“Are ye hurt?” he asked, his gaze hardening when it settled on the bruise forming on her cheekbone.
“Nae. I’m no’ hurt,” she assured him in a softvoice. Then she coughed to sound stronger, less affected by him.
He had come for her. Just as she knew he would. She wanted to smile at him, but… “Did ye kill yer wife?”
He stood up straight and lowered his hand to help her rise.
But he didn’t answer her. He didn’t deny it.
It seemed, she thought exhaustedly, her running wasn’t over.
Chapter Five
Constantine was surethe lass could feel his agitated heart thumping against his ribs as they traveled back to the road leading to Tor Castle.
She had been easy to find thanks to the single hoof prints her abductor’s horse had left.
The scent of her now, sitting in front of him on his horse, went straight to his head and soothed him before he kicked the unwanted thoughts away. He had no place for a woman in his life. No desire for one.
He hadn’t answered her when she asked about him killing his wife. In a way, he had killed her by not being there with her, at her side to give her strength. He wasn’t ready to speak of Alison or Katie, especially not to another woman.
When he’d gone into the inn to look for her and found her gone, he’d returned outside and threatened to kill the remaining three men if they didn’t tell him who had taken her and where they went.
He’d discovered that it had been Reggie MacKintosh, the MacKintosh chief’s eldest son who had taken her. Constantine hadn’t cared if her captor were the chief himself. MacKintosh should not have laid a finger on his…his ward. He hadn’t cared when he’d kicked down the door of the small barn in the hamlet of Muirshearkich and killed MacKintosh where he stood.
The sight of her alive caused an odd flutter in his chest. He hadn’t kept his word to protect her. Still, he had raced to her. He had killed in a blind rage on account of her. It angered him that he would expend so much passion on her. He barely knew her. But she evoked a spark or light in him of some kind. Be it compassion, the gleam of strength and resiliency flashing in her gaze every now and then, or physical attraction.
When he’d found her, he bent to her. He shouldn’t have. Were there always thousands of tiny brown spots strewn across the bridge of her nose? Was her skin always so pale? Were there always dark crescents under her eyes, as if she hadn’t slept in…
He let out a little breath while they traveled and forced himself to breathe. He thought he’d forgotten how when he found her thrown in the threshing.
He wasn’t moved by much anymore, not by beauty, nor by one’s sorrows or sorry past. But he was moved by her.
“Thank ye fer coming fer me, Chief…I mean Lochiel,” she said now in her dulcet voice. “I knew ye would.”
He looked down at her uncovered head. She was a curious lass. She claimed to hate chiefs, but she clearly didn’t hate him. She didn’t trust him completely but enough to know he would come for her.
“How would ye know if I would come or not, lass? I dinna come to the aid of many.”
“Aye. That is what made me stand out to that man back there.”
“What are ye sayin’?” he asked, slowing his horse to a halt. “Look at me, lass.”
She obeyed and turned in his lap to face him. He refused to be moved by her now. Something in him that had once been soft, told him to stand firm and never forget the pain of losing his wife and daughter.
“That man noticed how ye guarded me. He thought there was something between us. That’s why he took me.”
He kept his breathing steady—though it was much more difficult than he’d imagined it would ever be. “Is that so,” he said. It wasn’t a question. He didn’t expect her to answer it.
But she did. “Aye. He said, ‘Though I wouldna have believed it if I hadna seen it with my own eyes. ’Tis rumored he hasna had a woman since he killed his wife.’” She finished and blinked up at him.
Constantine gave the reins a gentle flick and his horse began a slow trot.
“Fine, dinna answer.” She brooded a bit and turned to face the road.
“I didna kill her,” he offered after a moment. “She perished while giving life to our daughter.”
“Oh,” Miss Drummond lamented but didn’t return her gaze to his. “Fergive me fer bringing it up. I—”
