Page 29 of Highlander’s Torn Bride

For hours now, he had been trying to decide how she would explain Gavin away. He had come up with answers both simple and outlandish. Though he liked some answers less than others, he had decided that any answer would suit him. At least, with an answer in his hand, he could declare that he knew at least part of the heart belonging to the woman who had stolen his.

How humiliating it now was to hear that she still deemed him unworthy of her truths. How much deeper would she drive the blade of her deceptions into his heart?

“You ken, lass, since the moment we met, I couldna figure out who you were. I held onto hope that the arrogance and the selfishness and the vanity that you put forward was not the truth of you. Instead, I held onto comments made in passing and expressions that lingered for mere moments, trying to use them to prove you were a decent person. How disappointing it is now to see that that was a false hope. I’ll never ken who you are, nor do I wish to anymore. And so, I’ll never respect you.”

Margaret didn’t say anything. But she didn’t look away.

“Well? Will you rise to defend yourself or shrink into your shame? Come on, be bold, lass.”

“I—” her voice trembled, “I am a decent person.”

“Are you? Shall we examine the points against? You did not bother to learn where the kitchens in your own home were since you did not deign to ever go there. You spat on the memory of your aunt because she married a merchant. You—”

Margaret jumped from the bed, her hand flying out and striking him across the cheek, sending his head whipping to the side and instantly reddening into the shape of her palm. After a moment of frozen shock, Alexander leapt to his feet and reached for her, trying to take her wrists in his hands. “You and that godforsaken unwomanly strength of yours. What did—”

“You’re perfectly correct in your assumptions. You do not ken me at all,” Margaret shouted over him, jumping back and putting the table between them. She lifted the goblet and hurled it at him, hitting him square in the chest. “Do you think that was my wish?”

“Tis certainly your choice!” Alexander said, trying to round the table and reach her before she could throw the second goblet, but to no avail. It hit him squarely in the same place on his chest as the first.

“No! Tis not! I wish to tell you everything. I wish to lay myself before you just as I am and ken that twould not change a thing between us, but tis not possible!” she shouted, slamming her hands down on the table.

“I’ll not be letting you win this argument, Margaret, even if you throw a tantrum.”

“There is no winning this argument, Alexander. If I do not explain everything, you’ll despise me. If I tell you the truth, you’ll still…” Margaret paused, and he watched all the color drain from her face. She wobbled where she stood and then began to crumple to the floor.

Alexander rushed over, grabbing her around the waist before she hit the stone floor. She gasped for air, and he pulled her close to his chest while she regained control of her breath.

“Breathe, lass,” he whispered, gently rubbing her back.

Her hair smelled like lavender, calming and refreshing like springtime. With a deep breath, he relished the moment, unsure of how many more moments like this he had before he forced himself to let her go.

Letting her go had always been the answer. Even when he entered the room to shout and rage, he had known that his conclusion was to put her in a carriage and set her free. He would not keep her here if she loved another. It would be cruel to them both. All he wanted first were the answers to the questions he so desperately wanted. He had been willing to press her with painful words, knowing that any damage he did to her was nothing compared to what he was feeling. But now, as she crumbled before him, he felt guilt wash over him like a cold and heavy rain.

Alexander lifted her from the ground and carried her over to the chair, seating himself with her on his lap. She was still gasping for air, though her breaths had subdued a bit, and, angrily, he set aside notions that she was currently nuzzling her face into his neck.

Such hopes will kill you, he told himself.

When her breath finally steadied, Alexander’s hand slipped off of her, moving back to rest on the arm of his chair, allowing her ample opportunity to remove herself from his lap, but she remained where she was. She was looking at his face, studying him for something with a look of great and serious pain in her green eyes. Then the color of them started to shift, their clarity wobbling as something slid over her irises.

Alexander winced and reached up, touching his fingers gently against her eyes. “Donna break your vow now, lass.”

When he pulled his fingers away, they were damp, but no tear seemed to have spilled. He let his fingers trace down her cheeks, carefully avoiding her purplish bruise. It was selfish to keep touching her like this, he knew it well. He just couldn’t resist it.

“I just do not know what to do,” Margaret whispered.

“If you tell me the truth,” he said, his voice soft yet stern, each word guarded from emotion, “I’ll be less likely to despise you. I’ll at least respect you.”

I’ll at least be able to recover from you, he thought.

“You have to understand,” she said, reaching up to wipe at her eyes before another tear could threaten to fall. “All my life, I have been the logical one. I am not a gambler, that is my brother.”

“You are an only child,” Alexander said, not sure why he felt the need to correct her.

“Listen to me!” she shouted. “For once, I am going to do what I want to do, rather than what is probably the correct answer, so can you please just listen?”

Alexander nodded, pressing his lips together, preparing himself for anything she could say.

I am in love with another.