Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Iwas right. This man does have the power to hurt me, and now he has.
Could she willingly lay with Tearloch now?
The idea of it made her heart leap and her stomach turn simultaneously.
Judging just by the kisses he’d pressed to her neck, she believed he could light a fire that would consume her like a handful of dried leaves dropped into the flames.
There would be nothing left of her afterward.
Sitting upright on the blanket now, she wrapped her arms tightly around her knees and held her gown in place, as if Tearloch might return and try to rip it away.
The idea of Duncan coming to her bed, demanding payment, had frightened her. The thought of Tearloch doing the same made her chest hurt, made her angry and sad and lonely at the same time. That power he had to hurt her? She’d never considered how many times he could do so.
With her mind reeling, her body took over. And she ran.
In his fit of distemper, he should have known better than to go so far.
When he finally turned back, she’d already lured the horses closer.
Her own beast was still nervous and shied away, so she scrambled up onto his mount instead.
When she urged it away from the field, she turned to see how close he stood stock still, his arms crossed.
“Trust nothing he does,” she warned herself, then slapped her heels against the animal’s sides and urged it toward the road.
It had finally gotten up to a canter when a shrill whistle sliced the air.
The beast veered to the left and made a wide circle back to its master, happily lifting its feet, certain it knew where it was expected.
The arrogant man reluctantly held out his arms to help her down, then released her and gestured back toward the indentation in the meadow where the blanket waited. “I believe I will accept that payment now.”
His voice was gruff, not from his earlier emotions, but with distain. She knew it well. She and distain were old friends.
She shook her head just once. “After The MacPherson is dead.”
His jaw clenched and she could not stomach the look in his eyes, so she studied her filthy feet.
“I will take it now,” he growled. “If we reach Lochahearn before nightfall, ye may find someone else to hire.”
She could not imagine lying in his arms this way. She was so exhausted by all the betrayal—from him, from the other men, from her own body.
“I could not pay you now. May…mayhap when it is dark—”
“When it is dark, we will be home. I’ll take you now.”
And with that, he took the plaid from behind his own saddle and walked back to the spot where it had all begun. She stood frozen to the spot while he lifted both blankets and spread them out together.
He pulled her by the arm and stood until she knelt. He didn’t look like he wanted to do this any more than she did, so she tried to distract him. Surely, he would reconsider, given enough time.
“Has someone you loved ever died?” She could not call him by his name. Not now. Not when he was forcing her to do this. The quick look he gave her said he knew her game, but he knelt beside her anyway.
“Aye.”
“Then you understand.”
“Understand what?” he said absentmindedly while he reached for the ties to the side of her gown.
“Revenge.” It was hard to speak now. Breathing was difficult even though her clothing was loosening.
His fingers paused. Then his hands fell away from her.
“Aye. Revenge I understand. I had not thought of it. You believe this man is responsible somehow for your brother’s death, aye?”
“Aye. He is.”
“And you know this.” It was a statement of doubt. But why would he have reason to question her?
“Of course I know this. If he had left my brother with me, he would not have been where he was. He would not have sickened and died.”
“If that is true, then it is my fault my father died because I was not where he was, to fight at his side. My clan should rightfully hold me responsible for my father’s death.”
“It is not the same. You cannot be blamed when someone else was responsible.”
He mulled it over for a moment then his brows lifted a little. So did the corners of his mouth. “No. How silly of us both.”
She huffed. “MacPherson was responsible.”
“How so?”
Where had she gone wrong? He tugged on the lacings again, but she hardly noticed.
“I vowed to kill him if he didn’t return my brother to me. I vowed. Can a knight not understand a vow?”
That did it. His fingers released the ties again.
Thankfully, she had a second layer of clothing, so more time to convince him.
After that he probably wouldn’t see reason.
Fia said Peter always seemed to lose control when she had not much on.
Now Kenna wished she would have spied on them more instead of sneaking off to ride horses.
“Aye. I can,” he said begrudgingly. “And as soon as ye’ve finished speaking with the king, ye can decide whether or not ye wish to see The MacPherson killed. If ye still demand it, I vow it will be done.”
“If I still want it? You think I will change my mind.”
“I can hope.”
She couldn’t help smiling. “That does it, then. If there is a chance that I will not want him killed, then there is no reason to pay you now.” Given his current disdain for her, he should be as relieved as she.
“Aye. Ye should not pay me now,” he said, then whipped her gown up over her head and tossed it aside. “But we will make certain my men believe ye have.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but the words would not come. He wanted her humiliated. What irrevocable sin had she committed to earn such treatment?
She finally found enough breath for a single word. “Why?”
“I told ye. We shall arrive at Lochahearn come dark. I will not risk ye hiring some other man to do the job when I am bound to be distracted. And I tell ye now, braggin’ or not, The MacPherson cannae be killed save I will it so.
” He kicked his boots off, obviously pleased about working this all out to his satisfaction.
“And ye have all but admitted ye cannae be trusted.”
She started to protest again, but he did have a point.
“Lie down.”
She inhaled deeply, then shrugged. “I do not believe I can.” She folded her arms, both to show him she was still unwilling and to keep him from removing her shift.
“Ye will do it, or I shall help ye do it,” he warned.
“Why must I, if I all you need is for your men to believe you have. No one is here. Can you not lie to them? They will believe you.”
“I do not lie to my men.”
“That makes no sense. You will not lie to them, but you want them to believe a lie.”
“Aye. Ye’ve got it a’right. If they believe ye have paid me, I need not tell them otherwise.”
“And that is not lying?”
“No,” he said as he turned her shoulders and pressed them down to the plaid, then hovered over her. He didn’t move in to kiss her, but she was ready to fight him when he did.