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  “I would be honored, my lady,” Arthur said with a bow of his head. “My wife will welcome the company.”

  Bella nodded gratefully, hearing the sincerity in his voice.

  The king stood, still holding her hand. It was as if he thought she might disappear if he let her go. She felt the heat of Lachlan’s glare and glanced in his direction. The look of predatory intent was so fierce, for a moment she thought he would pounce across the table and rip her from the king’s grasp.

  But he quickly masked the emotion and looked away. Only the hard tic below his jaw betrayed his flash of anger. He was jealous.

  “It’s late,” the king said. “You must be exhausted. We can speak more of this in the morning.”

  The rest of the men stood and followed them out of the solar. Bella warmed herself by the fire while Sir Arthur fetched a servant to see her to her room. One by one, the men came over to bid her good night and give her some combination of a welcome home and an expression of gratitude for what she’d done. All, that is, except for Lachlan.

  This should have been a joyous occasion. For what was probably the first time since she’d left Balvenie Castle nearly three years ago, she was safe.

  But she didn’t feel safe, she felt lost. Even though they’d been in constant danger, hunted across the Marches and nearly imprisoned, she’d felt safe since the first time Lachlan had dragged her in the bushes and tucked her under his arm. He’d been her tether, the constant by her side, and without him it felt as if she were flailing in a storm-tossed sea. She’d come to …

  Rely on him.

  She was trying to concentrate on Sir Alex, thanking him for his part in her rescue, when out of the corner of her eye she noticed Lachlan speaking with the king.

  “I don’t know how to thank you,” she said to the handsome young knight.

  Sir Alex took her hand and gave her a gallant bow. “It was my honor, my lady. I only wish it could have come sooner.”

  She nodded. She did as well.

  She would have said something else, but her attention was diverted to the opposite side of the room. Lachlan and Robert had finished their brief conversation and Lachlan had started to walk away.

  Leaving. Without saying a word.

  She didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t be doing this. God, would she ever see him again?

  Her heart lurched. A hard spike of panic rushed through her veins. Silently, she begged him to turn around. Look at me. Don’t leave.

  He kept walking. And somehow she knew if she let him go it would be too late.

  “Pardon me,” she said hastily to Sir Alex and darted after Lachlan.

  She was aware the other men were watching but didn’t care. Fear had swallowed her pride. “Wait! Lachlan, wait!”

  He was nearly at the corridor when he came to an abrupt stop. Slowly, he turned around, his expression dark and forbidding as he watched her approach. He held himself stiffly—remotely—as if the distance between them were already insurmountable.

  Aware of the eyes on them, Bella felt the heat rush to her cheeks. What had she intended to say? “Would you leave without saying goodbye?”

  His jaw hardened at the subtle accusation in her voice. “It’s over, Bella.” Emotion twisted in her chest; he wasn’t referring to the mission. “I’ve said everything that needed to be said.”

  If he’d been able to meet her gaze, the harshness of his tone might have discouraged her. “Have you?” She let the question hang before adding, “When will you go?”

  “Soon.”

  The cold response cut like a knife. Why was he doing this? Stay … Fight.

  “I don’t want you to leave,” she blurted.

  He stilled, every muscle in his body drawn as tight as a bow. His eyes dipped to hers, two hard slits of piercing green. “What in the hell do you want from me, Bella?” The harshness of his voice took her aback. “An affair? Marriage?”

  Her eyes widened. Marriage. Was that what she wanted? To be another man’s chattel? To put herself at the mercy of another man when she’d just been freed? Could she ever trust a man enough to give him that kind of power over her?

  Her heart started to beat very fast. She couldn’t think. “I … I don’t know.”

  She hadn’t realized he’d been holding her arm until he dropped it. Her heart clenched at his stony expression; it felt as if she’d just failed an unspoken test. Had her hesitation hurt him? He’d caught her by surprise. He’d never hinted at a future, let alone one so permanent.

  So conventional.

  “You’ve been through a lot. It’s not surprising that you would get overly attached. I tried to warn you. But it was my mistake. I thought you could handle it.” He leaned down, his face cruelly mocking. “But just because you come a few times, it doesn’t mean you’re in love.”

  Bella sucked in her breath, feeling as if he’d just slapped her. Nay, not slapped her, something worse. Pitied her. Mocked her. For daring to try to care about him. For daring to think she could actually count on him. She’d taken a chance. She’d told him she wanted him to stay, and he’d thrown it back in her face.

  Her cheeks heated with hurt and indignation. To hell with him! Nothing was worth this. She’d had enough cruelty in her life. She deserved more than this. She deserved someone who cared about her.

  For years she’d been valued only for her body. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—let that happen again. If he didn’t want her, didn’t want to give them a chance, then that was the way it would be.

  She was done making excuses for him.

  She drew herself up, every inch the proud, disdainful countess. She’d had years of practice hiding her feelings, and she relied on every one of them right now. “Love?” She let out a brittle tinkle of laughter. “The thought never crossed my mind. I could never love someone like you. The man I give my heart to will be worthy of my love and be capable of loving me back. He won’t be a mean, heartless bastard who would turn his back on his clan, friends, and country. It’s no wonder that your wife left you, you’re an—”

  “That’s enough,” he growled. His eyes bit into her, his handsome face stark. “I think you’ve said enough.”

  She gasped, unable to breathe through the pain burning in her chest.

  She’d done it. She’d finally managed to hurt him. But it gave her precious little satisfaction as she stood there frozen, feeling as if she were breaking apart, and watched him walk away.

  Eighteen

  Dunstaffnage Castle, November, 1308

  “You’re sure you won’t reconsider?” Bruce eyed Lachlan over the edge of his goblet. They were alone in the laird’s solar of Dunstaffnage Castle. It was four weeks since Lachlan had been here last, and yet he could still hear the scorn in Bella’s voice as she’d given him the set down he so richly deserved.

  She was right: She did deserve better. He’d been trying to tell her that all along.

  Marriage? What in Hades had possessed him to say that? Of course she’d hesitated. It wasn’t her fault that for one moment he’d allowed himself to think …

  He was a fool. The heroine didn’t end up with the pirate. She needed a hero, not a villain. No wonder she’d laughed. He’d laugh, too.

  Lachlan picked up his own glass and drained it. But the whisky did little to dull the burning ache in his chest.

  He met the king’s gaze from across the table. Though idly spoken, Lachlan knew the question was anything but an idle one. Robert the Bruce would keep his promise, but if there was a way he could honorably avoid doing so, he would.

  Lachlan smiled just as idly. “Nay,” he said with far more certainty than he felt. “I will not reconsider.”

  He’d left, needing to get away before he did something stupid. The exchange with Bella had left him angry, raw, his emotions frayed, unable to escape the gnawing feeling that he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life.

  The time away was supposed to clear his mind. It hadn’t. But as soon as Bruce paid him the rest of the mo