The Hunter (Highland Guard #7)(95)

“Walter Stewart.” The blow took every last bit of air from her chest. Of course! Ewen had let his name slip once. Now she understood the significance. She wanted to laugh, but feared she would cry. Walter Stewart was barely old enough to have earned his spurs. “My liege lord, and the son of the man I owe everything to,” he added.

She might have tried to understand his guilt, the depths of the dishonor he must be feeling for his disloyalty and broken trust, but she was too wrapped up in her own pain and broken trust. She stared at his face, searching for something to hold on to. Something to change the inevitable conclusion staring down at her.

She looked away, turning her gaze to her bare toes. At some point she must have kicked off her boots. A sharp pang sliced through her heart. Was it only minutes ago that she thought he was the one for her? “You did not tell me.”

It wasn’t a question. She didn’t care about his reasons why, but he told her anyway. “The king suspected you would not be as … uh, amenable to returning if you knew.”

The shock was beginning to fade, and anger surged inside her. She looked back up at him, her mouth twisted in a sneer. “How well he knows me. And you went along with it, of course. It was probably easier for you. ‘Not your battle,’ isn’t that what you said? Why should you get involved?”

His mouth thinned at her sarcasm. “By time I realized I was involved it, was too late. I knew you’d be angry, and I know it’s no excuse, but at the time I was more worried about keeping us both alive.”

His admission that he was involved was also too late—and too little.

“You could have told me tonight. You should have told me tonight.”

“Aye, well I didn’t exactly intend for this to happen. I thought it would be easier if the king explained. I thought it would make our parting less … complicated.”

“If I hated you?”

He stared at her, unblinking.

Dear God! The color washed from her face; that was exactly what he thought. He would have just handed her over to another man and not looked back. Her heart shattered like glass thrown upon the floor. He might as well have done exactly that to it.

Suddenly another truth hit her. Another betrayal. “This is not a temporary stay in Scotland. The king has no intention of letting me return to Roxburgh, does he?”

He didn’t shirk from the cold accusation in her gaze. “He does not.”

“But you let me think I might persuade him. You knew how important this was to me, and still let me believe I would be returning!”

She saw him flinch, but his guilt wasn’t good enough.

He shrugged his shoulders. His naked shoulders that even now taunted her with memories. She could see the tiny imprints of her nails. Proof of her stupidity.

“It seemed easier at the time. I thought you might refuse to go, and I didn’t want to have to go chasing after you again. What you were doing was dangerous—”

“And, of course, it couldn’t be as important as what you are doing.”

She thought he couldn’t hurt her any more than he had by lying to her. She was wrong. He never believed in me at all.

She might have tried to understand his attempt to avoid conflict, but not the lack of regard for her. He’d known how much what she was doing meant to her, and in humoring her, in letting her believe her mission was only being delayed, he’d shown just how little he valued her. How little he thought of her. He would never give her what she wanted from a husband.

She stood to leave, but he caught her arm, stopping her. “Just because you can talk your way out of a situation doesn’t mean you should. You are overconfident to the point of recklessness. With what happened with the priest in Roxburgh … It was only a matter of time before you were discovered. I’m not going to apologize for not wanting to see you in danger.”

“How about for lying to me?” And making me love you?

His eyes softened. But she felt strangely indifferent to it. An hour ago, she might have seen it as a sign of feeling. Now, she knew better. “I’m deeply sorry for that. I was just trying to do my job.”

A sharp scoffing sound erupted from her tightly wound chest. “And the mission always comes first, isn’t that right?” He didn’t say anything. She looked at his handsome face, seeing the silent plea for understanding. Part of her wanted to give it to him. Part of her wanted to think there was still some way this wouldn’t end up so horribly. “And what now, Ewen? What happens to your mission now?”

Surely she couldn’t have been so wrong. He didn’t deserve a choice, but she was going to give him one.

Ewen had bungled this badly. Which was exactly the reason he’d wanted to avoid it. He couldn’t stand the way she was looking at him. Seeing the shattered trust in her eyes. The betrayal. The broken heart.

It tore at him.

He didn’t want to lose her. But what the hell could he do? He would try his damnedest to make it right, to salvage what he could of his honor and his place in Bruce’s army, but he held no illusions.

“I will explain everything to Bruce when we return. If he agrees, we will be married as soon as the banns are read.”

She stared at him, forcing his gaze to meet hers. “You don’t really think you can get him to agree?”

He didn’t think there was a chance in hell. His jaw clenched. “I thought you were confident you could persuade him?”