Page 80 of Wild Highland Rose
"You don't mean that." He grabbed her shoulders, turning her to face him. "His loss is as real as yours. And Ewen's death on top of Cait's will no doubt fuel his hatred as well."
"Who is Cait?" She frowned, trying to remember the name.
"His wife." Cameron blew out a slow breath, as if he weren't certain if he should speak.
"And how is it I've never heard of her?"
"She died when you were quite small. Your father supposedly killed her."
In the stillness that followed his words, Marjory could hear the fire pop, and the wind whistling through a crack in the window. Everything seemed to slow down, as if frozen in time.
"That canna be. My father wouldna kill a woman."
"I don't think he meant to. But it happened just the same. The Macphersons were stealing cattle, and Torcall and Cait stumbled upon them. In the chase, your father cornered them, and spooked Cait's horse. She was thrown and died."
"And Torcall never forgave him."
Cameron nodded. "And her death set off a never-ending circle of hatred and revenge. And one of you is going to have to stop it. Before it destroys you both."
Marjory pulled away from him, her thoughts tumbling through her mind like sparrows in the wind. "I dinna understand why my father never told me."
"Maybe because he wanted to spare you. To protect you. To keep you from the ugliness of reality. He loved you, Marjory. Just as Torcall loves Ewen."
"It's all too much." She waved a hand through the air as if she could simply brush it all away. Cameron, Lindsey, Torcall, Ewen. Everything that had been real suddenly flipped on its side, the world as she knew it changed forever.
He was beside her again, this time with his arms around her. "Let me hold you. Make it right for at least one more night."
She leaned against him, letting the warmth of his body soothe her. His smell now familiar, comforting. "We shouldna be together."
"I know," he whispered, "but if things go as planned, I'll be gone tomorrow. And I want to hold you one last time. Just hold you, Marjory."
She allowed him to pull her down beside him, her cheek resting warm against his chest, the rhythm of his breathing a final link to a life she'd never know—happiness that had once more alluded her.
Within minutes, his even breathing signaled his descent into slumber, and she lay in silence, staring at the ceiling, reveling in the warmth of his body against hers, agonizing over the fact that he loved someone else.
The words bit into her heart, cutting deeply. She had to accept the fact that he had a covenant with Lindsey, and she knew, without a doubt, that Cameron was the kind of man who would honor his promises.
She swallowed back tears. He'd never made promises to her. In fact, he'd been clear from the beginning that there could never be anything permanent between them. He was going back, back to Lindsey, back to where he belonged.
It was for the best. He'd no doubt be safer there as well.
She tightened her arms around him, feeling the warmth of his breath against her hair, and shivered. At least for tonight, for this moment, he belonged to her. Tomorrow… She sighed. Tomorrow, she'd have to let him go.
23
Cameron groaned, trying to block the shaft of sunlight stabbing into his eyes. He'd forgotten to shut the bed curtains again. He rolled over, dragging the pillow over his head. Surely, it couldn't be morning, it felt as if he'd only just fallen asleep.
Last night had been a doozy, and the memory of it made him reach out for Marjory, only to find the bed beside him empty. They'd said so much last night, yet neither had spoken the words that really mattered. He supposed it was all for the best. He needed to move forward, to think of Lindsey and his life with her.
He saw her again, standing in the rain, reaching for him. Blood everywhere. She needed him. He was certain of it. And nothing else could be allowed to matter. He had to make things right.
"Come on then, lad, are ye going to sleep the day away? I've been sitting here for a quite a time, and I tell ye, I've had enough o' waiting."
The voice startled him out of his thoughts, and he rolled over to find Aimil hovering over him with a tray. He closed his eyesagain, certain that he was dreaming. Aimil would never come to his bedroom, and if she did, she'd much more likely be carrying a knife than a tray.
He frowned. On second thought, maybe a tray could be used as a weapon. Something along the lines of Mrs. Aimil doing it in the bedroom with the tray. Not exactly the lead pipe, but it would probably do in a pinch.
He opened his eyes to find the smiling woman still in the room. She'd moved away from the bed and was busy arranging the tray on the bedside table. "I've brought ye food to break yer fast."
