Chapter 17
When she opened her eyes the next morning, it took Claire a few moments to realise where she was. When she realised that a strong, muscular arm was draped around her waist, everything came back to her in a rush.
She felt the warmth of Iain’s body on her back, his breath on her neck, and smelled the musk of his body, and she felt completely comfortable and utterly content.
Claire knew that she should have left hours ago, and that she would be in huge trouble if anyone found her, but she was determined to savour whatever time she had with Iain because it was so precious.
She turned in Iain’s arms and saw that he was awake and watching her with a gentle smile on his face, the face that had become so dear to her.
He leaned in to kiss her, a slow, tender kiss that made her want to give herself to him all over again, and Claire realised that she was never going to stop wanting him.
“Good morning, Claire,” he said, his voice still hoarse from sleep. “Did you sleep well?”
“Better than I have for ages,” she answered with a tender smile. She rubbed her hand down his cheek, loving the rasp of his new day’s whiskers under her palm. “And you?”
“Very well,” he replied, but Claire detected a certain sadness in his voice. “I wish you could stay right here all day. I’m sure we could find some way to pass the time.”
“My Laird!” Claire pretended to be outraged, and they both laughed, then she said regretfully, “So do I, but I cannot. I must go before I’m discovered.”
Reluctantly, she flipped the blankets off and stood up. Even though she kept her back to him, she knew he was watching her as she washed and dressed because she could feel his gaze on her as firmly as if it were the touch of his hand.
When Iain kissed Claire goodbye at the door to his bedroom that morning, he had no idea what the day would hold. He took her in his arms once more.
“Do you regret what happened between us last night, Claire?”
“Not a bit,” she replied firmly. “I have never felt so wonderful—so alive. Thank you for giving that to me, Iain.”
He kissed her forehead gently. “I’m so glad. I will try to always give you that feeling.” he promised, before opening the door for her to leave.
After she had gone, he put his hands over his face and growled out his frustration.
Why did I say that? he thought. That is a promise I won’t be able to keep. But, I need her so much…
Claire smiled at him as she slipped out of the door, surprised to see an expression of sadness on his handsome face.
“I’ll see you later,” she said huskily.
She left with great reluctance, then somehow managed to sneak out and go back to her own room. However, she had only been there a few moments when there was a loud knock at the door.
Frowning, Claire opened it to find Agnes standing there, looking frustrated and furious.
“I need tae ask for your help today,” she said irritably. “The Laird gave me permission. Some o’ the girls are sick an’ cannae work, an’ we are havin’ some important people comin’. I need everybody tae work—quick!”
“What is wrong with them?” Claire asked.
Agnes shrugged. “Spots,” she answered tersely. “The healer thinks it might be measles, but she isnae sure. Hurry up.”
She bustled away, leaving Claire to go and change into her old maid’s uniform. She was a little upset that Iain had sent her back to her old position again, but she supposed that they had to keep up the pretence that there was nothing going on between them.
And yet, there was because Claire realised that she loved Iain—not the way she had loved the boys she had had a crush on growing up, but truly, deeply, with her whole heart. He was everything to her, and she knew she would find it difficult, if not impossible, to leave him when the time came.
Could I stay? she thought suddenly. Could there be some kind of future for me here? Iain said he wanted to hold me forever. Did he really mean that? Could there be a wedding? Children? Lady Claire Ross? Is it possible?
Perhaps…
To shake those thoughts from her mind, Claire went out to join the others.
Once again she found herself armed with a scrubbing brush, attacking the floor of the Great Hall viciously with all the vigour she could muster, as if it were her enemy.
Her shoulders and arms soon began to protest, but she persevered, unwilling to show any weakness in front of the others.
Yet, as Claire bent to her task, her mind kept returning to Iain; to the first moment she had seen his magnificent naked body.
Even as she did her tedious work, she remembered the sensation of fullness when he entered her.
She felt once more the soaring feeling of fulfilment, the explosion of ecstasy, and the tenderness of the afterglow when they lay in each other’s arms, warm and sated.
If she told him how she felt, would he feel the same way? She thought about it for a long while before she decided to say nothing. It would be far better to wait for him to tell her what his feelings were. He had told her how much he wanted her, but that was not the same thing as love.
No, it would be better for her to wait, and if he never declared his love for her, she would still have her pride.
Suddenly, there was a commotion amongst the maids and everyone rushed around to pick up their brooms, cloths, and buckets.
Claire frowned, wondering what was happening.
She looked outside to see a huge carriage bearing a huge clan crest on the side.
At first, Claire ignored the arrival, going back to her task and daydreaming about Iain.
But of course, there was someone who was more than eager to tell her why it was there. Lorna was grinning from ear to ear as she said spitefully, “The new lady is here.”
“Who?” Claire was confused.
“The Laird’s bride, Lady Morag Cameron, Sassenach. I was told they would be gettin’ wed in two weeks, but I think she cannae wait tae get him intae her bed.”
She gave the others a lewd smile, and they all burst out laughing.
“Aye, well, I dinnae blame her!” one of the others said, winking.
This prompted a fresh, even louder gale of mirth, and Claire realised that she was the only one not joining in.
Claire felt as though she had been punched in the stomach. This could not be happening—but of course she knew that it was. What had she expected, after all? This woman was titled and wealthy, just as Iain was. Of course, he would marry her, he had a duty to his clan to fulfil.
Claire Tewsbury was a nobody, and worse than that, an English nobody. Giving him her virtue was not enough, she had nothing to offer. But why had he not told her about his betrothal?
Claire was unaware that her cleaning cloth had dropped from her hand and that the colour had drained from her face. The rest of the crowd were making their way out to see the carriage and its passengers, but one stayed behind; Lorna, who could not resist rubbing salt in Claire’s wound.
“Ye look like ye have seen a ghost, madam.” She stood in front of Claire, smiling at her with malicious glee. “Surely ye are no’ in love wi’ the Laird?”
Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, but for once, Claire hardly noticed. She followed the rest of the servants outside just in time to see Lady Cameron alighting from the carriage.
She was a tall, fair woman, not ravishingly beautiful, but not ugly either. From a distance, her eyes looked to be dark, and Claire could see that she was generously built, not fat, but not particularly slim.
The only word Claire could find to describe her was ordinary. If she had not been dressed so finely and fashionably, Claire would have walked past her on the street without noticing her.
But her heart broke as she saw Iain walking out to the carriage and bowing to her. He politely smiled and offered her his hand to help her down. He was dressed formally in his clan finery, looking as though he were going to attend an important event of some kind.
Claire looked on helplessly. She wanted to run to him and scream that she loved him, that he had no right to take this woman as his bride when he hardly knew her, but she could not.
Claire Tewsbury was a servant. Why should he even worry about her?
Claire stood watching Iain for a moment, and as he turned to lead Lady Morag into the castle, he caught her eye, and looked at her with an expression of…
desperation? He gave her an infinitesimal shake of his head before he dropped his gaze from hers and looked at Lady Morag as she said something to him. He smiled at her, but it looked forced.
Iain felt an ache of sorrow and regret pass through him as he saw the stricken expression on Claire’s face.
He had taken her maidenhead, and now he was letting her see him with another woman.
He felt as if he was the lowest specimen of mankind ever to walk the earth.
He had wanted to talk to her, explain why he was being forced to this betrothal against his will, but for some reason Morag was early, and he had not had the chance.
When he heard that his betrothed was coming to see him two days earlier than he had expected, and that some of the maids were sick, his first thought was for Claire.
Could this day get any worse? he asked himself.
After he looked Claire in the eye, he watched as she turned and ran away, then glanced again at the woman he was supposed to marry—the woman he would marry, very much against his will. He felt absolutely nothing for her.
Claire could not bear to watch any more, and ran to see Agnes, who was standing outside the sick room with the healer, asking about the maids. Evidently, they all had measles, but it was the least of her worries.
She waited until they had finished their conversation, then Agnes turned to her, a quizzical look on her face.
“Somethin’ ye want, Claire?” she asked, not unkindly.
“Yes, I wanted to know who the lady in the carriage is,” Claire replied.
She knew the answer to her question already, of course, but she needed confirmation from someone other than the woman she hated. However, she was unaware that she was twisting her hands together, and her face was a mask of distress and anxiety.
“Lady Morag Cameron,” Agnes replied. “The Laird’s betrothed. I dinnae think he is very happy about it, but the elders decided, an’ their word is law.”
She looked closely at Claire and saw the first tear leak from her eyes.
“Why dae ye want tae know?” Agnes asked, but Claire gave no answer because that was the moment she felt her heart shatter.
So that is why he was so angry, Claire thought.
She turned and ran down the corridor to her own chamber, then threw herself on the bed and wept till she had no tears left.
She remembered Iain taking her bleeding hand the first time she had hurt herself and promising that he would never harm her, but he had broken that promise, taken her virtue, then abandoned her for another woman.
Then she chided herself. Iain had not forced her to do anything.
Still, she had walked into his arms with her eyes open; she had known that the council were trying to force him into marriage, but he had been so angry about it that somehow Claire thought he might be able to resist them and marry a woman of his own choice.
I am such a fool, she thought. And he knew it, he could see a mile away that I was innocent and na?ve. He must have been congratulating himself that he found such a willing victim.
Yes, victim, for that was what she was—the victim of one man’s lust, and of the despicable pains of loving someone you can never have. Had he not said it was a long time since he had bedded a woman?
Yes, he had told her so in the moments after their lovemaking, when she was warm and satisfied, happier than she had ever been in her life. At that moment, she would have believed anything he told her.
Claire jumped up from her bed as a surge of fury overtook her.
I will not stay here to be treated like a pet animal he can summon and dismiss any time he likes, she thought.
I have a family I can go to. Why did I not do so before? Oh, yes, I thought I was in love with him.
She laughed out loud, a hard, cynical sound.
Well, my Laird, my na?veté has gone, and I will follow it.
Claire went to the cupboard beside her bed and pulled out the dresses she had been given as work clothes, then took off the one she was wearing, putting on the dress she had brought with her.
She gathered her few possessions and put them in her satchel, then counted out the coin she had earned since she came to Glengar Castle.
It was a pittance compared to what she owed, but it would have to do. Rose and her husband would make up the rest, she was sure.
Claire left her room, picking up the books she had borrowed from Iain’s library. She wanted to take absolutely nothing from this hateful place.