The Rogue: A Highland Guard Novella (The Highland Guard) Read online

  He sure as hell wasn’t in love with her. Nor did he have any intention of falling over that particular cliff. He shuddered at the thought. He’d seen the signs enough to know. Hell, most of the men he fought with in Bruce’s Guard had succumbed to “love” and the idiocy that went along with it. At least they’d all acted like idiots while they were courting their wives. They stopped looking at other women, they became overprotective and fiercely possessive if anyone looked at their woman, they acted irrationally and crazily—alternatively miserable and overly happy depending on whether the lass looked at them the right way. They forgot their honor by anticipating the wedding night, and once they’d “won” their prize they walked around with a ridiculous “I’m the luckiest bastard in the world” grin on their faces.

  He wasn’t doing any of that. Why he’d looked at another woman just the other day, right before… Izzie and her cousin arrived. His mouth fell in a grim line. That didn’t mean anything. He wasn’t being irrational or possessive—although if that one tart merchant had looked at her chest any longer, he would have felt the edge of Randolph’s sword. It was his duty, that was all. That he didn’t feel the need to defend Elizabeth’s honor—who’d had a good number of looks at her chest as well—didn’t mean anything.

  None of it meant anything. He was just a little distracted, that’s all. He needed to focus on the prize.

  So he’d made his intentions clear with the bracelet.

  But he hadn’t meant to hurt Isabel. And though there was nothing in her eyes—no condemnation, no betrayal, no anything—when their gazes met, he knew he had.

  He wanted to apologize, but when he tried to pull her to the side after he’d been called back to camp—the Highland Guard had returned from a mission—she wouldn’t let him.

  Knowing he had to go, he vowed to try later, while doing his best to prove to everyone—including himself—that the betrothal with Elizabeth was what he wanted.

  Of course it was. Elizabeth was perfect.

  Perfect. “That is what you want, isn’t it?” He could still hear the taunt in Izzie’s voice. Aye, and he would have it. Everything was going to be perfect, damn it. Tomorrow he would get it over— He stopped, correcting himself. Tomorrow he would propose to Elizabeth.

  As much as he wanted to apologize to Izzie, it was probably better for them both if he stayed away.

  But later, when he returned to his tent to wash and saw the package that was waiting for him, he smiled. He’d almost forgotten that he’d sent his squire on a hunt for it. Maybe there was something he could do to apologize, after all.

  Insensitive… unfeeling… lout! How could he buy her cousin such a meaningful gift with her standing right there? Maybe Izzie had been right in her estimation of him from the start. Maybe Randolph was incapable of genuine feelings and emotion, and yesterday was an aberration. She’d felt as if she’d been on a stage all morning with the crowd watching them, and his brilliant performance as the perfect—she was really beginning to hate that word—doting suitor.

  But the purchase of the beautiful bracelet had been just as much for Izzie as it had been for the crowd. He was making a statement—which wasn’t necessary. She’d heard him well enough the first time.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid! Her anger wasn’t just for him; it was directed at herself as well. She knew better, and still she’d let herself think that the passion between them meant something. It meant something all right. It meant that she was a naive fool, and if he hadn’t put a stop to it, she would have been a naive ruined fool. She supposed she had to thank him for that at least. It hadn’t been a complete seduction.

  But it had been enough. The way he’d touched her, the way he’d made her feel, the way he’d looked into her eyes…

  She cursed and forced her thoughts away. She couldn’t think about it. She would never think about it again. She’d seen only what she wanted to see.

  “Did you say something, Izzie?” Elizabeth asked.

  Izzie bit her lip and winced, realizing that she must have muttered her curse aloud. She and her cousin were returning to the guesthouse after the midday meal. They were both unusually quiet and lost in thought, although Izzie could guess what her cousin was thinking about. She’d seen Elizabeth’s face when Thom MacGowan had left the refectory with the newly arrived Lady Marjorie Rutherford, a widowed baroness who’d made it clear she did not object to the son of a blacksmith turned man-at-arms for a husband. If he’d been a bowl of cream, the young widow would have been lapping him up the entire meal.

  If Izzie hadn’t been sure before, watching Elizabeth trying to hide her panic and jealousy during the long meal had made it absolutely clear: her cousin loved Thom MacGowan. Not that it would change anything. The public censure from such an unequal match—even if Randolph weren’t involved—would be horrible. Izzie wasn’t sure she would have the strength to withstand it, and she hadn’t had the difficult past that Elizabeth had.

  With Randolph involved, it would be even worse: there would also be a scandal. Setting aside a “prince” for a “peasant”… it would be the talk for years—and not the kind of talk Randolph was eager for. She could just imagine his reaction. She’d see some real emotion from him then. But anger, rage, and humiliation weren’t what she wanted.

  She wanted…

  Her chest squeezed, and she pushed it away. Stupid.

  “Sorry,” Izzie apologized, shaking it off. “I was just talking to myself again.”

  “Is something upsetting you, cousin? You’ve been quiet since we returned from the market.” Elizabeth frowned. “Did Randolph say something to irritate you again? I heard him trying to apologize for something before he left. I’d hoped that you would grow to like him better once you got to know him.”

  Izzie felt another tug. Mission accomplished. “What’s not to love,” she said with an attempt at lightheartedness, repeating her cousin’s much-loved jest about Randolph. But it didn’t sound very funny to her anymore. “He stepped on my foot,” she added quickly. “And was apologizing for crushing my toes with his boot.”

  Toes… heart, what was the difference?

  Elizabeth smiled, but Izzie could tell she was still upset.

  Joanna was waiting for them when they arrived back at the guesthouse. When she asked Elizabeth if she could take care of an errand for her, from the way her cousin suddenly perked up, Izzie didn’t need to guess who that errand involved.

  Elizabeth looked so happy that for one selfish moment, Izzie was tempted to say something about Randolph. Undoubtedly Izzie’s feelings would be the excuse Elizabeth needed to follow her heart. But as Izzie wasn’t even sure that was what she thought her cousin should do, she kept her mouth shut.

  But that wasn’t the only reason. Izzie had her pride. She didn’t want to be second choice. If Randolph wanted her—if he did care about her—he would pick her first. It was silly and unrealistic to expect maybe, but she wouldn’t settle for less.

  Still, she couldn’t help warning her cousin as she left with Joanna. “Have care, El.” She paused. “Be sure what you want before you do something you can’t take back.”

  Izzie didn’t know whether she meant doing something irreversible with Thom (like Izzie had nearly done yesterday with Randolph) or irreversible with Randolph by accepting his proposal. Maybe she meant both.

  Elizabeth caught her gaze and didn’t pretend to not understand. She nodded soberly and went after Joanna. It was Joanna who turned just as they were out the door. “Oh Izzie, I forgot to tell you. One of the monks brought a package for you. I had the maid leave it in your room.”

  Izzie’s surprise showed. “A package?”

  Jo smiled and waggled her brows. “Perhaps you have a secret admirer you haven’t told us about?”

  With a wry grin, Izzie shook her head. “I’m afraid nothing so exciting. It’s probably the woolen hose I ordered from the haberdasher.”

  They were both wrong.

  When Izzie unwrapped the leather bound codex a few min