thought of how close he had come to death—and all because I had wounded him—was enough to flood me with an ocean of regret. “I’m sorry I wounded you.”
He watched me for a moment, and I could not read his expression. “’Twas my own fault, for letting my guard down. I was unusually distracted. Practically blinded, in fact.” His mouth quirked at the memory of his own reaction. “’Tis understandable, under the circumstances. Would you not agree?”
He took another bite of bread and waited for my reply, which I did not give. I wasn’t sure what answer he was expecting. Instead, I returned his light smile and offered him some tea, which he drank, watching me all the while.
“So,” he began. “Let’s start at the beginning, and where we left off in the cave, where I believe you made a promise to me, which you have barely begun to uphold.” Again, I was unsure of his meaning, yet I didn’t interrupt him. I was, briefly, mesmerized by the shape of his lips as he sipped his drink, and the memory of the gentle brush of them against my own. “Tell me, then,” he said. “Why did you flee your Ogilvie clan?”
There was never any doubt I would be wholly honest with Wilkie. But I stumbled over my words nonetheless. “I had to. I—I struck the laird with a kitchen knife. I would have been killed, I think, or banished to the dungeons. I’ve never been to the dungeons, but I’ve heard it said that hell itself is preferable.”
“Very likely so,” he agreed. “You make a habit of wielding blades at hapless men?” His question was calm yet chiding, and I found myself mildly hurt by it. I hadn’t set out to injure Laird Ogilvie, or Wilkie; nor had I wanted to.
“Of course not. ’Twas the first time I’d ever struck out at anyone. I only did what I had to do to escape him.”
“I’m sure you had good reason to attack the laird of your keep—certainly a crime punishable by death, or worse. You were wise to run.” I wasn’t entirely pleased with the direction this conversation had taken. And I couldn’t decipher the layers of his emotion. Was there anger there or merely curiosity? He continued, “You knifed him intentionally?”
“Aye,” I confirmed quietly.
“Why is that?”
I paused. I didn’t want him to think badly of me, but he was entitled to the truth. Every truth. I knew it and he knew it. We were bonded already, in a meaningful way. I didn’t understand it, but already it was the surest thing about me. I would answer any and all of his questions. My warrior, I was learning, was protective, possessive and extremely direct.
At my brief silence, his eyes visibly darkened as he watched me. He may have guessed at the answer I hesitated to give.
“He wanted to add me to his collection of mistresses,” I finally said. “As is probably clear enough by my desertion. I had long thought about attempting to flee from him. But I had nowhere to go. In the end, I decided exile was preferable to servitude of that kind. Work is one thing, captivity quite another.”
Wilkie’s fist constricted, and the muscles of his arm grew taut and strained. I wanted to ease his reaction, but I thought at this moment it was better to leave him be. In the end, I didn’t touch him, leaving my own hands clasped in my lap.
It was some time before he asked his question.
“Were you able to fight him off?” His fist remained clenched. He looked so quietly furious that I almost feared him at that moment.
“Aye,” I assured him, but my whispered affirmation was barely audible.
“You succeeded in escaping before he was able to—”
“Aye, warrior. He didn’t know I was armed. I surprised him with my attack, and I fled immediately.”
He lowered his gaze and considered this for a minute or more. Then he raised his eyes to me and I could see there an anxious, tentative question. “So you never...agreed?”
I understood what he was asking. “Nay, warrior. Not once. Not to anyone.”
His relief was palpable, and his tender smile was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen on this earth. It touched my heart and stole my breath. “You...are the only one,” I told him, meaning to continue, but stopping once the words were spoken. They summed up everything I needed to say. And even as I said them, I felt the now-familiar honey-sweet ache low in my stomach. His hand reached for mine, enveloping both of my own, clasped tightly in my lap. He loosened my grip and held one hand, stroking his thumb lightly across my palm, as though sensing my shame and attempting to soothe it all away.
“You did what you had to do,” he said. “It took courage to do what needed doing. I’m not angry with you, lass. How could I be? You’re an angel, after all, ’tis it not so?”
In fact I didn’t know what I was, or even who I was. Or where I had come from. I had a raging urge to show Wilkie my tattoo, to reveal all the dark mystery of my past, to see if this uncommonly intense and sudden bond was stronger than my fear. But I couldn’t do it. I was too afraid he would be repulsed by me, that he would no longer want me, that he would cast me back into the bleak darkness of my former life. “Nay. I’m not an angel.”
“You’re my angel,” he said, insistent. His expression was affectionate, and his dark-lit blue eyes searched mine for signs that I might be reassured. “You’re never to fear me. All right? I just want to learn you.”
“All right.”
“So, hungry, exiled and alone, you raided our orchard for food.”
“Aye,” I said. “I’m sorry about that, too.”
“Not I.” His half smile touched my secret places, warming me yet further. “If you hadn’t stolen from us, I wouldn’t have followed you. I was intrigued, aye. I thought you an easy conquest, or I wouldn’t have chased you alone. And when you spoke, with your voice undisguised, I had a feeling you were not what you first appeared to be. You looked so...”
I waited for him to finish, and when he didn’t immediately reply, my curiosity got the better of me. “So what?”
“So small. So slender. I wasn’t expecting you to be quite so fierce.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, willing myself not to weep at the thought of my ferocity and its outcome.
“Not I,” he repeated. “If you hadn’t struck me, I wouldn’t have struck you, then I wouldn’t have removed your helmet and laid eyes on the most beautiful creature in this life, or any other. At that moment, our fates entwined, Roses. I know not why, but I know it to be true—I am bound to you forevermore. There is nothing to regret.”
My heart fairly sang at his words. My warrior wanted me here. I could stay with him, at least for a time. You will be fed, and you will be under our protection until our brother is fit enough to decide your fate.
“You did surprise me at the loch, aye,” he said softly.
I blushed again, remembering when and how I had surprised him. I’d wanted to look away from him, but he was too alluring, in my memory and even more so here and now.
“Would you like me to change your dressing, warrior? And wash you?” The heat that flushed my cheeks only burned even more fervently as I realized what
