Chapter 20 #2
He tipped her chin in his strong fingers and forced her gaze back to his. “It’s their shame, not yours, Lizzie.” He pressed his lips on hers in a tender kiss. “Forget about it. That day was a long time ago and means nothing to us now.”
He was right. What happened then was the past and he was her future. The memory would always be a painful one, but now perhaps knowing his part would make it a little more bearable.
She covered her embarrassment with a wry smile and a self-deprecating attempt at humor.
“What must you have thought of me? I must have looked quite the pitiful sight.” She laughed self-consciously.
“Not exactly a good first impression. I can’t believe you would even want to try tricking me into marriage after that. I suppose you drew the short straw.”
The jest fell flat in a thud of uncomfortable silence.
She looked up at him expectantly, waiting for reassurance, surprised instead to see a flash of something akin to guilt.
Her poor attempt at eliciting a compliment had misfired—badly. The smile slid from her face and she stepped back, eyeing him uncertainly.
“It wasn’t like that,” he said an instant too late. “I’m the one lucky to have you, Lizzie. I never thought I could have a woman like you and jumped at the opportunity. I wouldn’t hear of it being anyone else.”
All of a sudden, the implication of what he’d seen—and then done—hit her with enough force to take her breath away.
He tried to pull her into his arms again, but she backed out of his reach.
“Patrick”—her eyes locked on his taking in every facet of his reaction—“did what you saw that day play a part in your decision to pursue me—to seduce me into marrying you?”
Her heart thumped wildly as she guessed the answer.
The look in his eyes said it all.
Please, anything but pity. Her insides curled. She wanted to crawl into a tight ball.
She took a step back, the burning in her chest excruciating. “God, it did,” she said, her voice hoarse with pain.
“It’s not what you are thinking,” he said fiercely.
He couldn’t imagine what she was thinking.
He’d probably never felt a moment of self-doubt or insecurity in his life.
Her eyes raked over his too perfect face, her heart straining to beat in her tight chest. Tears swam before her eyes.
“P-p-poor, pathetic Elizabeth Campbell.” She took a deep breath, forcing the stammer from her voice.
Could she be any more humiliated already?
“A plain girl with a stammer and three broken engagements would be grateful for the attention of any man, let alone a sinfully handsome one like yourself. Did you think me so desperate that I would fall at your feet?” The memories stabbed.
She would lap it up like a grateful pup.
And she had. She’d fallen right into his seductive trap.
But look at him—she’d never had a chance.
A sob tore from her chest. Eyes wide, she gazed up at him and asked in a tiny voice, “Did you laugh at me?”
He pulled her fiercely against him in a tight embrace, not letting her push him away.
“Never! Don’t ever think that. Aye, I admit I thought you might have been left vulnerable by what had happened, but that is not the reason I wanted to marry you.
I wanted you from the first moment I saw you, and it had nothing to do with pity. ”
She heard the vehemence and sincerity in his voice, but it couldn’t completely pierce the veil of hurt or repair the damage to her pride. Pride that had taken years to rebuild. “I’m to believe that?”
“It’s the truth.”
She wanted to believe him, and perhaps deep down she did, but she couldn’t get the images out of her head. Had they laughed at her? Made fun of her?
She cringed, unable to think about it. He’d thought her an easy mark—a scorned woman who’d be only too grateful for his attentions.
She’d thought she’d put that day behind her, but perhaps there was still a part of her that believed that her deep-rooted desire to fall in love made her susceptible to being taken advantage of—just as John had done.
“I don’t know which is worse,” she said miserably, “to be pursued for my land or for being an easy mark.”
But certainly not for me.
“Stop.” His expression was as hard as she’d ever seen it.
“I will not let you think that way. You are making more of this than there ever was. Even if I suspected you would be susceptible to seduction, I quickly learned that I was wrong. If anything, you had been made more wary by what had happened before. My motives for finding you again might have been ill conceived, but I’ll never be sorry that I did.
I wanted to marry you because I fell in love with you.
Not for your land, but for you.” His thumb swept over the curve of her cheek, wiping away a single tear.
He looked right into her eyes. “I love you, Elizabeth Campbell, with all my heart.”
For an instant, happiness broke through the pain. I love you. Words she’d dreamed of but never heard. Not until now. Why now? “You don’t need to say that just to make me feel better.”
His jaw flexed, and pride radiated from him. “I’ve never said those words to anyone before.” His penetrating gaze moved over her. “Nor do they come easy for me.”
Lizzie heard the censure in his voice and understood—he’d held himself apart for so long because of all that had been taken from him. Relinquishing that control over his emotions would have not come easily. Those words had cost him a lot. “I want to believe you.”
He took her chin in his hand and turned her face to his, his gaze tender and …
loving. “Then do. Does knowing I was there that day really change anything, Lizzie? However it started, I do love you. That isn’t a lie.
After all we’ve been through, all that we’ve shared, can you really doubt my feelings for you? ”
She looked up at him with watery eyes. Could she? She knew the answer in her heart.
A sound in the distance behind them, however, drew his immediate attention. He swore and grabbed her hand. “I will prove it to you if it takes me a lifetime, but the rest of this discussion will have to wait. They’re coming. We have to go. Quickly.”
She nodded, not wasting any time arguing, and ran. After a few minutes, an old stone church—now a kirk—came into view on the other side of a small hill. What looked to be a small waterfall ran alongside it. A large crowd of men and horses filled the yard.
Patrick turned to her with an encouraging smile. “Not much farther. My men—”
He stopped in his tracks and swore.
“What’s wrong?”
He turned to her, eyes blank. “Those aren’t my men.”
“Then who?” Her gaze shot back to the kirk, and she easily recognized the man who was mounting his horse, obviously intending to give them chase. “It’s Jamie!” Her heart gave an involuntary lift before she realized what it meant—if her brother was here, that meant Patrick’s men were not.
She put a restraining arm on Patrick when she recognized the man at Jamie’s side. Colin. Dear God. Patrick’s entire body went tight as a whip. His face contorted with hatred—and she knew that if he had the opportunity, he would kill Colin without a second thought.
She would never know what might have happened, because at that moment a hail of arrows flew from the trees behind them, one landing not three feet from where she was standing.
Patrick shouted a warning and pulled her around in front of him.
She felt the frantic pounding of his heart at her back. The arrow could have killed her.
She didn’t need to look to know that it had come from his brother.
They were trapped, literally caught in the middle between two worlds: hers before them and his behind.
With nowhere for them to go.
With only an instant to decide, Patrick knew he had no choice. Escape would be a long shot at best, and he would not risk Lizzie’s life—not again.
Even if it meant his own.
He started to walk forward, but she stopped him. “What are you doing? You can’t do this,” she begged, her eyes filling with fear. For him. “Colin … I don’t know what he’ll do. You have to try to get away.”
Patrick didn’t say anything, just kept pulling her forward. He wouldn’t leave her unprotected, not until she was safe with her brothers—not with Gregor within arrow’s shot.
“Patrick, please. Don’t do this. You need to run.”
Her cries tugged at his heart, but he let them wash over him.
The Campbells were mounted and riding toward them at full speed.
They broke off into two groups—the larger party led by Colin headed into the trees behind them after Gregor.
Jamie Campbell was riding right for him, his sword raised high above his head.
Patrick pulled his sword from the scabbard at his back and, ignoring her cries, pushed Lizzie out of the way.
He stood his ground … waiting.
It didn’t take long. Campbell’s face was filled with fury, but Patrick kept his eye on the blade. The sound of horses pounded in his ears. Almost there …
He braced himself but was still unprepared for the force of the blow. Jamie’s sword descended in a high arc, and Patrick raised his sword with both hands to block it. The pain shot right to his injured leg. He wobbled but recovered quickly.
Campbell dismounted, his sword lifted high above his head.
Patrick could hear Lizzie begging her brother to stop. She would have run between them, but thank God a few of her clansmen were holding her back.
Jamie fought with a vengeance—his rage his only weakness.
They exchanged blow after blow, and with each swing Patrick knew he was weakening.
He managed to land a blow on Jamie’s shoulder, and he heard Lizzie scream.
His gaze shot to her, and he knew he couldn’t do this.
Even if he could kill Jamie Campbell, he wouldn’t.
His blood pounded. Every instinct clamored against it. The rush of battle was still upon him. But he let it go.
He met Campbell’s gaze, and when the Enforcer swung his sword around and tried to use his elbow to knock Patrick to the ground, instead of evading the blow, he took it full force in the temple.
Lizzie’s scream rang in his ears as blackness crashed over him.