The Chief (Highland Guard #1)(40)

“I’d wager it’s been some time since someone stronger looked down on you. I may not be brave or courageous like you, but I would have taken his beating if it were only me. But I wouldn’t have been the only one to suffer by my refusal to do as he bid.”

“You were protecting your sister.” The realization effectively killed any anger and resentment he might have felt for the lass for her part in her father’s treachery. He could not blame her for defending her sister.

She gave a half smile. “I was scared, too. But what I said before about Beatrix is true—she was sick as a child and has never been strong.” He could hear her voice tighten with emotion. She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “I almost lost her last time. I couldn’t take the chance. I know it was wrong and a horrible thing to do—and I told him so. But at the time I thought there would be little harm—my father would discover us after a few minutes and try to force a betrothal, but you would never have to go through with it.”

He’d already guessed what she meant. “You planned to leave with your sister?”

She nodded, avoiding his gaze. “Yes.”

Until he’d taken her innocence and she’d changed her mind. It would have been the perfect solution. Even after what had happened, she still could have gone, so why hadn’t she? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He must have revealed more of his thoughts than he realized because she added shyly, “I’m not sure I’m suited to be a nun.”

The blush that stained her cheeks sent a bolt of heat to his groin. The knowledge that he might have awakened her passion—that she might have enjoyed the way he’d touched her—set his blood on fire.

She was an innocent maid, but what if she was as passionate as she looked? His balls tightened. Just thinking about all the erotic things he’d like to do to her made him wild with lust. If she actually did them …?

He promptly switched the subject. “That night when I found you wandering around alone and you wouldn’t tell me what you were about—it had something to do with your plan to flee to Iona, didn’t it?”

He’d made the connection earlier, when she admitted to being involved with her sister’s disappearance. He had to admit his initial impressions of the lass had not done her justice. What he’d ascribed to temerity and foolishness were actually the desperate acts of a girl trying to protect her sister. He liked that she’d taken action.

She nodded, shuddering at the memory. “I had gone to the village to arrange passage on the boat. I didn’t dare take anyone with me; if my father discovered what we planned I didn’t want anyone to be punished. It took longer than I expected. Women walk around freely in Touchfraser, servants even more so. I never realized something like that could happen in the middle of a crowded castle.”

She was not foolish, he realized, but sheltered. “It can happen anywhere,” he said flatly, not wanting her to think the ravishing of women was limited to the “barbarian” isles—although he did recognize that their way of life was rougher than in the Lowlands. “You will be quite safe at Dunvegan, but you must never leave the castle without a guard.” The thought of something happening to her … “Promise me,” he said vehemently—too vehemently.

Eyes wide, she nodded again. She’d mistaken the source of his anger. “I know you had no wish to marry me, and that because of my father’s trick you felt honor bound to do so, but I swear I will cause you no more trouble.” He wanted to laugh. If she only knew how impossible that was. But his amusement disappeared when she added, “I will try to please you.”

He stopped breathing, the soft entreaty sending dangerous images through his head. Like of her on her knees taking him deep in her mouth.

God, he could almost feel the hot stroke of her tongue. He was hard as a rock. The lass had no idea the havoc her innocent words had wracked on his baser desires. She would please him. Too well. But that was not what she meant.

“It had nothing to do with you,” he explained. “I simply did not think the alliance would benefit my clan.”

She looked confused. “But the Frasers are an old and powerful family.”

“Aye, an old and powerful Scot family.” He wondered how much she knew about her father’s plans. “I prefer to stay out of Scotland’s politics—and its wars.”

“But how can you? You are a Scot.”

“I’m an Islander,” he said, as if the distinction should be obvious.

“But a Scottish subject still.” She looked at him with growing horror. “Surely, you don’t support Edward?”

The famous patriotic Fraser blood clearly ran in her veins. “I support my clan. I do what’s best for them.”

He’d said all he intended to say on the matter, but then she surprised him. “And marrying me—a Fraser—would pit you against Edward if there is another rebellion.”

His gaze narrowed, and he lowered his voice. “What do you know of a rebellion?”

She immediately looked contrite, realizing that she should not speak of treason so freely. “Nothing. It’s just that my father makes no secret of his hatred for Edward, and because of Lamberton’s presence and how badly they wanted this alliance, I assumed they wanted your skills as a warrior for something.”