Highland Warrior (Campbell Trilogy #1)(93)
Knowing he would not allow her to go otherwise, she agreed—albeit reluctantly. “What about your brother?” she asked.
“He rode out a short while ago. Let’s hope in the wrong direction.”
“Then we’d best not waste any time.” She strode to the ambry and pulled out a heavy wool cloak to wear over her arisaidh. Tossing it around her shoulders, she hurried to the door that Jamie was holding open.
They were standing so close, yet the distance between them had never felt greater. For a moment, it seemed time stood still. They stood at the door, eyes locked in a silent struggle. She wanted to lift up on her toes and give him a kiss, to throw herself into his embrace and feel a moment of comfort—the knowledge that everything was going to be all right. That together they would get through this.
If only she could be sure.
To Jamie there was right and there was wrong, and by lying to him, she had betrayed him—or so he thought. He didn’t see that she hadn’t had a choice. Nor had he believed her declaration of love. Once her brothers were safe, she swore she would do whatever it took to convince him that she’d spoken in earnest.
Finally, he dropped his gaze and stepped through the doorway, allowing her to cross. Inexplicably disappointed, she started down the hall.
“Caitrina.”
His voice stopped her in her tracks. She turned, seeing him still standing outside their chamber, watching her. “Yes?”
His eyes pinned her, hard and unyielding. “Don’t ever lie to me again.”
Though it was only late afternoon, twilight fell like a black curtain through the trees. With winter coming on strong, the days had shortened considerably. But in the dense forest, where it was difficult for light to penetrate in the best of circumstances, there was an eerie, unsettled feeling floating through the ghostly mist. Many Highlanders avoided the hills and forests, believing them to be the mystical domain of fairies.
It wasn’t fairies that worried Jamie, but his wife.
Caitrina had led them to a tree-lined ridge opposite the cave. From here, they had a good view of the surrounding hillside but were far enough away to avoid detection by the Lamonts. Jamie scanned the trees, seeing the remaining two Lamont sentries posted beyond the entrance to the cave. They’d already captured the man who served as the perimeter warning, and Jamie’s men had circled around to take the two others—waiting only for his signal to do so.
He’d promised to give her a few moments alone with her brothers to explain, but something didn’t feel right. He should never have allowed her to come, but he’d seen the determination on her face and understood the source. Hell, he admired her for it. It wouldn’t be easy to face her brothers’ wrath.
Just as it hadn’t been easy for her to face his. He’d been furious and frustrated, but most of all betrayed. For two days, he’d ridden nonstop across Cowal and Argyll, searching for any sign of her clansmen, hoping to prevent disaster. News of the attack on his brother had reached him in Dumbarton west of Loch Lomond, and suspecting those responsible, he’d ridden hell-bent for leather back to Rothesay. Finding Colin here had only made matters worse. His brother would demand retribution and wouldn’t be happy to see the Lamonts spared. But Jamie had no doubt his cousin would keep his word—whatever Colin’s demands.
And the whole time he’d been searching, trying to avoid this very scenario, his wife had been lying to him.
It wasn’t simply the fact that she’d kept it a secret from him that stung, but that she could keep from him something that gave her such happiness. He’d hoped someday to garner that kind of loyalty from her, but the chance for that seemed to be slipping away.
He wanted to understand, but he couldn’t escape the knowledge that ultimately she hadn’t trusted him enough. Some part of her had believed what her brothers claimed about him. Jamie might want to toss Niall Lamont and the other guardsmen in the dungeon, to keep them out of trouble, but he would never do anything to hurt Caitrina. He’d thought that she’d understood that. And how could she ever think he would harm a child? Brian was barely old enough to hold a sword, let alone die by one.
When they’d married he’d made a vow—the Lamonts were his responsibility—his people as much as hers. But she still saw him as an outsider. Now that she had her brothers back, maybe she no longer needed—or wanted—him.
Despite his anger, his heart had tugged when she’d said she loved him. He’d wanted to believe it. For a moment something cracked in his chest, and it felt as though light were pouring in. But he knew she’d say just about anything to save her brothers, and he couldn’t help but doubt her sincerity. Love meant trust, and her actions had said otherwise.
The hair at the back of his neck rose, and his skin prickled. He had the distinct feeling that he was being watched. Not wanting to take the chance that the Lamont guardsmen would alert them to their presence, he motioned to his men to take the remaining sentries stationed in the forest. Peering through the darkness, he could just make out the odd-shaped shadows behind the trees to his left.
“I know you’re there, Colin,” he said softly. “You might as well show yourself.”
His brother stepped out from behind a tree about twenty feet away. “You’ve always had the most uncanny ability to sense danger.”
Jamie quirked a brow, not missing his brother’s choice of words. “Am I in danger, brother?”