Highland Outlaw (Campbell Trilogy #2)(103)
He couldn't imagine what she was thinking. He'd probably never felt a moment of self-doubt or insecurity in his life. Her eyes raked over his too perfect face, her heart straining to beat in her tight chest. Tears swam before her eyes. “P-p-poor, pathetic Elizabeth Campbell.” She took a deep breath, forcing the stammer from her voice. Could she be any more humiliated already? “A plain girl with a stammer and three broken engagements would be grateful for the attention of any man, let alone a sinfully handsome one like yourself. Did you think me so desperate that I would fall at your feet?” The memories stabbed. She would lap it up like a grateful pup. And she had. She'd fallen right into his seductive trap. But look at him—she'd never had a chance. A sob tore from her chest. Eyes wide, she gazed up at him and asked in a tiny voice, “Did you laugh at me?”
He pulled her fiercely against him in a tight embrace, not letting her push him away. “Never! Don't ever think that. Aye, I admit I thought you might have been left vulnerable by what had happened, but that is not the reason I wanted to marry you. I wanted you from the first moment I saw you, and it had nothing to do with pity.”
She heard the vehemence and sincerity in his voice, but it couldn't completely pierce the veil of hurt or repair the damage to her pride. Pride that had taken years to rebuild. “I'm to believe that?”
“It's the truth.”
She wanted to believe him, and perhaps deep down she did, but she couldn't get the images out of her head. Had they laughed at her? Made fun of her?
She cringed, unable to think about it. He'd thought her an easy mark—a scorned woman who'd be only too grateful for his attentions. She'd thought she'd put that day behind her, but perhaps there was still a part of her that believed that her deep-rooted desire to fall in love made her susceptible to being taken advantage of—just as John had done. “I don't know which is worse,” she said miserably, “to be pursued for my land or for being an easy mark.”
But certainly not for me.
“Stop.” His expression was as hard as she'd ever seen it. “I will not let you think that way. You are making more of this than there ever was. Even if I suspected you would be susceptible to seduction, I quickly learned that I was wrong. If anything, you had been made more wary by what had happened before. My motives for finding you again might have been ill conceived, but I'll never be sorry that I did. I wanted to marry you because I fell in love with you. Not for your land, but for you.” His thumb swept over the curve of her cheek, wiping away a single tear. He looked right into her eyes. “I love you, Elizabeth Campbell, with all my heart.”
For an instant, happiness broke through the pain. I love you. Words she'd dreamed of but never heard. Not until now. Why now? “You don't need to say that just to make me feel better.”
His jaw flexed, and pride radiated from him. “I've never said those words to anyone before.” His penetrating gaze moved over her. “Nor do they come easy for me.”
Lizzie heard the censure in his voice and understood— he'd held himself apart for so long because of all that had been taken from him. Relinquishing that control over his emotions would have not come easily. Those words had cost him a lot. “I want to believe you.”
He took her chin in his hand and turned her face to his, his gaze tender and … loving. “Then do. Does knowing I was there that day really change anything, Lizzie? However it started, I do love you. That isn't a lie. After all we've been through, all that we've shared, can you really doubt my feelings for you?”
She looked up at him with watery eyes. Could she? She knew the answer in her heart.
A sound in the distance behind them, however, drew his immediate attention. He swore and grabbed her hand. “I will prove it to you if it takes me a lifetime, but the rest of this discussion will have to wait. They're coming. We have to go. Quickly.”
She nodded, not wasting any time arguing, and ran. After a few minutes, an old stone church—now a kirk— came into view on the other side of a small hill. What looked to be a small waterfall ran alongside it. A large crowd of men and horses filled the yard.
Patrick turned to her with an encouraging smile. “Not much farther. My men—”
He stopped in his tracks and swore.
“What's wrong?”
He turned to her, eyes blank. “Those aren't my men.”
“Then who?” Her gaze shot back to the kirk, and she easily recognized the man who was mounting his horse, obviously intending to give them chase. “It's Jamie!” Her heart gave an involuntary lift before she realized what it meant—if her brother was here, that meant Patrick's men were not.
She put a restraining arm on Patrick when she recognized the man at Jamie's side. Colin. Dear God. Patrick's entire body went tight as a whip. His face contorted with hatred—and she knew that if he had the opportunity, he would kill Colin without a second thought.
She would never know what might have happened, because at that moment a hail of arrows flew from the trees behind them, one landing not three feet from where she was standing. Patrick shouted a warning and pulled her around in front of him. She felt the frantic pounding of his heart at her back. The arrow could have killed her.
She didn't need to look to know that it had come from his brother.