Highland Surrender (18 page)

Read Highland Surrender Online

Authors: Dawn Halliday

BOOK: Highland Surrender
13.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
 
E
lizabeth was tending to the fire when the door to Gràinne’s cottage flew open. She glanced up to see Cam stride in, followed by Rob MacLean, who paused at the door. His amber gaze perused the room until it landed on her.
She’d hardly seen him since the night they’d met at the cave. But she’d dreamed about him, and a flush prickled over her body as she remembered his lips, soft and supple, gliding over her skin in her dream as she’d stroked the dips and curves of his muscular arms and shoulders.
She’d already had an odd afternoon, filled as it had been with honesty and lined with compassion for the woman who’d been so wretchedly mistreated. But when she locked eyes with Robert MacLean, a whole host of new emotions burst through and then exploded in a shower of bright sparks. When his gaze collided with hers, a million tiny burning lights settled over her heart. She sighed with the beauty of it. She felt trust . . . comfort, relief, excitement, and fascination with the man who’d followed her betrothed into the cottage.
As impossible as it was, how freeing, how wonderful it felt, when she’d thought she’d never experience any of those emotions again.
Rob’s warm gaze lingered on her; then he stepped outside and closed the door behind him.
“What happened?” Cam demanded, his focus entirely on the sole occupant of the bed. “Speak to me, Gràinne.”
“I’m quite all right. Ceana has taken good care of me.”
Cam closed his eyes, then opened them. In this light, his eyes appeared black and hard, reminding Elizabeth of a shiny obsidian rock she’d seen once in London.
“Where is the bastard? I’ll kill him.”
So this woman wasn’t only Cam’s occasional bedmate. He cared for her. The truth should have made Elizabeth mad with jealousy, but oddly, it warmed her to him.
“Och,” Gràinne said to the earl. “Don’t fret over him. He’s long gone, and he’ll not be back.”
Elizabeth glanced at Ceana, who stood quietly beside Cam, her eyes downcast. She didn’t understand the woman. One moment she was the strongest person Elizabeth had ever seen: direct and forthright, intimidating and unstoppable. The next she was quiet, almost shy.
Cam still hadn’t seen Elizabeth. She didn’t know him well enough to guess how he’d react to discovering her in a loose woman’s abode, and she didn’t dare contemplate what might happen if Uncle Walter found out. Better she remained hunched beside the fireplace than draw attention to herself.
Cam loomed over Gràinne, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. His gaze slid to Ceana. “How bad is it?”
“She’ll recover. I’ve tended to her wounds. She should remain in bed for a day or two.”
“I’ll send someone up to look after her.”
“Nay,” Gràinne said. “My friends will care for me well enough. Better my peers than someone down the mountain who will look upon me in disgust and resent the help you force them to offer me. Unlike your young bride over there, who’s been generous in contrast.”
Cam’s gaze snapped to the hearth, and his eyes widened to black pools. “Elizabeth?” His jaw worked as he searched for something to say. “What . . . what the devil are you doing here?”
Ceana straightened. “She came with me.”
As Elizabeth rose from her crouched position, a deep red spread across Cam’s cheekbones. He looked back and forth from Ceana to Elizabeth. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I am all right, my lord.”
Cam’s lips tightened. “No, you are not all right. It is inappropriate and unseemly for you to be anywhere near the mountain. I shall take you home. Immediately.” He straightened and backed away from the bed, but Ceana caught his arm.
“Don’t be absurd,” she snapped. Elizabeth was relieved to see that Ceana’s more natural demeanor had returned.
Cam glowered at Ceana. “What?”
“You mustn’t shelter the lass, Cam. Don’t think you can keep her locked away in Camdonn Castle for the remainder of her days.”
Cam’s brows arched. “Why not?”
“She’s to be your countess, not your prisoner.”
Cam flicked a glance at her, then returned his attention to Ceana. “You don’t understand. You do not know how delicate she is. How sensitive. She’s a duke’s niece. She’s unused to Highland ways. She’s
English
, for God’s sake. Not a Highlander.”
All three women met these remarks with silence. Ceana’s expression turned hard as stone. Gràinne looked in Elizabeth’s direction, her lips curving wickedly, as if daring her to contradict the earl. Elizabeth lowered her gaze. She was trained—perhaps too well—not to interfere when others spoke of her. Her opinion didn’t matter. She’d been reminded of that fact time and again through the years. And if Cam were to tell her uncle she’d opposed him . . . she didn’t dare imagine the consequences.
In any case, if she did speak, what would she say? Did Cam truly expect her to live like an English lady here? The differences between this place and her home were too vast. Even if she remained sequestered within the castle, her life had already changed irrevocably.
Ceana glanced at her, and when Elizabeth didn’t come to her own defense, she narrowed her eyes at Cam. “That’s a foolish thing to say. Take a hard look at the lass. Not at her past, but at her. See who she is.”
Elizabeth felt Cam’s gaze burning into her bowed head. “I see a frightened girl who wishes to go home. I cannot believe you brought her here, Ceana. I thought you wiser than that.”
“And I took you for something other than a fool!” Ceana spat.
“Come, Elizabeth. I’ll take you home.” He took her arm and led her toward the door. “Will you wait outside for me? I must speak to . . . to Gràinne for a moment.”
“Of course,” she murmured.
“MacLean will look out for you.”
He left her on the front stoop and turned, shutting the door behind him, leaving Elizabeth to meet Rob’s steady gaze.
“Good afternoon.”
He inclined his head. He didn’t say a word, but his eyes spoke volumes. He wondered why she’d come here, what she’d learned, what she was thinking.
It was a warm afternoon, and Elizabeth adjusted her bonnet so that the sun wouldn’t shine directly on her face and cause her skin to freckle. She glanced down the dirt path strung between the cottages. A group of women stood clustered a short distance away, casting curious glances toward them. Elizabeth pulled her gloves from where she’d tucked them into her belt and tugged them on.
The door opened and Cam emerged. “Forgive me.”
She took his proffered arm. “Nothing at all to forgive.”
Cam blew out a frustrated breath. Rob glanced at him, then away. Elizabeth nearly smiled. Everyone knew exactly what had happened here, understood the association between Cam and Gràinne, but the men were too cowardly to discuss it in her presence. Cam was deeply concerned for the whore, and he likely expected Elizabeth to be either angry or appalled. He couldn’t possibly understand that she was only curious and interested. She wanted to see Gràinne soon to make certain she was all right. Perhaps Ceana would bring her to the mountain again.
But Uncle Walter . . .
He and Cam had said they’d return from their fishing expedition tomorrow. The weather was fine, and there was no reason for them to have returned earlier. Unless someone had gone after Cam to inform him about Gràinne, she realized. Lord, what a fool she’d been. She was so stupid, so terribly stupid. She’d been a fool to think she’d be safe today. Her selfishness was responsible for this. Her impetuous, thoughtless nature. Her craving to explore, to be outside, to spend time with Ceana . . .
Elizabeth shuddered. Uncle Walter would be angry, and there was nothing she could do to prevent the repercussions. Bitsy’s tortured face imprinted itself on her mind.
Please God
, she prayed.
Make him lenient.
Cam cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. You should not have seen that. I cannot fathom what Ceana was thinking.”
“Truly, it is all right,” she murmured. “Please don’t blame Miss MacNab. I . . . I wanted to come. I asked her to bring me along.”
There. She’d said it. The truth. She held her breath.
He frowned down at her. “Why?”
“I like Ceana. She is . . . my friend.”
He frowned harder. But he looked away without comment, leaving an unsettled feeling fluttering in her stomach. She’d half expected him to forbid her to associate with Ceana, as her uncle had.
“I . . .” Cam’s voice faltered. He took a deep breath and tried again. “Gràinne . . . She is an old acquaintance of mine.”
Looking up at him from beneath her eyelashes, she nodded.
“I just wanted to let you know.” His voice sounded strangled as he spoke. “You must know that she is no threat to you, Elizabeth.”
“Oh,” Elizabeth murmured. “I didn’t—”
“Of course you did not,” Cam interrupted. His stance was so taut, she thought if she pushed him, he might break into a thousand pieces. “I merely didn’t want you to succumb to any notion that she could threaten you or your status. In any way.”
As always, their communications were formal, even awkward. Would it always be this way? She took a breath. “Yes, my lord. Of course. I understand. As the earl, you are concerned about
all
of your neighbors.”
Cam glanced heavenward as if in thankfulness; then he relaxed a little and smiled at her. “Yes, that’s right. That’s exactly it.”
Rob and Cam flanked her as they walked toward two horses. Elizabeth’s breath caught. “Ceana said you weren’t to ride, my lord.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” Cam said grimly. “I had to make . . .” He glanced at her, looked away, then continued. “I had to be certain Gràinne was all right.”
“How is your shoulder?” she asked quietly.
“Ceana bound it tightly this morning, and the scab held.”
Elizabeth released a breath of relief. “She’ll throttle you if she hears you rode.”
“Yes.” He glanced at Rob. “We’ll keep this between the three of us, I think.”
Focused on the horses, Rob nodded but didn’t speak.
Cam mounted and then reached down with his good hand to pull her up. Elizabeth paused. She didn’t hesitate because she’d rather ride with Rob. Truly, she didn’t. She hesitated out of concern for her betrothed’s injured shoulder.
“My lord.” She twisted her hands. “Please. I don’t wish to risk your wound.”
Rob, already mounted, turned his horse until it stood behind her. “She ought to ride with me, milord. So as not to cause you further injury.”
Cam ground his teeth and muttered under his breath, but he relinquished her to Rob. Just the thought of riding with Robert MacLean—a joy she’d thought to never experience again—sent shivers of delight coursing through her.
Under Cam’s watchful eye, Rob dismounted and, in a fluid motion, lifted her onto the saddle and then remounted behind her.
Cam motioned them ahead, for the path was too narrow for two horses side by side. They began the slow climb down the mountain in utter quiet.
As they descended, Elizabeth studied the details of her surroundings. Baby leaves had begun to sprout on the trees, speckling the dull brown branches with vivid green. She’d always loved spring best of all the seasons, and surely there had to be some significance to her leaving Purefoy Abbey to be married at this time of year.
Heather grew everywhere, covering the ground in long, stretching clumps. They rode past tall pines, clumps of thin-trunked trees, and bushes budding with violet flowers. She wondered what they’d look like when they opened. Whether they’d smell sweet or bitter, or have no smell at all.
Rob’s knee pressed against her thigh and his arm was clamped around her waist so she wouldn’t fall if the horse sidestepped or fumbled. Yet he held himself as stiff as a pike, no doubt aware of the earl’s eyes boring into them from behind.
“You were easier with me that night at the loch,” she murmured.
“Aye.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “And you responded to me. With more than one word.”
His lips twitched. “Aye, so I did.”
“But you don’t now.”
“It wouldn’t be wise.”
She sighed. “Well, that’s likely true.” She let her fingertip trail over the top of the hand clamped over her middle. Quietly, she traced every long finger up to the edge of his sleeve cuff. He had beautiful hands.
“Elizabeth,” he said on a soft groan. “You shouldn’t touch me.”
She dropped her hand, fighting a smile. “You called me Elizabeth.”
“You’d prefer ‘milady’?”
“No,” she said instantly. “Not from you.” She liked the sound of her name rolling off his tongue in his brogue.
She looked back over her shoulder to see him smiling at her. It was beautiful, natural, and she realized she’d never seen him smile before. It stole her breath away.

Other books

A Guardians Angel by Jo Ann Ferguson
Painted Boots by Morrison, Mechelle
The Position 3 by Izzy Mason
Cut, Crop & Die by Joanna Campbell Slan
Spirit Lost by Nancy Thayer
This Merry Bond by Sara Seale
Silken Dreams by Bingham, Lisa