The Rock Read online

  “Surely you didn’t think I’d look the same?” he asked.

  She stared at him with that same frown on her face that she’d had when he’d accidentally ruined a Christmas surprise she’d had for him by showing up early one night on the roof. She’d been halfway through setting up a special picnic of his favorite sweets on a plaid, replete with a candle and wernage. The sweetened wine tasted like syrup, but he’d choked down a glass to please her.

  Finally the frown fell, and she seemed to compose herself—the nervous fluttering stopped. “Which is why you shouldn’t be here. We aren’t children anymore.”

  Something in her tone bothered him. It was as if she was trying to put distance between them—as if she was trying to forget.

  “Yet here you are, too,” he said.

  She looked up at him, unable to deny the observation.

  “Why haven’t you been to see me, El?”

  His tone was questioning, not accusing, yet she blushed guiltily as if it were. She dropped her gaze. “I intended to, of course. I’ve wanted to see both you and Jo; it’s just that we’ve been so busy since we arrived. The castle is in poor condition and you know my stepmother.”

  He did. Lady Eleanor had been a wealthy heiress most of her life, and she liked to surround herself with the best of everything. It had become even more pronounced in the years following the old laird’s death, after she’d had most of her possessions stripped by Edward for being the wife of a traitor. Unlike the Douglases, however, Lady Eleanor was able to successfully petition for their return a few years later. It was Jamie’s dispossession and his inability to get his lands returned that had set him on the road to Scone five years ago where he’d joined Robert the Bruce on the way to his coronation.

  But from the way Ella was avoiding his gaze, Thom knew it was more than Lady Eleanor wishing to bring the castle up to her high standards at work. Ella had always been a horrible liar.

  “I thought you might have forgotten your promise,” he said softly, his deep voice blending into the dark night.

  The heat that rose to her cheeks told him she hadn’t. The memory of that day hung between them. She’d run away from the castle the morning Jamie told her he was sending her to France and had gone straight to Thommy in the forge. She’d been crying and near hysterical as she’d launched herself against his chest and held on to him the same way she’d done in the tree all those years before. She wouldn’t do it, she told him, she wouldn’t go.

  The horror of her words had been the only thing that had prevented Thom from embarrassing himself. At eighteen the feel of her in his arms had stirred his body in ways that he couldn’t control. He’d been instantly hard and hotter than he’d ever been at the forge, and in danger of exploding just from the pressure of her against him. But “go” had chilled him.

  In between sobs, he’d learned that Ella was being sent to France for her protection during Bruce’s rebellion. She didn’t want to leave her home and friends again. She didn’t want to leave him. But Jamie—with the agreement of Lady Eleanor—would not be gainsaid.

  After the falling-out between him and Jamie the night before, Thom wasn’t surprised. It was the speed of Jamie’s reaction that came as a shock. Jamie was taking no chances in allowing whatever it was between Thom and Ella to progress. In a strange way it had heartened him: Jamie had seen it, too.

  Knowing there was nothing he could do, Thom had held her in his arms, smoothing her hair and trying to comfort her while his heart was being torn apart. It had been one of the hundreds of times he’d reminded himself not to touch her, not to press his mouth to hers, when she’d stood there looking up at him with tears glistening in her lashes and made him promise that he would never forget her. That he would be here when she returned and nothing would change. She knew about the money his mother had left him, and feared he would do something “stupid” like run off and “get yourself killed” in the war.

  He’d promised, and she in turn had sworn she would return as soon as she could. He would take her and Jo to the Crags of Craigneith to see the cave just like they’d planned. She’d been recovered enough by that point to jest that maybe he would overcome his aversion to horses by then and they could ride rather than walk. He’d grumbled good-naturedly, used to her teasing about his lack of regard for the “infernal beasts”—a feeling that seemed to be mutual.

  He’d never imagined it would be nearly five years.

  Ella shook her head, a wistful smile turning her soft red lips. “I didn’t forget, but it’s been a long time. I wasn’t sure you would remember.” She gave him a sidelong look from under her lashes, her smile turning teasing. “I thought maybe you’d be married by now with a couple of bairns.”

  The lighthearted words made his chest pinch. “How could you think that?”

  Her perfectly etched brows furrowed. “You are three and twenty. It’s only natural to suppose that one of those village lasses who was always trying to get your attention might have caught it by now.” She laughed, and the sound eviscerated him like a blade honed at the stone for hours. It was the same way she’d teased him when they were younger, utterly oblivious that for him there was only one woman whose attention he craved.

  Did the thought of another woman “catching” him still mean nothing to her? Did it cause her not the slightest twinge of jealousy? For almost five years he’d lived in agonized fear of hearing she was betrothed or married. Yet the same thought on her part seemed to cause her not one smidgen of distress.

  He’d been so sure that she’d felt the same way as he. That she was just too young to realize her feelings. But she was twenty now—almost one and twenty—and no longer a girl of sixteen. There were no more excuses. Either she felt what had always been between them as he did or she did not.

  He could wait no longer. He took a step toward her, his gaze boring into her. His voice held a hint of the frustration burgeoning inside him. “I am not interested in any of the village lasses.”

  She took a step back—an unconscious evasion—and frowned. “What’s the matter with you, Thommy? Why are you so cross with me? I’m sorry I didn’t come see you, but surely you realize that things can’t be as they were. Jamie is rumored—”

  He took her arm, practically growling in frustration, hurt, and anger. “I’ve heard enough about your damned brother.”

  She shook her head. “You sound just like him. What happened between you two that night? You were the best of friends.”

  “Were,” he repeated angrily. “Until I overstepped my bounds.”

  “You presume too much. We are not friends, I am your laird.”

  She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  For the first time in his life, Thom felt like shaking her. As if he could force her to see what was before her eyes. Him. Where he’d always been. Loyal friend, frequent rescuer, and would-be lover—for the rest of his life, if she’d have him.

  “You are always there when I need you, Thommy.” How many times had she said that over the years? Didn’t she know why?

  “Don’t you?” he demanded angrily. “Can you not see what Jamie did? Can you not guess why your exalted brother was so determined to separate us?”

  Eyes wide, she blinked up at him wordlessly. Cluelessly.

  Thom couldn’t believe it. For five years he’d been waiting for this day. For five years he’d faithfully waited for a woman who still had no idea how he felt. Could she really be that blind? How could she not see what was right in front of her?

  He released her, frustration teeming through every muscle and vein of his body. He didn’t trust himself to keep touching her and not pull her into his arms and show her exactly what he meant. Would that shock her? What would Lady Elizabeth Douglas think if her childhood friend took her in his arms and showed her a man’s desire?

  Instead he told her. “Jamie saw how I felt about you and realized what was happening between us.”

  She tilted her head questioningly. “What was happening between us? We