Chapter 4
Chapter four
EWEN
Ewen followed his man from the great hall, his head full of the girl he had been dreaming of for ten years.
Elspit had grown into an even more beautiful woman, and although outwardly she was cool and detached, he did not believe for a moment that the girl he had loved was not still there inside her.
Behind her wary eyes she had been unable to disguise her lust for him, try though she might.
He had felt enormous satisfaction in seeing Elspit walking toward him in the great hall. Mine! A voice in his head had roared. At last! And then instead of smiling with love and relief, instead of clasping her arms about him, she had asked him for permission to go north to another man.
It wasn’t going to happen.
That proud and beautiful face, the way she held herself, as if she was afraid she might break.
He’d felt a fresh wave of fury wash through him.
He had been dreaming of her throwing herself into his arms but he knew now she would not allow him to see her vulnerability.
The years apart had not been congenial for either of them, but although Ewen had spent them working toward a happy ending, Elspit had been wed to a man she did not love and forced to live in Castle Tighe and witness her father’s increasing appetite for viciousness.
He should feel sympathy for her but instead he was angry. Full of rage. Rage at himself and her father and the circumstances that meant he could not be the champion for her that he had longed to be.
And then he had made his demand and, as he leaned in close to her, smelling her skin, tasting it, her breath had hitched.
He’d caught the scent of her, and his hands ached to touch her.
His mouth wanted to trace her every curve, and his cock grew hard and heavy with the need to push deep inside her.
He had come to claim her and she knew it now, just as he knew with deep satisfaction that whatever changes had occurred in their years apart, she wanted him too.
She wanted him too.
But she also wanted to set off for another man immediately afterwards.
Shards of pain pierced his chest, dug into his heart until the blood ran freely. Was his long wait, was his sacrifice, all for nothing?
“Here, my lord.”
The voice interrupted his unhappy thoughts and he forced himself back to the present.
His man had brought him to the castle wall and now they both surveyed their grim discovery.
Heads upon pikes. They were a grisly sight, the faces unrecognisable, but he had heard of neighbours being kidnapped and lands stolen.
Elspit’s father had much to be sorry for, and Ewen would see that he was.
“We will look over the barracks while I am here,” he said. “And the armoury. I want to be ready if there is any retaliation from Tighe’s friends.”
The man smirked. “I doubt he has any friends left,” he said. “There will be rejoicing, my lord, now you are here.”
Ewen grunted. It would be pleasant if his arrival was greeted with genuine relief and celebration, but he was used to the clan ways. Allegiances went deep, and even those who might hate Tighe would still feel the need to avenge him simply because it was ingrained in their blood and bone.
All the same he was confident of eventually winning most of them over.
He might have to break a few heads and make a few threats, but in time they would come around to accepting his rule.
Ewen considered his situation as he descended the stone stairs.
He had grown into a good and fair leader during his service with the duke.
His own men were loyal; they trusted him and would follow wherever he led.
Once he was married he could claim the right to be master of Castle Tighe and not many would deny him.
For ten years he had dealt with his sense of failure when he left Elspit behind. For ten years he had waited for his chance to return and make good on his promise, rescue her like the hero he wanted to be, and claim her heart and body. And now she wanted to leave him.
Well, he was going to remind her of what they had meant to each other.
He was going to show her that their passion hadn’t faded, and in fact had only grown stronger—on his part anyway.
Maybe he was arrogant but he believed he could reach her through his mouth and his hands, and rediscover what they had lost. He could change her mind about leaving him for some northern lord.
Finished his inspection, Ewen made his way back to the great hall. It was still noisy with celebration and merriment—he had promised his men one night of carousing before they must return to duty. Ewen even thought about joining them in an ale or two, but only for a moment.
Elspit will be waiting.
His body tightened, his heart began a slow, heavy beat.
These were sensations he had not felt in a very long time.
During the ten years apart there had been many willing women and he had found what pleasure he could with them, but this was different.
Finally he was going to bed the one woman he had craved since he was a boy.
And yet he had doubts. Although Ewen was always kind to the women who came to him for his pleasure, he had seen many other men who were brutal in their treatment of those they considered less important than themselves.
His father, Hamish Campbell, had brought Ewen and his brothers to manhood with the staunch belief that they must treat women with honour.
Now he wondered as he had a thousand times before …
Had Elspit been forced when she wed her husband?
The visions of her being dragged to the altar had plagued him night after night when he left, until he shut them out as a matter of survival.
If he hadn’t he would have ridden back to Tighe and got himself killed.
There had been one memorable night when he was mounted and ready to go before his father and brothers dragged him from the saddle.
They had spent the remainder of the dark hours talking sense into him, with the help of a bottle of whiskey.
Your time will come, they had told him over and over again until he was forced to believe it. And now, finally, that time was here. But was the Elspit waiting for him in her room the same Elspit as he had left behind?