It stopped him cold. In focusing on the plan to return his land to his clan, he'd failed to consider what it would do to Lizzie. Just when her feelings had become important to him, he didn't know—but they had.
His deception would hurt her.
Eventually, he would have to tell her his true identity, but he knew if she ever discovered why he'd targeted her, it would hurt her far worse. She would never forgive him.
She stopped and turned to face him, a wistful smile upon her mouth, and he felt like an ass for invoking the painful memories. “It's not for lack of trying. I'm surprised you have not heard of my marriage woes. Or, I probably should say, engagement woes.”
He shrugged, despite the fact that he knew of them very well. It was the reason he was here. “Perhaps a word or two.”
She sighed, taking a deep breath. “My cousin has ar ranged three betrothals for me, but none of them have ended in marriage.”
“I'm sorry.” He reached out and put a hand on her arm and then didn't know who was more shocked by the gesture.
“I'm not. It was for the best.”
“There is no one you have wished to marry?”
She hesitated. “Perhaps once, but that was a long time ago.” The smile on her face was strained with the obviously painful memories.
He felt a primitive flare of anger, and a not insubstantial flash of what could only be described as jealousy. If Montgomery hadn't already paid for his sins, Patrick would have enjoyed making him do so all over again. “In any event,” she continued, “it will soon be irrelevant.”
His mind snapped back to his plan. Feigning ignorance, he asked, “What do you mean?”
“When we were attacked, I was on my way to Dunoon to discuss this very subject with my cousin.”
“He has arranged another marriage?”
She shrugged. “Nothing has been formalized yet, but my brother informed me that one is in the works.”
Good. She'd not completely resolved herself to marrying Glenorchy's son. If he'd learned one thing about Elizabeth Campbell in their short acquaintance, it was that she took her duty very seriously. It would be much more difficult for him to persuade her to run away with him if she'd accepted the match proposed by her cousin. “Do you know the man?”
She nodded.
“And he is acceptable to you?”
She fumbled with the lace at her wrist. “I do not know him that well,” she hedged. “But my cousin would never force me to marry a man I could not abide.”
He took a step closer. The faint floral scent in her hair was stronger under the heat of the sun. It filled his nose and clouded his head. “Abide? Is that enough? What of love?”
She wouldn't look at him, and he could sense her nervousness, feel her response as her body flared with awareness. “I'm sure I will come to love my husband.”
He laughed. “It's not as easy as that. Attraction and love cannot be forced.”
Two angry spots of color appeared upon her cheeks. “I might not be as experienced as you are in such matters, but you do not need to laugh at me.”
He sobered, realizing that he'd struck a tender spot. The incident that day at Inveraray had left a deep mark. “It was not my intention to do so.”
“Was it not? Not all of us are blessed with a face such as yours.”
He took her chin and forced her gaze to his. “I can assure you, my lady, that your countenance pleases me very well. But what stirs between us is not as trifling as fairness of face.”
“There is nothing between us,” she said, gazing into his eyes. “Nor can there be.”
Her crisp denial angered him, and not because of his plan. Right now he wasn't thinking about his damn plan. He wanted her to acknowledge what was between them. That she could easily dismiss him when it was taking everything in his power to fight the urge to ravish her senseless infuriated him. It also made him determined to prove her wrong.
She tried to turn away, but he caught her up against his chest. She was so tiny and soft, and with all those womanly curves pressed tightly against him, it was all he could do not to groan.
“Are you so sure of that?” The huskiness in his voice did not need to be feigned. He slid the back of his finger down the curve of her cheek. Her eyes widened, but she didn't move. “If there is nothing between us, then why is your heart fluttering like the wings of a butterfly?” His thumb found the velvety pillow of her bottom lip. “Why is your breath quickening?” He cupped her chin and lowered his head. “And why do your lips part for me?”
