Page 77 of Wild Highland Rose
"No." He hesitated, guilt cresting. He wanted to stop there, to avoid saying it out loud., but he wasn't a man to shirk responsibility. He turned to face her. "I have a fiancée, Grania. Her name is Lindsey Bowden."
"I see. And now yer feeling guilty o'er yer feelings fer Marjory."
Cameron groaned. The woman could read his mind. "Yes. In a crazy kind of way I've betrayed them both." Grania's sightless eyes seemed to search his. He had a sudden urge to throw himself on her lap and sob. He blinked and pushed the thought aside, embarrassed. "Ihavebetrayed them."
"Not knowingly."
"But how could I possibly have forgotten something as important as a fiancée?" The images of his dream ran through his mind, the little voice inside him saying that he hadn't forgotten, just repressed the memory. His guilt intensified. "I've got to get back there. To make things right."
"Are ye so sure that's where you belong?"
An image of Marjory, flushed from their lovemaking, popped into his head. Suddenly, her dark hair faded to gold and her eyes changed from blue to green. Lindsey. He buried his head in his hands. "I've made promises there, in Atlanta. And I think," again images of the dream flashed through his mind, "I think, that Lindsey needs me. What kind of man would I be if I abandoned one woman for another?"
"A human man." He felt her arm around him. He leaned into her and felt the tears begin to flow.'Stop those tears, this instant.'He could hear his father's voice, disdainful at any sign of emotion from his young son. With a gulp, he pulled away from Grania's embrace, humiliated by his display of weakness.
"Never be afraid to show ye care, lad. 'Tis the man who canna share his feelings that is to be pitied, no' the man willing to bare his soul." She paused and then apparently making up her mind about something, stood and placed both hands on his shoulders. "I never knew exactly where it was I arrived here. 'Twas somewhere in the woods on the far side o' the loch, but I never did find the exact site."
Cameron sobered instantly, all emotion gone. "What are you trying to tell me?"
"I'm telling you that just because I couldna get back doesna mean that the same will be true fer you. Ye know where ye were when ye awoke, and more importantly, ye have good reason to go home."
"I don't understand. You had good reason, too. There was your little boy."
"Aye, but that wasn't the overriding reason I wanted to return. At least no' in the beginning."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that my reasons were selfish. I wanted my life back. No' my marriage or my son, but my life, with all its wealthand privilege. I'd worked so hard to get it and then just as I was finally feeling like I'd made it, I landed here in the lap o' poverty again."
"But you said that you prefer it here, now." He stood, too. Her hands dropped to her side and she tipped her face up toward his.
"I do. God moves in mysterious ways and I've come to realize that the things I valued then were worthless. What matters is the people you love. Here, in this time, despite everything, I'm at peace. And I wouldn't trade that fer anything in the world. Except perhaps to see my son again." She sighed, then squared her shoulders, obviously pushing the past behind her. "Marjory tells me yer real name is Cameron."
"Yeah. My first name is actually Robert, but I never use it. Always preferred Cameron." He didn't add that he had started using his middle name when his mother had died. Somehow he couldn't bear to be called Robert anymore. It made her death seem more real.
As if sensing his discomfort, Grania reached for his hand. "We've said enough for tonight. Yer tired and in need o' a good night's sleep. Things will look better in the light o' a new day."
He nodded. He was tired, and frankly, bed sounded like the perfect way to escape all of this for a little while. He squeezed Grania's hand, then released it and walked away without another word.
22
Cameron paced around the small bedroom. Firelight danced against the walls, creating shadowy partners that writhed to an unheard rhythm. He sat on a stool by the hearth and pushed back his hair. No, he thought, not his hair, Ewen's hair. Cameron Even had black hair, and a life far removed from the Highlands of Scotland.
His practice in Atlanta was thriving. Or at least it would be in a few hundred years. He sighed. It was all so complicated. He thought about his new house, a great big Tudor mansion. He and Lindsey had picked it out together. It was in the most exclusive part of town. Hell, he'd just bought a brand new Porsche.
Lindsey.
The thought of her brought a smile to his face. They were suited in so many ways. He'd known the minute he'd seen her that she would make the perfect wife. He had pursued her with the precision of a surgeon, planning each move with expertise learned from his father.
And he'd won the prize. Despite being besieged by other suitors, Lindsey had fallen in love with him. And he with her.
And now he'd betrayed her.
Thoughts of Marjory pushed themselves front and center. The opposite of Lindsey in so many ways, she was no less attractive. Perhaps in some ways even more so. Maybe it was the framing of the fifteenth century, or maybe his mind had somehow been touched by Ewen Cameron's. But as horrible as he felt about betraying Lindsey, he couldn't force himself to truly regret his time with Marjory.
Which made him feel less than honorable. He had to go home. He had to make everything right. Prove to Lindsey that she was the one. Take away the fear and pain he saw in the dream. Pain he was certain somehow, he had caused.
He stood, and grabbed the poker, stirring the embers of his dying fire. It leapt to life and he spread his hands out in front of the flames, seeking their warmth. Lord, it was cold in Scotland. He released the pin at his shoulder and managed to unwind the long length of plaid. Removing his shirt, he jumped quickly into bed, pulling back the bed curtains so that he could still see the fire.
