The Knight (Highland Guard #7.5)(29)

But the look in her eyes stopped him cold. She looked so different. She’d lost so much weight, the lush curves he loved so much had all but disappeared. She looked achingly frail, like a strong wind might carry her away. Despite the sunny day, her cheeks were not rosy and tanned but pale and colorless. He could see the thin pink line of a scar on her brow, one on her temple, and another on her chin. The changes wrought by the accident were like a punch in the gut, and another stone set upon the pile of guilt crushing his chest.

I could have lost her. And just how close he’d come to that was staring right back at him.

But it wasn’t the physical changes that chilled every bone in his body. It was the blank look in her eyes and the indifference of her reaction. For the first time in his life, Joanna was staring at him without feeling, and it froze him. Hell, it terrified him. It made him realize that maybe she wasn’t going to be as ready to forgive him as he’d thought.

“Joanna?” her cousin asked hesitantly.

“It’s fine, Maggie. You can leave us. Lord Douglas won’t be here long.”

Lord Douglas? Christ, she’d never called him that in her life.

Her cousin left, and Joanna met his gaze again. “How did you find me?”

Not “I missed you,” not “thank God you are here,” just the cold, flat emotionless tone of a woman who hadn’t wanted to be found.

She really hadn’t wanted him to find her. He hadn’t actually believed that until now.

He shrugged. “It wasn’t too difficult.”

She held his gaze, challenging the lie. “Who did you threaten?”

He frowned. Is that really what she thought of him? “I didn’t threaten anyone. If you must know, it was your sister who told me.”

Joanna muttered a curse he’d never heard from her lips before. “I don’t need to ask which one. Constance has so many stars in her eyes where you are concerned, it probably didn’t take much effort on your part to wile it out of her.”

In the past he would have teased her that Constance wasn’t the only one, but he sensed the jest would not be welcome. He also sensed that it was no longer true. Joanna had always looked at him as if he were some kind of hero out of a bard’s tale. As if he could slay dragons, hang the moon, and out-duel Lancelot all at the same time. But she wasn’t looking at him that way now. The clear blue eyes stared at him with not a hint of starriness.

He’d hurt her far more than he realized and the knowledge weighed on him like a stone on his chest.

Though her gaze was no more welcoming than before, he took a few strides toward her until they were standing only a few feet apart. “I’m sorry, mo ghrá. I’m sorry for everything. The baby. God, the baby.” His voice broke. “I didn’t know. I should have been there with you. I would have been, if you’d told me.”

His words had no effect. She stared up at him, unmoved and seemingly uninterested. “Why would I do that? It was over.”

“I didn’t mean that. I was angry. You were forcing me to choose between you and my duty, and I reacted. Badly, I admit. But damn it, Jo, you had to know I didn’t mean it. I love you.”

He’d taken her arm without realizing it and tried to bring her closer to him, but she was as rigid as a pole of steel.

She turned her head away. “It makes no difference now.”

His heart picked up the beat, speeding to a frantic race. She was acting like she hated him. But that wasn’t possible. This was Jo—his Jo—she loved him. “Of course it makes a difference,” he said softly. “We need to talk about this, if we are going to get past it.”

“Get past it?” She stared at him and then did something so unexpected it shook him to the core. She burst into laughter. “Dear God, do you actually think you can tell me it’s over, leave for three months while I mourn the child you would have had the world call a bastard, and then come back as if nothing has changed? Everything has changed, James. I do not blame you for what happened any more than I blame myself. It was an accident. But it is done, and nothing can be done to change it back. You are too late. Whatever chance we might have had died along with our unborn child.”

He heard the words, but he didn’t want to hear what she was saying. He couldn’t be too late.

Despite the warmth of the day, his skin felt like ice. A shiver ran down his spine. He had to make her see reason. “You are overwrought—angry—God knows, you have every right to be. But don’t say something you don’t mean. You love me, Jo, and I love you. We will get through this together.”

She shook her head. “There is no ‘together,’ James. You and I were never meant to be, I see that now. You will always be an important part of my past, but that is where you will remain.”

“But damn it, Jo, you love me.”

“I did. Very much. Too much, as it turned out, for it did not allow me to see what was right in front of me. You and I wanted different things.”

James felt as if flames were roaring in his ears, in his chest, scorching like wildfire. “You don’t mean that.”

But she did. He could see it in her eyes. He’d killed the love she’d had for him as surely as if he’d stuck a dagger through her heart.

“You should go, James. You don’t belong here.”