The rational part of him knew that Phillip was only doing his duty, but Jamie struggled with rationality where Elise MacFinnan was concerned. She’d filled his thoughts ever since that single evening they’d spent in each other’s company all those months ago.
Which was absurd. She was a spellweaver from the future who would be returning home soon. And he was Lord of the Isles, and his people’s welfare came before all considerations—especially ones of the heart. It was his duty to make a marriage alliance that would benefit his people—even if it made his heart a wasteland. So why did the thought of this marriage alliancemake him feel sick to his stomach? And why did the thought of Elise MacFinnan send his skin tingling and his pulse racing?
“My laird?”
Jamie snapped his attention back to Phillip. His advisor was frowning at him, and Jamie realized he hadn’t been listening to a word he’d been saying. “What? Aye, do what ye think is best.”
Before Phillip could detain him with any further questions, he stepped around him to the door, hurried through the castle as quickly as decorum would allow, and went out into the bailey. He halted, looking around.
He spotted Elise sitting on the wall of the well in the center of the courtyard. She had her chin propped in one hand and was staring out to sea, lost in thought.
Taking a deep breath, he strode over. She looked up as his shadow fell across her and for a moment her expression was unguarded, open. He stuttered to a halt, shocked by the sorrow in her eyes. In the next instant, it was gone, replaced by a smile.
“Ah, so you managed to escape then?”
“Just about.” Why had she looked so sad? He didn’t want her to feel that way. If it were up to him, Elise MacFinnan wouldneverfeel sad. He forced humor into his voice. “Although it was a near thing. I’m sure Phillip would have kept me talking until Yuletide had I let him.”
She snorted and went back to staring at the sea. Jamie lowered himself onto the wall beside her, resting his elbows on his knees. For a time, neither spoke and Jamie ran through the words he wanted to say. Trouble was, what he wanted to say and what heshouldsay were entirely different things. Finally, he settled on a question.
“Why are ye sitting here, lass?”
She picked up some loose gravel and began tossing the pieces away one by one. “When I came out here, a group of women were here by the well drawing up water. They were laughingand bantering with each other, having a great time. I thought I’d come over and join them. But when they saw who I was, they babbled excuses, curtsied like I was a queen, and got out of here quicker than you can say, ‘MacFinnan spellweaver.’ Why is everyone afraid of me?”
There was genuine hurt in her voice, and Jamie found himself wanting to reach out and pull her into his arms. It was all he could do to stop himself.
I’mnot afraid of you, he wanted to say.Fear isn’t what I feel for you at all. I feel…
He squashed that thought before it could go any further.
“Ye are a spellweaver, lass,” he said softly. “In case ye havenae noticed, ye carry a certain reputation amongst my people. We’ve grown up on legends of these all-powerful women who could turn ye into a toad or call down fire from the sky if ye displeased them.”
Her eyebrows almost rose into her hairline. “Is that what the stories say? What a load of crap! I couldn’t turn anyone into a toad if I tried. If I could, there would be a few more toads and a few less ex-boyfriends wandering around my neighborhood, I can tell you!”
He snorted a laugh. “That may be, but all my people have to go on are the stories. Dinna fash, lass. They just need to get to know ye, that’s all. Then they’ll feel differently.”
Like I do, he thought.
She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Sorry. Ignore me. I’m wallowing. I’ve not exactly been much help since I arrived, have I?”
“Dinna doubt yer value, lass,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “Ye’ve given my council a kick up the backside if naught else. And trust me, that was sorely needed.”
She gave a wan smile. “I have to admit, that meeting was…interesting.”
Jamie winced inwardly. Anger at Phillip surged inside him again. Why did the bloody man have to open his big mouth? “Listen,” he started awkwardly. “About this marriage contract—”
“You don’t have to explain,” Elise cut in quickly. “You don’t owe me any explanations.”
“I do. And Iwantto explain.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. Oh, hell. He was no good at this. “It’s a strategic alliance only. I’ve never even met the woman and I’ve not agreed to anything, but if I do, King James will send us ships to fight off the pirates.” He was trying to justify himself. He was trying to make her understand that it wasn’t his choice. That he didn’t want to marry Margaret of Concressault. That he wanted to—
Elise turned to face him. Sunlight was streaming down from a break in the clouds, making her dark hair gleam as her plait fell over one shoulder. Her gaze was deep and penetrating, and it sent a thrill right through him. That unguarded look was there again. For a moment, he saw the hurt in her eyes.
Then she turned to stare out to sea. “It sounds like a good deal. Will…will you take it?”
No, he wanted to say.Never.But she deserved the truth. “I…dinna know. Half my council supports it; the other half hates the idea. Politics is never simple. A path littered with quicksand. If I make the wrong step, we all might drown.”
She snorted softly. “Yep. That hasn’t changed, even in my century. I suppose I should offer you my congratulations.”
He looked at her sharply and gave a savage shake of his head. “Nay. Dinna. I dinna wish to hear such things. Not from ye.”
