Page 12 of The Highlander Who Loved Me

“What a rude, selfish reply! Yet I would expect nothing less from the likes of ye.” She favored him with a mocking scowl that set his blood to boiling.

“Dinnae speak to me of selfishness, Lady Joan. I’ve been here long enough to see the truth of what lies beneath yer pretty face. Ye are jealous of Davina and the love I have fer her and will stop at nothing to keep us apart.”

“That’s a lie,” Joan hissed. “I care nothing fer Davina’s childish devotion to ye. What does it matter to me? My father is besieged by men who desire me as their bride. Men who are great warriors and noble, wealthy leaders of their clans, not inconsequential second sons.”

“The laird will have to provide a very substantial dowry in order to entice any man to have a viper like ye fer a wife,” James countered.

Joan’s eyes narrowed with anger, but James was through talking. Gritting his teeth, he shook off Joan’s hand, opened the chamber door, and stepped inside.

Davina was alone in the room. She was sitting in bed, resting against a pile of pillows. Her lips tightened when she spied him, then with knotted fists she pulled the blankets up to her chin, covering her body completely. His gut heaved at her obvious fear of him, yet he walked forward until he was standing nearer to the bed.

“Did ye not get my message?” she whispered, sinking beneath the covers.

“Joan said ye dinnae wish to see me, but I knew I cannae trust her word.” He took a few steps closer, needing to see her face. Her eye was still swollen, her face pale, but the bruises had started to fade. “Ye are my betrothed, Davina. ’Tis only right that we spend time together.”

“Oh, James.” She brought her hand up to her mouth and shook her head. “I feared that yer nobility would force ye to honor yer proposal, but I shall not hold ye to it. I release ye from the pledge to wed me.”

“Nay!” He touched her cheek with his knuckle and she began to tremble. “We shall be married. It need not happen soon—we both need time to heal.”

She turned an uneasy gaze toward him. “I know in time my body shall mend, but the memories and fear of the attack will always remain. ’Tis unfair to saddle ye with such a broken woman fer a wife.”

He shook his head vehemently. “I dinnae feel that way.”

“But I do!” She shouted the words, but the effort drained her strength. Davina slumped against the pillows and he saw a tear slide down her check. “Why must ye torture me with visions of what can never happen? I can never be yer wife, James. I can never be any man’s wife.”

“I love ye, Davina.” He curled his fingers gently over hers, but she wrenched her hand away. “We shall face this together, overcome it together.”

Beneath her covers he saw her shiver. “The memories willnae leave me.”

“Davina, they will eventually fade, if only—”

“Dear Lord have mercy! Are ye not listening to me? ’Tis best this way, James.”

“Ye cannae mean it, Davina.”

“Aye, I do.” Sorrow and shame crowded into her eyes and he felt his heart shattering into a thousand pieces.

“Ye must give it time, lass. Ye’ll feel differently in a few weeks.”

“Nay. Time only makes the memories of the attack more vivid and hateful. ’Tis why I beg the healer to dose me with potions that make me sleep, that help me forget.” She made a sound deep in the back of her throat that was part frustration and shame. “Please, James, as soon as ye are able, take yer leave of Armstrong Castle. Return home and forget about me.”

“Never!”

Her eyes focused on him. “If ye ever had any true feelings fer me, ye will accept this and do as I ask. Leave and never return.”

James was stunned. He grimaced, tortured emotions of anger taking control of him, spreading like a fever through his entire body. He lifted his arm, needing to smash something, but Davina’s sudden cry stopped him cold. Somehow mastering his crushing pain, James slowly lowered his arm.

There was silence in the chamber. Davina turned her head and pressed her face into the pillow. He could hear the soft sobs that she tried to muffle and his heart broke anew.

Scowling, he left the chamber.

Thankfully, the corridor was empty. Never in his life had he felt so completely alone. He steeled himself to courage as he stood there, knowing that somehow he must find the strength to do as Davina asked.

’Twas such a part of his nature to fight for what he wanted in life, but in this case James knew he was defeated. It was his fault that Davina was so frightened, so scarred, so broken. He had failed her. He had no right to expect her to still love him, though he knew his heart would forever belong to her.

Even if she no longer wanted that heart.

Sleep was impossible to achieve, but James forced himself to stay in his bed for the remainder of the day and through the long night. He arose as dawn was breaking, carefully dressed, and then packed his belongings. Having too much pride to sneak off like a thief in the night, he waited in the great hall until the household gathered to break their fast.

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