“There isn't one, but I thought—since you seem to be doing such a good job of figuring everything out—that you might have something in mind.”
His evasiveness left her even more convinced that he was hiding something. “Why would you want to conceal your skill?”
His mouth curved into a crooked smile. “I can hardly be accused of that.”
She ignored his attempt to deflect the question. “That's just it. What I don't understand is why, after going to all the trouble to lose, you changed your mind.”
He met her gaze, his green eyes hot with intensity. “Maybe I decided that the prize was worth the price.”
Me.A shiver ran down her spine. The look in his eyes sent heat pouring through her veins. It was a look of possession. Of pure masculine desire. It claimed her so thoroughly that it took her a moment to find her voice. “What price? What would you possibly lose by winning?”
He didn't answer right away, turning his gaze back toward the path that wove through the forest, choosing his words with care. “I deemed it prudent under the circumstances.”
Lizzie wrinkled her nose. “I don't understand.”
His jaw flexed tight. He spoke through clenched teeth, extracting the words with difficulty. “Robert Campbell is a powerful man.”
Lizzie tilted her head, studying the hard lines of his proud, handsome face. “And you thought besting him would bring retribution?” She shook her head. “You don't know Robert.”
His gaze could have cut stone. “Not, apparently, as well as you do.”
Her cheeks heated, though she'd done nothing to be ashamed of. But clearly he didn't like how readily she'd jumped to Robert's defense. “All I meant is that Robert is not the kind of man to begrudge another for winning. Surely you can see that now?”
He shrugged, his words pried reluctantly. “So it seems.”
His explanation made sense but didn't ring completely true—not from what she knew of him. Patrick Murray wasn't the kind of man to back down from a challenge. “And that's the only reason?”
His gaze locked on hers. “I don't think I need to point out the difference in our positions.”
The accusation in his gaze made her cringe.
She knew she should say something. She could see it in his eyes: He thought she was going to choose Robert.
Her heart tugged and then lodged in her throat. She wanted to say something.
But what could she say when he might very well be right?
It was past noon by the time they arrived back at the keep. Lizzie hurried inside to see to the midday meal for the guests, carefully avoiding Patrick's gaze.
He watched her go, anger and frustration simmering inside him like molten lava ready to explode. He didn't know whom to blame: Lizzie for her indecisiveness or himself for giving a damn.
He might have proved himself the better man on the battlefield, but it wasn't enough to change her mind. All he'd achieved was salving his own pride and making himself a target of unwanted attention. His skill had made the Campbells curious. And curiosity for a man at the horn could be deadly.
Danger lurked in every direction: from the surly guardsman Finlay to Auchinbreck to Campbell and now to Lizzie herself. It was only a matter of time before the truth was discovered.
He had to leave. Soon. He wouldn't unduly risk the lives of his men, not if it could be avoided. It was probably too early for Gregor to have returned from the Lomond Hills, but Patrick would make his weekly Saturday pilgrimage tonight nonetheless.
But first, he needed to clear his head. He was pulled as taut as a damn bowstring, besieged by conflicting emotions. His plan. Lizzie. Everything was unraveling around him, and he didn't know what the hell to do about it.
After seeing to his horse, he decided that a cool plunge in the loch would help cure what ailed him—in more ways than one. He was leaving the stables on his way to the barracks to fetch soap and a fresh shirt when the last man he wanted to see stepped in front of him.
“I was looking for you,” Robert Campbell said.
“Apparently you found me.” The flash of angry sarcasm was reflexive, if unwarranted. He sighed and then said more evenly, “What do you want?”
Campbell reached in the small pocket of his doublet and pulled out a gold coin. “I didn't get a chance to give this to you earlier.”
Patrick shook his head. “Keep it.”
