The Campbell Trilogy (25 page)

After their wedding night, he’d hoped it might be a new beginning for them. But whatever her blasted cousin had said to her that morning had cured him of that notion. He’d sensed her withdrawal, her subtle pulling away.

Their closeness at night only served to make it worse. It gave him a small taste of how things might be. If only she would give him a chance. But he was beginning to wonder whether that would ever happen. How could it, when every venomous look directed at him by her clansmen widened the chasm between them?

“What are you doing?” she cried, running up to him. “These are my father’s men.” She turned to one of the bound men and threw her arms around him, not caring that he was layered with dirt and grime from months of living in squalor. Her overt display of emotion for her father’s guardsman when she could barely manage to look at Jamie in the daylight ate like acid in his chest. “Seamus,” she said softly. “I thought you were—”

“It’s good to see your bonny face, lass,” the older man replied. “We feared the same of you. It was only with news of your
marriage
,” he sneered, “to Argyll’s Henchman that we were sure you had survived.”

“I’m so happy to see all of you,” she said, touching the face of another man—this one far younger—with such tenderness that Jamie felt as if she’d just slipped a dirk between his ribs.

He wanted something from her so badly, he could almost taste it.

But when she turned to look at him, there was no sign of affection or tenderness on her face—only betrayal and distrust. “Release these men at once.”

Jamie stiffened but otherwise ignored her demand. He felt his temper—something he hadn’t known he had before meeting her—rise. Cool rationality gave way to hot emotion.

A kind of hush descended over the crowd as they waited for his reaction. How would the most feared man in the Highlands react to being ordered about by a lass?

Seamus moved in front of her. “I’ll protect you, lass.”

“From what?” Caitrina replied, completely oblivious.

That was some consolation, Jamie reflected, though admittedly small. Unlike these men, she knew he would never hurt her. Not that she didn’t deserve a good tongue-lashing. But right now he didn’t trust himself not to say something he couldn’t take back.

“I thought I told you to send for me when you wished to come to the castle,” he said, not bothering to mask his annoyance.

“There was no need—”

“In the future,
wife
,” he said with emphasis, “you will do as I say.”

Her cheeks burned with indignation, but wisely she chose not to argue. He was thinking only of her safety, but damned if he would explain himself again.

He heard the grumblings of her clansmen but also sensed their grudging admiration. By all rights, he could have done much worse. He was laird, and his word was law—and hardly subject to the dictates of a lass. Even one who was his wife. Her clansmen might not like it, but they would not interfere. Pride reigned supreme for a Highlander. No Highlander worth his salt would stand for his lady questioning his decisions before his men.

Perhaps realizing that she’d overstepped her bounds, she moderated her tone. “Please,” she said. “What cause have you to bind these men?”

“None,” Seamus replied. “Except that he’s a rot Campbell bastard who burns and pillages people from their homes to fatten the pockets of a tyrant.”

“Enough!” Jamie boomed. It wasn’t his fault the men were bound in the first place, but they’d refused to surrender under the conditions he’d granted. He turned to the captain of his guardsmen. “Take these men back to Rothesay. Perhaps after a few days in the dungeon they will change their minds.”

Caitrina gasped. “No! You can’t—”

“Yes,” he said with deadly calm. “I can.”

“Don’t worry, lass,” Seamus said. “The Henchman doesn’t scare us.”

Jamie met the older man’s stare with such intensity that he dropped his gaze, proving his lie.

Her husband addressed the rest of the men who’d gathered round to watch the proceedings. “Return to work, all of you.” After issuing a few specific instructions to the two men he’d designated as foremen, he allowed his gaze to settle again on his wife. It almost hurt just to look at her. “If you would like to return to Rothesay, I can have one of my men escort you.”

“I don’t need—”

The furious look on his face stopped her.

“Please,” she said, moving in front of him. She placed her hand on his arm. Already on edge, every nerve in his body leapt at her touch. “Will you not speak to me? In private.”

He turned his gaze, not daring to look at her hand. “I’m busy.”

“A few minutes are all I ask. Surely you can spare a few minutes?”

Though he wasn’t sure he wanted to have this conversation in his present mood, he nodded stiffly and motioned her toward the gate. They walked down the path to the loch in silence. When they reached the edge of the water, he turned to her, his face expressionless. “What is it you wished to say?” Or accuse him of, which was probably more likely.

“Will you not explain to me why you have imprisoned my father’s men?”

Tired of her thinking the worst of him, he was tempted not to, but the soft plea in her voice tugged at the part of him that still sought her understanding. “I believe I told you when we married that I’d taken surety for your clan—making me responsible for their actions. I’ve been charged
with clearing Bute of outlaws, and I damn well intend to do so.” He’d shocked her with his language, but he didn’t care. She thought him a brute, so be it.

She studied his face as if looking for a crack. “I thought you’d come here to help rebuild Ascog.”

“I did. But I have other duties.” He gave her a long look. “Just what is it you think I do, Caitrina?”

“I …,” she stammered, eyes wide.

He took her elbow and pulled her against him, his body a mass of gnarling tension. He couldn’t be this close to her, breathe in her seductive scent, and not want to take her into his arms and kiss her. To claim her body, even if she was determined to give him nothing else. “If men break the law, it is my responsibility to see them brought to justice.”

He was not ashamed of what he did; without men like him, there would be anarchy and chaos.

He could feel the pounding of her heart. No matter what else, she was not unaffected by his touch. “But what have they done?” she breathed, her voice shallow.

“Do you mean after giving shelter to the MacGregors? They tried to attack my men and relieve them of some silver that I’d given them to purchase materials for the rebuilding of Ascog.”

Clearly, he’d shocked her. “I’m sure they didn’t know.”

“I’m sure they didn’t, but is that an excuse?”

“No, but couldn’t you give them a chance? Once they know that you are only trying to help.”

He gave her a hard look. “I did. I offered them a reprieve if they would agree to surrender and swear to me as their laird.”

“Truly?” Her face lit with happiness. “That is wonderful.”

“Your father’s men refused.”

Her face fell. “Oh.” She swallowed thickly. “I see.”

And he could tell that she did. She’d misjudged him and knew it. He released her, but she didn’t move away.

“So what will you do now?” she asked.

“If they do not reconsider, I will send them to Dunoon.”

“No!” Her horrified gaze flew to his. “You can’t do that.”

He clenched his jaw, a reaction to her again telling him what he could and could not do. “It is your father’s men who give me no choice.”

“Please,” she said, putting her hand on him again—this time on his chest. It burned like a brand over his heart. She had to dip her head back to look at him. “Please. You can’t. They’ll be hanged.”

Blood pounded through his body. He was achingly aware of the subtle persuasion of her body. He knew what she was doing, but damn her, it was working. Something stirred in his chest. He wanted to stay aloof, but he was not immune to her pleas. Would he ever be? And that perhaps more than anything angered him.

“Let me talk to them,” she pleaded. “I can make them see reason.”

It was what he’d sought all along. He had no more wish to send her father’s men to their death than she. He nodded. “See that you do.” His own weakness where she was concerned made his voice sound harsher than he intended. “But, Caitrina, this is the last time. Do not try to interfere with my duty again.”

He wondered for whose benefit he said it. Their interests had jibed this time. But he knew it wouldn’t always be so. This woman would stretch his duty to the breaking point because he’d do just about anything to please her.

All at once she dropped her hand, seeming to realize what she’d been doing—touching him, entreating him with the press of her body.

Caitrina had never seen him like this. He was furious with her. And worse, she knew it was not without justification. Once again, she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion.
But when she’d seen her father’s men bound and then later heard his orders to send them to the dungeon, tact had flown out the window and all she could think of was his fearsome reputation.

Given what her father’s men had done in waylaying his men, Jamie had been more than fair. And she’d not given him even the barest benefit of the doubt.

Instead she’d made demands, ordering him to release them without waiting to hear his explanation—and in doing so questioned his authority in front of her clan. And when that hadn’t worked, she’d unconsciously fallen back on the one thing neither of them could deny to try to get through to him: their attraction.

He was not as impervious to her as he wanted to be, and there was something heady in the knowledge that she held sway over this fierce warrior.

But clearly, he wasn’t happy about it. It had worked, but at what cost?

He’d turned and started back up the hill toward the tower. She felt a stab of panic, scared that if she let him walk away, it might be too late. “Wait.” She rushed after him. He turned slowly and looked at her, his slate blue eyes giving no hint to his thoughts. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interfere. It’s just that those men … you can’t understand what it means for me to see them after all these months of not knowing whether they’d lived or died. Some of them I’ve known my whole life. Seamus used to sit me on his knee before the fire and let me play with his beard while regaling me with countless tales of our ancestors. I didn’t mean to shame you by questioning your actions before my clansmen, but it’s only natural that I would feel loyalty to them.”

“Your first loyalty should be to me.”

She felt a stab of guilt. He was right, but it wasn’t that simple. “You’re asking me to forget years of hatred and distrust between our clans.”
And what I know of you.

“No, I’m not. I’m asking you to trust me.”

But could she? At times she wanted to. But her uncertainty must have shown on her face.

“What cause have I given you not to trust me?” he challenged. “Have I hurt you? Lied to you? Done anything to earn your distrust?”

She shook her head. On the contrary, he’d surprised her at every turn. And then there were those glimpses of tenderness, the side of him that he kept hidden but at times would reveal to her. “I want to trust you, but …”

“But what?”

She twisted her hands, not knowing how to explain. How could she explain that in trusting him, she feared she would lose some of her past forever? That it would feel as if she were cutting herself off from her clan? “It can’t change overnight. Everything has happened so fast. I don’t know what to believe.” She gazed into his eyes, silently begging for understanding. “I’m confused.”

“And yet you don’t seem confused at night. You give me your body willingly enough.”

Her chest squeezed and heat burned her cheeks. “That’s different.”

“Is it?” He arched a brow. “How? You trust me with your body, but not with your heart.”

She stilled. Was that what he wanted from her? It was impossible.

Blood pounded in her ears. How could she explain that at night it was only the two of them? That the problems of the day did not penetrate the darkness? Why was he pressing her like this? He asked for something she was not ready to give. “It’s my duty to give you my body,” she blurted helplessly.

His face was a mask of stone, yet somehow she knew that she’d hurt him. Maybe it was in the sudden flex of his jaw or the small white lines that appeared around his mouth. His eyes pinned her. “It doesn’t feel like duty when
you moan, taking me deep into your body. Over and over.” He took an intimidating step closer, and she could feel the anger radiate from him. “Riding me until you come.”

She flinched from the brutal honesty of his words. “How dare you!” Hot shame crawled up her cheeks. Her passion—her hunger—for him embarrassed her. It was all-consuming, wild, and unencumbered.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of,” he said more kindly. “I love your passion.”

But how do you feel about me?
She wished she could read his mind. It was clear he was angry with her for not trusting him blindly. But what did she really know of him other than in bed? She barely saw him during the day. He kept himself so detached from her—except for that morning after they wed. Then, she could almost believe … She turned away, emotion thickening her voice. “What do you want from me? I married you, I come to your bed willingly, isn’t that enough?”

He drew back as if slapped. “No. I don’t think it is.”

This was all coming out wrong. How could she explain that she did trust him, just not as completely as he wanted? “What you are asking for doesn’t happen overnight. It takes time.”

“Of course.” The chill in his voice could have frozen a loch in midsummer. “Perhaps we both need more time.”

What did he mean by that? She watched him go, his broad, muscled back retreating up the hill, and didn’t know what to do. She wanted to call him back but didn’t know what to say to make it right.

After a few minutes she followed him, spending the rest of the day following the progress of the cleanup and carefully avoiding her husband. When it was time for her to return to the castle, she found herself escorted by a few of his men.