Page 85 of Taming the Eagle
Years had passed since she’d seen her former lover, yet he hadn’t changed. The warrior still walked with long-limbed grace. His sleeveless vest showed off finely muscled arms and tribal markings. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been angry, for she’d just struck him across the face. However, this morning his handsome face was creased into a wide smile.
“I heard you’d escaped.” He opened his arms as if to embrace her.
Fenella took a rapid step back, the milk sloshing in the pail. “Aye,” she replied stiffly, not returning his smile. “Good morning, Lorcan.”
Lorcan halted, his expression sobering. “I’m relieved you managed it, for you must have suffered much, Fen,” he murmured. “I still can’t believe Toutorix handed you over to the enemy.”
“Well, he did.”
Lorcan’s gaze roamed her face, his green eyes shadowing. “I’m so sorry.”
“What about exactly?” she asked coolly.
Even after Lorcan had hurt her, there had been a part of her that had hoped to see him again. Her skin crawled whenever Toutorix touched her, but she’d desired Lorcan. But that want had died within her years ago. And now, despite that he was as handsome as ever, she felt nothing as she looked upon him.
Her former lover stepped closer, his voice lowering when he replied, “All of it, Fen. I should have run away with you, as you wanted. I could have spared you Toutorix … and what came afterward. The man stripped you of all honor.”
Fenella scowled. “You’d have abandoned your wife?”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “She died … giving birth to our second child.” He paused there, his gaze dropping to the ground between them. “I’m now raising our son on my own.”
“So, you’d have abandoned a woman who would shortly perish in childbirth?” Fenella asked, incredulous.
“She was going to die anyway,” Lorcan replied softly, raising his gaze to hers once more. His moss-green eyes were pain-filled. “I made a mistake in not being honest with you from the beginning. I loved you, Fen. I love you still.”
Fenella stared back at him. Had she heard right? Had he just told her that if he’d realized his wife—a woman he was supposed to care for—was going to die, he’d have left her?
Surely, even he couldn’t be so callous?
If she cared for him, she’d have been aghast. But now she merely looked at him with gathering pity. The man was an opportunist, always looking out for himself. Someone this selfish would never find happiness.
“You didn’t love me, Lorcan,” she said after a pause. “And I didn’t love you either. I thought I did at the time … but I never looked beneath the surface, never knew you properly.”
“You don’t mean that.” He stepped closer still, reaching for her. “You’re just bitter things went awry.”
Fenella shifted back, avoiding his touch. “Iwasbitter,” she admitted, her mouth lifting at the edges. “But no longer.”
“We can start again.” His expression was desperate now.
Gods, this man didn’t know when to stop talking. “No, we can’t.”
“Aye, you’re alone now … and ruined. You need a husband, and I need a wife.”
Ruined. Fenella’s belly twisted, a red tide sweeping over her. She’d had enough of being insulted.
However, Lorcan wasn’t finished. “I don’t care that the Roman whoreson humped you.” His expression softened then, his green eyes changing from imploring to sultry. “You know how good it was between us … it will be like that again. I promise.”
“Lorcan.” Fenella did step forward then, raising her chin to ensure she held his gaze. “I’m going to say this only once, so listen well. I will not become your wife … not in this lifetime or any other … and if you come near me ever again, I shall geld you.” She paused, watching as shock rippled across his handsome face.
Finally, he understood.
And then, without awaiting his response, Fenella turned and walked back to her father’s roundhouse.
XXXI. AN INTRICATE WEB
Vindolanda fort, the Wall,
The Caledonia-Britannia border