Chapter Thirteen
Elspeth rested her head on her pillow and closed her eyes. She was growing tired of hating Mr. Cameron. It made her want to weep. She’d had plenty of opportunities to kill him. Yet he still lived and breathed…and mesmerized. Why couldn’t she do it? Why had she lain with him to keep him warm?
It would take too long to poison him without leaving a trace of her. The longer she was here with him, the less she wanted to poison him.
Restless, she rose from her bed and ventured out into the hall.
“Fergive me,” she cried softly to her family when she was alone. “I am failing ye. ’Tis not as easy to kill a man as I thought. He makes it so difficult. I dinna know if I can do it anymore. Fergive me.”
“Miss Woodburn,” Mr. Cameron’s voice interrupted her prayers. She spun around to look at him. “Is there anythin’ ye need before I leave this house fer the night?”
“Were ye following me, Mr. Cameron?”
He scoffed and Elspeth wished she could see him.
“Of course not. I was comin’ to yer room to check on ye.”
“Ye dinna have anything to help bring on sleep, do ye?”
“Nothin’ but the sound of my voice.”
They both laughed when she pushed him and he went back two steps.
“But I truly do know a remedy.”
“What is it?”
“A walk in the night air.”
She lifted her brows and cast him a curious look. She must confess; she liked the sound of it and so followed him when he moved away from her room.
“I confess,” he said without turning to look at her. “I didna think ye would agree to spend an extra moment with me. Ye have my thanks, lass.”
Now, who would offer gratitude for a simple thing like that? No one she knew, Elspeth thought, staring at the back of his head, the broad flare of his shoulders.
“Ye have my thanks as well.”
He turned to her as she caught up and walked beside him. “What fer?”
“Well, ye are helping me sleep easier, are ye not?”
He smiled—he smiled so easily. She wished she could do the same.
They stepped out together into the night lit by stars, the moon, and torchlight around both houses.
Elspeth breathed in the cool, misty air laced with scents of fir and the clean aroma of the Highlands after a rain. “Did it rain tonight?”
“Aye, a wee bit,” he told her.
“It smells good.” Some places did not always smell good. They smelled foreign to her or uncared for…like her. But the mountainy air around Logan Cameron’s house filled her with comfort and memories of things she’d once cherished and missed.
“Do ye like it here then?”
She should tell him it didn’t matter if she liked it or not. She couldn’t stay, but his deep voice both covered her like a blanket and reverberated through her, making her nerve endings tingle.
“Aye, I do.”
It spilled from her lips before she thought not to say it. But since she had already started… “I mean, aye, ’tis verra pleasant here.”
“Aye,” he said. “I agree.”
She laughed. “Who would have ever thought ye and I would agree about anything?”
“Life is filled with wonders, lass.”
Aye, like the fireflies dancing around his head, or the wind through the foothills that sounded like music.
“Is that why ye live here alone, instead of with the rest of yer kin at Tor Castle? Is it unpleasant there?”
“Nae. ’Tis my childhood home and I love it as such. But once I could no longer use my arm, I felt like a fool practicin’ when the physicians said ’twas useless. I came here and lived in my father’s house until we built mine together. I love it here, but I visit home from time to time.”
“Then, are ye ready to go back since yer arm is so much better?”
He walked a few more steps, then stopped and turned to her.
“I should return before my mother comes here.”
“Why?” she asked him. “I willna hurt her.”
His smile returned and Elspeth wondered how she would ever kill him. She was supposed to keep her purpose at the forefront of her thoughts, but she couldn’t do it with him. He was kind to her, and—dare she say it? Compassionate. Every time he spoke, he chipped away at her hatred and anger.
“’Tis no’ that,” he explained, or tried to. “I feel different and she will notice.”
Elspeth stared at him for a moment without blinking. “That leaves me with more questions than any explanation.”
He blew out a breath and began again. “She will nae longer leave us alone once she discovers who ye are and how I feel about ye.”
“How ye…? How do ye feel?”
“I care aboot ye, lass,” he said without hesitation. “I would…like ye to remain here.”
What? He was not serious, was he? He was teasing her, wasn’t he?
She didn’t think he hated her, but she never thought he liked her enough to want her to stay.
It was too sudden. She wasn’t prepared for the rush of emotions it ushered in.
She knew what the emotions were while she held them back at the gates, even more reason she couldn’t allow herself to feel them for Logan Cameron.
“Ye dinna have to give me an answer now,” he allowed.
“An answer?”
“Aye, to whether or no’ ye want to stay here.”
She did. She did.
“Mr. Cameron?”
“Aye, lass?”
“When I was a child, I believed there were good-hearted people out there. I sought to be one of them. I did my best.” Until the night I caused…I caused the deaths of everyone in the village, everyone in my family by putting the guards to sleep so I could help ye.
She still didn’t possess the strength to confess the absolute truth to him, even if he suspected it. Mayhap, one day she would.
“But I learned that my dreams were just that. Dreams of a child. All the way up until now, I thought people like ye didna exist. Ye change my mind constantly, over and over again. I dinna want it to be ye. There are too many obstacles.”
He smiled, looking down at her. “I’m good at movin’ obstacles oot of my way, lass.”
She didn’t doubt it. He never gave up on his body. Even now, as they walked in the golden torchlight, he swung his arm, rotating his shoulder, practicing moving. She knew that if he ever set his mind to having her, he would stop at nothing.
“Miss Woodburn, some would call ye a fool to come with me in the dead of night.”
“Those are the ones who do not know ye,” she told him, casting away the concerns his warning conjured.
“So then,” he said with a smile lacing his voice, “have I earned the honor of not bein’ feared by ye?”
“Hmm, ye have good recollection,” she remarked, remembering when she told him he had to earn the honor of being a man she did not fear. “Aye, ye have earned that honor, Mr. Cameron. I dinna fear ye.”
She wanted to laugh at his happy grin. Foolish man. Why would such a thing make him so happy? She didn’t mind. She liked it when he smiled. There was nothing hidden in it. It stemmed from within and bloomed into something so beautifully male, it tempted her to always smile back, to forgive him.
“Mr. Cameron?”
“Aye?”
“Why are ye so kind to me? Have ye not had resentment towards me all these years fer the condition of yer arm?” If he had—and how could he not, she wanted to know how he had let it all go. Could she? Considering it was enough to make her feel like a traitorous retch.
“Miss Woodburn, nothin’ that happened that night was yer fault. How could I have any resentment toward ye?”
“But what happened that night was my fault. Everyone died without one of Dunley’s guards lifting an eyelid.”
“Aye, the lads spoke aboot no’ havin’ to fight because all of Dunley’s men had already been felled by someone else,” he said, and she remembered that he had been passed out cold. He had no idea of the condition of the guards.
“They must have,” she said, knowing with a sinking feeling in her belly that she had said too much.
He was quiet for a moment, and Elspeth hoped he wasn’t thinking about it. “’Tis the truth,” he finally said. “How else did my kin manage to save me and leave withoot any resistance?”
Her eyes stung with unshed tears. She was thankful that the light was so dim. Still, she didn’t risk speaking, her sorrow cracking her voice. She didn’t want to think about what she’d done for the man who was now her master.
Everyone at Dunley died because of her.
“I think I am sleepy enough now. Let us walk back.” She turned on her heel without waiting for him. She wanted to be away from him now. She didn’t want to think about that night anymore. She wanted to forget it. She’d tried to forget it.
He walked her back to her room in his house. When they reached the door, she disappeared behind it without a word. She felt remorseful for being rude, but she didn’t trust her “goodnight” not to turn into more.
She climbed into bed and wondered if Mr. Cameron, the kindest man she’d ever met, was her punishment for spiking the guards’ drinks six years ago.
She closed her eyes and wondered how Helen found sleeping in his bed. She was glad she’d washed his linens this morning. She didn’t like the thought of another lass curled up in his scent. She should have taken his bed when he’d given it up, but she hadn’t thought it wise. She still didn’t.
But coming in from the night air, with his scent clinging to her, she remembered laying with him, feeling freer than ever before in her life, breathing in the scents of the Highlands on his clothes, his skin.
His skin…
Her heart beat so hard she was afraid it would wake Helen down the hall. It was a mistake asking him to stay. It went beyond not wanting to be alone. She didn’t want to be without him. Och, what was she to do?
She lay awake for another hour thinking of the smile he offered so freely, his large, soulful dark eyes that were always on her, whether she had hair or not. His words that he swiped over her wounds like the finest healing balm.
She finally slept, but there were still stars in her eyes and they brought dreams to her of processions of handsome Highlanders. One among them was a charming prince with a wide, easy smile, luminous, meaningful eyes, and decadent, luscious lips.
He is the one who holds my heart, Papa, she leaned in and whispered to her father as the procession went on.