At last, he let her hair fall from his grasp and stepped back. She spun around to face him.
Where his eyes had been cold and steely before, they were now flashing with agitation. “God help us all if this is some kind of sorcery,” he said.
“What are you saying?” Lachlan asked. “That she is not Raonaid?”
Eyes narrowing, Angus continued to stare at her; then he nodded. “The resemblance is uncanny,” he said. “Everything is the same, and yet it is not, which leaves only one explanation.”
Catherine turned to Lachlan and somehow managed to remain on her feet, when it felt as if the floor were giving way beneath her. “I am Raonaid’s twin.”
Confused and bewildered, she could barely breathe.
“What?”Lachlan grimaced and shook his head, seeming unable to accept it.
But neither could she. “A twin?”
She looked down at the floor and realized in a rush of anguish that her dreams of a ghost, her awareness of some other spirit self, had stemmed from some intrinsic knowledge of this lost sibling—a soul who had shared the womb with her. It had always been beneath the surface of her perception.
“This changes everything,” Lachlan said.
Catherine knew exactly what he was thinking. How could she not? It was written all over his face. “Yes, it does,” she replied. “I am not Raonaid; therefore I will not be able to lift your precious curse.”
He frowned at her. “Preciouscurse? Are you mad? And why did you make that promise to me at Drumloch? You said you would lift it if I brought you here, yet you were not in a position to barter.”
“What did you expect me to do!” she argued. “I told you a dozen times that I did not know how to help you, but you were going to force yourself upon me! I did what I had to do, to ensure my safety!”
He winced at the words. A muscle flicked at his jaw. “I didn’t know who you were,” he ground out. “I thought you wereher.”
“Oh!” Her temper exploded like a powder keg. “So it would have been perfectly all right for you to rape mysister?”
His expression grew tight with strain. “I should never have brought you here.” Turning toward Gwendolen, he said, “Will you see that she is looked after?”
“Of course,” the Lioness replied, looking startled and ashen faced.
With that, he left Catherine in the solar, as though he had no more use for her, as though she existed only to serve his need to rid himself of the curse.
It was quite some time before she was able to bring her anger under control. Then at last, she found the strength to turn and face her hosts.
As Lady Catherine Montgomery, heiress of Drumloch.
***
Lachlan burst through the solar doors and raked both hands through his hair, clenching his teeth in a frenzy of disbelief as he stormed through the winding corridors of the castle. He didn’t know where he was going. He only needed to exert himself, to use his body to relieve some of the tension that was turning him into a raving madman.
He could not believe it. And yet he could. He’d known from the first moment that there was something wrong about her, that the lass was different from the witch he remembered and reviled, even though she looked the same.
He thought of his immediate attraction to her, how he had become so aroused when he touched her in the stone circle, and was strangely relieved that he had not fallen under some other kind of spell. What he’d felt for her was natural and explicable, for the woman was innocent. Pure of heart. And oh, so incredibly beautiful.
He stopped and laid a hand on the wall to steady himself. He pounded a fist up against it.Bloody hell!What had he just done? She was not Raonaid! She was Lady Catherine Montgomery, and she had learned for the first time today that she had a twin sister, and he had been unthinkably cruel. He had thought only of himself and how he could never have her.
Especiallynot now.
He grabbed his hair in both fists and pressed his back to the wall, then slid down to sit on the cold stone floor. He realized in that moment that the only thing that had kept him sane over the past five days was the underlying belief that he despised her. All the desires he felt and fought against… He’d convinced himself they were some form of sexual madness because of the curse.
But none of that was true. He could no longer depend on his hatred to prevent him from surrendering to his desire.
She was not Raonaid.
She was an innocent, forlorn heiress, who needed help and protection. And what had he done in her worst hour of need? He had let her down.
