Highlander Enchanted(17)
She reached the stables and paused again. This time, her thoughts traveled a different path. What if she fled? Left both men and just … ran? She was already homeless and alone, at the mercy of two powerful men, whose intentions were counter to hers. Some part of her had always known there was no return from this journey. What harm was there in being free, truly free, the last few days of her life?
Isabel took a step towards the stables.
“Where do ye go, Lady Cade?”
The way Black Cade said her name, a low growl edged with amusement, sent her stomach aflutter and caused warmth to reach her cheeks. She braced herself and turned to see him. His stance was wide, his moon-hued eyes pinned to her, and his muscular arms were across his chest. He looked every bit the warrior, every bit the cold, cruel man who had taken everyone she loved from her.
“’Tis not your concern, Laird Cade,” she replied.
“Yer in m’home, and already stole one of m’horses. Ye think I’d trust ye with another?”
“You who lied about your true name would pass judgment upon me?” she challenged, anger rising once more.
“A strange lass, an English one at that, shows up claimin’ t’be m’wife and says I should ken this already. Ye began this with a lie, m’lady.”
“Betrothed. And it was not a lie.”
He studied her and moved closer, until the heat of his muscular frame reached her. “I do not ken ye, lass. No king ‘as ever asked me t’wed ye, either. But ye know this, don’t ye? Ye didna come t’wed me.”
She reached into her pocket for the knife. “You know why I came.”
“Yea. To kill me,” he said, amused once more. “Praytell, how have I wronged ye?”
How did he not know? For a moment, she was so surprised at his ignorance of the purpose which consumed her so fully for two years, that she was unable to speak. Had he kilt so many men in battle, he did not remember the noble Englishman her brother was?
“I want to hate you for what you have done, even if ‘tis a sin to feel such,” she whispered. “I wish you had not taken mercy on me.”
“Yer betrothed will remove you from m’home soon enough, Lady Cade.”
The thought of leaving with Richard filled her with despair. “I will not leave with him.”
“Ye wish stay here, m’lady?” he asked her.
“I have no intention of remaining.”
“If ye doona plan t’ leave and ye doona plan to stay, then what is yer plan?”
“I assume you will murder me when I try to kill you,” she answered truthfully.
“You choose death over a life with your betrothed?”
“I choose Hell over a life with him,” she said with rare anger in her voice. “For I shall surely burn for my attempt to kill another. I never intended to return to England. This journey was, and remains, my end.”
“If ye ask it of me, I’ll allow ye t’stay.”
She stared at him. “Did you not hear me? I plan to kill you!”
“Yea. I heard.” He seemed to be trying not to laugh. “Yer hands tell me ye’ve never held a dagger, and yer eyes tell me ye’d never kill a man.”
She looked away. “You are wrong, Laird Cade.”
“Yer brave and beautiful,” he said softly. “I ken what it is to have no home, nowhere t’return to. But I believe here is better than the home ye’ll return to, if ye wed that Englishman.”
Embarrassed by the common knowledge of how Richard treated her, Isabel almost corrected Black Cade for speaking on a matter he should not. She did not want to feel more of a connection to him than she had at the river, when their fates, and bodies, had been locked together. “If you want to help me, then you will allow me to kill you. I shall never know peace until I do.” With a hasty bow, she strode away, once again unsettled by her interaction with him.
“I havena finished speaking t’ye, Lady Cade,” he called after her.
“But I am done with you, Laird Cade!”
“Then ye doona mind me sharing the contents of yer bag with your betrothed.”
She froze, her breath caught in her throat.
“You need yer rest today and t’see the healer fer yer leg. I will tell him so,” he said. “Meet me tomorrow morning, before we break our fast, and we will talk.”
What is there to discuss? She almost spoke the words aloud but stopped herself. As pleasant as his words sounded, no part of what he said was a request. She could ill afford to anger the man she meant to kill, but it was the relief washing over her, the knowledge she was at least safe in his home for one more day where she could heal, that left her even angrier.
Why had her enemy chosen mercy once more? Why did it almost sound as if he were protecting her?
Black Cade said nothing more, and she turned to see him walking away. Her eyes lingered too long on his body.
Why can I not hate him? she asked herself quietly. It was a sin, yes, but if any man had earned her sin, it was the one granting her refuge against her own countryman and betrothed. Shame brought warmth to her cheeks this time, and she turned away from him.
At a loss as to how to handle Black Cade or the flurry of unnerving emotion she experienced around him, she did as he bade and returned to her chamber.
An older woman with mostly white hair and bright blue eyes stood immediately from her position seated near the bed. She carried a small basket and offered a quick curtsey.