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He lunged at her, grabbing her arms and pinning her against the wall. ‘Honour, you dare talk of honour. I worshipped you, Kenna.’ He shook her hard, fingers digging into her flesh. ‘You know what it is to be alone, living a pointless, hopeless existence and then to find something wonderful that makes your heart race and a whole bright future open up before you? You start to dream, to plan, to hope and then it all comes crashing down.’ He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He would strike her, Kenna was sure of it, and she braced herself for the blow. ‘I should set my birds on you, to rip out your eyes, as you have ripped out my heart,’ he hissed.
‘Meyrick, stop it, please, you are hurting me.’
‘Not nearly enough after what you’ve done.’ He lay his forehead against hers as she squirmed to free herself. ‘I loved you, Kenna. I never loved anyone in my life, but with you, it was real love. Christ, I should take you now, with violence. It is no more than you deserve for turning out to be nothing but a deceitful little bitch.’
‘You will not touch me.’
‘And you will not talk back to me.’ He banged her against the stone at her back. ‘It would be the work of a moment to have you, up against the wall like a whore, and you’d never tell Conall, would you. Aye, you’d take that secret to the grave. I could even plant my seed in your womb. How would you like that?’
Meyrick pressed himself against her, and she could feel he was hard and ready. Her arms hurt so much where he was squeezing them she thought they might break in two. This man was revealing himself, and it was raw and awful. Something heartless was slithering in his eyes now, something he had kept hidden from her, which she had only glimpsed that time out hawking.
‘No, please, Meyrick.’
‘Don’t worry. The thought of you naked with Conall repels me. If he’s had you, then you are worthless, soiled. The very idea of being where he has been sickens me.’
‘Then let me go,’ Kenna shouted, making her voice as hard and loud as she could. ‘Conall knows I have come here, and if I don’t return safely, he will come looking. Hurt me, and he will kill you.’
‘Or I, him.’ He smiled again, but it was like a wolf showing its fangs. ‘Fear not, I am leaving Dunslair for good today. You will not see me again. This is where it ends, Kenna, with my anger and your guilt. So go on, get out of my sight.’
Kenna ran away as quickly as her shaking legs would carry her, praying she would never see Meyrick Campbell again.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Monnine was in Rory’s chamber and he dearly wished she wasn’t.
‘I must set you a big fire Laird for it’s a little cold for a summer’s eve I think,’ she said in her soft husky voice as she squatted before the hearth, pushing her thick coils of hair back over her shoulders. ‘Isn’t it wonderful, the news about Conall and Kenna. I am so happy for them.’
‘Let me help you with that,’ said Rory kneeling down beside her. ‘Monnine your hands are so red and sore, are they working you too hard?’
‘No I like the work, to be busy.’
He took hold of one and turned it over, feeling it tremble as she tried to pull away.
‘Forgive me, Laird, it frightens me, the touch of a man, even yours. Though you are gentle it makes my stomach twist in knots and my heart falter.’
‘Because you fear violence?’
‘Aye.’
‘I would never hurt you nor force you, you must know that.’ She just looked at him with that amber stare of hers. Those beautiful, strange eyes would be the death of him he was certain, for they held him, pulled him in, enslaved him. Perhaps she was a witch, with this awful attraction tormenting him, with sleepless nights and thoughts of her filling his head with guilt, making him want her and hating himself for being a rough, needful brute.
A slight smile lit her face. ‘Your hands are very warm, Laird.’
‘As is my heart and it seems you have it, Monnine, to do with as you will.’ That mouth was so full, so pink, begging to be kissed. Temptation and soft feelings of tenderness overtook him and without meaning to he brought his mouth to hers. He hoped his stubbled face was not too hard, rasping against the softness of her face. She was sweeter than he had imagined in his dreams, and fit him as if they had been made for each other. Rory’s hands found her tangle of copper hair, pulling her closer. It would be the work of a moment to gather her up and take her to the high canopied bed, to make love to her slowly, all night if needs be until she trusted in him. But it was as if he was kissing a statue, so tense and still was she.
Rory pulled away, humiliation and disappointment walking side by side in his chest. ‘Forgive me, Monnine. I could not help myself, though ‘tis plain I am mistaken in your regard for me. I won’t do that again I swear.’
He got up to go but she grabbed his arm and stopped him.
‘No, it is I who must beg forgiveness. You have been so good to me, taking me in, protecting me from Logan. If you...if you need that…I mean if you have a mind to lie with me, I will not resist. I will do it if it pleases you.’ She frowned and pulled her shift off one creamy shoulder, eyes cast downwards.
Rory wanted the floor to swallow him up, such was his shame. ‘No. God no. Never like that, Monnine.’
‘But I will do it. I want to make you happy. I will lie and let you do what you will.’
‘Christ is that what you’ve been taught to do. I’m not like him, your husband. I would never use you like that. Oh God, I’ve been a fool, an utter fool.’
He rushed away sickened by Monnine’s words and what she thought of him, hating himself for wanting her and even more for letting her see it.
