Highland Outlaw (Campbell Trilogy #2)(78)
Her heart squeezed as she wrestled with confusion. This should be the happiest moment of her life, but he wouldn't even look at her. She'd gotten what she wanted, but she would run away with him right now if only he would stop acting like this. Too late, she realized that it didn't matter how they married just as long as they were together.
Never had she seen him like this. Patrick seemed a cold, angry shell of the man she loved. His expression was hard and implacable, his eyes flat. All attempts to question him were rebuffed with stony curtness.
What had happened on their way back to the castle yesterday? Was he angry because of her refusal to run away with him or was there some other reason?
Nothing made sense.
She listened as he gave orders to his men and the handful of Campbell guardsmen who would accompany them, and before the sun had crested the horizon, they were on their way to Dunoon.
They rode along the edge of the Ochil hills, then crossed the bridge over the Forth at Stirling. Instead of taking the main road to Lennox, they kept north of the river, following narrow paths across the moors and through woodlands that were at times difficult to make out.
For a man who hadn't wanted to go in the first place, he couldn't seem to get there fast enough. But he was being careful—wary, it seemed, of another attack. She sensed his vigilance in the intensity of his gaze and the way he reacted to every sound distant or near. He had men scouting ahead and behind them as an added precaution.
He pushed them at a brutal pace, traveling for hours— with only short water breaks for the horses—before finally stopping to rest. Though it was only a few hours past noon, with winter creeping ever closer the sun was almost gone.
It wasn't only the horses that were exhausted. Lizzie was a good rider under normal circumstances, but she wasn't accustomed to riding at this gait over difficult terrain for so long. Her legs, not used to such abuse, shook as she tried to dismount. She would have fallen if Patrick hadn't caught her.
Just the sensation of his strong hands around her waist was enough to make her heart clench—and then drop when he released her all too suddenly.
Dear God, what was wrong? He wouldn't even touch her.
Her legs wobbled, but she managed to stay on her feet. “Thank you.” He nodded curtly and started to turn away. She grabbed his arm, the leather of his jerkin cold and stiff under her fingertips. “Wait.”
His gaze met hers. He didn't bother to mask his impatience.
Her heart throbbed, not understanding his coldness. “Where are we?”
“East of Menteith.”
Her brows drew together. “So far north? Shouldn't we be heading south?” Though it was possible to reach Dunoon over land by winding along the fingerlike coast, it was days faster to take a birlinn from Dumbarton across the Clyde. And this late in autumn, there was always weather to consider. They were fortunate thus far to have avoided rain, but the heaviness of the mist descending upon them did not bode well. Her cheeks were already numb from the cold.
“Aye. We'll turn south near Loch Lomond.”
Loch Lomond. A veritable oasis. “Is that where we will stop for the night?”
He shook his head. “We won't be stopping.”
She offered her protest with a groan.
Finally showing some sign of sympathy for her exhaustion, he explained, “I know you are tired, but as you well know, the roads can be dangerous.”
A shiver ran through her. She remembered all too well.
His voice softened. “You are well protected, Lizzie. But it's best if we keep moving. Besides, your cousin is expecting you.” He hardened his jaw. “If that is all, I need to see to the horses.”
Dismissed. Lizzie suddenly felt her pulse spike with anger. She didn't know what was wrong, but whatever it was, she didn't deserve to be treated like this. “That is not all,” she snapped. “I want to know why are you acting like this.”
His eyes sparked with warning. “Leave it be, Lizzie.”
She lifted her chin. “No, I will not leave it be. What have I done to earn your displeasure? I apologize for leaving the castle alone, but I honestly did not see the harm.” He didn't say anything, just stared at her with that hard, implacable look in his emerald gaze. She took a step toward him and gazed up at him beseechingly, wanting to penetrate this mysterious barrier he'd erected between them. “I know you don't want to go to Dunoon, but if it means that much to you, I will go with you right now—wherever you want. It doesn't matter where we marry—”
He swore, cutting her off. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he shook her, his face tortured by conflicting emotions she couldn't even begin to comprehend. “Damn it, Lizzie! Don't you understand? There will be no marriage.”
She recoiled as if he'd slapped her. A bolt of searing white-hot pain shot through her, cutting off her breath. If he'd turned around and shot her with a musket, she couldn't have been more surprised.
Her heart rejected his words even as her eyes confirmed them. One look at him left no doubt. Her eyes burned with dry tears of disbelief as she gazed up into the fierce, handsome face of the man to whom she'd given her heart, the man who now thought to crush it under his heel with all the significance of a bug.
She didn't beg, didn't plead, didn't burst into tears— though she wanted to. Instead, she drew up her shoulders and swallowed the thick ball of hurt, too outraged to let her emotions reign. She wasn't insignificant, and she deserved to be treated better than this. “Am I to be told the reason for this decision, or did you think to just drop me at my cousin's gate and leave with no explanation?”