Chapter Sixteen
He was tiring when he caught up with her.
Logan spied her perched on a rock, resting it seemed, her back to him.
It had taken him two hours to catch up with her and he’d sprinted most of the way.
She must have been walking slowly and likely stopped to shelter while it was dark.
A wise move with wolves around but there was risk in that too. She was still too close to Kilcree.
He paused and drew in a breath before continuing up the hill.
Foolish woman could be spotted from miles around.
Her golden hair and blue gown stood out against the yellow and green hills.
He squeezed his clammy palms together and told himself to keep moving.
How would she greet him? With disgust? Delight?
He would not blame her for the former. Who knew how he’d make up for his barbaric behaviour?
Far off, a sound carried in the wind. He turned in the direction of the noise. “Hell fire.” Gillean’s riders. They’d spot her with ease once they reached the valley beneath.
He raced up the hill, his legs burning in protest and pulled her from the rock as the men entered the valley.
When he grabbed her and clapped a hand over her mouth, she screamed against his palm.
Her feet slipped from beneath her and her weight against him made him lose his footing.
They tumbled together down the gentle slope and when they came to a standstill, he was on top of her.
She wriggled against him, her knee barely missing his groin while she cried out against his hand.
“Hush, there are riders about,” he hissed.
She softened and fell quiet. He grew aware of her curves against him, of her pink parted lips and wide blue eyes.
The confusion fell away, his annoyance melted.
He felt her chest rise against his in a staggered breath and he hooked a hand under her head.
In one swift swoop, he brought his mouth down upon hers.
Lorna’s nails grappled at his back and she opened her mouth to him eagerly.
Days of frustration and desperation were poured into that kiss, as though now the barrier of lies had dropped away, he could no longer hold back.
He kissed her aggressively, urgently, barely having the time to savour her taste but relishing the warm recess of her mouth. His body grew tight, his breaths rapid. He tore away, panting, and eyed her.
“Ye bore me a son,” he stated gruffly.
She nodded.
Tears misted in her eyes and all the lies dropped away. He saw only truth. She’d been right. Gillean had lied to him and kept him from his son... and the woman he loved? He could not be sure. He admired her courage, found her beautiful, but did he love her?
He eased himself off her, eyed her muddy gown and scratched face and grimaced.
Taking her hand, he led her back up the slope and they crouched behind the rock.
He peered over to see the riders had taken off to the North.
Thank the Lord, for he had all but forgotten them once her body had touched his. He hoped they would not see them again.
He turned to her. “Ye damn fool lass. They were nearly upon ye.” She flinched at his words and he knelt beside her. “Why did ye no’ tell me sooner?”
“Would it have made any difference? Ye didnae believe me then, would ye have believed me sooner? Besides I couldnae risk Gillean finding out about him. I couldnae trust ye. Ewan is heir to my dowry—the dowry Gillean keeps from me.”
“Ewan,” he murmured experimentally.
“He looks like ye,” she said with a sad smile.
“Aye, ye said.” A noose-like knot tightened his throat. He had missed the birth of his son. He curled a fist and shook his head. “Gillean lied to me.”
“Gillean lies to many people.”
“I treated ye poorly.”
“Aye, ye did.”
How like her not to lie to soften the blow. “I have much to make up for.”
“Like locking me up?”
“Aye, that.”
Her lips curled upwards. “And for not believing me? And for dragging me around? And for—”
Logan silenced her with a swift kiss and tugged her hand. “Aye, all of that.” He paused to study the area, and confirm the riders were nowhere to be seen. “Come, let us go to our son.”
***
Lorna was wearying, though she did not complain.
He saw it in her slowing steps and the way her shoulders dropped.
He peered sideways at her and moved closer to take her arm.
It was the first time he’d touched her since that kiss.
They had been walking for several hours, mostly in silence, with only a few questions punctuating it.
He had much to process, he hardly knew what to say.
“Come, there is a stream there. Let us get a drink and rest for a few moments. We’ll be hidden from the main path.” He pointed to where a thin trail of water broke the mountains and had carved a jagged path in it.
They made their way down the slope to where the stream levelled and Logan peered at the mountain looming over them, its beautiful shades of green and yellow failing to make it any less dramatic . Horses wouldn’t be able to traverse it so they’d be safe here for the moment.
Lorna knelt by the stream and lifted her skirts to wash away the grime from her legs. Logan eyed the pale length of her calves and closed his eyes as he scrubbed a hand over his jaw.
“We are no’ far,” she said. “Another ten miles or so.”
Another ten miles and he’d see the son he hadn’t known he had. He’d meet people he didn’t remember. He did not even know how he was meant to feel. What he thought he’d known was a lie, and now he had a son and a woman who he’d once loved scrubbing her creamy skin in front of him.
She lifted her hair away from her neck and splashed water over her skin.
Trickles spilled down to the loose, slightly torn laces.
Such expensive gowns were not intended for trekking across the Highlands, yet he had to admit, even in a torn, grimy gown, she looked stunning.
The sight arrested him and made his heart want to beat out of his chest.
Then his heart froze and he scowled. Kneeling down next to her, he touched the top of her spine. “What is this?”
She dropped her hair and stiffened. “Naught.”
She didn’t fight him when he pushed aside her golden curls and found the top of a scar. He eased open the laces and forced down her chemise to find the scar travelled down her back and was met by others, all in the same criss-crossing fashion.
“What are these?” He touched the lines and felt her muscles tighten.
“Naught. Pray cease,” she begged huskily.
“These are from a whip,” he said.
“Aye.”
“Who did this to ye?” For one awful moment, he wondered if it could have been him. He still had little idea who he was. What if the man he was now was really him? Or what if he was worse? But Lorna had said she saw pieces of the old Logan in him. And she had said that in his softer moments.
“My husband.”
Relief coursed through him and he eased open her gown further.
The lack of fight in her disturbed him but he could not stop himself.
How could a man do this to a woman? To mar someone so beautiful?
The pain he must have caused... Logan gritted his jaw.
It was a good thing the man was dead or Logan might have to exact some revenge. Maybe see how he liked being flogged.
In spite of her obvious tension, he studied the marks and touched them. “He beat ye often?”
“Aye.”
“What could ye have possibly done to deserve such a beating?”
Lorna shrugged. “Ye know I dinnae hold my tongue well. And lack of sons always angered him.”
“Did I know about this?”
“Nay.”
“But what about—”
“We have but one night together and... well, we didnae undress.”
“If I had known...”
“If ye had known, ye would have killed him and ye would have ended up hanged, for that was the kind of man ye were. None except my maid knew of Walter’s actions. I wouldnae have anyone fighting my battles.”
“I still would kill him if he were alive. By God, I’d have taken great pleasure in it,” he said through gritted teeth.
She shrugged away from him. “See? Ye are no’ so different to the man ye used to be. But pray, dinnae look, they are unsightly.”
“They are no’ unsightly.” He splayed a hand across her back. “Ye are beautiful. Every part of ye is beautiful. Ye are too lovely for me, to be sure.”
He saw her eyes flutter closed while he rubbed his hand up and down her back. This lass was the strongest person he had ever met. She had endured so much yet she had still been willing to fight for him.
The draw was too powerful. He could fight it no longer.
Whoever this woman had been to him in the past, he needed her now.
As the mother of his child, mayhap she was his future.
He eased around behind her, his hands splayed over her shoulders and pressed aside the fabric of her gown and chemise.
Then he brought his lips to her marred skin and kissed the streaks that told him so much of her buried pain.
He did not know who he had been. He did not know who he was now.
But he knew he would have—and would still—done anything to save her from more pain.
“Beautiful,” he murmured.
His lips tingled at the feel of her soft skin, and sweet gratification warmed his chest when she gasped and trembled.
He pushed her garments all the way down until they pooled at her waist. Lips to her neck, he reached around and found her warm, heavy breasts waiting for him.
Her nipples were hard against his palms and if it bothered her being bared to the wilderness of the Highlands, she did not show it.
Lorna tilted her head back into his kisses and he kissed a path to the side of her neck. Nipping lightly at the crook of her shoulder, he relished how her nipples tightened further and her every gentle sigh.
How he had resisted her for so long he knew not.