Chapter Eleven #2
But…he wasn’t jesting. The poison in his food. He knew about it. Her blood ran cold. He knew and he did not seek revenge. He was clever. What true feelings towards his enemy was he concealing?
“Ye lasses sleep here tonight,” he offered. “The lads will ride to Tor tonight,” he cast them all a warning look then turned back to Elspeth and the others. “I will sleep in my father’s house.”
“Let me help with the cleanin’,” Jamie offered, smiling at Helen when their gazes met.
Logan caught her eye before he left with Ewen and Steafan. “May I have a word with ye, Miss Woodburn?”
She nodded, allowing it, and followed him outside.
The rain had stopped and the breeze rushing through the air was scented like pine-covered mountains.
“I know ye helped me stay alive,” he told her, walking in the opposite direction of his cousins.
“Did ye put hot rocks in my makeshift bed?” He smiled at her under the light of the moon.
Nae, she wanted to tell him, ’Twas my body that warmed ye. “Ye stayed alive by yer own will.”
“Ye carried all my blankets to me, lass.” He laughed, a deep, throaty sound that heated her belly. “Are ye so determined to convince me ye didna help me?”
“So what if I did?” she scoffed. “It doesna mean anything.”
“Ye have been talkin’ about killin’ me fer days now, but when I could have died, ye kept me alive.”
“That is because if ye died, I wouldna have the chance to kill ye myself.”
His laughter deepened and he looked at her the way she used to look at Lady Millicent’s wee baby daughter when she first learned how to walk.
“Ye think I am no’ a danger to ye, Mr. Cameron?”
“Och, lass, that possibility has no’ once crossed my mind.”
What? What did he mean by that? She couldn’t think straight when he was near and smiling all doe-eyed at her.
“Promise me ye willna leave again.”
She stared at him. What was he saying? And why was he saying it? Did he… like her?
“Now ye see how dangerous ’tis out there,” he told her.
“Dangerous,” she echoed. She wanted to laugh at herself for thinking he liked her, but she did not feel merry.
“Ye’re safe here,” he went on. “I would never hurt ye more than I already have. Surely ye know that by now.”
Aye, by now. After she had tried to kill him. How come he hadn’t done anything about it or even mention it? No one else would have let her get away with it. Why did he? Mayhap he didn’t. Mayhap he was deceiving her while he planned her demise.
What did he have to plan, really? It was not as if he didn’t want her kin to know.
No one would try to avenge her if he took her life.
She wanted to ask him if he hated her, but what if he said nae?
What if he said aye? Which was worse? And if he did hate her, should she not rejoice in it?
She had a thousand questions but only one thing left her mouth when she opened it.
“I told myself I left to gather herbs to help ye, but ye were well on yer way to recovery. Ye didna need more herbs. I had to leave.”
“Why?” he asked, concern lacing his voice. “And dinna say because ye hate me. I willna believe ye.”
Her eyes opened wider. How dare he not believe she-?
“Ye didna hurt me when I was at my weakest,” he went on, quieting her. “So then, did one of my cousins say or do anythin’ to make ye feel unsafe?”
“Nae,” she told him. “’Twas ye.”
“Me?” he asked, backing away from her. “What did I do?”
Should she tell him? How could she even want to tell him? Looking at him made her good senses vanish, made her want to confess her hopes, dreams and regrets to him while she gazed into his warm, dark eyes.
There were too many torches lit around the outside of the house. She stepped out of the light and into the shadows, knowing he would follow her.
He did.
“Miss Woodburn,” he said, taking her wrist to stop her advance when she would have gone deeper into the darkness. “What did I do to make ye leave? I wasna even awake.”
The darkness was a mistake. Elspeth knew it the moment he spoke and his breath fell against her ear, consuming her in the sound of him, the scent of him, like peat and pine.
She became more aware of the quiet way he moved, and the calming rhythm of his breath.
“Was I?” he asked, setting her heart to ruin. “Why do I suddenly remember…”
Nae. Nae!
“…lyin’ with ye with my arms around ye, and yers around me?”
She shook her head. No words came out.
“Was I dreamin’, lass?” His question drifted over her ear and seeped into her bones, her blood.
“Ay—ay—” She had to tell him, aye, he was dreaming. She didn’t want him to remember her clinging to him beneath the mighty Ben Nevis. Aye! Aye! Say it! He was dreaming!
“Nae, ye werena’ dreaming! But I had no other choice if I didna want ye to die and have—why are ye smiling at me right now?”
“Ye didna want me to die.”
Why did that make him happy? Whatever he assumed she meant, she had to let him know he was wrong.
“Ye should have let me finish. I was going to say…and have yer cousins hunt me down when they found ye dead.”
She didn’t see him move in to gather her up in his arms. She had no warning.
She had never been in such a position before: a man’s embrace.
She didn’t know what to do or how to react as he molded her to all his hard angles and strength.
She stood weak and unable to move while he breathed into her shoulder.
“That is why I made ye leave,” he told her. “’Tis what I made ye feel.”
He was correct. What he made her feel again now. She closed her eyes and let herself be engulfed in his virile allure. But she only remained still for a moment. He was the Cameron, her demon for the last six years.
“I lost everything because of ye,” she said, pushing away from him. “I canna ferget. I willna ferget.”
He released her and took two steps back. “Aye, fergive me. I was wrong to presume—”
“Aye, ye were,” she shot at him. Even more than killing him, she wanted to get away from him. Revenge could wait. Just like earlier, she had to leave before the thought of killing him repulsed her. “I realize I canna remain here. Tomorrow, please bring me to the nearest village.”
“Nae. I will find a safe place fer ye.”
“Nae, I willna be indebted to ye any more than I am already.”
“Ye owe me nothin’, lass,” the thick timbre of his voice reverberated through her blood.
She wanted to cover her ears. She wanted him to stop speaking. Was every kind thing he said meant to move her? She would stop him. “Not even the use of yer arm?”
He didn’t flinch. “Ye were no’ the one who drove his sword into me fer lookin’ at his daughter.”
Elspeth wished she had his fortitude when she swayed on her feet. “If ’tis true and ’twas my father who did this to ye, will ye stand there and tell me I shouldna be punished for his action?”
“Ye shouldna be. The offense is too grave, and though ’tis nowhere as grave the offense my kin caused ye, ye wouldna survive.”
“And ye shouldna be punished fer what yer kin did?” she put to him. “Yer kin would no’ have been there if no’ fer ye. Are ye dense?”
“Aye, fer the last several days, I have been. I must ask myself why I cared tonight if ye were still alive.”
“So ye can have someone to insult?”
He smiled again, as if despite his otherwise better judgement. “Good dreams, Miss Woodburn.”
She heard him moving away from her. She was glad. He made her life easier when he wasn’t in it.
She watched until he came into the moonlight and walked to the larger house. His cousins appeared and hurried to him, filling the night air with laughter.
With a sigh of resignation, Elspeth made her way back toward the small house. His house.
What if he hadn’t come for her today? Helen would likely be dead. Elspeth would have been next. She couldn’t help but think about what would have happened to them if Mr. Cameron hadn’t shown up. And why had he shown up anyway?
Because she was his now. How had she become the property of the man she ha—. But where was that flame of her hatred that had burned so brightly for the last six years? Did a handsome face and a lithesome body turn her head? Did a kind heart?
She had found herself fighting to remember who he was. Her new master. Her Cameron master.
She entered the house and was greeted by Helen.
“So, what about Mr. Cameron?” Helen asked her.
“What about him?”
“Is he friend or foe?”
Elspeth turned to look at the door. Did her hesitation to answer confirm that she had gone mad? “I dinna know.”