Highland Warrior (Campbell Trilogy #1)(48)
Earlier when she’d first entered the chapel, he’d felt a twinge of uncertainty, seeing her wide blue eyes and pale, creamy skin. She’d looked so nervous—more fragile than he’d ever seen her. He’d tried to reassure her. Initially it had appeared to help, but it hadn’t lasted. What he really wanted to do was touch her—to hold her in his arms and calm her fears—but he knew any attempt to do so would likely make it worse.
How could he prove to her that he was not a monster—that he wanted to protect, not harm her? It would take time and patience, he realized. Suddenly, it occurred to him that he would have to woo his bride. It was ironic: He’d never been in the position of having to woo a woman, let alone one who was his wife. He couldn’t understand why he would be willing to go through the effort, except that he was. He could have just walked away, as she’d asked. Maybe he should have.
No. Whatever it took, he would make her happy.
He studied her over his goblet. The longer he looked at her, the more moved he was by her beauty. The plain clothing she’d chosen only seemed to emphasize rather than dull
her radiance, as she’d probably intended. But there was nothing she could do to obscure her striking coloring—the flawless pale skin, deep red lips, dark blue eyes, and jet black hair.
Nor was there any denying the perfect symmetry of her features. Even in profile he could see the high curve of her cheek, the lush fullness of her lips, the feathery softness of her lashes, and the gentle slope of her tilted nose. But her true beauty seemed to come from within. It was the fire of her spirit that had always drawn him. The passionate, brazen girl with the flashing eyes that challenged him like no other. A woman who rose from the ashes of destruction ready to fight for her clan.
She must have felt his study, for he detected the faint pink edge of a blush crawling up her cheeks.
She turned to him, her eyes meeting his for the first time since that morning. “It’s rude to stare.”
Jamie smiled, irrationally pleased that she’d not lost her bold tongue. Her somber air had worried him more than he’d realized. He lifted a brow. “Was I staring?”
“You were.”
He shrugged, unrepentant. “You are very beautiful.”
The compliment bounced off her. “And a beautiful wife is important to you?”
He smiled. “It certainly doesn’t hurt.” His finger traced the rim of his goblet; he knew what she was getting at. “But if you are suggesting that it is only your beauty which drew me to you, then you are very wrong. I’ve known many beautiful women.”
She wanted to ignore him, but curiosity apparently got the better of her. “Then why?”
He paused, searching for the right words. “You intrigue me with your boldness and spirit. I’ve never met a woman like you.”
“You mean if I had been biddable and shy, I wouldn’t have interested you?”
She looked so disgusted, he had to chuckle. “Probably. Perhaps you should give it a try.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Ha! It won’t work. You can be sure that you have found yourself a shrew for wife. You are worse than my broth—” She stopped, eyes wide, stricken by what she’d been about to say.
He caught her hand in his, pleased when she did not pull it away. “Your brothers used to tease you?” he asked gently.
She nodded, her eyes swimming with anguish.
His heart went out to her; he couldn’t imagine what it must be like to lose one’s entire family in a single day. That she had not succumbed to grief was testament enough to her strength. “You must miss them very much.”
“I do,” she said softly.
He would give anything to return them to her, but that was one thing he could not do. “I wish Lizzie had been here today. I’d like you to meet her.”
“Your sister?”
He nodded.
“Where is she?”
“At Castle Campbell.” His face darkened. “I thought it too soon, that she would be safer in the Lowlands.” At her questioning glance, he explained. “When I returned to Dunoon after leaving Ascog, I discovered that Lizzie, who’d been due to arrive before me, had yet to arrive. I immediately left for Castle Campbell and discovered that the MacGregors attempted to kidnap her—to use her against me.”
Caitrina gasped, not hiding her shock. “That’s horrible. She must have been terrified.”
Jamie frowned. She should have been, but strangely enough, his sister had proved surprisingly unaffected. It seemed odd, but he hadn’t had time to contemplate it because his guardsman had arrived with news of the MacGregors at Ascog. “She was lucky. There were a group of men in the area who drove off the outlaws and foiled the attempt. Lizzie was scared, but unhurt.”
Caitrina was silent for a moment. “This is the matter you were tending to when your brother and his men came to Ascog?”
He looked into her eyes. “Yes. It was only because the guardsman who delivered the message to my brother decided to track me to Castle Campbell that I was aware of what was happening at all. I only wish it had been sooner.” “So do I,” she said softly, dropping her gaze.
He looked at her bent head, her silky hair like polished black ebony glistening in the candlelight. He wanted to tuck her head under his chin and tell her everything was going to be all right, but he knew, for her, it wouldn’t be. Nothing could change that day and bring back her family. Nor could he change his clan’s part in their death. But he could give her back her home—and if she let him, a new family.