The Hawk (Highland Guard #2)(95)

Though he knew he had no right—he hadn’t asked for her trust—he felt betrayed. “And when you found out the truth, Ellie—or should I say, Lady Elyne—why not then?”

She gazed at him in the moonlight, her face an oval alabaster mask. “I didn’t want it to end.”

The pleasure. Bloody hell. The bottom fell out of his stomach as the ramifications poured down on him. Not just the injury to his pride that the nursemaid he’d sought to grace with his name was one of the richest heiresses in the land, but exactly what he’d done. He’d deflowered Ulster’s daughter.

But not just Ulster’s daughter. He grabbed her by the arm, biting back his fury. “You’re Bruce’s sister!”

The man he owed loyalty to above all else.

She didn’t even bother to feign shame at the magnitude of her deceit, but held her head high. “By marriage, yes.”

“But Edward Bruce saw you that night. Why did he say nothing?”

“I’ve met him only once, at the wedding.” She laughed, though the harsh sound held no amusement. “Apparently, he did not remember me.”

Erik felt ill. The first time he’d debauched a maid and he had to pick one who was sacrosanct. His liege lord’s sister. Bruce might have turned to the Highland style of warfare, but the heart of a chivalrous knight still beat inside him. He would not forgive the insult—no matter what the circumstances.

It wasn’t just Bruce’s sense of honor that would be offended. There was every likelihood that Ulster would blame Bruce for Erik’s actions. It could drive a wedge between them. A wedge that might stop Ulster from looking the other way at Bruce’s activities. A wedge that could jeopardize the western trade routes and prevent Bruce from getting much-needed supplies.

If Ulster didn’t kill him, Bruce would.

His mission hadn’t included debauching virgins.

My God, it suddenly made sense. The reason the English hadn’t given up the way they usually did. His grip on her arm tightened, forcing her to look at him. “They weren’t chasing me, they were looking for you.” By taking her, he’d brought the full force of the English fleet down on him.

She looked surprised by the accusation—as if it had never occurred to her. Her brows wrinkled. “I never thought—” She stopped, and then shook her head. “My family didn’t know what had happened to me.”

His blood turned to ice. “Perhaps not at first, but they did after I sent the message.”

His misplaced gallantry and the urge to please her had led his enemies right to them.

Ellie’s stomach dropped. Was it possible the English had been searching for her on Spoon when his men had been captured and killed? “My lady. “ The soldier’s deference on the beach suddenly made sense. They’d been trying to protect her.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

He wouldn’t even look at her.

“We’ll be married as soon as I can secure a priest.”

Her heart stopped. Married. The word she’d longed to hear uttered coldly and without emotion. It was exactly what she’d feared, and why she hadn’t wanted to tell him her identity. Because she knew that the cursed nobility of his would rear its cruel head. She was Lady Elyne de Burgh, his king’s sister by marriage and daughter of one of the most powerful men in Christendom. He had no choice but to marry her.

It might be illogical, but she would not marry a man she loved. Not when the offer was motivated by duty and not emotion. Unrequited love held no illusions for her. She would not make her mother’s mistake and think she could make a man love her with the force of her own will.

Inside, Ellie felt like crumbling, crawling into a ball and sobbing her sorrow in a pathetic heap. But her pride wouldn’t let her. She was Lady Elyne de Burgh. He would never know how much he hurt her—or how hard it was for her to refuse him.

“That won’t be necessary,” she said with all the emotion of his “offer.”

His eyes were like slits. “Need I remind you exactly why it is necessary?”

She didn’t give him the satisfaction of flushing. She wasn’t ashamed of what they’d done, and he wasn’t going to make her be.

“I appreciate your gallant offer, but it isn’t necessary. I’m already betrothed.”

If Ellie thought she’d ever seen him angry, she was wrong. The change was so startling that she gasped and instinctively recoiled. In the semidarkness of the approaching dawn, his eyes turned pale blue and utterly cold, utterly merciless. The handsome Norseman had become the ruthless Viking.

He made a move toward her. For a moment she actually feared him.

She thought he might grab her, but he was perfectly still. Too still. She’d never realized how menacing still could be.

“Who?” The single word fell like an executioner’s axe.

An icy trickle slithered down her spine, but she refused to show her fear. “Sir Ralph de Monthermer.”

His eyes flared with dangerous intensity. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you, Lady Elyne? I heard of your engagement, though I admit I didn’t connect it with my abducted nursemaid and the new ‘earl’s‘ recent interest in a message from Dunaverty.”

Ellie paled. “He’s been looking for me?”

“Quite ardently, it appears.”