should know that.
But if he expected her to run away, he was the one who should have known better. She was Janet of Mar. The sister-in-law of a king, and daughter of an earl. She wasn’t sweet and docile but bold and confident. She didn’t cower or run from danger, she met it head on with a knife in her hand.
How could she have possibly thought he would think her stupid? The accusation had taken him aback. Christ, if anything, the lass was too intelligent—and too headstrong and stubborn, for that matter. Bold, confident, opinionated—none of the things a woman should be. Which sure as hell didn’t explain why he liked her so much.
He was trying to protect her from the horrible things he’d seen, but she’d taken his concern as criticism, as a lack of intelligence, aspatronizing. He cringed inwardly, realizing from her perspective that it probably was. But he hadn’t meant it that way, damn it. What did she expect, that he would sit back and let her be captured by the English? Tortured? Killed? It was almost as if she wanted him to defer to her judgment. That was crazy, wasn’t it?
Stewart was going to have a hell of a time stopping her.
What if he couldn’t?
The lass was too prone to getting into trouble, as her next step—toward him—proved. “I don’t believe you.”
His fists clenched. He wanted to pull her back into his arms so much, the physical restraint hurt.
Damn her. Couldn’t she see that this was impossible?
He swore, taking a step back (not in retreat, damn it!), and raked his fingers through his hair. He wasn’t good at this. He didn’t like conflict. He just tried to keep his head down and do his job. But she wouldn’t let him. “What the hell do you want from me, Janet?”
She blinked in surprise, staring at him. “I…”
She didn’t know. She was acting on impulse and feeling, not on thought. He should relish the moment of putting lead on that silvery tongue of hers, but instead he felt sad. Unbearably sad. It was impossible, and when she thought about it, she would see it, too.
“I thought so,” he said softly, before turning and walking away.
He hoped for the last time.
Thirteen
It wasn’t often that Janet’s tongue tied, but Ewen’s question had forced her to ask herself a question she hadn’t wanted to think about: what did she want from him?
The truth was, she didn’t know.
Marriage wasn’t an option. Assuming Robert could be persuaded to marry her to an ordinary warrior—even one whom he seemed to value—that certainly wasn’t what she wanted.
Was it?
Instead of sleeping as she should, she stared at the dark stone wall of the cave for most of the day, pondering that question. Janet had thought she had her life all planned out. She had thought she was meant to be alone. After the deaths of two fiancés, the loss of her family, and with what had happened with Cailin and her sister Mary, it seemed prudent to avoid entanglements. Frankly, she’d never wanted to marry and was content in the belief that God must agree with her. She would become a nun and continue on as she’d been doing: helping the king for as long as he needed her.
It was certainly preferable to being treated like a serf or a child. Not taken seriously. Coddled and “protected” until she couldn’t breathe. Robert would do his best to protect her, but there was always a risk.
But Ewen confused her and made her wonder whether there was something more than the future she had planned. A nun shouldn’t think about—dream about—a man and his kiss for months. And a nun certainly shouldn’t find her heart pounding in breathless anticipation for more.
Maybe that was it. Maybe “more” was what she wanted from him. Marriage might not hold any interest for her, but it was clear—at least with him—that what went along with it did.
She wanted him the way a woman wants a man, and no matter what he tried to tell her, he wanted her, too. What was holding him back?
She didn’t know, but she intended to find out.
