Courage Of A Highlander by Emilia Ferguson

Author:Emilia Ferguson [Ferguson, Emilia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: MountainSky House Publishing Co.
Published: 2018-06-08T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

UNDERSTANDING AND MISUNDERSTANDING

UNDERSTANDING AND MISUNDERSTANDING

Camden felt numb. He stood in the courtyard, looked out over the flagstones, and wondered why he felt as if the world could crack and disappear before him and he would scarce notice.

I can't leave now.

He wanted to scream at the envoy from his father, to shake the man until his teeth rattled. Why now? And why North? Why could he not stay here?

“If I form part of the defense of the castle, I can stay here.”

His home was here now. Not in the north. Not with his father and his endless demands.

“My lord?”

He sighed and turned a baleful gaze on the footman who appeared behind him.

“Yes? What is it?” he snapped.

The man went a shade paler. “Lord Camden? You're...you're asked for in the great hall.”

Camden drew in a long, shuddering breath. Closed his eyes a moment. He had no desire whatsoever to have to give a speech now, to rally the men of Buccleigh. To say goodbye.

He sighed. “I'll come directly.”

As the man scurried off, Camden felt a strong wish for someone to just shoot him from the woodlands beyond the gate. It would seem an improvement.

My wife hates me. My father considers me dispensable. My new family treats me with cautious distaste. Why am I here?

Huffing out a hurt sigh, he headed toward the great hall. He waited a moment or two to compose himself. He would doubtless face the household staff, maybe the guardsmen too. The duke and his lady. He would have to prepare himself. He let out a long, shuddering breath, closed his eyes and reached for the last reserves of his strength.

I'm ready.

He headed into the hall. It was empty, save for one person.

“Rubina?”

He stared. In the shadow caused by a long shaft of light from the high clerestory window, she was almost hidden. Her hair, half-concealed beneath a chiffon veil, blazed out, his sole indication of her presence. She was wearing a pale dress of white linen. She turned to face him.

“Camden,” she said.

Her voice was strained and when he looked into her face he was fairly sure she looked like she'd been crying. She must be sorrowing still about all that went before this, about her sudden and abrupt troth-plight to a man she now feared. It was just not possible she was crying because of him.

“Rubina,” he whispered. He raised a hand and, without thinking about it, stroked her hair. She closed her eyes. He stepped closer and enfolded her in his arms.

He looked into her eyes and suddenly realized what he was doing. Stepped back, tense.

“My lady,” he whispered. “You called me?”

She frowned up at him. This close he could see that there were indeed tears balanced on her lashes. He wished he could do something – wipe them away. His finger was poised above her cheek before he moved his hand.

“Yes,” she murmured. “I...” she turned away, her long dress making a soft whisper of sound. “I heard you would go.”

Camden swallowed hard. He felt his own hands reach for the sleeves of his tunic.

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