Page 111 of Claimed By a Ruthless Scot
Duncan drew a slow breath. “She believes I have deceived her.”
“Then prove her wrong,” Iain countered.
There was no hesitation in it. Duncan held his gaze a moment longer, then gave a short nod. He turned without another word, and knew that whatever remained to be done, he would not delay again.
He crossed the yard with such speed that several of the men turned at his passing, though he neither saw nor cared. The air struck sharp against his face, cool with the fading day, yet it did nothing to steady the heat that had risen within him. One thought alone pressed upon him with intolerable force. That she might already be gone.
The corridors seemed longer than usual and the stone passages close and airless, lit by the waning gold of afternoon filtering through narrow windows. His boots struck hard against the floors as he took each turn with barely checked urgency, his mind advancing before him to what he might find. By the timehe reached her chambers, his breath had begun to shorten, though whether from haste or dread he could not have said.
He did not knock. The door opened beneath his hand at once, and he crossed the threshold breathless.
She was there.
The relief of it came so fiercely that for one disordered instant it was almost pain. Yet it was gone again the next.
Elaina was standing in the midst of the room, surrounded by the visible signs of planned departure. Drawers had been opened and left ajar. Garments lay in disordered folds across the bed, and her small case stood upon the chair, already half-filled.
She was not merely upset. She wasleaving.
The sight stopped him.
For a moment, he could only stand there, with one hand still upon the open door, while his whole being was seized by the dreadful certainty of how near he had come to losing her without explanation, without forgiveness, perhaps without another word.
She turned at the sound of his entrance.
There was color in her cheeks, but not from softness. Her eyes, wide a moment before, hardened as soon as they met his, and the hand in which she held one of her gowns tightened upon the fabric.
Duncan had faced armed men with less disquiet than he felt beneath that look.
“Elaina,” he said, though the name came rougher than he intended, because his breath was not yet fully mastered.
She did not answer.
The room held the faint scent of lavender from the linens, mingled now with the sharper disturbance of opened trunks and unsettled air. The fire had burned low. One of the curtains stirred at the window, and in that slight movement, in the quiet disorder of the chamber, he felt as though he had intruded not merely upon her packing, but upon the collapse of every hope he had foolishly imagined secure.
“Ye mean tae leave,” he said at last, though the evidence of it stood before him plainly enough.
Her chin lifted rebelliously. “Did ye imagine I would stay?”
There was no violence in her tone. That might almost have been easier to bear. What cut him instead was its restraint, the chill composure of a woman who had already suffered enough to expect betrayal where she had once permitted herself trust.
Duncan took a step into the room, then another, without getting too close.
“I should have told ye,” he admitted in words that lacked defense or ornament. “Before today, before ye had any cause tae hear it from a conversation that didnae include ye.”
Her expression did not soften. Not that he expected it to.
“Aye,” she replied. “Ye should have.”
He accepted the rebuke without protest. He had earned it.
“I did nae tell ye because I did nae think Fraser’s offer mattered beside what I had already decided.”
At that, a bitter little laugh escaped her. It was so slight a sound, yet it struck him with all the force of accusation.
“Didnae matter?” she repeated. “Me faither offering ye an alliance through marriage didnae matter?”
“Nae fer the reason I asked ye,” Duncan said, more urgently now, feeling time narrow around him. “Nae in the least. When I received it, I didnae even ken yet who ye were, but I already had feelings fer ye, which is why I never answered him.”
