“I will not be”—she had to pause for a
breath as the pain continued to radiate down her leg—”touched until
I am ready.”
Ian looked to Royce. “She cannot continue to
lie here. The ground is cold and damp and will do her no good.”
“Ian is right,” Moira said, joining her
husband at his side. “She will suffer a chill, and that often
brings on the fever.”
Royce needed to hear no more. He leaned down
close so that Brianna could only hear his words. “Show me your
determination.”
She realized his intention and agreed with a
bare nod.
He spared her no time to consider the wisdom
of his actions; he scooped her up in one solid swing into his
arms.
She bit back her cry and fought to hold firm
to her tears, and she immediately buried her face against his
chest.
“Cry if you wish,” he whispered, pressing
his face to hers. “Even the mightiest warrior sheds tears when he
feels pain.”
“Have you cried?” she asked her arms tight
around his neck.
He did not answer, and she patiently allowed
him his silence.
His answer came slowly. “Everyone cries
sometime in his life.”
The pain became suddenly unimportant. The
fact that the legendary Royce Campbell had cried one time in his
life was important. You had to have feelings to cry, and to have
feelings you had to have a heart.
They neared the keep and she lifted her
head, her eyes glistening with tears yet to be shed. “You have
cried.”
He had thought her a beauty, but at that
moment, with the tears sparkling in her brilliant blue eyes, her
flushed and damp cheeks, her dark hair out of control from her
ordeal, and the tender understanding in her voice, he never thought
her more beautiful. And his heart raced at the fact that she
belonged to him. He loved her so much that it hurt him to think of
ever being without her.
They entered the keep.
“Will you tell me?” She did not demand, she
simply requested, and she wished that all who followed behind them
would go away and leave them alone. This was a private moment.
“Will you tell me why you ran?” He carried
her up the steps to her bedchamber.
Soon they would not be alone, and neither of
them would have their answers.
“Freedom,” she whispered and laid her head
on his shoulder.
He nodded. “I understand.”
And with those words he entered her
bedchamber and with a solid jolt of his boot-clad foot sent the
door slamming behind them.
“Can we be free together?”
She stared at him for a moment, his scar
bright red and frightening the way it consumed the one side of his
face.
It made one wonder how he lived through such
a horrific ordeal or made one think how skilled a warrior he must
be to have survived. And yet what she truly saw was a man with a
tender heart who wanted to be free with her and only her.
She smiled and placed her cheek against his
scarred one. “I would like that.”
Brianna heard her brother protest right
outside the door, but a gentler tone calmed him and she knew that
Moira had things in hand.
“Please ease me to my feet?” Brianna asked
of him.
“The pain has eased and I wish to see if I
can walk without discomfort.”
Royce seemed reluctant to comply with her
request. “Are you certain that is wise?”
“Nay,” she answered honestly, “but it is
what I feel I need to do.”
Royce understood. Sometimes you had to tempt
fate.
“I will be right beside you.”
She placed a hand to his cheek and wished
with all her heart to ask,
Always will you be beside me?
Instead she simply nodded.
He saw the wounded look in her brilliant
blue eyes, and his heart ached. How did he convince her that he
loved her that every word he had spoken to her had been from his
heart?
She had no difficulty standing, though a
dull ache reminded her that she had foolishly run when she was not
yet fully healed. In time the pain would be gone for good, but the
ache in her heart? She did not think would ever go away.
Royce slipped her cloak off her shoulders.
“You should rest.”
Brianna looked to the bed and recalled how
he had held her in his arms last night, and whenever she turned or
fussed, his hands were there to soothe her. She wanted him, but she
also wanted to trust him without doubt. She needed that from him,
she needed it for herself.
She walked to the chair by the hearth and
slowly eased herself down to sit.
Royce did not offer his help; she would only
refuse it.
She needed a sense of freedom, and he would
give it to her for he himself felt the same.
“I answered your question; will you now
answer mine?” she asked and leaned back in the chair.
He walked to the bed and snatched the folded
wool blanket from the end. He placed it over Brianna’s lap, tucking
it in around her. He sat down on the floor in front of her and
began to remove her leather boots.
He seemed to concentrate on every movement
he made, his touch firm yet gentle, and she did not disturb him.
She waited for him to speak, for she was certain he would.
His strong fingers rubbed her cold feet; his
thumbs massaged her insteps and soles until she felt completely
relaxed and rested her head back against the chair.
“My grandmother was a wise woman and taught
me about strength and fairness. She understood things many did not
and saw much more than most. She talked to me endlessly about life
and its constant joys and disappointments, and she talked of people
and how easy it was to know if one was friend or foe.”
“I would have loved to have met her,” she
said, knowing his grandmother had passed on.
He smiled, glancing up at her, and his
fingers stilled for just a moment. “She would have loved you, and
she would have been happy that you were to be my wife.”
She did not argue with him; now was not the
time.
“I was a grown man when she died, but her
death tore at my heart, and it was the one and only time I have
ever cried, and I did so alone, where no one would see me or judge
me as weak.”
“It is not weak to shed tears for someone
you love.”
“When you lead men, you show no fear and
spill no tears.”
“When you love, there are no rules; you
simply follow your heart.”
He laughed softly. “You sound as wise as my
grandmother.”
Brianna wished to hear more about her. “She
raised you?”
He nodded. “My parents passed within a short
time of each other, and I have no siblings. I was young and eager
to lead the clan, but my grandmother had other ideas. She told me
that I had lessons to learn before I could be a strong and
effective leader. She made it known to the clan that peace would
prevail; no battles would be fought, until I gained in knowledge
and strength.”
“No one objected?”
He grinned. “No one argued with my
grandmother.”
Brianna grew excited, sitting up in the
chair to hear more. “She was a leader herself.”
“Aye, that she was, and a good and fair one.
She understood the way of things and people. She taught me what it
meant to lead a clan wisely.”
He paused in thought, and she knew he was
recalling memories.
“And she loved me with all her heart.”
Brianna spilled the tears that Royce would
not now allow himself to spill. She sympathized for him, for she
understood the pain of losing parents, especially ones who were so
good and loving.
Royce looked up at Brianna. “She would tell
me every day that she loved me, for she warned me that one never
knows what the day may bring.”
Her heart suddenly ached for him and for her
and for the love that she was not certain they would ever get to
share.
He raised himself on bended knees in front
of her. “I love you, Brianna, you must always remember that, always
keep it in your heart. I love you and I will never stop loving
you.”
Her reply was an eager whisper of his name.
“Royce.”
He came to her as he always did when she
called to him with urgency, and it took only moments for him to
gather her up into his arms and walk to the bed.
“Stop me now if this is not what you
want.”
He gave her a choice. He always gave her a
choice, and she made the choice easily. “I want this.”
Royce had them both undresses in mere
minutes, and it was with tender hands that he caressed her body. It
was a soft and lazy touch that titillated and thrilled and caused
her to completely lose her senses.
There was not a spot of flesh he did not
touch. He ran the pads of his fingers over every inch of her with a
delicate touch that drove her wild. Her body responded, moving
against him like a woman hungry to quench her thirst.
She did not think and she did not care for
anything except the two of them and what they shared. He touched
her with an intimacy she had not known existed and now that she
did, she wondered how she could ever function normally again.
His hands heated her flesh until she thought
she would go mad for the want of him. She hugged his muscled arms
and then pushed at them as if denying her own desires, though it
did little good for it only made him respond more ardently.
“What are you doing to me?” she asked with
labored breath.
He whispered his response with a nibble to
her neck. “I am making love to you.”
She wanted to rejoice, for she had not
thought she would ever know the joys of love.
He suckled at her breasts until she thought
she would lose her wits, and when his hands moved to intimately
caress her, she cried out with the want of him. It was a fast and
furious coupling, as though they could not get enough of each
other, as though this was their last time together, as though they
were saying good-bye, and Brianna climaxed with tears.
“It is not over between you and me,” Royce
said, kissing her tears away.
“I cannot give you a child.” Her voice was
full of regret.
He lay beside her, his hand moving to splay
over her flat stomach. “I have no doubt that my child nestles
within you.”
Her tears spilled freely and she did not
care, for she hoped with all her heart that he spoke the truth.
Unfortunately, she knew otherwise, and therefore the tears refused
to stop.
He kissed them away as he had done before.
“We will wed upon my return.”
He was so sure, but then here she was, lying
in his arms after having made love with him. What did she expect
him to think?
“We will wed,” he reaffirmed adamantly.
“If it were that easy.”
“It is. Accept it so that we may begin our
life together.”
He brushed her cheek with his. “A very long
life.”
She thought to protest, but it would do
little good. He thought himself right, and there would be no
changing his mind. Time would tell, and then she would have a
decision to make.
Wed him or let him go.
She continued to struggle with the fact that
he had not told her the truth. But if truth were told, he had
simply avoided the truth. He had not lied to her. She had assumed
him a simple warrior with no particular clan ties. She had been the
foolish one, though he had not treated her like a fool. He had
encouraged her and had given her choices.
“You are silent. What troubles you?” he
asked, hugging her against him.
‘Too many things to speak of.”
“Too many things you are unwilling to speak
of.”
“Can I not have a private thought from you?”
she asked.
“There is no need for private thoughts
between us. We are one, you and I, and can discuss whatever is on
our minds.”
“Good,” she said with a challenge. ‘Tell me
of the battle that left you scarred.”
Her question was one more of trust. Would he
share with her his pain as she had done?
His hesitation was brief and he took a deep
breath as though he needed confidence to relate the tale. “It was a
battle that should not have been fought. The deaths were senseless,
the suffering just as senseless, and all because of greed and
power.”
He sounded tired to her, not physically but
emotionally, and she listened, knowing he needed to heal within, as
she had once needed to do.
“My father had given his word many years
ago, and I was compelled to honor it. I had no choice, though I
attempted to convince the laird of this clan otherwise. He was a
man full of rage and would not listen to reason.”
He stroked her arm, needing to feel her soft
flesh as he spoke. “I knew many would die, but I also knew that
more would die if I did not fight alongside him. It was
horrendous.”
He grew silent and she knew he was reliving
the battle.
“Time stops on the battlefield. Pain is not
felt and the smell of blood is a stimulant that keeps you going.
With weapon in hand you fight until you die or remain standing
until there is no more left to kill.”
Her heart grew heavy listening to him.
“In the thick of battle you fight without
thought or reason.”
He turned silent and she could sense that
his thoughts troubled him, that the pain of this battle went much
deeper than he would admit to himself. She waited, knowing he would
continue. He needed to continue.
“I fight alongside my men. I do not expect
from them what I would not expect from myself. Too much was
expected of my men and for what? I could no longer watch my men die
senseless deaths. I challenged the laird of the opposing clan so
that the bloody battle could end.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “You could
have died.”
“Death waits for us all. It is life that
matters. If we do not live it truthfully and with honor to
ourselves and to others, then we never truly live. In truth I did
not wish to see any more of my men die.”