Page 23 of Wild Highland Rose
"Is no' possible," she scoffed. "Yer brother took that knife from me years ago. It couldna have been in the stream all that time."
"It looks as though it'd been there quite some time, actually. See for yourself." He held out the knife, and she snatched it from his hand, almost as if she were afraid he'd pull it away again. "I take it it's important to you."
She nodded, still staring at the tiny blade in her hand. "'Twas my mother's."
"I see." He didn't see anything at all. But it was obvious that she wasn't of a mind to explain.
As if to emphasize the point, she sheathed the knife in a loop on her belt and gave him a frigid smile. "Not that I'm ungrateful for what you did," her words lacked conviction, "but what were you doing wandering around out here on your own?"
"I could ask the same thing of you."
Marjory squared her shoulders, eyes flashing again. "I happen to be the mistress of this valley. As such, I come and go as I please."
"Well, as far as I can remember," he grimaced, "and I'll grant you that's not far, I am free to come and go as I please, too. And before you so rudely interrupted my wandering, as you called it, I was trying to find a way out of this valley and back to where I came from, wherever the hell that is." He paused for a breath, anger heating his face. "And that, my dear wife, would mean that I would be escaping you, permanently."
He turned and started back in the direction of the burn, frustration churning in his gut. The woman was maddening. Though alluring. And not his wife. Hell, she wasn't even a friend. Which meant he had no ties to her and no reason to stay here. No reason at all. Which made it all the more confusing that a part of him wanted nothing more than to do just that.
Without looking back, he continued to crash through the brush with no regard for his exposed skin. He hardly felt the scrapes and scratches as he pushed forward toward the stream. Damn the woman, what was it about her that got under his skin? He should have let Allen have her.
Except of course that he wouldn't have done something like that. No matter how things had been between Marjory and Ewen, and no matter what her father had done, no woman deserved that. No matter the century. A low hanging branch gouged at his head. He cursed, but continued walking. At this rate, he'd be at the landslide site in no time.
"You're going the wrong way."
He turned at the sound of her voice, groaning in frustration. "Are you following me?"
Marjory stood by a small evergreen, its branches a perfect backdrop for her delicate beauty. Cameron caught his breath at the sight.
"I'm no' following you. I came after you. There's a difference. I dinna want you to get lost." She tried, in vain, to look nonchalant.
Cameron smiled, pleased for reasons he couldn't quite put a name to. "You did follow me."
"Very well, have it your way then, I followed you, but only to tell you you're going the wrong way. The pool lies over there." She pointed back the way they had come.
"And why, may I ask, should I trust you? If Allen is to be believed, you tried to kill me."
"Allen is a fool. If I'd wanted you dead, you wouldna be standing here blethering at me."
"And why should I believe that?"
"Because I've never lied to you. There is no love lost between us, but I've never told you anything less than the truth."
"I beg to differ. You're lying now."
Marjory colored furiously. Anger making her eyes shoot fire. "About what?"
"About the reason you followed me."
"You really are insufferable."
Cameron gave her a mock bow. "I seemed to have learned from a master."
"So, tell me then, why do you think I followed you?"
Cameron smiled at the frustration painted across her face. "You are following me, Margie, my girl, because you don't want to be alone."
She blanched, her face suddenly devoid of all color. "What did you say?" Her voice was so soft he had to strain to hear it.
"I said that you don't want to be alone."
