Page 37 of Highlander's Runaway Seductress
She loved him.
14
Acaustic mix of guilt, pain, and fear swirled inside Damien’s heart while he watched Amelie sleep in the faint dawn light. To think that he had nearly lost her made his stomach lurch so badly that he was on the verge of losing the contents.
I never should have taken her on this trip. Is two thousand silver coins worth her life?
Ben had already woken and was sitting against a tree and looking on. “What is botherin’ ye, lad?”
“We could have lost her, Ben.” Without moving his eyes from Amelie, Damien said. “She could have been dead while she was supposed to be under me protection.”
A low sigh left Ben. “I ken, and I cannae stop thankin’ God that I followed her. I ken ye were tryin’ to set things right inside the tavern, and I thought it best to go set things right with her. When I saw the two tusslin’, I grabbed the first thing I could see.”
Moving his gaze from Amelie to the man Damien considered as his father, he offered a grateful smile. “Ye did good, Ben. Thank ye.”
“Hm,” Ben mused. “What else is botherin’ ye?”
That I am thinking it best to just carry Amelie to her home. To her faither and just leave it there. Takin’ that money seems…wrong.
“How the Laird will receive her,” Damien uttered instead. “And how long it will take to do it.”
“Damien,” Ben shuffled towards him, “I’m sure that when we get there and he gets wind o’ the lass, we’ll get in. And after this, ye and I willnae have to keep stealin’ to get by. This will be enough silver to carry us a good way.”
Tightening his jaw, Damien asked, “But what will happen when it runs out? When it’s all gone, we’ll have to go back to it. I’ll have to go back and…honestly, Ben, I’m tired. There is nay doubt that one day I am goin’ to choose the wrong house, run into the wrong people, and end up either locked up, killed on the spot or hanged later on.”
“I daenae think ye will,” Ben said. “Ye’re canny, lad, ye’ll be fine.”
“After all the close calls I have had lately, I think it’s best for me to quit,” Damien replied. “Nay one in me line of profession gets away with their acts scot-free every time. It is unavoidable—one day I will get caught.”
“But it will nae be soon,” Ben assured him. “Even if ye do change, what will ye do?”
“I daenae ken yet,” Damien uttered while his emotions both lifted and waned. “Become a smithy, take up fishin’, even go on and become a guard at the capital, or a soldier. I want do somethin’ honorable for once; somethin’ that will make me look at meself and be proud of what I am. I daenae want to do somethin’ that will get me maimed.”
Just as Ben was about to reply, Amelie began to stir, and she opened her eyes a little. A brief grimace crossed her face while Damien’s hand lifted to touch the rough torn strips of cloth wrapped around her head, covering her injury.
Damien moved to assist her while sitting up. With a tender hold, he helped her sit up right. “Mornin’ lass. How are ye feelin’? Any dizziness?”
“Nay,” Amelie said. “Me head hurts but other than that, I think all’s well. I am thirsty though.”
Twisting, Damien reached for his pack, but Ben got to it first and fished out the waterskin from it to hand to him. Gently holding it out, he braced Amelie with his body while she drank.
“Are ye steady enough to travel today?” Damien asked, worriedly. “Because we can wait a day or two if ye cannae.”
Waving him off, Amelie pulled the skin from her mouth. “Nay, I’ll be fine. We can travel.”
His eyes skimmed over her pale face and over the bandage where he knew the still raw cut lay, but she looked determined and while Damien held some doubts, he nodded. “Sure, we can go. But ye need to eat first.”
* * *
That evening, while Amelie was resting in the town’s inn that bordered Dolberry, Damien stood on the bluff over the river they would cross the next morning. He stared out at the dark trail of water with deep pensiveness.
Amelie deserved better, much better than he was, and he feared, even better then he could ever be.
Even if he quit being a thief and took up an upstanding job, he did not think he would ever merit a place in her life—especially the one he wanted. That of her lover.
Husband, mayhap?
He openly scoffed that notion. Even if the issue came about, the Laird would ask him who he was and what he did to get by. When he answered, what man in his position would want his only child bonded to a criminal?
