He was a fool. An arseanda fool.
She drew up all the hurt he’d caused her into a ball of disdain. He didn’t deserve another moment of her time. He’d made his choice, and she’d made hers. “Next time I shall be more circumspect.”
She turned, dismissing him, and started to walk away.
But he stopped her, latching her arm again. “You aren’t going to deny it?”
If she weren’t so angry, she would have laughed at his boyishly incredulous tone. Her heart pounded, but she refused to look down at the hand wrapped around her arm. Refused to let him know how much it affected her. How she could feel the imprint of his fingers burning into her skin. How the hairs on her arms stood on end. How with every fiber of her being she wanted to curl against his powerful chest and let those arms wrap around her one more time. How her lips burned with the memory of his kiss.
“I love you, Muriel.”She heard the voice in her head again, but shut it down.
“I do not believe I have to explain myself to you. You are not my chief, my father, or…”My husband. Her chest squeezed. She drew a deep, ragged breath. “I do not answer to you.”
She should have known better than to challenge the power of a powerful man. Sir William, Earl of Sutherland, didn’t like being denied. His eyes flared dangerously, not unlike his hot-tempered brother’s. “While you reside on my land, you will answer to me.” His voice was as unyielding as steel, with no room for disagreement.
“Is that what you are going to do, bend me to your will? Would it make you feel better to have me under your thumb where you can control me? I would not give you what you want, so now you will bully me and order me about?”
“Jesus.” He dropped her arm as if she’d scalded him. “Of course not.”
For a moment she saw a glimpse of self-loathing before the cold, imperious mask dropped back into place.
They stared at one another in the fading daylight. The powerful man who wasn’t used to being denied and the insignificant woman who’d dared to deny him.
“I do not want you spending so much time with my sister,” he said after a moment. “It is…” He stopped. “It might give her the wrong ideas.”
How easy it was for him to hurt her. He didn’t even have to try. A few carelessly uttered words and she was skewered. How could he claim to love her, if he didn’t respect her?
The strength left her. She sagged, the fight gone out of her. Her voice barely rose above a whisper. “Just because you think I’m a whore doesn’t make it true.”
He swore, his icy facade cracking like the surface of a pond in the spring. “God’s blood, Muriel, I don’t think you are a whore.”
“No, you just wanted me to be your leman. A home, jewels, a lifetime of security, isn’t that how you put it? Everything I could wish for.”Except for the one thing that mattered. She looked up at him, this time unable to blink back the tears that slid down her cheeks. “You know the irony, Will? You didn’t need to make me your whore, I would have given you everything you wanted for free.”
She’d loved him so much. He’d learned the worst, and miraculously, had returned that love. She’d never thought it was possible. She would have given him anything. But then he’d ruined it.
He stiffened. “I wouldn’t dishonor you—”
She laughed then. The reasoning of men was such an anathema to her. Taking what she offered of her own free will was dishonorable, but setting her up in the position of his leman was not? Could he not see how badly his offer had hurt her? He’d put a name on what they had together and made it ugly.
“Damn it, Muriel. I’m an earl. I have a duty.” A tortured look crossed his face, a glimpse of the emotion that he kept so well hidden. So much so that she almost forgot it was there. “What else could I do?”
I can’t marry you. I need a son.
The unspoken words passed between them. It was wrong of her to want something that was impossible. She knew it. But she couldn’t stop the longing.
“Nothing,” she said. “As you said, you are an earl and I’m…” Her voice dropped off.I’m flawed. Damaged.
She couldn’t look at him again. The reality of what could never be hurt too much.
This time when she turned to leave, he did not stop her.
I can’t do this, she thought.I can’t stay here and watch him marry someone else. It will kill me.
Muriel returned to the cottage that had become her home. The home that had been a place of refuge from the depths of hell. The place where she’d healed.
But this healing place was a refuge no longer. She had to leave before it became a prison.
Eight
