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‘Nash, in truth, we hardly know each other.’
‘Yes, we do, and I will show you just how reconciled you are.’
His arm came about her waist, and he pulled her belly to his. Nash stared into Orla’s eyes for a moment, his own burning with longing, and then he kissed her.
His lips were smooth, practised, perfect, and yet they did not stir her. There was no gut punch of desire, no hammering heart and weakness to the knees. And there was no recognition by her body of his as there was when Wolfric kissed the life out of her. For a moment, shock and embarrassment held her frozen in Nash’s embrace, but then Orla pushed him off with all she was worth.
‘No, you cannot,’ she said, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth.
His face was flushed, excited, almost triumphant. ‘Forgive me. I was overcome by the strength of my affection,’ he said, but his tone was not contrite, and he took a step towards her.
‘No,’ she said, a little too harshly.
Nash held his palms up. ‘I will not touch you again, Orla, but you must allow me to say that I have never met a woman like you. I fear that you have my heart and my soul.’
‘You cannot say such things when you barely know me.’
‘Our souls know each other,’ he said passionately. ‘Do you not believe that there is one person in this world that we are destined to be with? Do you not feel our bond?’ He slammed his hand into his chest. ‘It was there in the hammering of my heart when I first set eyes on you, in the sickness eating at my soul when we are parted.’
‘Please, Nash. You dwell on me out of loneliness and boredom, as I have done over you, but it is all a foolish fancy, nothing more. I will not stand here talking nonsense. I am wed, and you will soon be joined to another.’
‘Yes, you are wed to a heathen brute who uses you as his slave. You should be adored and protected. If you were mine, I would worship the ground you walked on. I would hold you close and make love to you with tenderness and compassion. I would never hurt a hair on your head, Orla.’
‘Wolfric does not hurt me.’
‘That, I do not believe. Does he not pin you down and force himself on you?’
‘Stop it. Do not speak in such a vile way. That is not how it is between us. It has never been that way.’
‘So, Munro has the manners to ask permission, does he? That bastard does not care for you, and you know it.’
‘I believe he does, or at least, he is beginning to.’
Nash narrowed his eyes. ‘Has he said he loves you, Orla? Has he said it? The truth now.’
‘No, he has not.’
‘Then you are as much the fool as I am.’ Nash glared at her, hands fisted at his sides, jaw set in stone, and suddenly he did not seem so soft and sad and lonely.
‘Orla, they say he has a mistress he keeps in Inverness.’
It was a spiteful accusation meant to wound. How could he say such a thing? Dread uncoiled in Orla as she realised she was in a wild wood, alone, with an enemy soldier who was fast turning into a stranger before her eyes. She put her hand in her pocket and felt for her musket.
‘I have heard those rumours. Indeed you and your Major were happy to spread them on your visit to Blackreach, even in my company. That was not exactly a kindness, was it? And I expected more honour from you.’
‘Orla, I only speak the truth.’
‘No, you spread vile rumours which I do not believe, and I never will, Nash. I hope anyone who spouts such bile ends up choking on it.’
‘It is the truth, but if you will not believe it, there is nothing more to be said.’ Nash stormed back to his horse. He mounted it and rode straight at her, and for a brief moment, she thought he might mow her down. But Orla held her ground, and Nash pulled the beast up and shook his head.
‘You never back down, do you?’ he said. ‘I admire you for that.’ His horse pranced before her, as eager to be gone as she was. ‘You must forgive my ardour, Orla. When a man truly loves a woman, he declares it to her and the world. I said those words because I meant them. If I have given offence, forgive me.’
‘There is no offence, Nash. Now we should part as friends at least?’ she said, regretting the pain in his eyes and her part in it. She held out her hand. ‘Let us shake on it and settle our differences.’
He leant down and gave her a wan smile, taking her hand and kissing it. ‘Friends, it is then. I doubt we shall meet again, Orla, so I wish you well. Indeed, I wish you happiness, though I have little hope of it. Goodbye, dearest Orla, and know that you have my best wishes and continued sympathies.’
Nash kicked the horse viciously, and it sped off. Orla watched until he was out of sight and then burst into tears. It had all been talk between Nash and her, but with that unwelcome kiss, her behaviour had crossed the line into betrayal. Through her foolish vanity, she had hurt one man and betrayed another, and she thoroughly hated herself for it.
