She cast him a surreptitious glance from under her lashes. He was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. His stony expression matched his silence.
A whisper of trepidation skittered across her naked skin with a prickle.
He should be saying something, shouldn’t he? Holding her in his arms and telling her how wonderful it had been. How much he loved her.
So why wasn’t he?
Magnus tried to tell himself it didn’t matter, but it did. She’d been innocent. A virgin.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Helen leaned up on her elbow to look at him, a small frown gathered between her brows. “I tried to a couple of times. But you made it clear that you didn’t want to speak about Wi—” She stopped. “About my marriage.”
He knew she was right, but it didn’t stop him from saying bitterly, “You sure as hell didn’t try very hard.”
She flinched. “Perhaps not. But what was I supposed to do, blurt out at dinner, ‘And by the way I’m a virgin’?” She studied his face. “I didn’t realize it was so important to you.”
“Not important?” He made a harsh scoffing sound. Could she be that naive? Apparently, yes, if the guileless look in her eyes was any indication. “You didn’t think I might care that you and Gordon hadn’t consummated your vows?”
Her cheeks flushed hot. “I thought I was what was important to you, not the state of my maidenhead. I’ve not asked you about the women you’ve taken to your bed.”
If he were thinking rationally, he would realize she was right. But he wasn’t. In the back of his mind, Magnus knew he was being unfair, but he couldn’t stop himself. “It’s not the same.”
She quirked her brow. “It isn’t? If anything, I would have thought this would have pleased you.”
His mouth hardened. Part of him—the primitive male in him—waspleased. All that passion had been for him, her innocent responses a natural and instinctive reflection of her feelings for him. But it was also a harsh reminder of all that he’d taken from his friend. His life, and now his wife.
Perhaps sensing his guilt, she tried to explain. “When William came to my room that night, he’d guessed the truth of my feelings for you. He gave me a choice to go to his bed without thinking of another man or to seek an annulment—or if one could not be obtained, a divorce.”
Ah hell. Magnus felt a sharp stab in his gut. In trying to ease his guilt, she was only making it worse. Knowing that his friend had been prepared to give up his wife for him…God.
Magnus had been so angry that day. Had the anger made him sloppy? Had he been at fault for what happened? Buried in the darkest corner of his consciousness—something he’d never voiced even to himself—was the deep-seeded fear that MacLeod’s warning had been prophetic, and that somehow he could have done something to prevent it.
“I knew it would anger my family, I knew it would probably make no difference to you, but I also knew it was not fair to William—I would never have been able to love him as he deserved. So I decided to seek the annulment. But before I could give him my answer, he left. And after…” Her voice dropped off sadly. “And after, it didn’t seem to matter. Perhaps it was wrong of me to pretend, but what point was there in making a scandal?”
None. But she still should have told him.
“Would it have made any difference to you, Magnus? Would you have seen your feelings for me as any less of a betrayal whether my marriage was consummated or not?”
He clamped his jaw down angrily, knowing she was right. It wasn’t her marriage to Gordon that haunted him, but what he’d done to end it.
A twinge of guilt crept up her cheeks. “And I must admit I liked the freedom afforded being a widow. You know my brothers.”
He gritted his teeth. Unfortunately, he did.
He stared at her, trying to control the cacophony of divergent emotions firing inside him. Perhaps he understood her reasoning but it didn’t stop his anger, the feeling that she’d kept something from him. Her face merged with that of another.
“Watch over her…”
He couldn’t breathe. He needed to get out of here. Before he said something he regretted. Before he lashed out at her in anger for something she didn’t understand. Of course she didn’t understand, how could she? He couldn’t tell her the truth. Seeing the horror and disgust in her eyes, he couldn’t bear it.
He thought he could do this. But maybe he’d been a fool to try. He could never put the past behind him. Not with what he’d done.
Yet he loved her so much.
God, he couldn’t think straight!
The grate of the gate in the bailey below felt like a reprieve.
