Highland Scoundrel (Campbell Trilogy #3)(65)
She heard the not-so-subtle criticism and fought to keep her temper in check. “How dare you,” she seethed. “Once I would have defied my father in the worst way possible. I was ready to run off with you. I would have left everything for you. It was not me who broke the vow. You were the one who left. What reason did I have not to marry Francis? Should I have waited these ten years for you to return?”
“No,” he said, taken aback by the emotion in her voice.
He'd never looked at what happened from her perspective. He'd taken her innocence, vowed to marry her, and then left her. He'd hurt her when he left, he couldn't deny it.
He'd thought he had reason, but what if he was wrong? She sounded so sincere. He shouldn't have asked her about her past, but he'd seen her sadness and wondered what her life had been like. But thinking about her married to another man ate through his gut like acid. The selfish part of him wanted her to have known the same emptiness he had. “You deny taking the map, but not once have you questioned my guilt. Why is that?”
She lifted her eyes back to his. “Perhaps I have more faith in you, than you have in me.”
The rebuke was not without effect. Should he have trusted her when all evidence pointed against her? With Jeannie he'd let himself get carried away. He'd allowed his feelings for her to affect his judgment, something that had never happened to him before and he didn't like. When he thought she'd betrayed him, he'd been ashamed of falling trap to his emotions. He'd felt responsible for the loss of the battle and for his father's death. In his shame and anger had he rushed to judgment? It would be a horrible irony given what had happened to him.
Could he have failed her so miserably? He recoiled from the thought, reminding himself that even if she hadn't taken the map, she'd still made her choice. And no matter what she tried to claim now, it had never been him. “Faith? It wasn't in me. You never would have defied your father. Your actions are proof enough of that.”
Her eyes flashed with green fire. “How can you say that?” Her tiny fist landed on his chest with surprising force. “Was my innocence not enough for you? What more proof did you want from me?”
The fact that she'd given herself to him had always bothered him. But he'd convinced himself that it had been unintentional. That like him she'd been carried away by the moment. She had cared for him, just not enough.
He grabbed her hand and held it firm against his chest, his heart pounding. “You said you loved me and agreed to marry me. Your loyalty should have been with me, but you chose your father. You knew he intended treachery and chose to say nothing. You let me ride away, knowing I might not come back.” His voice shook with emotion he could no longer contain. “My father died because of that battle, Jeannie.”
Tears sprang in her eyes to slide down her pale cheeks. His hand lifted but he checked the impulse. He would not comfort her, damn it.
“I'm sorry. I tried to warn you. But what would you have me do? I knew that if I told you, my father's life would have been forfeit. Would you have kept my secret and said nothing to your cousin?”
His mouth fell in a tight line. “Of course I would have told my cousin.”
She dropped her gaze and tried to pull away. “Then I was right to say nothing.”
But he wouldn't let her go. He held her wrist and took a step toward her, backing her against the wall, using his body to corner her. She'd started this≔ she would damn well finish it. “The hell you were. Where's that faith you mentioned? I would have protected you and your father, but you never gave me the opportunity.”
“How could you? You were just a bastard son. What could you have done against the Earl of Argyll and his powerful cronies?”
He flushed with anger, his teeth clenched. Just a bastard. It didn't matter that her words had not been said with scorn, the truth still pricked. “I wouldn't have turned your father over to my cousin to be killed. I would have gone to your father first, told him that his treachery had been discovered and given him the opportunity to get away before any damage had been done.”
Her eyes rounded with surprise, the dark velvety lashes sweeping like a raven's wing against the pale skin of her brow. “I never thought …” Her voice dropped off. But when she lifted her eyes to his again, he could see she didn't believe him. “‘Tis easy for you to say now. But I remember how you were then, a young, ambitious warrior trying to erase the stain of your birth. You were the quintessential chivalrous knight—all nobility and honor with little tolerance for deception or injustice. Letting my father go would have put you at odds with your clan. You would never have done anything to blacken your name.”
Fury cracked like a whip inside him, shattering whatever rein he'd had on his control. Chivalrous knight? God, it was laughable. Not with her. Never with her.
He leaned into her, her br**sts brushing against his chest, his skin crackled, the flames stoking hotter. It was all he could do not to slam her up against the wall and kiss her until the raging inferno inside him quieted. How did she still do this to him? Turn him into someone he didn't even recognize?
He heard her sharp intake of breath and saw the frantic pulse in her throat that echoed the beating of her heart. He slid his fingers around her neck, placing his thumb over the tiny flutter. He lowered his face to hers, forcing her to him. “Don't you understand? I loved you. I would have done anything for you. Anything. Honor? Duty? They meant nothing compared to you.”