Page 20 of Jack (Highland Outlaws #1)

Jack remembered when they were in the forest, the way her eyes had sparkled with happiness as she smiled up at the canopy of leaves and reveled in the feel of the wind lifting her unbound hair.

Mayhap Quinn was right, and she was not meant for a life of empty luxury.

Finding his own resolve, he straightened in his seat, knowing in his heart of hearts that she deserved freedom, laughter, and joy.

The arched doorway opened, stealing Jack’s attention. A manservant came into the room. “Lord Trevelyan and Lady Redesdale,” he announced, his voice echoing off the tall ceiling.

Jack tensed. His pulse raced. This would be the first time he would look upon her since arriving in Berwick.

Sweat beaded his brow. Their bench scraped the floor as he, Quinn, the abbot, and the other monks stood out of respect for the lady of the house.

Jack pressed his lips tight to silence the snarl that fought to be released as Isabella appeared in the doorway on Lord Trevelyan’s arm.

She was dressed in a tunic and surcote of midnight blue that seemed to shimmer with each step she took.

Her olive skin stood out in sharp contrast against the white of her fitted wimple.

Sweeping down from her elaborate headdress were layers of silken veils.

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

He sought her gaze as she passed to see even a glimmer of the affection they had shared, but her eyes remained downcast. His heart pounded in his chest while his gaze followed her across the length of the great hall and then to the high dais where she sat next to her betrothed.

His view of the high table was suddenly blocked as a servant set a platter of roasted meats on the table.

The meal was a lavish affair with bowls of steaming soup, meat pies, and loaves of fresh bread.

While servants buzzed around the table, he stared up at her, willing her to look his way, yet still she kept her gaze aloft.

Why would she not even look at him? Her gaze shifted to look out the windows, at the hearth, anywhere but at him. Did she regret the moments they had shared in the forest?

He tried to push away his thoughts and instead focused on the food in front of him. But no matter how hard he tried, his gaze kept wandering back to Bella. The way the candlelight danced on her veils, the curve of her neck, the way her hair peeked out from beneath her headdress.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Quinn looking at him with concern. “Are ye all right, brother?”

Jack shook his head. “I can’t do this. I can’t sit here and watch her with another man.

” He clenched his teeth while Lord Trevelyan leaned close to whisper something in her ear.

She smiled at first and then laughed outright.

Her gaze held warmth when she looked at her betrothed.

He could see her affection for him even from across the room.

Lord Trevelyan looked up then and locked eyes with Jack.

A friendly smile played at his lips. Then he stood and raised his cup high.

“I drink to the health of the good Benedictine Brothers. Thank you for your aid in restoring Lady Redesdale back to her family.” Hugh took a long sip from his cup, then placed a hand on Bella’s shoulder and looked down at her with love and tenderness etched on his face.

“Have you any kind words you wish to bestow upon our humble yet heroic company?”

Jack held his breath and waited for her to turn his way.

His heart hammered in his ears while she kept her silence.

At last, she looked up. Her gaze swept the room, then settled on Jack.

Their eyes locked. Her face remained impassive.

His chest tightened. For a moment, he was sure that she was going to speak to him, but then her gaze flickered away.

She turned back to her betrothed. “I have nothing to say.”

Jack’s nostrils flared. He felt a coldness settle over him. It was as if a door had been slammed in his face.

“Brother Peter,” the abbot said quietly, leaning past Quinn to look at Jack. “Yer face has gone from red to purple. Remember the robe ye wear. A monk does not look with daggers at his host.”

Jack shifted his gaze to his food and took a deep breath. “Did ye eat my pigeon pie?” he whispered accusingly to Quinn.

“Wheest, Jack,” Quinn whispered. “Get a hold of yerself. Pigeon pie was three courses ago.”

He glared at his brother, who merely raised his eyebrows and took a bite of his own food.

Jack swallowed hard, biting back the harsh words that threatened to spill from his lips.

He knew he was being foolish, that he had no right to expect anything from Bella.

They had only shared a few stolen moments in the forest, moments that apparently were now long gone.

But as he watched her laugh and smile with Hugh, he couldn’t help the ache in his chest. His mind raced with thoughts of what could have been, of a life where they were happy together.

Jack leaned back while a servant removed his untouched plate and set yet another course in front of him.

He thought of his many children spread throughout the Scottish countryside who, at times, he had struggled to keep fed and looked at the food with disgust. The display of entitled gluttony and waste when so many went hungry provoked his ire to new heights.

His fury became too great to contain. He pushed the bench back and stood.

It was either leave that very moment or reveal the truth of his identity by behaving in the most unholy manner.

Another second within the hall while she dangled her lord and her wealth in front of him and he was going to storm the high dais and beat Lord Trevelyan to within an inch of life.

“Brother Peter,” Quinn hissed, but Jack ignored him and convention all together.

He rose, and without a word to anyone, he stormed towards the door.

He could feel the eyes of the others on his back, but he didn’t care.

He needed to escape the oppressiveness of the great hall, and as far as he could tell, he had no further business in the Redesdale fortress.

He had come for Bella, but she was nowhere to be found. In her stead was the Lady Redesdale, who was cold and aloof, and of no interest to him.