The Imposter

by Jenna Stone

  “Kill me, Collin. I’m the cause of yer problems. Leave the lass be,” Devon said, blood dripping onto his linen shirt from the split in his lower lip.

  Devon’s eyes glanced in my direction, quickly, so as not to draw attention to the fact that I was again conscious. I followed the motion of his eyes, darting quickly back to Collin. Devon was urging me to take action. Cause a scene, a distraction so that at least he could have a chance to defend me. A chance to save us both.

  I remembered the dagger that he had given me, felt its solid weight in my stocking. Ever so slowly, I inched my hand down towards it, settling my hand around it, its blade hidden in the folds of my dress. Acting upon impulse, I sprung to my feet, dagger in hand. In one stealthy movement, I took my rage out on Collin, whose back was turned to me.

  I jumped on his back, swinging my arm and the dagger around his neck, and sliced as hard as I could. I intended to kill him. Blood poured from his neck soaking my hand, slippery and smelling of copper. I knew that I had hit my mark of the carotid artery, as Collin fell to his knees, holding his neck as blood profusely poured forth.

  My attack had allowed Devon the element of surprise. His captors had turned their back to Collin yet were still restraining Devon, allowing him the illusion of confronting his brother and raping his sister-in-law in privacy. Devon took advantage of the split second in which his captors let up their grasp on his arms, breaking free, and elbowing Matthew in the Adam’s apple. He grabbed Matthew’s fallen sword and spun in one fluid movement, the sword embedded halfway through Derrick’s neck. He spun again and slit Matthew’s throat.

  Dropping the sword, he ran to me. I stood paralyzed with shock, staring at Collin’s body. His eyes were now glossed over as the blood slowly drained from his body. I was frozen, still holding the bloody dagger in my right hand.

  “Nicely done, lass,” Devon said as he gathered me in his arms and crushed me against him. He wrenched the bloody dagger from my hand and cast it on the ground. He pulled me away from the warmth of his chest and held me at arms length, taking stock of my injuries. He tilted my chin from side to side, and examined the rope burn on my neck.

  My face was bloodied and bruised from Collin’s attack, and my hair fell in tangled masses about my shoulders. Without speaking, Devon again crushed me to his chest and I felt him place a kiss atop my head. I was consumed with shock, and couldn’t find the words to speak.

  The contrast between being Collin’s prisoner and now being safe in Devon’s arms was vast. A sob escaped from my throat. I didn’t recognize the sound as my own. The safety of Devon’s arms brought the situation crashing down on me and I promptly lost my composure and allowed myself to fall apart. I had killed a man. Not just any man. I had killed my husband’s brother, the Laird of Clan McClain.

  Devon held me solidly in his arms, smoothing my hair and making shushing noises against the top of my head.

  “Hush, love,” he whispered over and over. His breathing was labored and he shook with the emotion of the situation. He waited for the initial shock of the situation to pass, allowing me to process the fact that we were both now safe, if only for the moment. He drew me slowly away from him and wiped my tears away with his thumbs as he cupped my face in his hands. His green eyes were intense, questioning as his gaze loomed down on me, trying to figure out if I was going to be alright.

  He smiled slightly, “Ye did well, Kate. Yer a braw lass. Made me right proud.” Devon placed a chaste kiss on my lips, and said, “We need tae go now, I canna bear tae stay here for another minute.” He held my hand and dragged me towards the large sorrel stallion, hoisting me with him into the saddle.

  He settled me on his lap and wrapped his dirty cloak around me. The smell of his cloak caused me to lose my last shred of composure. It smelled of horse, dirt, and Devon, the man that I loved. The man that had been willing to give his life for mine. Fresh tears burned my cheeks, as the emotions boiled forth.

  As he kicked Stanley into motion, without a second look at the scene left behind us, I shouted out, “Wait! You’re not just planning to leave them there are you?”

  “Damn right, I am. Let this be a lesson to anyone that tries to separate us again. I want the message sent loud and clear that I doona take kindly tae my wife being endangered. Doona give my brother a second thought, Kate. This is what he asked for when he took ye from me.”

  Devon cradled my face with his hand, gently pressing my head against his solid chest. “Ye’ve been a braw lass today,” he said, and I knew that a slight smile spread across his face. “It’s alright to cry, love,” he soothed me as he stroked my matted hair. “Rest now, I’ll keep ye safe. Rest, Kate.”

  “Aren’t you going the wrong direction?” I asked, suddenly confused that Devon was going in the same direction that his brother had been taking me.

  “No, lass. We have a score to settle. I’ll not have us living in fear that ye’ll be discovered as not being Ms. Berkshire. My Da always said that even when the truth hurts it is always the best path to take.”

  “How much of the truth do you intend to tell them?” I questioned, realizing now that Devon intended to continue the journey to the Berkshire family lands.

  “Enough,” he said firmly. “Enough tae keep ye safe, and enough for them to realize that their daughter was killed. We owe them as much,” he said, holding me tightly against him. His words fell silently between us, insinuating that I would need to tell him the truth in order for him to pass a version of the truth on to the Berkshire family.

  Silence fell between us and I knew that Devon was thinking about exactly what he would tell the Berkshire family. I also believed that the truth was the best path to take, but how could they even fathom the truth? I was certain that Devon would come up with a version of the truth that would meet our needs, yet still give the family a sense of closure about their beloved daughter.

  The fact remained that I needed to tell Devon the whole truth so that he had more than just his faith and trust in me to work with. Dreading the thought of explaining my situation to Devon, I closed my eyes and let the rhythmic gait of the horse and the safety of my husband’s arms lull me to sleep.

  ***

  We rode hard, Devon pressed ever onward through the night, intent on reaching the Berkshire lands as quickly as humanly possible. When he could go no further, he slowed the horse and dismounted us both. He carried me in his arms, wrapped up securely in the warmth of his plaid. We didn’t speak as he carefully set me down and tethered Stanley to a nearby tree.

  There was a large rock wall to protect us from the elements, surrounded by the dense growth of trees. I settled myself on the ground, leaning against the rock wall, too tired to move. Devon continued setting up our rudimentary camp, gathering firewood and unrolling the horse’s blanket for us to sleep on. Soon, he had a fire crackling and he held out a hand in invitation to me, inviting me to come sit next to him.

  Next to him on the blanket was spread out a meager dinner of rolls and cheese, the sight of which made my stomach rumble. I smiled, mentally thanking Jaime for having the forethought to stock Stanley’s saddlebags with provisions.

  “Hungry?” he chuckled, handing me a roll. I devoured it silently, remembering that I had been without food for quite some time. Devon ate the other roll in silence and handed me the chunk of cheese, which I greedily finished.

  He grasped my hand, and looked directly into my eyes, searching, imploring me to tell him the truth. My warrior, so strong and so fierce in battle looked wounded, hurt. I hated myself for doing this to him, for making him look at me this way.

  “Who are ye, Kate? I think I deserve to know,” he said as a nervous smile flashed across his rugged face.

  I gulped, unsure of how to begin. Yes, he deserved to know, but how could I possibly expect him to believe me? I watched the firelight reflect on his dark skin, enhancing his chiseled features in the darkness of the night. His chestnut hair had grown slightly since I had last seen him, and the ends were just starting
to curl.

  “I’m Kate Elliot. That’s the easy part,” I forced the words out uneasily.

  “So yer name is Kate?” The effect of my lies resounded in the emphasis he placed on the word “is.” I knew that my lies had hurt Devon, and I hated myself for not finding a way to tell him the truth sooner.

  “Yes, that much is true. The rest, I’m afraid isn’t so easy,” I said as I met his gaze. “Promise me that you will believe me, Devon.” I implored as I looked into his green eyes. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you.”

  “I promise, Kate. I promise that I will believe ye,” he raked his hand through his hair, something he often did when he was unsure of how to proceed with a situation. I wondered what he thought that I would tell him. I wondered if he would ever be able to trust me again.

  “I’m sorry that I couldn’t tell you sooner. I hated myself for not telling you, but I was so afraid,” I cautioned as I stroked his hand, seeking to ease my nervousness. His touch was my anchor and his large calloused hand squeezed mine in encouragement. I took this as an unspoken gesture that he would try to believe the story that I was about to begin, even though he now had no reason to believe that the words I was about to speak would hold any ring of truth.

  “I’ll do my best,” he said, adding a small nervous smile of encouragement. He raked his fingers through his tousled chestnut hair and settled himself into a more comfortable position next to me by the fire. The firelight danced across his features, and I examined him openly, eyes tracing his handsome face, dwelling on his injuries from today, and taking stock of this man who was my husband.

  He was so physically strong. Muscles rippled under his linen shirt even as he sat relaxed next to me. His jaw was clenched, eyebrows knit together, and although he was trying to exude an air of calmness, of openness, I could tell from his body language that he was nervous. I noticed that his hair had grown slightly since I had last seen him. It was now long enough that he could tuck the beginnings of loose curls behind his ears. He was perfect and it broke my heart to think that I my lies were the cause of his turmoil.

  I wasn’t sure how to begin. There really wasn’t a way to sugarcoat this unbelievable story. “Remember when I told you about MacAllister?”

  A deep groan was the only response that Devon gave.

  “Well, everything that I told you about him was the truth, except that I left something important out.”

  Devon did not speak, did not ask questions. His eyes were cast down at our joined hands, watching his thumb move slowly back and forth across the back of my hand. It was apparent that he was expecting bad news.

  “My father loaded me aboard a ship and we were sailing north to carry through with my betrothal to MacAllister. I just couldn’t go through with it. I jumped overboard,” I said, swallowing hard as I remembered the terror of plunging into the dark Atlantic Ocean.

  Devon’s eyes flashed up in surprised disbelief. “And ye swam tae shore? Do ye ken how dangerous that was?” he glare was intimidating; he was scolding me for my carelessness.

  “Yes, I knew. I actually expected to die when I jumped into the ocean, but somehow I made it to shore. Death was a better alternative than being married to MacAllister.”

  “Jesus, Kate,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I hope that I never meet yer father, because I we ever do cross paths, I’ll kill the insensitive bastard.”

  “I worried about him for a long time. I worried that he might be looking for me, that he might somehow find me here,” I confessed, terror coursing through my veins as I thought about my father and his henchmen.

  “I suspect that he probably thinks that yer dead. Not many survive the grips of the Atlantic,” he said solemnly. “And if he did find ye, ye’ve nay need tae worry. Ye are safe here.”

  Relief shrouded me now. Devon still wants me. He’s going to forgive me, protect me from my father. I continued my story, encouraged by Devon’s remarks.

  “I stumbled upon Ms. Berkshire’s coach as when I reached the shore, trying to find someone to help me. They were already dead. There was nothing that I could do for them. My shift was shredded from the ocean, and I took a dress from the coach. I went back into the forest to put it on.” I glanced up at Devon’s face, looking for a reaction.

  His expression was unchanged and I dropped my eyes back to our hands, continuing to fidget with his well boned fingers. “Nathan found me in the forest. I was walking back to the coach to see if there was any food left behind. He asked me what my name was, and I told him it was Kate, and he assumed that I was Kate Berkshire, and……”

  “And the rest is history,” he finished my sentence.

  “I wish that I could have told you sooner, Devon. I wanted to tell you the truth, but I didn’t know how. I was so afraid that you would leave me,” I looked up, lip trembling and searched his face for a response.

  “I could never leave ye, Kate,” he said simply.

  “I love you and I don’t want to keep secrets from you.”

  “I wish that ye could have told me sooner too,” he said, considering what I had just revealed. “I understand yer reasons for not telling me, I ken that ye had reason tae be afraid.”

  “I hated lying to you. I wanted to tell you so badly.” I said with sincerity.

  “Yer story explains many things. Ye’ve been through quite a trial. And tae be forced tae marry me on top of it all!”

  “I know it sounds crazy, but Devon, you have to believe me. I promise you from the bottom of my heart that it’s the truth,” I said quietly, looking up at him to gauge his reaction.

  I wondered if he could ever trust me again.

  Please, please let him forgive me. Let him give me another chance.

  “I believe ye. It does sound crazy, but what choice do I have but tae believe ye? Either I’m marrit to a lunatic or yer telling the truth,” he responded. “Whatever it is, lunatic or no, I’m happy that yer here,” he said, removing his hand from mine and placing his arm around me, drawing me closer to him. “Please doona lie tae me again, Kate,” he said, his tone harsh yet forgiving. “I need tae trust ye in all matters.”

  “I’ll never lie to you again,” I promised sincerely. “I’m so sorry.”

  We sat silently for a few breaths, trying to process what had just passed between us. I leaned my head to rest it upon Devon’s shoulder, enjoying his warmth as the firelight danced in front of me. The contrast of my husband’s warmth in comparison to the cold lonely ground that I had endured last night was vast.

  “Frankly, Kate, I don’t care if ye tell me that ye came from the moon. I’d love ye just the same. I love you, a chuisle mo chroi,” he whispered, reaching up his hand to cup my face.

  “I love you too,” I said sincerely, smiling as I looked into his green eyes. “When I first got here, I was terrified. I wanted to escape,” I confessed, my fingers rubbing the woolen fabric of his kilt to help the words come forth. “But then, when I found you, I felt hope kindle inside me, there was an immediate connection that I felt when I saw you,” I said looking up from my fingers to meet his patient gaze. “I felt it the very first time when I saw you and I stitched you up in the great hall.”

  “Even though I was a drunken asshole?” he said laughing under his breath.

  “Even though you were a drunken asshole,” I smiled, remembering our first encounter in the great hall.

  “Is that why ye kissed me after ye finished stitching me up when ye thought I was asleep? Or was it because ye thought that I was sae handsome that ye couldna keep yer hands off me, and had tae hold back from lifting my kilt and taking advantage of me right there on that table in the hall?”

  I laughed so unexpectedly that I snorted in a very un-ladylike fashion.

  “I don’t know why I kissed you! It was just a peck on the forehead!” I said defending myself.

  “I’ll choose tae believe that ye wanted tae take advantage of me and that’s why ye couldna hold back from kissing me against my will.”

&nb
sp; “Against your will?” I said incredulously.

  “Nae, I’m just teasing ye, lass. But with all honesty, remember the next day when I came and spoke with ye in the garden, when ye checked my shoulder?”

  “Yes, of course I remember that,” I said smiling as I thought back. “You were pretending as though it didn’t hurt very bad, trying to be all manly and tough and I could tell that it hurt a lot more that you were willing to admit.”

  “Well, maybe it did hurt a bit more than I let on,” he smiled sheepishly. “But when ye ran yer wee fingers over my chest and ye looked at me sae intensely with those big blue eyes, it took ever thread of composure that I had no tae kiss ye right then. Hell, I wanted tae do more than kiss ye, I wanted tae….”

  “And here I thought you were such a gentleman!” I interrupted, giggling at his admission that he had been so attracted to me right from the very start.

  I leaned my head against his shoulder and looked into the fire, enjoying being close to Devon, laughing and talking.

  “I’m glad that I jumped into the ocean. Maybe I was meant to end up here, here with you,” I said nostalgically as I watched the fire and toyed with the small hairs at the base of his skull.

  “I’m glad that it happened too. You’ve been the greatest gift of my life,” he said, leaning forward and kissing me softly. “I need ye, Kate. I need tae ken that yer safe, that yer whole,” he whispered, a growing sense of urgency in his deep voice.

  “I need you too,” I whispered in response, kissing him back and pressing my body against the length of his, matching his desire to come together as one.

  “I doona think that I can be gentle, at least no the first time, and I’m sorry for that,” he said, already rucking up my dress and moving his kilt out of the way, ravenous with his need to be inside of me.

  “I don’t want you to be gentle,” I admitted, as crazed as he was to be joined together. I needed to feel him inside me to be sure that this was real, that we were both alive and safe together. I needed to know that he loved me still, even now that he knew my secret.