Page 63 of Desire of a Highlander

Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, let me think? Perhaps because I’ve been lying to you from the beginning?”

He picked at a thread on his plaid. “We all have secrets.”

“I think my secret might be a bit bigger than most.”

He snorted a laugh. “Aye, lass, I’ll give ye that. It was definitely bigger than most.”

She had told him everything, laid out her vulnerability, trusted him with the truth about her. Could he not do the same?

“Ye asked why Faye and I have been arguing,” he began, his voice low and hesitant. “It’s not something I talk about easily.”

“It’s okay, Ronan. You don’t have to tell me.”

“But I want to.” He met her gaze. “It’s...complicated. And linked to things I’d rather forget.” He began picking at another thread on his plaid, trying to find the best way to frame his thoughts. “Ye were right, I’m not a blacksmith. Or not just a blacksmith. My father was Duncan Campbell, the Earl of Newborough.”

Elodie inhaled sharply. “An earl? Your dad was an earl?”

He nodded. “It wasnae as grand as it sounds. I already told ye I had brothers. Four of them. So I was a spare and always marked for the military.” He tore the thread out of his plaid and tossed it away. “But when my parents died, everything changed. My eldest brother, Bryce, inherited the earldom but the rest of the estate was to be split between all of us, every one of us getting our share. But that wasnae good enough for Bryce. He wanted it all. My lands. My brothers’ lands. All of it.” He glanced at her. “I’m sure ye can guess what happened?”

“You told me that you began arguing.”

He snorted. “That’s a polite way of putting it. There were meetings with lawyers. Threats. Accusations and counter accusations. Every week another quarrel.” His voice had become flat. Emotionless. As though recounting another man’s life.

“One day Bryce came to my lands, bringing armed men, and demanded I surrender everything. I refused.” He closed his eyes. “I remember drawing my dagger. Shouting. I remember...losing myself.”

His fingers curled involuntarily. “I stabbed him. I didn’t even know what I’d done until I saw him fall.”

Elodie said not a word but he could feel the weight of her stare even though he dare not look at her.

“Somehow I’d become exactly what I despised,” he continued. “Land, wealth, power. They were never things I’d wanted. And yet I’d almost killed my own brother in pursuit of them. So I let Bryce take everything and rode away. I wandered until eventually I found Faye. Or rather, she found me.” He looked across the clearing. “I swore I’d never lift a weapon again. And now look at me.” He held out both hands and examined his palms as though he could see blood covering them. “They’re stained all over again.”

Elodie’s hand slipped into his. “Don’t do this to yourself. You don’t understand your own worth.”

He shook his head. “I understand it well enough.”

“No. You really don’t.” She shifted closer. “I’ve watched you since the day I met you. You rescue strangers. You build homes. You repair tools. You carry burdens nobody else even notices.” Her grip on his hand tightened. “You think stabbing your brother defines you? It doesn’t. It was a terrible act, yes, but if you ask me, you’ve more than made up for it. We all make mistakes. We all do things we wish we hadn’t. I’ve met plenty of truly rotten people. They never lose sleep over their decisions. They never question themselves. They certainly don’t abandon titles and fortunes just to avoid conflict.”

His chest tightened painfully. “But I’ve failed these people. And I don’t know what to do to save them. That’s why Faye and I keep arguing. The Steading is no longer safe and Faye wants me to take our people away from here, wants me to reclaim my old lands and take our people there.”

“But you don’t want to?”

He shook his head. “No, I dinna want to. I swore I would never go back. I swore I would never live that life again, be that kind of man again. I...I dinna want to become him again, Elodie. I dinna want to become the man good for nothing but violence. The man who almost killed his own brother.”

“You’re not that kind of man,” Elodie insisted. “Why can’t you see that?”

“But I—”

She silenced him by placing a finger gently against his lips. “Do you think I would love that kind of man?”

The words slammed into him like a hammer blow. Ronan stared at her in shock.

Love.

Could that be true? Did she really—?

“Elodie...”

She smiled wryly then lifted her chin and met his gaze defiantly. “Oops. The cat is out of the bag now isn’t it? I don’t know when it happened, but yes. Ronan Campbell, I think I’m hopelessly and completely in love with you.”