He stilled, but quickly discarded the idea. “They’ll look for us once they discover the boat is empty. I can’t risk it.”
“I’m not going.”
Anger spiked inside him. “If you think I’m going to leave you—”
She didn’t let him finish. “I’ll be perfectly safe. They are looking forme. I’ll tell them that you drowned in the storm. No one will look for you. You still have time, but you need to go now.”
He looked to the coast and knew she was right. He could make it. The Irish would wait until dawn, and if he was lucky, a little longer. He would have to make the crossing to Rathlin and then on to Arran in one night, but he could do it. Bruce would still arrive in time to launch his attack on the appointed day. He could salvage his mission.
But it went against every bone in his body to leave her behind. Even though she’d lied to him, she was …
What? What was she to him?
She must have sensed his hesitation. “Go. There is nothing to keep you.”
But there was, even if he couldn’t put a name on it. Indecision—not something he was familiar with—warred inside him. He might be able to save his mission, but in doing so, he would be putting an end to his relationship with Ellie.
What relationship? She was betrothed to de Monthermer, for Christ’s sake. Edward’s former son-in-law and one of his most important naval commanders.
She belonged to someone else. The knowledge ate like acid in his chest.
She was sitting so still, her expression as hard and brittle as glass. Something didn’t feel right. She was too composed. Too calm. She’d told him she loved him only a few minutes ago, yet here she was doing her best to get rid of him.
He took her arm, wanting to shake the icy look of inevitability from her face. “What do you want from me?”
She turned her gaze to his. “Nothing. Can’t you see that? There was never any other possibility. Go, so that I can get on with my life and forget this ever happened.”
He flinched as if he’d just taken a blow from a war hammer. Through the burning in his chest, he forced her to look at him, staring in her eyes and daring her to lie to him. “Tell me one thing. Do you want to marry him?”
She didn’t blink. “Why wouldn’t I? Sir Ralph is one of the most handsome, important knights in Christendom. Any woman would be honored to be his wife.”
Erik clenched his jaw against the sudden twist of pain. It should be relief. His mission had to come first, and now he could leave with a clear conscience. He’d asked. She’d refused. He’d done his duty; his honor was intact.
Then why did his chest feel as though it were on fire? Why was he so bloody angry? And why did he want to kill Sir Ralph de Monthermer?
It was what Erik’s ancestors would have done. But he wasn’t a Norse barbarian. He had no right to claim her.
Dawn was breaking. The galleys were drawing closer. Another five minutes and there would be enough light to make out their two forms. If he was going to go, he needed to do it now.
He glanced at Ellie right before he slipped into the water. Bundled in the plaids and furs, she looked so small and helpless. But she wasn’t; she never had been. She didn’t need him. Though he fought the urge to pull her into his arms and prove otherwise.
His jaw hardened with icy resolve. Nay, it was better this way. He had a mission to complete. Once he returned to Bruce and the attack was under way, he would have so much to do he would forget all about her. Time and circumstance, he reminded himself. Once the adventure and excitement died down, he’d stop feeling this way.
With one last look, he slid into the water and started to swim. Numb inside, he barely noticed the cold.
He looked back only once.
Halfway to shore, he paused just in time to see the first English galley reach the skiff. He stiffened, recognizing the arms of de Monthermer: the green eagle on the yellow sail. A moment later, he saw Ellie plucked from the small skiff and pulled into the arms of a tall, mail-clad knight bearing the same crest on his tabard.
Erik’s lungs felt as if they were burning with salt water.
Seeing her in the arms of another man brought out every primitive instinct in him—instincts he didn’t even know he had. But he told himself she was safe. He’d returned her to her family as he’d promised. His duty was done.
He slid back underwater and swam with everything he had, focused on one thing and one thing only.
The mission was all that mattered.
When Ralph enfolded her into his arms, Ellie’s carefully constructed composure crumbled. She didn’t care that there were four galleys of soldiers watching her. All the emotion she’d been holding inside shattered in a heart-wrenching flurry of tears and sobs.
