“You’re wrong!” he shouted, startling me. “There iseveryreason for you to hide away! Do you realize that swarms of Ogilvie troops scour the near vicinity? Foryou?Are you aware that they will stop at nothing until you’re found and returned to Ogilvie?” His volume rose even higher, and his grip became even tighter. “Have you any idea what Ogilvie willdowith you if hedoesget his hands on you? Have youconsideredthis, Roses?Haveyou? I would have thought you might have, after what he—” He broke off, breathing heavily and glaring at me.
I was upset enough by his tirade to flinch back from him, but his grip was beyond secure.
Kade rose from his chair and walked up behind Wilkie to place his hand on his brother’s shoulder. I couldn’t help but notice that both Kade and Laird Mackenzie looked at Wilkie as though they’d never seen him before, as if his reaction was entirely out of character.
“Wilkie,” said Kade. “Steady on, brother. She’s well protected here. There’s no harm in her employment in the healing quarters, if she desires it. ’Tis as safe as your antechamber. As long as she’s not wandering the Highlands alone, there’s little threat to her. We’ll all negotiate—or fight—alongside you if Ogilvie shows up.”
Some semblance of control returned to Wilkie’s manner at Kade’s words. His voice was even, and his eyes were directed at me, although it was his siblings he was addressing. “I will speak to Roses in private for a moment.”
Without waiting for agreement, he pulled me by the hand out into the hallway, shutting the door behind us, and led me around a corner. He faced me with fire in his eyes, and I backed into a small alcove, trapped by him. I placed my hand on his chest, not to push him away but tofeelhim. His heart was racing.
“Roses,”he hissed. “There will benohealing quarters! You’re to return to my chambers and wait for me there. I don’t want you attracting unwanted attention, especially in this dress—” He broke off abruptly, his eyes lightly skimming my dress only briefly, then looking away, as if the sight of it burned his eyes.
“You don’t like the dress, warrior?”
“Nay,Roses. Idon’tlike the dress. ’Tis far too...fitted.”
I smoothed my hands down my garment, unsure of his meaning. “Fitted? Ailie adjusted it herself—”
“Roses, you’re to go back to my chambers and wait for me there,” he repeated, as though the topic of my clothing was upsetting to him.
I could see he was unsure whether or not I would heed his command, and this aggravated him further. He waited for an answer I did not give.
“Roses?”
“The time goes very slowly waiting for you in your chambers,” I said softly. “Let me work to repay my debt to your clan. For the fruit.”
“You never evenatethe fruit!” he seethed, running his hand through his hair in exasperation. “You have no debt to my clan! You’re with me.” I wanted to attach a world of meaning to those three final words, but I didn’t dare.
“I’m with you, aye,” I said. “Whenever you want me.But I’m notwithyou when you’re training and meeting. I’m alone. I feel only despair when you’re not with me.”
His tone gentled by a single degree. “You have no need to despair, lass. I told you I would return to you, and I will. At my very first opportunity.”
I was entirely aware that my words would anger him, but I had the strong feeling that sitting idly in Wilkie’s bed, waiting for him in his absence, would very nearly drive me mad. I wanted this man, so much and in such an unrealistic capacity that it made me feel reckless and quietly irate. I had to dosomething:to be busy, to react, to somehow fight for the life of what we were. “You want me to lie patiently in your bed for you, warrior? As your faithful servant awaiting you? Is this what you desire of me? Submission and servitude?”
“Are you deliberately trying to provoke me, Roses? You’re not my servant!” he growled.
“Nay?” I said, sulkily. “What am I, then?”
He studied my face, as though reading there the reasons behind my insolence. And he countered my tactics with his own. His manner calmed considerably. He leaned over me, so his hair skimmed across my lips. His hand cupped my face, and he kissed me, his tongue gentle and fierce simultaneously, opening me to him. His mouth succeeded in warming all the coldness out of my body, infusing me once again with his honeyed glow.
“You’re my sunlit angel,” he said. “And I want you safe.”
But I wanted more of him, now. And I was hurt by his plan to keep me sequestered away, like—well, like the fugitive that I was. I didn’t want to feel shameful and afraid anymore, hiding, as I had for so long. Wilkie had introduced an energy, an optimism and a sense of self-worth to me that was new and so very life-affirming. I wanted him with me, to feel again the closeness and heat of his body. If I did as he asked, how long would my isolation last? I might wait there for hours, or longer, lying idle in his antechamber, alone, wondering about my fate and my future: it caused what felt remarkably like a small glimmer of panic in my heart. I wanted too much—more than he could give—and I knew it.I made it perfectly clear to her that nothing would come of it. I made no promises.
“What’s to be my fate, warrior? You intend to keep me as a captive? To hide me away in your chambers and soothe me secretly, at your whim?”
Wilkie contemplated me coolly, as though my words stung him. “We’ll discuss this when I return to you.” There was a distinct bite to his words.
I felt crazed by lust and longing, and the thought of loneliness crowding around me once again, as it had so insistently before him. The threat of his sudden departure shone light on the precariousness of my future and the juxtaposition of its two very different possible outcomes, upsetting me greatly. “I don’t want to discuss this when you return,” I dared to say. “I want to discuss it now.”
He remained frozen in place, clearly surprised and also enraged by my refusal and maybe by my desperation. He was a man used to being in control, and to giving orders. I had no way of knowing if he was thinking what I was: who wasIto lay conditions and make demands, onhim?I was a servant and clanless vagabond; he was the second-highest-ranking nobleman of one of the most prosperous, powerful clans in all of Scotland. He tried again, and his tone was stern and commanding. “I’m not having this out with you now. I’m returning to the meeting. And you’re going to my chambers. We’ll talk about this later.”
But I wanted him too badly not to fight him, and fight for him. “This?Whatthis?”
“What do you mean?” His patience was becoming more and more frayed around the edges.
“I meanthis,as in the impossibility of me staying here with you and giving myself to you wholly, which is my every waking wish? Orthis,as in you being undecided about what it is you want to do with me?”
