Every muscle in his body turned as rigid as steel, his rejection of her words bone deep.
Was fate playing some kind of hideous joke on him, forcing him to face the same choice as his father? Well, he sure as hell wasn’t going to make the same mistake. “I am not going to run away.”
She watched him, her eyes taking note of his clenched fists and flexed muscles. “Loving me isn’t going to make you your father, Ewen.”
She gazed up at him with such compassion and understanding that for a moment he wavered. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her it would be all right.
But it wouldn’t. His feelings for her weren’t going to cost him this. “Won’t it? Maybe you’re right. It wouldn’t make me my father. My father had Stewart to help him pick up the pieces; I will have no one.”
“You will have me.”
As if it could be that simple. “What kind of life would we live? Without the king and Stewart’s support, I have nothing to offer you. No money. No castle. Just two hundred people depending on me to provide for them. Should we join my cousin and kinsmen in Ireland with the other ‘rebels’?”
She lifted her chin stubbornly, her mouth pursed. “Mary will help. Christina as well.”
“You would ask that of them? You would put them at odds with Bruce.”
With that, he succeeded in quieting her.
“Running off isn’t romantic, Janet, it’s irresponsible and foolish. It won’t solve our problem; it will make it worse. Nay, there is no other way. We will take our chances with Bruce.”
He forced himself not to see the disappointment shimmering in her eyes, but it ate like acid in his chest.
“Then you have made your choice.”
“I have.”
“Even if it means we cannot be together? Even if it means I must marry another man?”
He took her by the arm, dragging her face to his. “Yes, damn it, yes!”
It was as if he’d blown out a candle; the light in her eyes simply died. He felt the quick stirrings of panic in his chest. Instinctively, he reached for her, but she jerked away.
Her eyes shot sea-green daggers at him, sharp enough to draw blood. “Do not touch me again. You have made your decision; now I have made mine. I will not marry you or Walter Stewart. I will not marry anyone. I will take the veil before anyone tries to force me down the aisle.”
His pulse leapt, panic no longer just stirring in his chest but jumping—nay, ricocheting—all over. “You don’t mean that.”
She didn’t say anything. She wouldn’t even look at him. Her gaze was pinned on the door behind him. “Contrary to your belief, Ewen, I am capable of knowing my own mind.”
He swore, knowing she was slipping away from him but not knowing how to stop her. He stood, swaying from the pain in his leg. But it was nothing to the firestorm of emotions burning in his chest. He hated feeling like this. Out of control. Angry. Panicked. Helpless. She was tearing him apart.
He lashed out blindly, like a cornered beast. “What the hell do you want from me, Janet? Do you realize what this,” he jerked his head toward the rumpled bed behind them, “has cost me? Everything I’ve been fighting for. Is that not enough, or must I cut a vein for you, too?”
She looked stricken; every bit of color slid from her face. Her voice trembled. “I didn’t realize there was a price on something that was freely given. I wanted to please you; I’m sorry if it was not enough. But you need not worry. It need not cost you anything. As I will not be marrying anyone, my innocence—or lack thereof—is not important. You offered marriage, and I refused. You did your duty; if there was any damage to your honor, it is assuaged. There is no reason to say anything to Robert at all. Your position in his army need only be in jeopardy if you choose to make it so.”
As quickly as the anger had risen, it was doused. He barely heard her words, giving him a way out; all he could see was the hurt his careless words had inflicted. He shouldn’t be blaming her. This wasn’t her fault. And he sure as hell hadn’t meant to make what had happened between them feel like some kind of transaction. “Damn it, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I never meant any of this to happen. I was just trying to do my job.”
“And I got in the way. You were just a simple soldier trying to do your duty, and I was—how did you put it?—a complication.” He frowned. That wasn’t what he meant…was it? She was so much more than that. “I’m sorry for making things difficult for you, Ewen. Had you told me the truth, it might not have happened the way it did. But as you took it upon yourself to make those decisions for us both, I’m afraid now you must live with them. You are a fighter; I’m sure you’ll find a way to win everything you desire. It would have been easier—simpler—if we’d never met. And if it’s any consolation, right now I wish we never had.”
Jesus!What had he done? “You don’t mean that.”
The look she gave him told him differently. His skin, which had been feeling unusually hot, suddenly felt covered in a layer of ice.
“And that is exactly why I do. You told me once what you wanted in a wife. I should have listened to you. Maybe this is much my fault. I wanted to make you something you were not. You are not Magnus, and I am not Helen. I hope one day you find a woman who will be content to let you cosset and protect her—think for her. But that is not me.”
She stood and started to walk toward the door.
He liked it better when she was angry with him. This cold, calm, indifferent stranger scared the hell out him.I’m losing her. What can I do?
