Hiswillcollapsed, and he feltcompelledto explain. The wordsspilledout of him quickly. “If it makes any difference, I didn’t plan it.”
She grimaced. “So you aretellingme that you had no control over yourself? I am sorry, Duncan, but that does not make me feel any better. How can I be sure you won’t lose your temper withmeone day? How do I know you won’t slice me in half aswell, if I stir your anger?”
“That would never happen.”
“But you just said you lost control. Your father lost control, too. Hekilleda bishop. You once told me that he was violent with your mother. How can I become your wife, knowing that you are so volatile?”
He strode forward to take her into his arms and convince her that he would never harm her, but she pushed him away.
“Do not touch me. I feel as if I can smell his blood on you.”
He frowned. “This is who I am, Amelia. I am a warrior. I was bred to fight, and I fight for my country. I fight to protectyou.”
“I don’t want to marry a warrior. I want to marry a gentleman.”
She might aswellhave stabbed him in the heart with a hot poker.
“You cannot close your eyes and pretend that war does not exist in the world,” he said bitterly. “Men must fight to protect their freedom and their families.”
“But there are other ways to fight!”
They’d had this argument before, and he was beginning to see, with great frustration, that it was not something they were ever going to agree on. She was disappointed in him now, as he’d always known she would be one day.
“Where is Richard’s body?” she asked. “What did you do with him? He deserves a proper burial.”
She would learn the truth eventual y, so there was no point in keeping it from her. “I sent his head in a bag to the Laird MacDonald.”
Her browspulledtogether in shock. “Muira’s father?”
“Aye.”
“Oh, God! So was this just about avenging her death, then?”
“Nay, I told you before. I did it for Scotland, and to protectyou.I couldn’t risk letting him live.”
She took a deep breath, and he knew she did not believe him. She believed he had done it as an act of revenge, nothing more. “What about the rest of his body? Where is he now?”
“I don’t know. Fergus and Gawyn got rid of him.”
She pushed past Duncan toward the door. “Let me out of here.”
“Amelia…”
She flung the door open but turned back for one final word.
“We have shared many pleasures, Duncan, and you have been good to me. Despite everything—my own judgment included—Istillhave feelings for you, and for that reason Iwillnot expose you as the Butcher. Iwilltake your secret to my grave. But I cannot marry you. I cannot marry a man who takes a life and feels nothing. Even if you see it as a mere casualty of war, how can you notfeelsomething?”
With that she fled from the room, and he was left standing in front of the dying fire, reflecting very careful y upon that question. It was a valid one. Where was his heart? How was it possible he could be so numb and dead inside? He slammed a fist hard upon the mantel, then sank to his knees.
Chapter Twenty-three
Moments later, in the privacy of her bedchamber, Amelia wept for the violent circumstances of Richard’s death and thechilling, gruesome indignity of his severed head traveling in a bag to a neighboring Scottish castle as a prize. She didn’t care what he had done. No human being deserved such treatment.
She wept also for her foolish, aching heart—the mad love she felt for the man who had committed this brutal act of savagery. Her disappointment was beyond measure, her heartbreak inconceivable.allher hopes for a happy life here at Moncrieffe—a life spent with her beautiful lover, who was, for a short time, the true mate of her soul—were crushed. He was not the man she’d believed him to be. She had put too much faith in him, in his ability to overcome his violent nature and embark upon a life of peace and diplomacy. His clothes, his home, his wit, and his charm—allof it was a mask he wore. He’d deluded her father with it, just as he’d deluded her.
Now she must conquer and lay to rest the passion shestillfelt for him—which made no sense, after what he’d just confessed. Yesterday he had told her that passion could blind a person. He was correct on that point. Every time she remembered the pleasure they shared in bed, her heart brokeallover again.
Had he ever truly cared for her? she wondered suddenly.
