Highland Warrior (Campbell Trilogy #1)(45)
She made a sharp sound of derision. “What kind of choice is that when you hold everything that I want in the palm of your hand? Why are you doing this to me? Is it because of what happened before? Is this some kind of revenge? I dared to refuse the great Jamie Campbell, so now you will bend me to your will and humiliate me.”
“Is that what you really think? Is it so hard to believe that I want you?”
“No, that’s not hard to believe at all,” she said flatly. “But that does not require marriage. If that’s all you want
from me, then take—”
He grabbed her arm, his reaction instantaneous. “Don’t,” he said in a low voice. “Don’t say it.”
He was doing a horrible job of this. He dropped her arm and raked his hands through his hair. “That is not all that I want from you.” He’d never tried to explain himself to a woman before. He didn’t know how to describe what he was feeling. “I care for you.”
“If you care about me, then don’t do this.”
“It’s because I care about you that I am doing this.” To get Argyll to agree, he’d had to take surety—to assume personal responsibility—for the conduct of the Lamonts. If they broke the law, he would be the one held accountable. “I’m trying to help you. Can’t you see this is the best way to get your home back? And I can protect you.”
“I don’t need your protection.”
“Don’t you?”
She shook her head stubbornly. “No.”
Unable to resist, he reached down and stroked the gentle curve of her cheek with his finger. “Would marrying me really be so horrible?”
He felt her tremble, but she didn’t respond.
He held himself still, asking the question that he feared the most. “Is there someone else you wish to marry?” The very thought sliced like a dirk across his chest.
He felt her eyes on him, studying his face, as if she might have glimpsed a little of his torment. “I . . . ,” she started, then hesitated. “No. There is no one else.”
He took a step closer to her, looking down at the feathery fan of black lashes on her pale cheek. The faintest hint of a few new freckles dotted the top of her tiny upturned nose. He took a deep breath but didn’t touch her. “Give me a chance. I will do my best to make you happy.” It was as close to begging as he would ever come. Without thinking, he reached out and gently tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers sweeping the velvet of her cheek, startling them both with the tender touch.
After a moment he said, “You will consider my offer?”
She nodded.
She was wavering, but there was one more thing she had to know. He didn’t want anything between them. “You should know something before you make your decision.”
She tilted her head questioningly, caught by something in his voice. “What?”
“The man who led the attack against your father”—her eyes locked on his—“he’s my brother.”
“No!” But the cry strangled in her throat. The leader’s face came back to her. There had been something that reminded her of Jamie, and now she knew why. Her mouth soured. Dear God, his brother had killed her father.
Just when she wanted to think something between them might be possible . . .
“I’d not force you to accept him, but I thought you had a right to know. He didn’t know what you were to me—”
And what am I to you? But she couldn’t ask that. “And that is supposed to be an excuse?”
Jamie shook his head. “No. But it might have made a difference. I’ll leave you now. Send word to Dunoon when you have made your decision. Should you decide to accept, we can be married right away.”
“But the banns—”
“The banns have already been proclaimed.”
Caitrina felt the noose tightening around her throat. “You were so confident of my response, or was I even allowed to have one?”
“I only wanted to be prepared. I’d assumed you would be anxious to return to your home.”
“It’s gone. There’s nothing left.”
“It can be rebuilt.”
“Not everything,” she said quietly.
He gave her a long look that seemed to touch inside her. “I’m sorry for your loss, lass.”
He was. She could feel his sympathy and understanding, and for a moment she let it wrap around her and give her comfort. He would be a rock to lean on if she wanted him.
He lifted her chin. “You’re right; not everything can be rebuilt,” he admitted. “But we can try to build something new.”
It was an olive branch of sorts. One that she wasn’t ready to accept. “I don’t want something new”—you—“I want my family back.” She thought he flinched, but he covered it so quickly, she wondered if she’d only imagined it. “Don’t you understand? I can never replace them.”
“I’m not suggesting you try. But right now, I’m all you have.”
Caitrina watched the door close behind him, numb. He was gone. Tears burned in her throat. The decision was in her hands now.
She didn’t know what to do. She needed to think. After opening the door, she forced herself to walk steadily across the hall and outside, not daring to meet anyone’s eyes. Only when she reached the courtyard did she run.