The Knight (Highland Guard #7.5)(21)

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have trusted you.”

The fact that she hadn’t stung. He’d always taken her trust in him for granted. “I have to go, Jo. We’ll speak of this later.”

“You were going to leave without saying good-bye?”

“There wasn’t time. I won’t be long.”

“But I told you there was something I needed to tell you. If it were just me… but it’s not.” She drew a deep breath and looked at him with something akin to desperation in her gaze. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I was surprised, that’s all. I thought we both wanted the same thing. I shouldn’t have given you an ultimatum.”

Thank God! Relief poured through him. He didn’t realize how much the situation with Jo had been weighing on him until it was gone. He felt like a boulder had been lifted off his chest.

A smile cracked to the surface. The need to touch her was so overwhelming, he barely remembered to pull her deeper into the stairwell—away from curious eyes—before his mouth fell on hers. Although he’d meant it to be a gentle, tender kiss, to show her exactly how much she meant to him, as always seemed to happen the moment their lips touched, something came over him. Something hot and powerful and demanding. A need so intense, he drew back before he found himself swiving her in the stairwell.

Despite the brevity of the kiss, his breathing was still heavy. “I’m so glad you reconsidered.” He drew the back of his finger along her cheek softly. “I promise I will do everything in my power to make you happy.”

Instantly, the haze of the kiss cleared from her eyes. She drew back. “No, James, you misunderstand. I have not reconsidered. Under no circumstances will I be your leman.”

Anger surged through him again, the sharp disappointment on the heels of relief almost making it worse. Why the hell was she being so stubborn? She was supposed to love him, damn it. Not issue ultimatums and make threats. “So I either marry you or it’s over, is that it?”

She bit her lip, hands twisting nervously in her skirts. “Yes, but you should know—”

He didn’t let her finish. He was too damned furious. She wasn’t the only one who could make threats. “Very well, if that’s what you want, consider it over.”

Her eyes widened in shock. She looked like he’d kicked her in the gut. He had to force himself not to reach for her. But he wouldn’t let her use the feelings he had for her against him. He had to stay strong to his purpose.

“You don’t mean that.”

“It’s the last thing I want. It’s you who are doing this, Jo. This is your choice, remember that.”

And before he could take the words back, he spun on his heel and left her standing there.

His chest was on fire. Every instinct clamored to go back—to tell her he didn’t mean it—but he forced his feet forward. She had to learn that she couldn’t threaten and manipulate him into doing her bidding. He loved her, but he couldn’t marry her. She needed to accept that—and what it meant. This was what it would be like. But he felt like he was on the rack and having his limbs slowly torn from his body. If it was hurting her half as much as it was hurting him, she would be ready to jump into his arms when he returned in a few days. It wouldn’t be long. Just long enough for her to realize he meant what he said.

But he felt a vague uneasiness start to grow. He looked back, and his heart lurched. She looked destroyed—and oddly desperate. She’d wanted to tell him something, he remembered. The vague uneasiness turned to full-fledged trepidation. Something was wrong. He couldn’t leave her like this.

He would have gone back to her, but Randolph stopped him. Randolph, who reminded him of everything he was fighting for. Greatness. Restoration of the family honor. His father.

“Who was that woman?” he asked.

“No one,” James said.

“She sure looked like someone.” Randolph gave him a shrewd look. “Have a care, Douglas. My uncle has big plans for you.”

James’s mouth hardened. He didn’t need Randolph to warn him. “She’s only the marshal’s daughter. A lass I’ve known since I was a child. It’s nothing.”

The words tasted like acid in his mouth. His stomach churned uneasily and he felt like some kind of Peter. He needed to get the hell out of there.

No one. Nothing.

Joanna slumped against the wall of the stairwell in stunned disbelief. If she hadn’t heard him speak the words herself, she never would have believed it. He’d dismissed her as unimportant, refusing to acknowledge her and who she was to him. She was just the marshal’s daughter. Someone beneath him. Someone not worth acknowledging. Someone who didn’t matter.

Never had she felt the differences in their rank as sharply as she did at this moment. She’d been naive; she could see that now. She’d been deceived by the friendship they’d held for so long, by passion, by love.

Her chest felt like someone was standing on it. She couldn’t breathe as the ragged blade of disappointment pressed down on her, crushing in its intensity. This was how it would feel to be his leman. She would be by his side but remain unacknowledged—unworthy and relegated to the shadows.

If she hadn’t been certain before, she was now: She would never accept a life like that for herself or for her child.