Chapter Eight
Anna's breath rushed out. She swayed, then shook her head. "What? Surely, I misunderstood."
Neacal grasped hold of both her forearms, lest she topple from the chair. An abrupt ache struck his gut. What if she refused? "You didn't misunderstand," he assured her. "I'm asking you to marry me."
"I cannot." Tears sparkled in her eyes, then she closed them tight, making the tears spill down her cheeks.
The ache within his vitals grew, expanding to take over his chest, tightening, making it hard to breathe. "Why not?"
She shook her head. "Oh, dear Neacal. I…" Covering her face with her hands, she broke into sobs.
Saints! 'Twas not the response he'd hoped for at all. Had he bungled this just as he'd bungled everything else in his life?
"What is it, Anna?" He rubbed her slender shoulders, wishing he could read her mind. He sensed that she held a world of pain inside her, that she was trying to escape the past just as he was, but it clung to them like spider webs.
Saints, how he wanted to hold her in his arms, to comfort her, but he couldn't now. A divide as solid as a thick stone wall stood between them. What the devil was it? Once he knew, mayhap he could destroy it.
After she got her crying under control, she lowered her hands and tried to awkwardly dry her tears on her sleeve. "You're a chief," she whispered.
He took out his clean handkerchief and handed it to her. "I'm well aware, but what difference does it make?"
Drying her tears, she shook her head. The pain gleaming in her reddened eyes carved a hole in his chest. How could he convince her?
"I would protect you and provide for you," he said.
"I know. You're a good man, Neacal. The most honorable I have ever met." The sweet affection in her eyes only made this more difficult. "But your clan would never approve of me."
Annoyance clawed at him. "Do you think I care? I'll marry the person I choose. Not who the elders advise me to marry. Of a certainty, not any of the young lasses who are visiting Bearach now."
Anna gave a brief, sad smile. "But, as a chief, you must think of your clan. A bride should bring much wealth or an important alliance to your clan. I can do neither. I'm penniless, as I'm sure you have figured out by now." She dropped her gaze.
He stroked his hand along her smooth, damp cheek. "It matters not to me. I have friends and some important alliances already. The Camerons, the MacKenzies."
"But I've heard the gossip among your clansmen, as I've already told you."
'Twas obvious what she was referring to—the fact that half his clan questioned his sanity and his ability to lead, while some were fully-fledged traitors. And they would think him even more unbalanced if he married a minstrel. Annoyance coiling through him, he sat back. "I don't give a damn about gossip. I'm the chief and I'll make the decisions about the clan and my life."
"I couldn't bear it if they voted you out because of me." She bit her bottom lip. Regardless of his annoyance at the situation, he hungered to do the same. He wanted to nibble on her lush, sensual lower lip, lick it, and devour her mouth.
Truth be told, he was tempted to throw it all away for her… the chieftainship, the castle. But if he did that, where would they live? In a hut on an island? Nay, she deserved much better. Her manners and her speech told him she'd been born to privilege, but then lost all. And that she'd had a hard life since then. She deserved to be the lady of a castle, with many servants and fine clothes. He would provide that for her.
Besides, he knew his da was watching over him, and he couldn't let him down by resigning as chief.
Neacal shook his head. "They'll not kick me out. I won't let them." Now, he was even more determined to remain chief and to be a great one. He would succeed for his father and for Anna, to give her a good life. "I refuse to give up. Do you understand what I'm saying? I didn't give up when my life hung by a thread—even though I was bloody well tempted at times. Why would I give up now? This is no great obstacle compared to what I've already survived."
Tears welled in her eyes again and she blotted at them with the handkerchief. "You're the strongest, most honorable man I've ever met, Neacal. Words cannot express how much I admire and treasure you."
He searched her eyes, wondering at the affection he saw there. Did she feel as he did? If so, he would not back down.
"Tell meaye." He leaned forward, stroking his thumbs along her flushed cheeks. He pressed a kiss to her luscious lips. "Tell me you'll be my bride." Not giving her time to refuse him, he captured her lips.
Neacal's kiss stole Anna's reasoning ability. She was glad he didn't wait for her response, because she couldn't give him the answer he wanted. Although she wanted to sayayeto his marriage proposal with every fiber of her being, she could not. In the eyes of the law, she was already married. She had to find a way to tell him, even if he hated her for it. The simple thought of causing him more pain made her chest ache.
Before she knew it, they lay upon the pallet by the warm fireplace. Good heavens! "We should stop," she said.
"Do you want me to?" He searched her eyes at close range.
The raw emotion in his midnight blue gaze stalled out her words. Of course she didn't want him to stop. To sayayewould be a lie. But to saynaywould be folly, so she kept her mouth shut. The last thing on earth she wanted to do was disappoint him.
