“He is going to the topmost turrets,” Minetta said. “That is where he always goes when he wants to think. At least he is thinking, though, and not blindly running into her arms as I thought he might. I am not comfortable having that woman under our roof, though. I wouldn’t put it past her to try to sneak into his room in the middle of the night.” Minetta saw Cora’s downcast expression and put her arms around her friend. “Cora, he will see sense. I have faith in him, and in you. Whatever else my brother is, he is not a fool.”
“Are we not all fools when it comes to love, Minetta?” Cora asked sadly.
Clyde was swallowing yet another tumbler of whiskey as he stood on the battlements, looking down. He reflected that turning to the whiskey bottle to soothe whatever ailed him had become a habit that he was slipping into far too easily, and he resolved to break it. He was never going to become one of those sad, blue-nosed dipsomaniacs like Laird McCallum, who was so far gone that he could only see the world through the bottom of a whiskey glass.
What to do? He sighed. Most men would say that he was in an enviable position, having the choice between two beautiful women; however, that was fine in a fantasy world, but he did not live in one of those. In real life, he would have to wound one of two real human beings, and he would feel like a heartless monster. He was Clyde Munro, Laird of Rosnablane, and despite his title, he was nothing more than a flawed man who had no idea why fate had put him in this awkward situation.
Presently, he heard footsteps behind him, and in the light of the torches, he saw Cora, her expression determined as she walked towards him. Damn, she was gorgeous, and he could not for the life of him understand why he was even thinking about Loraine. But if he stood one beside the other, he knew that he would be completely unable to make a choice, even now.
She drew up beside him and looked up into his eyes, and once more, he thought how small she was, hardly reaching his shoulder. More than anything else, he wanted to shelter her from harm. But was that love?
“Cora, what are you doing here?” he asked, although he knew the answer to the question.
“I wanted to talk to you,” she replied. “I saw you with Loraine, and I needed to know what she wanted with you.”
He nodded. “You have every right to ask,” he said slowly. “But before I answer you, I would like you not to judge me too harshly, since I am in an unenviable position. Loraine’s return has confused me beyond measure. I am betrothed to you, and I was very glad about that, Cora, because you are a fine woman—beautiful, intelligent, passionate—and I do not deserve you.
“At the same time, the woman I love has come back into my life saying that she still loves me and wants me to come back to her.” He thumped his fist against the stone wall in front of him. “I am stuck on the horns of a dilemma. I want both of you, but I must choose. However, I have given my word to you. I have never broken my word in my life, and I do not intend to do so now.”
Cora felt her heart sink, just as fury rose inside her. “So you are marrying me out of obligation?” she asked, an edge of anger in her voice. “Out of a misplaced sense of honor? Clyde, I would rather not be married at all than be a wife to someone who constantly regrets his choice. I have my pride, as you have yours. If you truly love Loraine, then marry her. I will release you from our betrothal, and you can go ahead as you planned. I have no wish to be the woman you felt obliged to wed.”
“No!” He pulled her into his arms. “I would never treat you like that. As I said, my word is my bond, and I give it to you again now. We will be wed, and I will have no regrets.”
“Are you sure?” she asked doubtfully. “How can you suddenly change your mind and fall out of love with Loraine? She used to mean everything to you, and perhaps she still does.” She cupped his face in her hands and looked deeply into his green eyes, seeing only confusion there. “Clyde, would you die for me? Kill for me? Or would you just use me to sire heirs, then go back to Loraine for your pleasure? I know she has given you pleasure before, whereas I have not. Would you like me to come to your bed? I would do so if I was sure you were going to wed me, but I will not be used. Tell me...do you truly want to marry me and leave Loraine?”
In that instant, Clyde hesitated as the enormity of the question hit him.
Loraine or Cora?
“I...” He began, then trailed off helplessly.
It was enough for Cora. She nodded curtly. “It is obvious that you have made up your mind, Clyde. I ask only a few more days to find myself a new home, then I will be out of your way, and you can announce the end of our betrothal. In the meantime, I will take my meals in my room so that you need not see me. I wish you and Loraine every happiness.” Then she turned and fled downstairs as fast as her feet would take her.
She hurried into the parlor, intending to grab the whiskey bottle and drown her sorrow by getting so drunk that she would feel nothing. Cora had never done such a thing in her life before and knew that she would suffer for it later, but she did not care; she could cope with the consequences in the morning. She had just picked up the bottle and turned to make her way back to her bedroom when she heard something that stopped her in her tracks.
Loraine, too, had been unable to sleep. She had tossed and turned in her bed for a while, thinking of the hard pressure of Clyde’s body against her own, the bright green of his eyes, and the shape of his full lower lip. She had forgotten how tall he was, and how broad his shoulders were, how unyielding the muscles of his arms. She would never find another man like him, and now that Andrew Sutherland had unveiled his ambitions to her, she had no intentions of ever letting him go.
Her only obstacle was the little witch Cora Henderson, who, she had to admit, had all the qualities that she herself possessed, and was presumably still a virgin—an enormous advantage for a woman. For a brief moment, Loraine thought of poisoning her rival, but no...she was not desperate enough or ruthless enough for that, although she could use an accomplice to do it for her. She tucked the thought away as a possibility in case all else failed, however.
Deciding that she was never going to get any sleep that night, Loraine climbed out of bed and made her way downstairs to curl up by the fire with a glass of wine. She was halfway down the stairs when she saw Cora rushing in from outside and entering the parlor. When she saw Clyde striding after her, she flew down the stairs and into his path. “Whatever is the matter, Clyde?” she cried.
“Get out of my way, Loraine!” he growled, trying to push her sideways.
However, instead of following his command, Loraine pulled his head down to hers and kissed him frantically, pressing his lips against his teeth and holding the back of his head so that he could not move away. Out of the corner of his eye, he somehow managed to see Cora standing at the door of the parlor, her eyes wide with shock. He pushed Loraine away and broke the kiss, but it was too late.
Now Cora knew. She realized in that split second that Clyde was not and never would be hers, and her heart finally shattered. She dropped the whiskey bottle; it crashed onto the floor, scattering shards of glass and pools of the potent spirit around it. Cora ran over them, uncaring that the splinters were embedding themselves in her feet. She ran to the stables and jumped onto her horse, glad of the fact that he had often allowed her to ride him bareback, and rode out of the castle.
The last rays of sunlight were all the light they had to guide them, but by the time Clyde had reached the stables, he was too late, and was almost run down by Cora’s horse as she flew past him and disappeared into the darkness with only the faint light of the dying day to guide her.
Clyde saddled his own stallion faster than he had ever done in his life and followed her, but he had not been quick enough to see the direction she had taken, and he inadvertently went the wrong way. He had ridden only a quarter of a mile before he was forced to stop and wonder how Cora could possibly find her way in the murky light. He was terrified for her. She was alone and defenseless; anything could happen to her. Humans could not see in the dark, but wolves could, and bandits could be lying in wait anywhere. Behind him, Loraine smiled with evil satisfaction. She had won, and Clyde was hers.
15
Alerted by the noise of people shouting and the frantic clattering of horses’ hooves in the courtyard, Minetta stumbled downstairs, yawning. She was just in time to see Clyde galloping hell for leather out of the castle while Loraine stood watching him, a satisfied smile on her lips. At the sound of footsteps, she turned around and saw Minetta, but the smug grin did not leave her face.
“Where is Clyde going?” she asked in a mixture of fear and suspicion. A terrible dread had crept over her.
“Chasing after Cora,” Loraine drawled. “She leaped on a horse and galloped out of here as if the hounds of hell were chasing her.”
