Eight
The moment they reached Dunvegan, Lachlan dismounted without a word to any of them, handed off his horse to the stable master, and left Bridgette, Rory Mac, and Neil all standing there. Bridgette watched him walk away until she could see him no more.
Beside her, Rory Mac cleared his throat, and reluctantly, seeing no other choice but to acknowledge him, she turned to him.
“Dunnae fash yerself, lass. Lachlan has spent his life defending people, and he dunnae care for people risking their lives when he feels accountable.”
“Is that an explanation or an admonishment?” she asked.
A wry smile came to Rory Mac’s lips. “Both.”
She nodded and rubbed at her neck, weariness settling in, which she suspected was as much from the bulls’ attacks as from her confusion regarding Lachlan. “I’ll see ye both at supper,” she offered feebly as the stable master saw to her horse. She had no intention of going to the great hall tonight, but she was not going to announce that. Both men offered farewells, and as she turned, she caught their exchange of puzzled expressions.
As she made her way to her bedchamber and plodded over to her bed to sit, her mind turned with confusion. She went through the day repeatedly in her head; each time ended with her seeing Lachlan fiercely angry and then full of fear. She was sure now he had been angry because he had feared for her life more than angry at her defying his orders. And the flame of desire had burned unmistakably in his eyes when he’d gripped her arms, but there was something else there—something gentler, more intimate.
A banging came at her door, but before she could even answer it, the door burst open and Marion charged in. She rushed over to the bed and sat down beside Bridgette. “I’ve just heard about the assault!”
So quickly? “How—”
“Lachlan,” Marion interrupted, exasperation and worry clear on her face.
Bridgette stared at her, her mind feeling slow.
Marion let out a sigh. “He’s in our bedchamber speaking with Iain. He went straight there, asked me attend to you—which I would have done anyway—then asked for privacy with Iain. What did you do to Lachlan?”
Bridgette gaped at her normally sweet friend, who at this moment looked rather vexed. She narrowed her eyes feeling suddenly vexed herself. She knew well Marion’s anger had the best intentions behind it, but she was rather tired of anger being directed at her today.
“What did I do to him, ye ask?” She could feel her temper starting to boil, and she was about to lash out at Marion when Marion nodded.
“Yes, what did you do? I’ve never seen such a look on his face. He looked…” Marion cocked her head. “Well, he looked defeated.”
All the anger drained at once and all that was left was confusion, which made Bridgette’s temples pound. She pressed her fingertips to her temples as she stared at Marion. “I’m unsure,” she whispered, and then quickly told Marion of Lachlan’s orders, her disobeying them, the bulls’ assaults, and how Lachlan had reacted afterward.
Marion grinned and then grasped Bridgette’s hands in hers. “Dearest, for one so very smart you are so very blind. He cares for you!”
Happiness infused Bridgette, but she ruthlessly quashed it and snorted. “He dunnae care for me,” she growled even as her mind grappled with the possibility and the fleeting moment of happiness and lasting sadness that its truth would cause. “For one, he’s made pledges of a future with Helena and plainly said it was out of desire, and for another, I saw him kissing Lillias in the courtyard last night. The man is lustful and wants to conquer one more woman. ’Tis simple.”
Marion arched an eyebrow at Bridgette but said nothing.
After a long spell, Bridgette began to squirm under Marion’s expectant gaze. “What do ye desire from me?” Bridgette asked angrily.
Marion simply arched her eyebrows higher.
“He’s…he’s bound to another woman!” Bridgette sputtered.
“Yes,” Marion acknowledged in a cool tone. “But that is a temporary thing and is not as he has led you to believe. Just as your notion of marrying Graham is not out of love as everyone believes.”
Bridgette frowned. “Are ye saying Lachlan dunnae want to marry Helena?”
Marion pressed her lips together as if struggling to hold in words. “It’s not for me to say. You must ask him.”
Bridgette threw her hands up in exasperation. “I suppose ye think I should ask him of Lillias, as well?”
Marion nodded. “You really should. That woman likely threw herself at him, and he was nice enough not to shove her away.”
Hope rose in Bridgette, which irritated her. “Even if he dunnae want to be bound to Helena and Lillias threw herself at him, I am still bound to a future with Graham.”
“How do you think you will be able to be married to a man you do not love while pining for his brother who has your heart?” Marion asked gently.
Bridgette sighed with disgruntlement. “Graham risked his life to save mine and suffered a grave injury because of me. I owe him, and what he wants is my hand in marriage, so I’ll give it.”
“I don’t think marrying because you feel guilty is wise. And I think Graham also wants your heart…” Marion gave Bridgette a pointed look.
Bridgette scowled at her Sassenach friend who did not totally understand the Scottish ways yet. “We Scots live and die by honor and guilt, Marion. It would be dishonorable of me to overlook what he did for me.”
Marion’s lips pressed into a thin line. “It would be wrong for you to marry a man you do not love. In doing so, you steal away the possibility of love for yourself and him.”
Marion’s words struck deep within Bridgette. She’d not considered that she would be cheating Graham out of a chance to find a woman who truly loved him. She had told him that her heart belonged to another, and he had said it didn’t matter, but had he really considered that he could find a woman whose heart belonged fully and completely to him?
“Ye’re right. I kinnae marry him,” she whispered, the certainty filling her.
Marion’s eyes widened as she hugged Bridgette. “Thank heaven you have finally listened to me and accepted the truth! I’ve been so worried that you would proceed with the marriage no matter what!”
Bridgette nodded. “I would have. I’ve been intending to. But I kinnae. I will be ruining his chances to find true love.” She’d been prepared to sacrifice her own chances, but she could not sacrifice his.
Marion nodded. “He’s going to try to change your mind.”
“Aye,” Bridgette agreed. “He’s going to be angry with me.”
“Yes, likely very. You and Lachlan will need to wait a spell before—
Bridgette scrambled to her feet and rounded on her well-meaning, hopelessly impractical friend who was ignoring the truth because it suited her. But Bridgette could not ignore it, even for a breath. “How do ye ken Lachlan and I would ever occur?” Bridgette demanded, borrowing Marion’s tactic of moments ago.
Marion bit her lip. “Perchance if Graham finds love with someone else, then Lachlan would allow himself to be with you.”
Bridgette snorted. “Marion MacLeod, ye’re a dreamer. I’ve given up on the fantasy of Lachlan and me, and ye need to, as well. Vow to me ye won’t meddle.”
Marion quirked her mouth. “But—”
“Pledge it to me,” Bridgette asserted again.
Guilt flashed across Marion’s face.
Bridgette groaned. “Did ye tell Iain of my feelings for Lachlan?”
“I don’t remember telling him,” Marion said, her fidgeting suggesting she either implied something to Iain or was lying.
Bridgette squeezed her eyes shut and silently reminded herself that Marion had done what she had out of love. “Dunnae tell Iain I’ll nae be marrying Graham. Please. I’d hate for Graham to learn it from anyone but me.”
“I won’t. I vow it,” Marion replied.
When Bridgette opened her eyes, Marion was standing. “I have to away to try to find some herbs that I desperately need but have thus far been unable to locate.”
Normally Bridgette would offer to help, but it was getting late and she was very tired. After Marion departed, Bridgette stripped to only her léine, climbed into bed, and fell immediately asleep. Before too long, dreams of Lachlan filled her head.
“I’d like to kiss ye to give ye a better memory,” Lachlan said, staring at her with heavy-lidded eyes.
“I dunnae think a kiss has that much power,” she said.
Lachlan’s mouth claimed hers in a kiss that stole her breath. He quickly moved from her mouth to her neck and then to her chest. His lips brushed a searing path down her skin while his fingers deftly pulled down her gown. A cool breeze hit her bare skin and gave her gooseflesh, but when his fiery mouth came to her breast and he suckled it, she no longer felt the slightest bit chilled. She was on fire with how much she wanted him. Her back arched toward him in a desperate attempt to have him take more of her body into his hot mouth. His hands slid over her hips and down to the edge of her gown. As he raised it up, his hand glided between her thighs, only stopping when he touched her at her juncture. His fingers brushed light as a feather over her sensitive spot, and a cry of need tore from her lips.