The Hunter (Highland Guard #7)(89)

She stopped a few feet from him and he tried to breathe, but the air in his lungs seemed to have turned solid.

For the first time in his life, the hunter experienced what it was like to be caught. Like a deer in the bowman’s gaze, he couldn’t move.

He watched her gaze flicker back toward the darkened stalls, where their horse and a few other animals were housed, and then to the small corner where a comfortable-looking pallet had been laid out for his use. In addition to the brazier and the stool, there was a small table with an oil lamp. The smell was earthy from the peat rather than pungent, and the air was sultry and warm.

Coupled with the way she looked, it made him think of …

Hell, everything about her made him think of that. He was balancing on a sword’s edge. He clenched his fists, one hand balling around the bandage. “You need to leave, Janet, now. Whatever you have to say can wait until morning. This isn’t right. You shouldn’t be here with me alone like this. What if the Wallaces wake and notice you are gone?”

The fierceness of his tone didn’t seem to make any impression on her. She lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “We’ve been alone for almost two days. The Wallaces are fast asleep, and even if they do wake, I suspect they will know exactly where I have gone—Margaret especially.” She took another step toward him, and he had to force himself not to take a retreating step back. But his skin drew tight over his bones. His blood pounded through his veins, and his heart was hammering like a drum. “What I have to say is important and cannot wait.”

He frowned, a prickle of concern piercing through his anger at her invasion and the urgency to just get her the hell out of here. “Is something wrong?”

She shook her head.

“Then what is it?”

She bit her lip, as if she didn’t know what to say. Given that she always knew what to say, his concern grew.

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“About what?”

“I do not think that I wish to be a nun.”

Some of his anger returned. “And this is so important that you sneak out of your bed in the middle of the night to come to find me?”

She shot him a glare, her mouth pursing. “It means that in the right circumstances, I might consider marriage.”

He stilled. The air seemed to have left his lungs. Actually the air, the blood, the bones, and pretty much everything else seemed to have left him as well.

Was she trying to say that she would consider marrying him?

From the way she lowered her gaze and the soft pink blush on her cheeks, he suspected that was exactly what she meant.

Jesus! Though he was wearing only a tunic and a thin pair of wool breeches, he felt a sheen of sweat gathering on his brow. What the hell was he supposed to say?

“Janet, you know that the right circumstances will be decided by the king. If it is your wish to marry, Bruce will be the one to find a husband for you—a suitable husband.”

Her mouth tightened distastefully. “Robert isn’t like that. He will consider my wishes.”

Ewen swore under his breath. How could he tell her that “Robert” had already found a husband without considering her wishes at all? Not to mention that the king had warned Ewen to stay away from her.

He shuffled uncomfortably, suddenly feeling as if he were walking through a garden of Sutherland’s black powder bags—with sparks on his boots. “He will find you a husband who has more than a finger of land and a half-built castle.”

Rather than discourage her, his words seemed to embolden her. “But what if he could be persuaded? Don’t you see, I could help you. If you were to marry me, it would improve your position with Robert. He would be sure to return some of your land to you, and—”

“Stop!” He took her by the shoulders and shook her, not realizing what he was doing. “What you are saying is impossible. Damn it, do you ever hear the word ‘no’? It isn’t going to happen.”

She drew in a hard breath, staring at him with a hundred questions in her eyes. “Why not? I thought you …” Her eyes turned to his, tearing at him. “I thought you cared about me. Don’t you want me?”

Bloody hell! He let her go as suddenly as he’d grabbed her, not trusting himself. He wanted her with every fiber of his being. He wanted her so desperately, it took everything he had not to pull her into his arms right now. “It isn’t that simple, Janet.”

“Why not?”

The hurt in her voice nearly broke him. He knew there would be tears in her eyes if he looked, so instead he dragged his fingers through his hair and paced a few steps before the iron brazier. “It just isn’t.”

“But I love you.”

His feet stopped. His heart stopped. Everything seemed to stop. It took a few moments for the words to sink in. For one instant he felt a burst of something akin to pure happiness—happiness like he’d never experienced before. But then it was tamped down under the bitter weight of duty and loyalty. People were counting on him, damn it. She belonged to another man.

He wasn’t going to be like his father, even if it bloody killed him. He would not do this. Discipline.

He turned and forced himself to look at her, every muscle in his body drawn as tight as a bow. His jaw was clenched, his fists were tight, and the pain in his chest doused whatever he’d been feeling in his leg.