“Come to the feast.”
She shook her head and sniffled.
Portia wished she possessed the words to soothe her, instead, she grasped both her hands. “I count you as a friend so I will tell you not to let the pain come between you and the man you love. You will only have more pain.”
“Is that what you do with the laird?”
“Alec?” Portia dropped her hands.
“Aye, you love him and he, you. You seem surprised.” She rested her hand on her hip.
“Alec doesn’t love me.” She shook her head repeatedly.
Cairine smiled. “I see you haven’t denied your feelings.”
“I care for him. How could I not after all he has done. Truthfully, I loved once and lost.”
“And received another chance at it,” Cairine added. “What do you plan to do?”
* * * *
Portia dawdled outside the chamber door. Each sound made her jump, ready for his arrival. She tapped her feet together and fanned herself from the growing heat. Alec should have returned. She had sent the kitchen boy after him when the candles had been lit, now they were a quarter burnt away. She had counted to a hundred, named the saints she remembered, listed the kings of England. No Alec.
She stomped to the stairs and cocked an ear. Only the licking flames of the torch light cracked as the light played against the wall. She moved to the stairs, took a step down then another until she was halfway down. The everyday sounds of the castle reached her. When she was ready to go get her husband, she heard the castle dogs bark and his rich voice greeting each by name.
He had arrived. His warm burr chased after her as she picked up her skirts and sprinted back to her spot. She smoothed out her plaid, straightened her hair and smiled. Then stopped. She put on her serene face. Beneath it, she jumped and her legs shook from impatience. The man needed to hurry up.
Alec came around the corner. Drawing on her rapidly dwindling will, she hadn’t jumped on him. He slowed upon seeing her. He gave her that questioning look where his brows lifted in to a mountain peak, shadowing the amber spark in his green eyes. The corner of his mouth quirked upward.
She loved that look. Truth was it stirred wicked feelings in her. At the very least, hug him tight and plant kisses all over him.
“Have you summoned me for a kiss?” He swaggered toward her.
She stretched out her hand and wiggled her fingers for him to take it. He wove their fingers together and followed her inside. “Silence, hmmm.”
Alec locked his eyes on her. His hooded eyes grew heavy, casting a sensual promise across his face to worship every inch of her flesh. She danced away from his grasping hands, only to be grabbed by the waist and hauled against him. She landed with an oomph. With her arms pinned against his chest, she gave him a gnat bite of a slap that had no effect.
“Continue to call me for me like this and I shall rush right to your side.”
He ran his hands over the small of her back, arching her closer to him. She rose on her toes when he gripped a handful of her buttocks. She turned her face before he could claim her mouth or she’d let him love her. Oh, how she wanted it.
“Naughty husband, I—” Burying his nose in her neck, he nipped, suckled and licked the fine flesh just under her ear. He snagged his fingers in her hair.
“You smell so good.” The bass of his words stirred a shiver through her. She tilted her head, losing herself in the heavenly feel of his lips.
“Nay, Alec. Not now.” She pushed against him.
“You are wrong. You need to rest and I must help you disrobe.” He slipped his hand under her skirt. His other hand reached for her belt.
“How many hands do you have?” She shoved at his fast hands before they traveled too high on her thigh.
“Enough to strip you.”
Her ears heated. Her lashes fell and all resistance faded away. She moaned deep in her throat. Oh Lord, she was losing this fight and her body was betraying her. Her breasts grew heavy, begging for his attention. And her nipples hardened. He slipped a hand between her legs. She backed up. He caught her.
Backing up to the bed, she remembered the reason for him being here. “Alec.” She squirmed out his arms. “I brought you here for something else.”
“After, my love.”
Her heart clenched, soaring at his endearment. He mustn’t have known what he said. “Nay, later, I insist.”
“Show me, quickly.”
She looked around the chamber. He stared at her. She flapped her arms about for no reason. He only continued to stare. She slumped when he buried his head against the new bed curtains before he faced her. He pushed down his erection. A lengthy moment drew out before he took in the chamber. He crossed to the chairs before the table.
“These are new.” He inspected the simple back chairs and patted the red and green plaid cushions. The yellow border shined against the rich hues.
“I upholstered them in the everyday Cameron plaid. This is our place where we leave the outside world behind. Here we are husband and wife.”
His weapons hung from the wall, including a bear pelt. “I see you moved my belongings in here.” Spaced evenly on the table were various brooches and rings, including a large red stone with the Cameron badge in gold.
“There wasn’t much.”
He touched each item then replaced each one in its spot. She lingered behind, watching his expressionless face.
He lifted the wooden statue of a unicorn and lion.
“England and Scotland.”
“Great workmanship,” he said, not knowing what to say.
She kept her attention on him, waiting for a reaction. She had never seen him so detached from the world around him. He must have hated it.
She almost screamed for him to say something when he cut to the bed then passed by it.
He stiffened at the clock. His neck muscles were blade straight.
“It deserves a place of honor. My mother presented me gifts upon my wedding that were…I imagine your mother loved it. I’m bewitched by it.”
“She did.” He hooked his forefinger on the crank. “Why did you do this?”
Her tongue stumbled over the answer. “You are laird yet you do not believe it. The time is now for you to lead this clan and be laird to Clan Cameron and me lairdess. We need a chamber to show that.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I wasn’t meant to be. I was to be chieftain and Ronan my commander. This position reminds me of my father, an evil bastard that I never liked.”
She ought to seal her mouth and let the topic die. “Talk is that you killed him.”
“Do you believe that?” He spun toward her.
“Never.” Her answer relaxed his jaw.
He paced a tight circle. She waited for him to run his hands through his hair. His head moved from side to side, debating in his own mind. He gave a soft shake of his head. “I wanted to and I made his last days hell. I should have cut his head off. He deserved that.”
“But you don’t deserve walking this earth burdened by the act. Do you not understand Alec?” She rushed to his side. “You were laird since the day you thought of the clan.”
“I refuse to be like him.”
“And you are not. You couldn’t stay in this room because it displayed the Laird of Lochaber’s wealth not the clan’s. You know the members by their names and more than that you know their lives. You married an English lady to protect her. Alec, now is our beginning. Leave the past there. It’s dampening our lives.” She snaked her arms around his waist. He rested his chin atop her head. Her lifetime could and should be spent in his arms, this close to him. She loved the man. The emotion filled her, making her brave in a way she had never felt in her life.
She licked her lips. Unable to stop herself, she said, “I love you.”
Alec lifted his head as his hold loosened. He tucked his arms to the side and refused to meet her eyes. She went numb. She stayed on her feet when her body was ready to collapse. All of h
er felt as if she was shrinking, never had she felt this small. She blinked until she was dizzy or was it the other way around? She forced herself to look upon him. He didn’t feel the same. Alec leaned on the back of his heels, putting a distance between them.
“Love distorts a man.” The hard planes of his face were stark.
“You truly believe that.” Her voice hardened. He did and his agreement pierced her, deeper than any knife cut Arthur afflicted on her.
She stumbled backward to get away from him and his rejection.
“I care for you, Portia.” He clasped her arm. She flicked off his hold. “Do not think otherwise but I have learned love, especially love given then snatched away, can sour a man.”
“Will I be snatched away?” Her question bounced off the walls.
“I could fail. I may not be able to protect you then what?” His face whitened. He gulped.
“You are afraid.”
He flinched. “Nay, just sensible. Look at what has happened to you. You lost the man you loved and aye, I know you loved him. I saw the pain of his loss grace your face. You bear the scars of his lost love.”
“These scars come for an evil man who cannot love. Do you truly wish for a life empty of such an emotion?”
“Naught if I can avoid it, however, I do not wish for the pain that comes from losing you. That could happen. Mackintosh plans to kill you, along with the baron. Disease could take you or as many women depart from this plane, childbirth. I fear the man I will become if I lose the woman I love.” He reached for her. “I shall always care for you.”
With a weakness and a deep yearning, she almost allowed his touch and only pulled back, remembering herself.
“You think to throw away my love then offer me scant comfort. I do not want it. Save it for those in need.”
Alec bowed his head then turned and left the room. She flinched at the hollow click of the lock falling into place. She didn’t throw herself on the bed and weep. Stephen had gladly accepted her love and returned it as freely whereas Alec had blocked himself against it.
She went to window and spotted him crossing the bailey. She wanted to heap curses upon his head. Then the heartache of rejection cleared. Alec did love her. He feared losing her and becoming the man he hated.
She must show him that cruelty didn’t exist in him. After all, a man who stood guard over a woman then wed her to keep her safe had to possess a heart capable of love. He was afraid as she had been.
So how did she make the stubborn fool of a man face his fears?
Chapter Thirteen
Alec kicked at the wall. He cursed his father. He learned the lesson he beat into him.
Why did he learn it yet Ailsa did not?
Ailsa never shielded her heart, freely loving all. But him, damn, he could not give it to anyone.
Hell, he wished for nothing more than to love Portia. To see the joy Ailsa wore every day, to feel the happiness Duncan possessed. Though Duncan tried to hide it. Never had he thought to hurt Portia. That was a promise he had given freely when she laid in his arms, fighting for her life.
If anyone deserved love, Portia did. She had opened his world, helped him be the man he was supposed to be, a better man. Was that what he always wanted to be? A better man than his father. He lacked the ability to love. Truth was, if not for her, he would have floundered. He was man enough to admit that. He was an arse.
Needing to work off this simmering anger, he rushed to the training fields. Men crowded the fields, practicing their sword work. He snatched up a training sword. The weight was double of a claymore he kept at his side, just what he needed so he could just collapse and not feel worse than the lowest of men, which he knew he was.
He removed his claymore as he said, “Who will be first to show me what you have learned?” He motioned to the men with the blunt edge of the sword.
The men raised their hands, each crying out to be chosen. Alec pointed the blunt edge to the largest one on the field. “You.”
The others cleared a path for Finn and cuffed him on the back as he swaggered forward.
“Remember. Brawn doesn’t always guarantee a defeat.”
Finn took his stance. His muscles flexed from the weight. His scarcely hair-covered face fixed in hard concentration. “You need to develop your strength.”
The rest of the men chanted his name. Finn nodded then charged at Alec. He sidestepped him and cracked him on his arse with the flat of the blade. “You let me know what you were going to do. Again.”
He swung the sword. Alec shoved him back. “Make me fight your fight.”
He raced forward again. His sword arced over his shoulder to strike a blow. This time, Alec stayed in place. “I’m not a stake. Move, make me move use the space about us.” Alec pushed him back toward the hole in the ground. Finn fell back but he held on to his weapon.
“Use the earth, know the field.” Alec gave him a hand up. “Next.”
This time the boys hesitated. “You come.” Though Braden lacked the brawn of Finn, he was still cut and had developed the muscle to fight for his clan.
Alec rushed him. Braden thrust his sword upward.
“Use your legs,” Alec said.
Braden used more of the space. A sweat broke across Alec’s brow. With one hand Braden held his sword and with the other he swung out his arm, catching Alec in the ribs.
“Use the attack. Never lessen it. Your life depends on it.”
One by one, he fought Cian, Donal, Cathal, and Artan—parrying, thrusting, pushing, punching, kicking—and still he hadn’t burned away his turmoil. His liene was drenched and his hair stuck to his face. He could feel the heat wafting off him. Even without the blood, this training session felt like war.
His body was fatigued, yet his thoughts returned to Portia. She loved him. That he felt a vigor that should have burned away his exhaustion meant nothing. Sure, his father had felt the same way, speaking of his love
Kegan came forward and Alec lost himself in the training. His body burned from the effort. Some of his tension burned away but most still lingered within him. After knocking Leith to the ground, he threw the sword among the others. He made his way to the shore away from the castle.
The loch air blew against him. He shed his clothing and dove beneath the surface. The frigid water cooled him instantly and washed away the grime coating him. The water did nothing to cleanse away his thoughts.
He broke the surface and spotted his commanders standing at the water’s edge. He swam to shore and walked out. He donned his shirt, letting it dry him, and then his plaid.
“Great training today,” Quinlan said.
“So what was the reason behind it?” Hurley crossed his arms over his chest.
“Portia loves me.” He shook off the water weighing down his hair.
“And that’s not great.” Hurley rolled his eyes. Quinlan sucked his teeth.
“You’re always saying you don’t want to be your father.” Quinlan started. “We know your father would have embarrassed those boys, unlike you did. They have become better soldiers for it. What is the real problem?”
“You forget yourself, Quinlan.” The cool authority in his voice belied the rage in his gut.
“It’s you who does, Alec.” Hurley spoke with a frankness that only he could without losing his head.
“What if Portia dies? The danger to her life is great.” He stopped before he revealed the truth. He could not be the man he was, with his heart and life closed off. Portia made him feel. He couldn’t lose that.
“What if she leads a long life and outlives you?” Hurley tossed back in his face.
“Alec, I have seen you face overpowering forces that were sure to pound you into the ground. Yet, you fear the one thing that a Sassenach has faced and after the horrors that were afflicted upon her.”
“Quinlan, shut up.”
“You are denying yourself something that can fulfill your life.”
“Like you are. Cairine and you are in separate be
ds. Why don’t you go to her and tell her your fears of losing her?”
“Aye, I fear losing her. But I love her. That is enough. That was why she chose me because I loved her whereas you denied her that.”
Alec punched Quinlan in face. Hurley jumped between them before Quinlan landed his own blow.
“Quinlan’s right. Stop with this foolishness and love your wife. And damn to what will be.”
* * * *
Alec strolled up the tract. The castle dominated the vista and his thoughts. The feast was tonight and he had a duty to be at his wife’s side.
“Laird,” Cairine said.
He greeted her and for a couple of steps continued on his way then he turned around and called out to her. She turned around and waited for him to speak.
He cleared his throat. There was no way for him to find the answers he sought without prying so he asked, “Why did you choose Quinlan?”
She slanted her head before she chuckled. “He loves me.”
“And I didn’t.”
She shrugged. “You cared for me, but a lass wants more. Why do you ask, Alec?” She came forward, not letting him escape her question.
He didn’t answer her, instead posed a question of his own. “Then why do you stay away from him? Did your love die?”
Was that his real fear? He had known he had shared more with his father than he cared to admit. The death of his mother changed him too. The loss of love, having it snatched away and feeling the heartbreak froze him, left him hollow. Yet, he had never once felt the loss of his mother’s love. It was still within him as powerful as he had felt as a boy.
“Never.” She was insulted. “My reason for staying away was for my personal pain. One I afflicted upon Quinlan. I don’t know how to correct. I have to do something and I will act.”
“You are sure all will be well after?” He stiffened, waiting for her answer.
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