Page 101 of Love with a Scottish Outlaw
It was far more lenient than he deserved. And it was all because of Cat. He stared at her too long, he knew. Her complexion was white, her eyes grave. He tried to memorize her features, her eyes that reminded him of the finest Scottish whisky, the mouth that had been sweet beneath his. He would never taste that mouth again, or bask in her gentle smile. It was a punishment all its own.
He bowed to her. When he spoke, his voice came out rough. “Lady Catriona, deceiving ye has been the greatest regret of my life. I do not deserve your forgiveness or the kindness ye’ve shown to me tonight. The best thing I can do to make up for what I’ve done is vow that ye’ll never see or hear from me again. Ye have my sincere apology.”
With another bow, he turned and left the great hall. One guard still trailed him and remained outside his door, but he wasn’t surprised. Duncan had spent too many weeks denying Cat the right to her own life. It was time to give it back to her in truth. Even if he could not imagine going back to a life without her. He’d never thought he’d have the kind of happy marriage he’d seen in others. It was just difficult to have glimpsed such a thing, experienced a moment of heaven with Cat, and know it could never be his future.
Chapter 24
Cat spent another restless night because of Duncan Carlyle. Her sister-in-law had arranged for Duncan to overhear everything Cat said about him.
She rolled over and pounded a pillow, trying again to remember just how she’d phrased things.
Oh, what did it matter? It had worked, hadn’t it? She’d persuaded her stubborn, arrogant brother to free Duncan, to even help him with his legal troubles. And she didn’t regret it. She’d made clear to Duncan that there could be nothing more between them. He’d betrayed her, and she could never forget that, however wonderful he was as a clan chief, however much his people admired and were devoted to him, however much seeing him hold infants and talk to four-year-olds had made something twist painfully in her chest—however much she wanted to picture his face with a smile.
She would just have to tell him this when he came to her. Because of course, he would not leave without speaking to her.
So although she only dozed through the night, no one knocked on her door; no one snuck in and put a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet; no one wanted a last kiss. She felt like a princess in a tower, alone and unloved.
At dawn, she was left standing in her window, watching Duncan mount his horse in the muddy courtyard below. He pulled Finn up behind him. The girl had come to Cat crying an hour before, saying she missed her friends in the cave, and she couldn’t let Duncan be alone.
And the unspoken chastisement was that Cat was letting Duncan go.
Letting him go? Cat had never had him! Their relationship had been nothing more than captor and captive—she just hadn’t known it until it was too late, until she already had feelings for him. And those feelings had taken her over, leading to one night of lovemaking that she’d never forget.
But that was all she could have of him, because trust was one of the most important things about a marriage, and how could she ever trust him again?
For several weeks, she tried to resume her old life. It felt strange to have so much room to move around, a bedchamber that felt nearly as big as the cave’s great hall, and a real great hall that rose several floors high and was filled each night with nearly a hundred clansmen. None of them knew all the details of her adventure with Clan Carlyle. Perhaps Owen thought he was sparing her, when in truth it made her feel even more different and alone.
Now that she knew what it was truly like to have so little, Cat made it a point to visit all the villages she could, bringing baskets of treats, and mostly being there to hear the good and the bad, and bring things to Owen’s attention.
Maggie, the sister-in-law she’d only just gotten to know before her accident, now seemed a refuge. She wanted to hear all about Cat’s adventures, and never tired of asking questions. She seemed to know when Cat couldn’t sleep, and would come into her room, curl up near the fire, and they’d talk.
Three weeks after her return, Cat was standing at the dark window, hugging herself, seeing nothing, when she heard Maggie’s familiar knock, a couple quick taps.
Maggie ducked her head in, wearing a hopeful smile. “I can’t sleep.” She touched her finally noticeable belly. “I get queasy when I lie down.”
Smiling, Cat gestured her in. “Then come sit with me.”
Two chairs were before the fire, and they each curled up in them, blankets over their laps for warmth, as autumn nights in the Highlands foretold the approach of winter.
“Ye looked . . . far away,” Maggie said.
Cat bit her lip, then gave an embarrassed smile. “I was. I was thinking how glad I was that the Carlyles no longer have to live in a cave. Ye’re sure Owen said everything was taken care of?”
Maggie nodded. “Several of the sheriff’s men even agreed to testify as to what was done, in exchange for leniency, all to ensure Duncan’s freedom. He’s back with his people, clear of any crime.”
Cat let out a breath. “I’m so glad. I feel guilty being warm each night knowing winter will soon come to those caves. Maybe now he can be the chief he was always meant to be.”
“And that’s . . . what?”
“Ye know,” Cat said with a shrug, “living in his family manor again, helping his people improve their lives—”
“Finding a spouse?”
Cat was surprised that she actually jerked in response. She forced a laugh. “That’s what people do, do they not?”
“I don’t think ye’re doing that. Ye know Owen would take ye wherever ye want—with more guards this time.”
“The number of guards didn’t matter,” Cat said sadly, remembering the men who’d died. “I don’t know if I’m ready to tell a stranger, some man, what has happened to me these last few months.”
