His mouth drew down in anger. “Now I wish to hell I’d kept my mouth shut.”
She flinched, her cheeks stinging as if he’d slapped her. “So not only am I suspected, but found guilty and condemned as well?”
He dragged his fingers through his hair. “Damn it, Maggie, look at the facts. What am I supposed to think?”
“I guess it’s too much to think that I might be telling the truth.”
His silence was answer enough.
“I won’t do this, Eoin. Not again. I made a mistake six years ago, but I wasn’t the only one to blame. You didn’t share enough with me for me to make the right decision. Had I known what you were involved in and had any sense of the danger, I never would have admitted to Brigid that you were there. For our marriage to work, there can’t be secrets between us. I won’t be half a wife. I love you, but I’m not going to live my life under suspicion. I need you to trust me. Right here, right now. Even when all the ‘facts’ tell you otherwise.”
“Or what?” he said furiously. “Are you still issuing ultimatums? Is it blind faith or nothing? That’s not the way it works, Margaret. You’re my wife, not my priest.”
A knock on the door startled them both. Eoin answered it, took the missive from the man who’d brought it—one of his father’s guardsmen—and read it quickly before turning back to her. She knew what he was going to say before he spoke. “I have to go,” he said grimly. “We’ll have to finish this discussion later.”
Later. It was always later with him. He never put her first.I have to go. Just be patient, Margaret.Stay here, Margaret. Don’t ask questions, Margaret. Be a good girl, and I’ll make it up to you in bed.
Well, she couldn’t do that anymore. “Of course,” she said tonelessly. “No doubt it’s important.”
He frowned, perhaps hearing something in her voice. “I won’t be long.”
“And if I asked where you were going?”
His mouth fell in a hard line. The answer was obvious. He wouldn’t tell her.
“Don’t worry,” she said, not letting on that he was tearing her heart to shreds—again. “I won’t ask.”
She turned away, feeling an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. She loved him, but it wasn’t enough. Hurt and disappointment stabbed; there was nothing more she could do. Maybe in another six years, he would realize she was telling the truth, but she wasn’t going to wait around hoping that day would come.
Once again, passion had deluded her into believing things had changed. But it was no different than it had been before. He would share his bed with her, but nothing else.
She’d done everything she could to try to regain his trust, but it would never be good enough.Shewould never be good enough. She was a wicked MacDowell. The enemy and an outsider.
She was done trying to prove herself to anyone. To hell with him. To hell with all of them.
28
CAMPBELL WAS WAITINGfor him at Dunstaffnage. His friend had arrived home not long after dropping Eoin at Gylen to find one of the nearby villagers requesting to speak with him immediately. As soon as he’d heard what the old woman had to say, he’d sent for him.
The message had been short and to the point: one of MacDougall’s men is in the village.
It seemed the old woman had a granddaughter who had been involved with one of the MacDougall warriors before he was forced into exile. He sometimes snuck back to see her when he was in the area. Last time he’d left her with a babe and a black eye, which had earned the enmity of the old woman, who was only too happy to take her revenge by reporting his presence to the king’s keeper.
Eoin, Campbell, and a handful of Campbell’s men had the small cottage surrounded by late morning when the MacDougall warrior finally emerged to take a piss. Caught with his pants down—literally—and without a weapon, he didn’t put up much of a fight. Hours later, however, he had proved less than forthcoming in response to their questioning.
They’d left him in the pit prison to contemplate his options while they ate. But even though Eoin hadn’t had a meal in almost twenty-four hours, he was too restless to force down more than a few bites. He couldn’t escape the feeling of trepidation that had been dogging him since leaving Gylen.
At first he attributed it to his anger toward his wife, but the longer he was gone and the more he thought about it, the more the unease grew.
“We need Viper,” Eoin said, a short while later as they waited in the guard’s room for the man to be brought back up. Lachlan MacRuairi was an expert at extraction—both of people and of information.
Campbell eyed him carefully. “Anxious for confirmation? I thought you were convinced your wife let something slip to her brother.”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“But?”
Eoin raked his fingers through his hair harshly. “I don’t know. Something about it doesn’t feel right.”
