The Bedeviled Heart (The Highland Heather and Hearts Scottish Romance Series) (18 page)

She knew she should run, but she was strangely rooted to the spot.

“Kate!” Cameron’s long fingers grasped her shoulders, giving them a little shake. “Kate!”

She stared, unable to speak.

And then fair-haired Julian appeared. With a warm, sympathetic smile, the man dipped into an elaborate bow. “I am the Lord Julian Gray, my sweet Kate, and I am most pleased to make your acquaintance.”

It had to be some horrible dream. “No!” she heard herself whisper.

Cameron winced and clenched his jaw, murmuring, “Forgive me, Kate.”

Nodding at Cameron, Julian said the dreaded words, “And this, unfortunately, is Cameron Malcolm Stewart, Earl of Lennox, Lord of Ballachastell and Inchmurrin.”

Kate closed her eyes.

Fate was cruel.

Ach, but he must have been amused at their first meeting. Her heart felt torn asunder. He had merely been playing her for the fool! And she had fallen for it, given herself to him, and even foolishly dreamt of wedding him and giving him bairns!

Now she understood his reaction only a few hours ago. Aye, an earl would never wed a mere maid. He’d used her for bed-sport and she’d blithely welcomed it. A deep anger rose, dispelling her stupor. Of its own accord, her hand reached up and slapped him across the face.

He didn’t move or try to avoid the blow. He stood there. His hands clenched into fists.

Julian folded his arms and winked at her with an understanding smile. “Aye, I’d say he deserves more than that, Kate.”

Then suddenly, Kate became aware of Lady Elsa shrieking and the gasps of those circled around her, and the full horror of what she had done struck her.

She had just slapped an earl. And not just any earl. One with blood ties to the royal family—a Stewart.

Swallowing bitterly, she forced her wooden lips to apologize, “Forgive me, my lord…”

The words stuck in her throat.

It was nigh impossible to think of him as a noble, but she had only to look at him to see that he was. How had she missed it? Why hadn’t she stopped to think?

“I must have amused ye right well!” The words tumbled from her lips. “And I even swore that I loved ye!” She gulped back sudden tears.

“Forgive me, Kate,” he whispered hoarsely.

She eyed him fiercely and vowed, “Never!” And then remembering his station, belatedly stammered, “M-my lord.”

“Kate, ye swore ye wouldn’t judge me.” He swallowed, his dark eyes radiating distress. “Mind ye, Kate, that ye swore that day in the woods, that ye would understand! Whatever it was—”

She blinked, and then retorted angrily, “I lied, ye fool!”

Again, the onlookers gasped.

Clapping her hand over her mouth, she gulped, “I-I meant to call ye my lord earl, my lord!” Tears threatened.

Cameron blanched, and dragging a hard breath, asked bitterly, “Is being an earl so unforgiveable? Is it worse than an outlaw?”

How could she answer the man? She longed to disappear, to run far away.

“What is the meaning of this, Kate?” Lady Elsa was asking.

Suddenly, it was all too much. Not knowing what else to do, Kate gathered her skirts and bolted.

A flurry of voices called after her, but she heard Cameron’s rise above all others, “Let me go! I’ll not lose her like this! Not like this! Leave me be!”

More v
oices erupted, but she paid them little heed.

Somehow, she reached the courtyard. She kept running, the commotion from the hall fading behind her as she stumbled on.

“Kate!”

She whirled.

Cameron had followed.

Angrily, she hoisted her skirts higher and flew down a flight of twisting, narrow steps but at the bottom, she came to an abrupt halt, barely retaining enough presence of mind to recognize the fact that she had stumbled into the royal gardens.

She could not proceed. She could not risk the severe punishment. She whirled to leave just as Cameron barreled around the last step and collided into her, slamming her back against the garden’s stone wall.

They stood there, breathing heavily. Feeling his chest pressed against hers summoned unbidden memories of the night before. His voice had been soothing, gentle, and his lips had teased her into a multitude of pleasurable sensations.

How had it suddenly gone so wrong?

A gust of wind swept through the garden, snapping the royal pennants above them and breaking the spell.

Cameron stepped back. “I told ye to forget me, Kate,” he said hoarsely, his dark eyes snaring hers. “Now, ye surely see why!”

Raising her chin, she replied tightly, “Aye. You are an earl. Ye’d never wed a lass such as me.”

“Aye.” He curled his hands into fists. “I’ll not be responsible for another death.” His voice was strangely thick.

At that, she paused. Everyone knew the Earl of Lennox had wed seven times, and three of his wives had given him daughters. She had not realized she could hurt even more. Closing her eyes, she whispered, “Ach, ye have bairns.”

He didn’t respond.

She took a deep breath, unsure of what to feel.

“I’ll not see ye again, Kate.” He finally broke the silence between them. “But I’ll see ye taken care of. I—”

Tossing her head, she shoved him back, hard. “I’ll not take a coin from ye. I’ll pay ye back the shilling, and for the water from the Pilgrim’s Well.” Glancing down at her gown, she suddenly realized exactly where it had come from. Yanking at the fabric, she added almost hysterically, “Aye and I’ll be happy wearing my own clothing. I canna be rid of this accursed gown fast enough!”

He went white.

She turned her back on him then, and fled up the stairs, letting the tears flow unchecked down her cheeks.

Aye, she was done with Stirling Castle.

Once inside Lady Elsa’s chamber, she quickly changed into her brown dress and tucking the water from the Pilgrim’s Well in her sleeve, turned to leave only to find Maura and Lady Elsa standing at the door.

“And what potion have ye there, Kate?” Maura’s sharp eyes were livid. “Is that how ye bespelled the earl?”

“Silence!” Lady Elsa ordered haughtily. Stepping close, she whispered through trembling lips, “Aye, the earl is a man, Kate. While he might happily bed a wanton like you when you strike his fancy, he’ll never make you respectable. He’ll choose a fine, upright lady, such as I, to stand by his side, someone of breeding and distinction. He’ll never choose a whore. You are ruined! No good man will want you—”

“Silence, ye thoughtless lass!”

All three of them jumped back, startled to see Lord Julian Gray duck his head to step into the chamber.

“Come, my sweet.” The fair-haired lord gently extended his hand to Kate. “Shall we quit this foolish place?”

Numbly, she allowed him to guide her out into the courtyard even as she heard Maura pleading desperately from behind her, “Don’t go, Kate! Don’t leave me! I want that potion! Ye have to make me bonny, Kate! Please, just make me bonny!”

Snorting at the woman under his breath, Julian pulled Kate along by the wrist through Stirling’s gates to the town outside its mighty walls. Towering over her, the man kindly brushed a curl behind her ear before leaning down to plant a brotherly kiss on her forehead.

“Cameron loves ye, Kate,” he said softly. “The foolish lad fears he’s cursed and that his touch will cause ye harm, even death. The fool thinks to drive ye away to protect ye. Be patient with the man. He’s given ye his heart.”

Overwhelmed, Kate simply stared at him. Only the day before, those words would have made her heart sing. Now, she glanced away, disbelieving. And even if she were foolish enough to believe, the man was an earl. There was no hope in it.

“Ach, this story is not yet finished, lass,” Julian said with an amiable chuckle. “But tell me where might I escort ye this fine day?”

Kate looked up into the bright sky. Only a day ago, she had thought the world to be turning into a fine and promising place. Now, she could see little promise anywhere.

“Thank ye kindly, my lord.” She bowed into a deep curtsey. “But I’ll take no more of your time. May ye have a good day.”

With that, she turned on her heel and strode down Castle Hill.

Aye, she’d treat her father’s eyes with the water from the Pilgrim’s Well, and then they would both leave at once for Edinburgh. There was plenty of work to be had there. She’d pay the earl back his coin and then, as he had asked, forget him.

Aye, she had no choice but to forget him.

Hot tears threatened, but she slapped her cheeks, forcing them away. “Ach, ye are such a fool! Ye canna weep over this. Ye willna weep over this, ye fool!”

Finally back at Maura’s cottage, she kissed her father in greeting and silently bathed his eyes until his gentle prodding finally induced her to speak. She had scarcely said three words before he asked her what ailed her and his understanding, tender hug unleashed the torrent of tears that she swore she would never shed.

With her head upon his lap, she confessed her folly, leaving nothing unsaid. Her thin shoulders shaking with despair.

“Ach, my wee bairn.” Her father compassionately ran his palm over her head. “’Tis a tale as old as time—the love betwixt a lad and a lass.”

“But he doesna love me,” she whispered.

“If ye say so, my wee one,” he replied. “But know ye this. I’ll always love ye, and I know ‘tis only your warm heart that led ye down this path. ‘Twas the same path as your mother before ye, my wee bairn.”

Surprised, Kate lifted her head.

“’
Tis why she asked ye to think so often. She saw so much of herself in ye. But I never regretted that ye came to us only several months after we wed. My ship was months late, and ‘twas a fair surprise to see your wee mother waiting for me on the docks with a burgeoning belly.” There was a smile in his voice.

Kate froze.

Not only because of her parents’ secret, but more so from the fact that she’d never once thought of the possible consequence of the night before.

Surely, it took more than once to make a bairn?

“Whatever the future brings us, my sweet wee one, we’ll find our path together, I promise ye,” her father was saying.

Overwhelmed, Kate
held her father’s hands tightly. They were prematurely aged, dry, and wrinkled. With a pang, she remembered they had always been strong, brown, and smelling of fish from the many hours on the lochs.

How could she take care of him?

And now she had a new concern.

Sweet Mary, she prayed she did not carry a bairn. How could she feed it?

Bowing her head, she clenched her fists.

Aye. This was a lesson she would never forget. She would not only think twice, but thrice from this moment forward.

Chapter Eight - The Prophecy

Cameron stood in the door of his chambers, unwilling to enter, staring at the freshly made bed with a sense of loss that threatened to undo him. Images of Kate danced through his mind. Aye, she had been the purest pleasure he had ever experienced.

How had he forgotten that fate denied him such pleasure?

What had he done?

He closed his eyes, filled with horror at his lack of control.

Never had he felt such a love. Aye, his time with her had been short, but he knew he loved the lass more than he loved anything.

What if he had already condemned Kate to an untimely death? There would be no penance for that crime.

He struck the door with his fist.

His behavior was unforgiveable.

And even if fate spared her and he had not consigned her to a life of imminent doom, he had most certainly broken her heart. He would never forget the look on her face when she had realized his identity. She had seemed lost. Forlorn. Betrayed.

While he wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms for eternity, he loved her too much to deny her the best chance of a long life. Aye, he must love her enough to let her go and to never touch her again. Such a life would be an endless torture for him, but for Kate he could endure such loneliness.

Mayhap her broken heart would heal over time.

It was his lot to stand, watching from afar.

He drew a long, dragging breath and closed his eyes when a horrifying thought struck him.

No one in the Great Hall had missed the exchange. Now, his enemies knew his weakness. He wasn’t a fool. In court, he knew those who willingly kissed his cheek in greeting would hardly hesitate to knife him or poison his food if it suited their purposes.

Now, Kate was a target.

Fear rippled through him, along with the sinking realization that it was already beginning. Already, he had set in motion the fate that would rob her of life.