Page 24 of Taken by the Highland Villain (Breaking the Highland Rules #2)

Jude grunted as he rose from where he’d been leaning against the table, breathless, boneless, and spent. Valerie’s climax had prompted his own, and it had been all he could do to ensure that his release spilled on the floor, rather than staining his new kilt. The new kilt Valerie had made for him.

Fortunately, he had a strip of cloth he used for wiping away sweat during training or ink from too many hours spent writing.

He fished it from the pouch at his belt and cleaned up the mess, then heaved himself to his feet.

His knee throbbed from the prolonged contact with the rough stone, but he’d endured worse, and the ache was easily ignored.

He helped Valerie sit up. He itched to tend to her, but she took the cloth from his hand and began to clean herself before he could touch her, her face flushed.

Jude sighed and stepped back while she cleaned herself up and fixed her dress, realizing that her independent nature was reasserting itself.

He had been wondering, ever since hearing the news from Moira, what he would say, how he would respond to her bold declaration. After hearing her confession and feeling once again the passion they so clearly shared, his response came easily.

“I’ll write to yer braither-in-law. Or yer elder sister, if ye think she’d be the better one to approach.”

Valerie blinked, her expression puzzled. “Why would ye? Ye dinnae have to marry me. I already told ye, it was something I said in haste and foolishness. There’s nay point in writing to Conall, unless ye’ve changed yer mind about marrying me. And ye shouldnae do that unless ye truly mean it.”

Jude swallowed hard. He wanted to say that he did mean it, that he had every intention of marrying her. But he couldn’t lie to her. “I cannae.”

Valerie’s eyes darkened, her expression becoming grave. “Why? Will ye nae tell me that much, at least? Why ye willnae even consider… I dinnae wish to marry either, but ye…”

“I cannae. It isnae a matter of whether I wish to or nae—I simply cannae.” Jude shook his head again.

“Valerie… if I wed ye, if I chose ye and ye came to harm in my care, I’d nae be able to endure it.

I cannae risk it. And I ken all too well that I cannae protect ye either.

I’ve failed too many of those I cared for; I cannae fail ye too. ”

Her jaw clenched. “What do ye mean, ye cannae risk it? That ye ken ye cannae defend me? Need I remind ye that ye’ve already saved me multiple times?

” Her gaze flicked downward, then back up.

“Moira hinted that somethin’ had happened—somethin’ that made ye retreat to the dark and gloom. Is it for the same reason?”

“Connected to it, aye.”

Jude would rather swallow rocks than speak of that night, but Valerie’s expression indicated that she wouldn’t leave without an answer.

And she deserved to know the reasons for his refusal.

She deserved to know that it was not because she was undesirable that he would not marry her, but because of his failings.

Jude took a deep breath. “Just over a year ago, the clan was attacked at night. Raiders, I dinnae ken from where. I never saw any clan colors or crests. We fought them— I fought them, but I failed. They kidnapped my sister, and my maither died of grief and shock at the loss. I was left with naught but empty rooms, grief, and the scar on my knee, where one of the attackers slashed me nearly to the bone and crippled me.”

“And yer sister…”

“We never found her. For all I ken, she’s dead and buried in an unmarked grave, or driftin’ in the sea, or ashes on the wind. She’s one of the many lasses who were kidnapped that night.”

Jude swallowed past the lump in his throat and the tightness in his gut.

“I cannae fail anyone the way I failed Kendra and my maither. I willnae. That’s why… that’s why I cannae marry ye.”

Valerie’s eyes were oddly blank, her tone measured and almost cold, and her expression far too composed when she spoke, “Then, in three days—five at most—I will…”

“Ye dinnae have to. I will write to Laird MacKane. If he enters into an alliance with me, then Laird MacOlley cannae threaten his clan, and ye’ll be safe to refuse his demands.”

Valerie shook her head. “Clan MacKane might be safe, but Brigid and their daughter? Conall himself? His braither Oliver, his wife, and their son? Nathan would kill one or all of them with sneak attacks, knives in the dark, poison in their food—whatever way he could to see them dead or suffering the loss of their loved ones. He’d do it without hesitation, for sheer spite, just to leave the daggers of their deaths in my heart. ”

From what he knew of Nathan Cullen, she was right.

Jude stepped closer. “Then say the word, and I’ll kill him first.”

Valerie stared at him. “And why would ye do that?”

Jude frowned, confused by her flat tone and the shadows darkening her expressive green eyes. “To protect ye. To help ye, of course. I cannae marry ye, but that doesnae mean I cannae take care of ye.”

He had hoped to see warmth in her eyes, perhaps a look of relief, or a smile of gratitude. He had not been prepared for her lips to curl into a bitter smile, before a laugh as sharp and cold as a knife in winter spilled from her lips.

He willnae marry me because he cannae protect me, or himself, if aught goes awry, and yet with his next breath he offers to kill a man in my defense, as if I were some damsel in distress?

Valerie hadn’t intended to laugh at him, but the sound spilled out of her, driven by bitter frustration so sharp that it was as if she’d swallowed willowbark and nettles without steeping them in tea to milden the taste.

He doesnae understand me at all, for all he acts as if he cares for me.

And even with all his words, he still cares for me less than he cares for protecting himself against his own fears—fears he cannae even see are foolish and contradictory to the words he speaks at other times, or even his actions.

“I’m serious, Valerie. Tell me to help ye, to defend ye, and I will…”

“Ye will do what, Laird MacFinn?” She saw when the formality of her words hit their mark. “Offer more words, or promises and compromises that ye cannae be sure ye can even keep, or dinnae intend to?”

His expression darkened. “I never said I wouldnae keep my word…”

“But ye offered to help perpetuate the falsehood of our betrothal—a betrothal ye dinnae intend to accept—by writing to my kin. It is close enough to the same thing. And even if it werenae, it doesnae bother me. I need nothing of the sort from ye.”

He stepped forward, his eyebrows knitting together in frustration. “I’m tryin’ to help ye…”

Valerie tossed her mussed hair over her shoulder and straightened her back, tilting her chin up to look him right in the eye.

“I need nay such help, Laird MacFinn. Ye forget, I was raised by Magnus Blackwood, and he didnae leave any of his daughters defenseless. Least of all me, who sailed the seas and bartered with the savages alongside him until he perished.”

“I…”

“I traveled with pirates for seasons—I can fight and bargain and see to my safety. I dinnae need ye to be lookin’ after me like some damsel in need of rescue.

I came here for a brief respite from my future, nae looking for a savior or some sort of hero.

Nae even a husband, be it a real or false one. ”

With that, she pushed past Jude and out the door, her heart pounding and throat aching, unshed tears pricking her eyes.

I willnae let him see me cry. I willnae—I will never—let him ken that, for a short time, I even dared to be foolish enough to hope there might be a future for me here. I willnae.

I will finish my work. And then… I shall deal with Laird MacOlley myself, however that may transpire. I dinnae need the help of anyone, especially nae a man, and certainly nae one who is so afraid of admitting his feelings even to himself.

Valerie knew she was being harsh, perhaps even unfair. Even so, she could not bring herself to take it back, not even in the privacy of her mind. Not when she thought of everything else that was between her and Jude.

He gave her pleasure such as she had never known, claimed her as his for the duration of her stay in his castle, and yet it did not escape her notice that he had not ‘claimed’ her, and had avoided making love to her fully.

She had no doubt it was some form of honorable behavior for him, not to sully her status as a maiden, since she had told him that she was one. But to her, it felt like yet another form of rejection.

The door to the gallery where she had been doing most of her work appeared, and she darted through it.

She slammed it shut, then threw the bolt, locking it from the inside for good measure, in case Jude had tried to follow her.

Only when it was tightly latched did she walk to the hearth and sink into a chair, tears swimming in her eyes.

A part of her hoped she would hear Jude outside, demanding entry or trying to talk to her. The silence that followed her—and the proof that he hadn’t—stung, and despite her best efforts, tears slid down her cheeks.

Before Jude, her only concern regarding any man’s desire for her had been escaping it as gracefully and as quickly as possible. The irony of her situation—that she desired a man who was determined to refuse her—was not lost on her, but it hurt like a knife to the heart.

I still have my work as a seamstress—I’ll nae be leavin’ for another four days at least. I can find solace in that.

Valerie took a deep breath and wiped her eyes. She could do nothing to change Jude’s mind if he had already chosen this course of action, but she could finish her work, and do it well. She would use the time to come to terms with her feelings for Jude.

If all she could do was end her reprieve gracefully and with honor, then that was what she would do, no matter how much it made her heart ache.