Selfishly, he wanted that. More than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. For a man who was used to getting what he wanted, who was used to happiness falling into his lap, it was a bitter draught to swallow.
But he couldn’t.
There was something in his eyes as he looked at her that made Ellie do something she’d vowed not to do again. “Ask me to stay,” she whispered.
For a moment, he hesitated. Or at least she told herself he did. She wanted to believe her request caused him some kind of inner struggle, because outwardly his expression betrayed nothing.
But then he smiled, and the sympathy there, as if he could imagine her heartbreak but was blissfully immune to its agony, cured any thought of inner turmoil.
“I’m sorry, lass. I can’t do that.”
Ellie felt the white-hot lash of pain sear through her. Why did she do this to herself? Why did she open her heart up, lay herself bare, to have him cleave it with a smile? Was she a glutton for pain and humiliation? It was just that for a moment, he’d been looking at her so tenderly, she thought …
Fool. He didn’t love her. He felt sorry for her. She could see that now. Women threw themselves at his feet all the time. To her great shame, it seemed she was no different.
Twice she’d offered him her heart and twice he’d refused. It was enough.
She stepped away from him, snapping the connection.
It was strange. After the initial stab of pain, she felt nothing. Only an eagerness to be gone from here as soon as possible. “I should go.”
“Ellie,” he said softly, reaching for her arm. “I’m sorry.”
She stiffened and pulled away from him. “You have nothing to apologize for. I was being foolish. Of course you don’t want me to stay.” She laughed, but it was a harsh sound. “You already have someone waiting for you.”
He frowned, as if he had no idea what she was talking about.
“The woman,” she said.On your lap. Kissing you. “In the tent?”
She thought he winced, but then he said, “Oh, yes. Of course.”
Her chest throbbed. “Well then, I guess this is goodbye.” She ventured one more look up at him, wondering how long it would take the details of his face to fade from her memory. The arch of his brow. The hard line of his jaw. The white lines etched at the corners of his eyes. The devilish turn of his mouth. The high cheekbones and noble nose. That irresistibly handsome face.
She dropped her gaze. “The soldiers will be waiting for me on the other side of the ridge.”
“You are sure you know what you are doing? What if they suspect something?”
“They won’t. I can be very convincing.”
His gaze hardened. “I don’t like it. I’ll take you back to Ayr myself.”
“No,” she said vehemently. “I must stick with the plan or they will become suspicious. Do you think they’d believe I found my way back myself? It has to be this way. I know what I am doing.” She held his gaze. “Besides, I am not your responsibility.”
Their eyes held for a long heartbeat. For a moment she thought she saw something before his gaze quickly shuttered.
He stepped back, holding himself very stiffly. She could almost believe this was difficult for him. “Very well,” he said. “Goodbye, Lady Elyne.”
Her breath caught high in her chest. For one long heartbeat she just stood there, wanting to savor the moment because she knew it would be the last.
But it had to end. “Goodbye, Erik.”
She turned away and didn’t look back. A small but significant part of her life was over.
Chapter Twenty-four
St. John’s Eve (Midsummer’s Eve), June 23, 1307
Erik had done the right thing. She was better off without him. Or so he told himself over and over the first few days after she’d left.
