The Campbell Trilogy Read online

  His mouth fell in a grim line. “I don’t—”

  He stopped, stunned by what had been about to come out of his mouth. Love. I don’t love the others.

  Was that what he felt for her? At one time, Margaret MacLeod had accused him of not knowing what the word meant. Perhaps she’d been right, because he’d never felt this irrational intensity of emotion for anyone. He’d never had to fight to keep such a tight rein on his emotions, because emotions had never been a factor for him at all. Until he met Caitrina.

  She must have read the shock on his face because she was giving him a strange look. “You don’t what?”

  He knew she would not welcome his feelings. They would terrify her. Send her running from him like a startled hare. Masking his expression, he shook off his disturbing thought and said, “I don’t want to have to order you back to Rothesay.”

  Her eyes sparked like wildfire. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Wouldn’t I?” She would soon find out that he could be every bit as stubborn as she was.

  The mutinous expression on her face said it all, but wisely she chose not to give voice to her thoughts.

  He gave her a long look, taking in every inch of her tousled, tired appearance. “I’m willing to be reasonable.”

  She uttered an unladylike snort. “How gallant of you. And what, pray tell, is your definition of reasonable?”

  “You are the lady of the keep, and you will act accordingly. You may supervise, but that does not mean you will be on your hands and knees scrubbing floors. And,” he said, looking pointedly at her dress, “you will gown yourself as befitting your station as my wife.”

  She was furious. “So you can chop wood like a common laborer, but I am not accorded the same privilege.”

  Privilege to scrub floors? He couldn’t believe they were arguing about this. He took a step closer. “I saw you watching me.”

  She blushed to her roots. “I wasn’t watching you,” she huffed. “But you still didn’t explain why it is fine for you and not for me.”

  “It’s different for men.”

  She took a step closer to him, close enough for him to feel the points of her nipples brush his chest. Heat rushed through him. He ached to take her in his arms, knowing exactly how all that lush softness felt against his skin. This was the closest he’d been to her in days. Her delicate floral scent wafted up to his nose, tempting, despite her obvious temper.

  “That is the most pigheaded, ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. It makes no sense.”

  “Nonetheless, it’s the way of it.”

  “And that is all the explanation I am to receive?”

  “I already gave you the one that matters most.” He wiped the smudge of soot from her nose, looking into her eyes. “Can’t you see that I’m only thinking of you? I want to keep you safe.”

  Some of her anger melted away with what he’d revealed. “Didn’t you accuse me once of being too safe? Of being cosseted and protected from the real world? Now you are trying to do the same. Don’t you understand that I’ll never be that girl again?”

  His finger slid along the gentle curve of her jaw to rest under her chin, then tilted her head back to meet his gaze. “I never meant for this to happen, Caitrina. Surely you know that now?”

  She looked a little dazed but nodded.

  “I know things will never be what they were, but I only want to keep you safe. You can’t go on like this.”

  “All I want to do is help.”

  “And you shall, but not by working yourself to the point of collapse.”

  “You’ll not ban me from here?”

  He could hear the edge of desperation in her voice. “No, not if you do as I ask.” He reached in his sporran and pulled out a small leather bag of coins. “Here, take this. I want you to go to the village and purchase some cloth or a dress if it can be found. I will send to Edinburgh for some finer gowns, but this will have to do for now. Today, Caitrina. You will go today.”

  She looked as though she wanted to refuse, but she took the bag and slipped it in her skirts. She bowed her head and curtsied with a great flourish. “As you wish, my laird.”

  His mouth twitched as she started to walk away, but halfway to the door she spun around and started back toward him.

  “I forgot my bucket.”

  “I’ll get it.” He took a few steps to the side and reached down to pick it up as Caitrina stopped right where he’d just been standing. He heard a crash, then a shout.

  He looked up and didn’t think but just reacted. Diving for her, he snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her to the ground underneath him, shielding her with his body.

  He braced himself. The impact from the falling wood slammed into him, tearing a groan from his lungs. Though he’d avoided most of it, the jagged edge of the beam struck his shoulder with enough force to rip through his shirt and tear a gash in his arm. He could feel the warm rush of blood running down his arm.

  He rolled off her, fighting the blazing roar of pain in his shoulder. Pain that engulfed him in a haze. The hall exploded in chaos. He heard yells from above and screams from the serving girls. Everyone rushed around, but he had eyes only for her.

  Caitrina was safe. Thank God. His enemies claimed ice ran in his blood, that nothing ever penetrated his deadly calm. They should see him now. His heart was pounding like a frightened hare. He’d never been so damn scared in his life.

  If anything had happened to her … Something hot and tight lodged in his chest. If there had been any doubt before, there was none now.

  This was love, and he loved her with every fiber of his being.

  She was leaning over him, her face deathly pale. “Oh, my God! What happened?” She looked down at his arm; blood gushed from the open wound, turning his sleeve red. “You’re hurt.” Tears sprang to her eyes and her face seemed to crumple.

  She’s crying. For me. But it was the look in her eyes that penetrated the black haze of pain like nothing else. It was a look he’d never seen before. Raw. Exposed. As if he were seeing into her heart.

  His shoulder hurt like hell, but it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. For there in her eyes, in the delicate fall of a tear, she gave herself away.

  It wasn’t just duty that bound them together.

  Chapter 15

  Caitrina paced around the laird’s chamber, doing her best to stay calm and out of Mor’s way, but the wait was torturous.

  Blood. There’d been so much blood. The rough-hewn beam that had fallen on them had been at least twelve inches thick. Thick enough to kill.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath but couldn’t calm the frantic beat of her heart. Panic had taken hold and had yet to let go.

  Dear God, Jamie could have been killed. Taken from her as quickly as her father and brothers. In that split second when she’d realized what was happening, and what he’d done in saving her, her heart slammed into her chest and stripped away all pretense from her consciousness.

  Enemy. Henchman. Campbell. None of that mattered.

  She cared for him. Deeply. She didn’t want to try to put her feelings into words—not when they terrified her. Caring for someone made her vulnerable. If she lost him, too … Fear laced itself around her heart and squeezed.

  She couldn’t stand it; one more minute of not knowing and she’d go mad.

  Twisting her hands in her skirts anxiously, she approached the bed and attempted to peek over Mor’s shoulder. Jamie was on his side, facing away from her, as Mor tended his wound.

  “How does it look?”

  “The same way it did five minutes ago, though it’s hard to tell with you blocking my light,” Mor clipped. Caitrina quickly backed away from the flickering candlelight. Though it was just after midday, the small windows provided little illumination. “But it will look much worse if I don’t finish stitching it up.”

  “Are you sure he’ll—”

  Two voices cut her off this time.

  “He’s fine.”