Page 43
Story: The Highlander Who Loved Me
“If ye keep that up much longer, I fear that beast will never leave ye alone,” Malcolm warned.
“Prince is the one male in this castle whose attention I dinnae mind,” Davina answered truthfully.
Malcolm cleared his throat. Davina’s shoulders tightened as she realized how rude her comment had been, but she did not retract it. Better that Malcolm realized sooner rather than later that she did not solicit his attention.
“Dinnae be so quick to turn me away,” he said quietly. “Give it a chance, Davina. Perhaps in time yer heart will soften toward me.”
His words were heartfelt, making her reply harder. But say it she must. “I’m enjoying myself this afternoon, ’tis true, and fer that I thank ye. But I must be honest and tell ye that I willnae marry ye. I willnae marry any man, despite yer father’s determination.”
The resigned look she hoped to see on Malcolm’s face was not forthcoming. Instead, he flashed a charming, confident grin. “Then I shall be equally honest. I’ve overcome many obstacles thrown in my path. Winning yer hand is a challenge that I shall surely thrive upon.”
“What game are ye playing?” Lileas asked, pushing herself into her father’s lap. “Can I have a turn?”
“Aye, sweetheart. Ye can be on my side.” His voice dropped to a whisper, but was loud enough to hear. “Together we will win against Lady Davina.”
He was so utterly charming, Davina found it difficult to be annoyed. Her gaze shifted and she realized she was being watched. Expecting to see Aileen’s approving smile, she lifted her head and instead caught James’s hardened stare.
The moment their eyes met, he frowned and turned away. Davina forced her attention back to the game, surprised at how much his obvious indifference stung.
Despite his desire not to, James watched and brooded. Seeing Davina so cozy and relaxed playing chess with Malcolm was doing ridiculous things to James’s mood. The expression on his brother’s face was easy to read—he was being charming and seductive and ’twas obvious that Davina was enjoying the attention. The prospect of her marrying his brother suddenly loomed as a true possibility and it troubled James more than he wanted to admit.
Davina cast a shy smile at Malcolm. James clenched his fists and drew a fortifying breath. It took considerable effort to restrain himself from approaching his brother, pulling him to his feet, and punching him square in the jaw.
Though James struggled to avoid it, Davina had been reluctantly in his thoughts ever since his arrival. Thanks to his father’s mad schemes, he was now subjected to the ungainly sight of his brother paying court to her. That she might actually succumb to Malcolm’s charms was too repugnant to be considered.
If returning to the Crusades were not an impossibility, James knew he would be on the next boat. Life as a Crusader gave him a purpose, a reason to get up each morning. It also kept his mind too occupied to think overmuch on the past, to dwell on his failures.
He had matured, learned impressive fighting skills and techniques. A man with his abilities could earn a decent living in tournaments, but he would have to wait until spring if that was what he chose. In the meantime, he would simply have to grit his teeth and hope that Davina returned to her home soon after the holiday.
“Has she changed a great deal?” his mother asked.
James flinched. So great was his concentration on Davina, that he had not even heard his mother approach. He gingerly shifted on his feet, but refused to look directly at Aileen, knowing her perceptive gaze missed little.
“I assume ye are referring to Lady Davina?” he drawled.
“Who else? Years ago ye spent many months with the Armstrongs. Surely ye saw much of her.”
His vision blurred at the edges as he recalled the young lass he had loved so completely. Resentment shot through him over the happiness that had been stolen from them, but seeing no other choice, he buried it.
“Laird Armstrong’s daughter, Joan, was the great beauty of the family. A practiced flirt, who basked in male attention. All eyes were usually drawn to her. I dinnae remember much about Davina.”
James could feel the heat of embarrassment burn on the back of his neck. He was a poor liar and felt even more guilt for holding back the truth from his mother. She had loved and supported him all his life; this was hardly the way to repay her.
Aileen gave him a hard look. “Were ye there when Davina was attacked?”
His breath seized and he turned his head sharply. “What do ye know about that day?”
“Nothing. I only know that it happened and it’s part of the reason she doesn’t want to marry.”
He swallowed convulsively. He had dreaded this moment, but knew it could no longer be avoided. “’Twas my fault. I should have saved her.”
He heard his mother’s soft gasp. “Was that the reason ye left Scotland?”
“Aye.”
Aileen sniffled. “I always knew there had to be something that made ye go. Why did ye not come to us first?”
“The shame was too great.”
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