Chapter 15 #3
Jeannie gazed at him in stunned silence.
To think she’d been unable to sleep because she’d been warring with herself about what to do.
He’d saved her daughter’s life and quite possibly her own.
With all he’d done she couldn’t stand aside and allow him to hang.
But Dougall’s future hung in the balance.
She’d wanted to find a way to help him and protect her son at the same time.
Now here he was spying on her. He’d found the room. How could she be such a fool to allow herself to think that he’d changed? That he’d trusted her? Betrayal curdled in her stomach.
Her accusation hung in the cold night air. He didn’t deny it. Instead he held out a couple of papers in his hand, his eyes once again cold and unyielding. “How do you explain these?”
Not knowing what to expect, her fingers shook as she took the wrinkled parchment in her hand.
Her heart thumped when she realized one of the documents was the map he’d been accused of selling to her father. She flipped it around, read the note, and then the letter.
Saying nothing, she handed it back to him.
A cold chill swept across her skin. Dear God, what had her father done?
She’d wanted to think he hadn’t been involved, that the map had merely fallen into his hands.
Had Francis been involved, too? Even posing the question felt disloyal. “This proves nothing.”
His eyes flared dangerously. “It proves your husband was involved.”
“What it proves is that my father sent the map to my husband. We already knew my father sent it to the Gordons. It changes nothing. Francis had nothing to do with framing you for treason.” Did she say it for her benefit or for his?
And if Francis had been behind it, did it really change anything? He’d still protected her and her son.
Duncan’s eyes scanned her face. “What has he done to deserve such loyalty?”
She heard the raw emotion in his voice and had to turn away, lest she be tempted to tell him. Instead she turned his accusation back at him. “Why are you so quick to implicate Francis? My father even says the map came to him unexpectedly.”
“And how did it come to him?”
Her chest pinched. His question shouldn’t hurt so much. “I did not give it to him, if that’s what you mean.”
“Then who did?”
“Was there no one else with opportunity?”
“I removed my sporran twice. Once with you and once when I returned to my tent.”
“And you slept alone?”
He gave her a long look. “My father, brother, and a few of my father’s closest clansmen slept in the tent as well.”
“Yet you immediately assumed it was me?”
“Given your father’s actions that day, you were the most logical. But I did consider other possibilities.”
“And?”
He didn’t say anything.
“And I am still the most logical?”
He waited for a long moment. “I don’t want to think so.”
Her gaze met his. He was looking at her as if he wanted to believe her. “What do you think in here?” she asked, pointing to her chest.
He flexed his jaw. “I don’t.”
Because he thought his heart had led him astray.
When she didn’t say anything, he asked, “And what of the letter? Do you still deny your father was involved with what happened to me?”
Her gaze dropped to the floor. “He could have meant anything.” It rang false even to her own ears. Her father had been involved. She knew it as well as he did.
He held her gaze for a moment longer, as if waiting for her to reconsider. To make a different choice. To choose him.
God, how she wanted to. Standing this close to him, alone, feeling his strength surround her, she ached to touch him, to take refuge in the force of the connection between them.
Every instinct urged to throw herself in his arms, rest her cheek against his shoulder, breathe in the warm, spicy scent of him, and forget her troubles.
He would kiss her.
The memory of his mouth on hers was almost enough to throw caution to the wind.
She knew how it would feel. How he would taste.
How pleasure would crash over her like a wave, drowning out everything but sensation.
Her troubles would fade away like the mist upon the dawn.
For a moment. But, like the mist, when darkness came they would return.
She had to think with her head and not with her heart. The fact that he was here spying on her, accusing her, told her that she had been right not to trust him with her secret.
She would not deny that there was something between them.
That in the past few weeks she’d felt twinges of her former feelings for him.
That she’d found many new things to admire in the man he’d become.
That when he’d kissed her she’d felt more passion, more emotion, than she’d felt in ten years.
That even now, she feared he would pull her into his arms and she would be lost.
But though the old feelings were still there, so was the distrust. As much as her instincts urged her to throw caution to the wind, experience had taught her control. Duncan deserved to clear his name, she wanted him to, but she had to protect her son.
With what he’d found, Jeannie knew it was going to be harder and harder to do. She felt as if she were living in a house of cards and one by one Duncan was plucking them from under her.
He would never understand why she was doing this. To him, it would seem another betrayal. That she was siding with her father and husband against him even when she suspected their complicity in his downfall. She knew what she was sacrificing. But the thought of her son suffering for her mistakes …
If Duncan proved her husband complicit, at best her family would expect recrimination from Argyll. At worst, the king could refuse to grant her son sasine in his property. And if Duncan discovered the truth about Dougall’s birth …
The scandal, the repercussions could be horrible. She remembered how it had been when her mother had left. The stares, the whispering, the suddenly quiet rooms when she entered. Being rendered a bastard would be much worse. She couldn’t do that to her son.
Her decision must have shown on her face. She could feel Duncan pull away from her. Feel the tenuous connection that they’d established snap. His face shuttered. He took a step back and placed the map and letter in his sporran. “I’ll be leaving at daylight.” His voice was flat, emotionless.
Jeannie flinched. Leaving. Again. Pain wrapped around her like a vise. It shouldn’t hurt so much. She’d known it was coming. She’d made her choice, she’d have to live with the consequences. “I see.” She gazed up at him, her heart squeezing like a fist. “Where will you go?”
“To my brother. Jamie is Argyll’s closest advisor.”
She drew back in shock. He must be mad. Argyll’s enforcer was the most ruthless pursuer of outlaws in the Highlands. “He will toss you in the nearest dungeon and have a rope around your neck before you can blink.”
His eyes darkened. “He is also my brother and right now my best option. My only option. It is not without risk, but it’s a chance I’ll have to take.”
She wanted to argue. But he was right—where else could he turn?
He’d come to her and she’d turned him away.
But to go to Jamie Campbell … right into the heart of the dragon?
A dark ball of fear lodged in her chest like a rock—hard and unyielding.
Why did the idea of him putting himself in that kind of danger make her stomach churn?
Make it feel like the bottom of her heart had just dropped out?
“If it is mercy you seek, you will not find it with the enforcer.”
“It’s not mercy I seek, but justice,” he said flatly, his eyes as hard as steel.
“My brother will be as good a source as any.” The rebuke stung as it was meant to.
But how could she tell him that she wanted to help him, she just couldn’t.
“I will tell him what I’ve discovered and see if it will be enough to convince my cousin of my innocence. ”
She looked up at him, her heart in her throat, wishing there was more that she could say. “Will it be enough?”
He shrugged. “It would be better if I had a link to the gold.”
“Or to the person who stole the map,” she said softly.
He held her gaze. “Aye, or the person who stole the map.”
He might not fully trust her, but at least he was willing to acknowledge that it could have been someone else. He’d believed her guilty for a long time—not without reason—and she could not expect him to suddenly change his mind. Even if she wished it.
It seemed neither one of them was willing to take such a leap of faith. Following her heart had almost destroyed her—she could not do that to her son.
But she hoped Jamie Campbell helped—
Dear God. Why hadn’t she considered the possibility before?
Panic shot through her veins. She tried to keep her voice steady though every nerve ending in her body buzzed with alarm.
There was no reason to think … the Campbells had many castles.
But still her voice squeaked when she asked, “You are going to Ascog Castle?” Please, please, please say yes.
He gave her an odd look. “Nay. In my sister’s last missive Lizzie mentioned that Jamie and his new wife would be spending the winter at Castleswene.”
No! Dread settled over her. Dougall was at Castle swene.
Her heart pounded. Surely he could hear it?
The sound seemed to trumpet in her ears.
Despite the cold night air, sweat gathered on her brow and hands.
Duncan would see Dougall. Her fingers crushed the velvet of her dressing gown.
Every instinct clamored against the possibility. “I’ll go with you,” she blurted.
His eyes narrowed, her sudden change of heart having roused his suspicion. “Why would you want to do that?”
She didn’t know, but she had to do something. She might not be able prevent their paths from crossing, but perhaps she could distract him? All she knew was that she couldn’t stay here and just wait for disaster to strike.
She held her expression impassive, panic turning her to ice. “Traveling as one of my guardsmen, you are less likely to be discovered, and,” she continued offhandedly, “I should like to see my son. After what you’ve done for me and Ella, it’s the least I can do.” That much at least was true.
“And you care whether I am discovered?”
Her eyes locked on his. Her chest rose up to her throat. It hurt that he could think that of her, but what else could he think? “I’ve never wanted to see you hurt, Duncan,” she said quietly. “I’m only trying to protect my family. The same family you seem hell-bent on destroying.”
He gave her a long look, his penetrating blue gaze darkening to black. “Is that the real reason you wish to come, Jeannie? To prevent me from sullying your father’s and husband’s names?”
She flinched. It hadn’t been what she was thinking at all, but perhaps it was better if he thought so. Anything to keep him from guessing the truth: that the thought of him within a mile of their son drove nails of terror down her spine.
I would never allow a child of mine to go unclaimed. His words echoed in her head.
She lifted her chin, not denying his accusation. “Believe what you will, but I am going to Castleswene, whether you choose to ride with me or not.”