Page 28 of Healing the Highland Sinner (Tales of the Maxwell Lasses #7)

CHAPTER 28

T hey slipped out of the pool and rather than reveling in the afterglow of their passion, Ellair got dressed, with a sense of dread gripping his soul. He sat on a rock and pulled on his boots, watching Rosalind do the same across from him. She finished first and stepped over to Ellair, staring down at him with a curious but nervous expression on her face. He tugged on his boots and tried to swallow down the lump in his throat as he got to his feet.

As he looked into Rosalind’s emerald green eyes, he felt his heart swell in his chest. She made him feel things he never had imagined himself feeling before. She had opened him up in ways he never thought he could. Without even trying, Rosalind had kicked down doors in his heart, which he’d long ago boarded up and vowed to himself he would never open again.

And yet now, staring into the eyes of the woman he knew he’d come to love, he knew he would shatter that bond that had grown between them. She too, like everybody else in his life, would go away. But this time, he had nobody to blame but himself.

And yet, Ellair knew if he did not do this himself, somebody else would. he knew if somebody else were to share the truth with Rosalind, it would be even worse than sharing it himself. Perhaps, if he came clean with her, there would be some path back to redemption. If he did not, he knew that path would be forever burned.

“What is it then?” she asked. “What is it ye needed tae tell me?”

He sighed and ran a hand through his wavy locks and tried to quell the churning in his belly. Ellair swallowed and licked his lips, his mouth suddenly as dry as desert sand. Unable to meet her gaze, he could feel Rosalind’s eyes pressing down on him.

“Get on with it. What is it?”

Ellair turned and stared out at the ocean across the sand, watching the white foam of the waves break onto the shore. He suddenly wished he and Rosalind could abscond somewhere across the sea and live a life together, free of smugglers and lairds, free of those who moved them about like pieces on a chessboard. A life free of all their fears and feelings, save for those they held for each other. A life free to be together, to be happy.

For a time, Ellair’s life had been simple and he’d been happy enough. He had not wanted much and truly desired even less. But then Laird Gunn had put him in front of Rosalind and everything had changed. She’d stormed into his life and turned it all upside down. All of a sudden, instead of being content to do his duty, his loyalty to his own laird without question, now he wanted more. He wanted Rosalind. He wanted her more than anything he’d ever wanted in his entire life.

And now, he was about to lose her.

“Ellair,” she pressed. “What is it?”

The longer he remained silent, the more tense she seemed to be getting. He could only imagine the nightmare scenarios playing out in her head and knew he had to speak before they got worse… or before he lost his nerve.

“Rosalind, it kills me tae tell ye this, but I’ve been deceivin’ ye this whole time.”

She recoiled like he’d just slapped her, a stricken expression on her face. “Wh—what dae ye mean, Ellair? What the hell are ye talkin’ about?”

He sighed. “I’m nae just a hired sword who happened tae find ye. I was sent.”

Rosalind gaped at him with wide eyes, her mouth hanging open as a look of disbelief crossed her face. She seemed to take a moment, trying to understand what he’d said as if he’d spoken in some foreign tongue. Eventually, she closed her mouth and shook her head.

“I—I dinnae understand,” she said.

A chasm opened in the pit of his stomach and part of his mind screamed at him to abandon this course, to double back and go back to how things between him and Rosalind had been. To stay quiet about his reason for being there and ride it out, enjoy every last moment with her he could, until it all came crashing down.

Ellair shut that voice in his head down ruthlessly. It had already gone too far. The feelings they both carried for each other were real and he was going to hurt her. He hoped that by confessing his sins to her, he would somehow mitigate that pain and hopefully, find a path to forgiveness. His hopes were not high, but a sliver of hope was better than none.

“Me name is Ellair, that much is true,” he told her. “But I’m nae a hired sword. I’m the War Chief for Clan MacAulay. And on the instruction of me laird, I’ve been workin’ with Laird Torrin Gunn tae uncover the smugglers aidin’ and abettin’ Laird Sinclair?—”

“What are ye bleedin’ talkin’ about?”

“I’m tryin’ tae tell ye,” he said. “I’ve been workin’ at the behest of Laird Gunn. He wanted me tae find and stop the arms bein’ sent tae his rivals by Sinclair and the English.”

Her eyes shimmering with tears, Rosalind sank to her knees in the soft sand of the cave. She stared at Ellair, the look of betrayal on her face slicing through his heart like a scythe. A single tear spilled from the corner of her eye and streamed down her face. She shook her head and turned away from him, as if trying to deny the truth of it, even to herself.

“Were ye sent tae kill me?” she asked without turning to him.

He shook his head. “Nay. I wasnae sent tae kill ye.”

“Then what was yer purpose?”

“Laird Gunn wanted me tae find out who ye were. He wants?—”

“He wants tae kill me.”

“He didnae fully understand the situation.”

“So, he did mean tae kill me.”

Ellair shook his head. “I’ve explained the situation tae him. I told him about Blaine?—”

Rosalind’s eyes widened and her lips curled back in a feral sneer. “Ye had nay right tae tell him about me braither?—”

“I told him about yer braither tae explain that Sinclair was extortin’ ye. That he was forcin’ ye tae smuggle his goods intae the Highlands fer him.”

She sniffed back a fresh batch of tears and began to rise. Ellair held out a hand to help Rosalind to her feet, but she slapped it away, her face etched with anger. Pain rippling through his heart, Ellair withdrew his hand and took a step back, doing his best to control the emotions roiling in his belly. He wanted to make her understand.

“I ken I deceived ye, Rosalind. And I hate that I did?—”

“And yet, ye did it anyway,” she cut him off, her tone as acidic as her gaze.

“I didnae expect tae feel fer ye the way I dae,” he said. “I was daein’ me duty. Daein’ what me laird instruct me tae dae?—”

“Just daein’ yer duty,” she huffed.

“Aye. Tis true. But… things changed,” he said. “Ye changed me. Ye made me see that what ye were daein’ was nae what Laird Gunn thought it was. That ye had nay choice.”

She turned her back on him and took a few steps away, her arms folded over her chest, her posture stiff and rigid. The anger radiating from her was like heat from a fire. She stood like that for several long moments, not speaking to him, simply staring out at the ocean beyond. The silence stretched on so long, Ellair was about to say something just to break the awkward tension in the air when she finally turned around. And when she did, he felt his heart drop into the pit of his belly.

Her arms still folded over her chest, Rosalind’s eyes were narrowed and her jaw set, her lips a tight slash across her face. She glared at him coldly, her expression saying she wished she could cleave his head from his shoulders.

“I’m tryin’ tae protect ye, Rosalind,” he said softly.

She scoffed. “Is that what ye call it?”

“Aye. ‘Tis what I’m tryin’ tae dae.”

“Dae ye ken what I call it? What I call watchin’ everythin’ me and mine dae then runnin’ off tae report tae yer maisters like a trained dog?” she spat. “I call that spyin’. Ye’re a bleedin’ spy, Ellair. A bleedin’ pathetic rat spy.”

“’Tis nae what I’m daein’,” he said, feeling his heart shattering. “I’m tryin’ tae?—”

“Save it. Ye’re nae tryin’ tae protect anybody but yer precious laird and yerself.”

“If that was true, I’d have never confessed tae ye. I’d have never told ye who I really am and just let Laird Gunn dae as he willed.”

That seemed to catch her off guard and she paused for a moment, some small bit of the venom in her expression fading. But only for a moment.

“It daesnae matter,” she said. “What daes yer laird want from me then, eh?”

Ellair sighed. “He wants ye tae let the ship Sinclair ordered ye tae seize tae pass through,” he said miserably. “He wants the shipment tae get tae his lands.”

“Oh, he daes, daes he?”

Ellair nodded. “Aye.”

“And what of me braither if I dae that?” she asked. “If I dae that, Sinclair will kill him.”

“I think we both ken he willnae. Ye’re far too valuable tae him.”

“Easy fer ye tae say. ‘Tis nae yer braither’s life in the balance.”

Ellair ran a hand over his face and turned away for a moment. “Aye. ‘Tis nae. Ye’re right about that,” he conceded. “But I’ve got a good enough read on the man tae believe what I’m sayin’ is the truth of things. Sinclair still needs ye. Ye’ve still got value tae him. And so long as ye dae, he’s never goin’ tae hurt Blaine. Nae fer real.”

“Some of us dinnae have the luxury of guessin’ like that.”

“’Tis nae a guess. I’ve dealt with people like Sinclair all me life. Gotten tae ken how tae read them pretty well,” he replied. “Lettin’ that shipment pass will anger him plenty, sure. But so long as he can use ye, he will. And one shipment will nae sink yer relationship with him. It could, however, be enough tae tip the balance of war. If that shipment gets through, it could be enough tae cause war in the Highlands, Rosalind.”

“And if there be war, yer precious laird may wind up with a blade in his guts.”

“Gunn is nae me laird,” he said. “But… eventually, if Gunn falls, it may come around tae me laird too. Aye. Ye’re nae wrong.”

She stared at him for another long, quiet moment. Ellair squirmed beneath her scrutiny, wincing at the rage he saw in her eyes.

“So,” she finally said. “It comes down tae daein’ as Sinclair ordered and let war erupt in the Highlands, with him takin’ over everythin’. Or I dae as yer laird wants and risk me braither’s life, which regardless of what ye say about me value tae Sinclair, ‘tis what I’d be daein’.”

Ellair frowned and kicked a small seashell near the toe of his boot. “Aye. I suppose that is what’s at stake,” he said softly.

“Quite the choice ye’re givin’ me.”

“I’m nae givin’ it tae ye, Rosalind,” he said. “I’m only tellin’ ye what is.”

“Sure. Now ye are. After weeks of deceivin’ me.”

Ellair knew there was nothing he could say to fix that damage. He could stand atop the mountain and proclaim the depth of his feelings for her at the top of his voice and she would still call him a liar. His deception had broken something. Permanently.

“What will ye dae?” he asked softly.

“I’ll let ye ken.”

And with that, Rosalind turned on her heel and stormed away. He had tried, hoped that his honesty would lead to a path of redemption and forgiveness. But by the look she’d given him just before turning away from him, there would be no forgiveness found. She was done with him.

As the waves crashed with a thunderous roar, Ellair threw his head back and screamed until his throat was raw and his voice hoarse. He sank to his knees and bowed his head, feeling like his heart had shattered into ten thousand pieces and there was no way to put it back together again.