Chapter 13
Callan was acutely aware of her presence.
Nora was just a pace behind him. He kept glancing over his shoulder at her.
He noticed every stray strand of raven hair that fell upon her face and the delicate fingers that pushed them back.
He heard the sound of her footsteps upon the ground, the rustling of her clothes as she moved, thinking about the fabric so close to her skin.
How strange it was to be jealous of material.
It was the second time he’d been jealous that day.
Even though flirting with that rich fool was designed to humiliate Nora, Callan had suffered more for it.
To see her touching that man’s arm, looking at him with her blue doe eyes…
it caused something jagged to twist in his stomach.
It felt as though something was innately wrong with the world.
He tried to push the feelings away as much as he could.
Desire was only going to get in the way of his plans.
However, this seemed deeper than desire.
Desire was a burst of emotion that made him tremble but could flow out of his body and everything would return to a settled state.
This was different. A serpent crawled under his skin.
All of his senses kept turning towards her.
All his thoughts were infested by her. This was no passing fancy.
She was different from anyone he had ever met, and it wasn’t a case of pitying her either even though she had been through much, nor was it a way to strike at Laird MacPherson.
It was because she possessed the kind of steel that was all too rare in the world.
She was a survivor, even though she wasn’t fully aware of it.
Callan clenched his fists so hard he dug his nails into his palm. He thought pain would be the only way to distract himself from these complicated feelings. Part of him wanted to turn around there and then, throw her to the ground, and ravish her.
Would she push him away again?
Was it wrong that he wanted to test her resolve?
“Remember tae keep low,” he said, breaking the silence.
Nora checked herself and crouched down. Large bushes and shrubs obscured them.
“Is this another one of yer tricks? Are ye trying tae give me a bad back?”
“I’m trying tae make sure nae guards find us. Ye were the one who wanted tae learn tae be strong. If ye are nae interested in the lessons—”
“Lessons? Ye hae a strange way of teaching. The only reason ye hae for sending me tae that man was tae mock me.”
“It worked, did it nae? He stopped tormenting that merchant and he ran away humiliated. The merchant got more than a fair price for his grain in the end.”
“Aye, and I’m surprised ye dinnae keep any for yerself,” she muttered, turning her face away and wearing a look of disgust.
Callan curled his lip and rounded on her.
“Whatever ye think of me, lass, I am nae common thief. Ye hae seen where I live. Dae ye think I enjoy the riches?”
“I think ye enjoy causing trouble.”
“One man’s trouble is another man’s justice.”
Nora barked a laugh. “Is that how ye see yerself? As some crusader?”
“I think I hae helped many people in my time.”
“And how many hae ye hurt? Dae ye give any thought tae the people ye rob?”
“What? Guards and nobles? Och aye, I’m sure they’re really suffering from losing a wee bit of coin,” Callan rolled his eyes.
In times like these Nora showed how spoiled she was. Her eyes narrowed, and her voice lowered. She held her arms rigidly by her side.
“Ye hae nae idea. They are still people. They—”
Callan heard a sound. He pulled her close, put a hand over her mouth.
He could feel her lips brushing against his palm.
They were impossibly soft. He peered into the distance, looking for movement.
A shape moved through the trees. He relaxed when he saw it was a harmless foal.
Nora spluttered when he took his hand away.
“Will ye stop daeing that?” she scowled.
“The last time ye surprised me, and actually I believe ye owe me an apology for taking liberties with my virtue.” Callan arched his eyebrows and lifted his head.
Nora snorted, crossing her arms and turning her head in the motion of the sun’s journey across the sky.
“Virtue? I cannae believe ye hae any of that left, if ye hae any tae begin with.”
“How low ye think of me, lass. Hae ye forgotten all I hae done for ye?”
“Aye, robbed my carriage and killed the guard that was escorting me.”
“In self-defense!”
Nora flung her arms in the air and paced around in a circle. “This is impossible! I cannae bear tae be around ye one minute longer.”
“Then feel free tae wander, my lady, perhaps ye will find the next estate, or ye might run intae more guards who are gaeing tae show ye kindness, like the last lot,” he snapped, although when the echo of pain flickered upon her face he regretted his words.
Shadows formed beneath her eyes and her head dropped. Callan took a breath and reminded himself of the bigger picture. When he spoke again he was calmer.
“Speaking of guards, I’m surprised there are nae more looking for ye. I would hae thought the forest and roads would be crawling with them. Even if MacPherson is nae too bothered, surely yer brother would want tae find ye?” he asked.
Nora sighed. She tugged at her sleeves and then raised her head.
Her features were pinched. There was something staged about them, and Callan realized that she had formed a mask, hoping to hide whatever emotions she feared would betray her.
She licked her lips slowly and there was a wry look in her eyes.
He studied her keenly and he noticed how much she had changed since they had first met.
The brightness had dulled in her eyes somewhat.
A jaded tone had replaced the naivety as the truth of the world was revealed to her.
“I would nae expect such a thing. He probably assumes that I am Laird MacPherson’s problem now. Besides, he could nae afford tae fund a wide search, nor would he be inclined tae raise coin for it. He and I hae never been close. Hamish saw me as a rival.”
“A rival?”
“For our parents’ affection. I remember when we were young he used tae break things and blame them on me. He would pinch me when my parents were nae looking. He always used tae tell me that things were better before I came along and that I was a mistake and ruined everything.”
“What a charming lad,” Callan said quietly.
Nora chuckled dryly. There wasn’t any humor in her laugh.
“Aye, what he dinnae realize was that people dinnae like him because he was bitter and jealous. I tried tae be everything he was nae, and he hated that I dinnae respond in kind. The older he got, the more bitter he became, but he was the firstborn, and he was the son. His place in the family was assured. When our parents died and he became Laird… Well, I knew the thing he was looking forward tae most was getting rid of me. Finally, after all the years he could move me away. It just took a wee bit of time tae find the right husband, but more importantly, the right price.”
Callan had never met Hamish Sinclair, but he felt a deep hatred for the man given Nora’s description.
Perhaps that was another name to be added to his list of enmity.
To think that Nora could be reduced to a piece of property to trade…
it felt like blasphemy. The infinite well of her personality and feelings should never have been diminished, especially since it had sent her on a path to a marriage with a foul man who would never be able to appreciate her properly.
Callan pinched the bridge of his nose. It did do any good to think about these things. It wasn’t as though Nora’s opinion of him was going to improve when she realized what he was planning. However, for the time being he put that out of his mind.
“How did yer parents die?” he asked quietly, thinking it was only fair to learn about her tragedy given that she knew about his.
“I dinnae want tae talk about it,” Nora replied.
Her crossed arms tightened. Either she was trying to hold herself together, or she was trying to keep something inside.
Her head dropped again. Strands of hair formed a veil across her face and it took everything Callan had to resist brushing it aside.
There was pain in her voice, a pain Callan knew well.
It was the kind of pain that was a mocking companion at night.
It was the kind of pain that hunted you through the years, a relentless pursuer that might fall away for a while but would inevitably catch up.
It was the kind of pain that nestled like thorns under your skin, invisible, impossible to pry away.
It was the kind of pain that lasted a lifetime.
“Nora… tell me,” he said.
It wasn’t a demand, but a request. His voice was as soft as a whisper and when she looked up at him he hoped she realized that he was being sincere. Nora’s eyes glistened with tears, but there was grim determination in her gaze rather than pitiable sorrow.
“Bandits,” she said.
That single word held so much power. The air went still for a moment as suddenly so many things became clear.
The way she reacted towards him when she’d learned the truth.
In her eyes, he must have been the same as those who killed her parents.
But he wasn’t. He’d killed before, aye, but only when it was necessary, never for the joy of it.
He wasn’t a monster. He just had to make hard choices in a hard world.
“I’m sorry, lass.”