Page 30

CHAPTER 30

For the next few days, Anna made a point of avoiding Gordon. She didn’t dine in the Sea Hall, she didn’t wander where she thought he might be, preferring to withdraw to her chambers and Jane’s company.

Whether or not Gordon had sent word to her family to let them know that a wedding wasn’t yet confirmed, she didn’t know, but figured she could contend with that problem if it arose.

That’ll teach ye, she mused as she explored the upper floors of the castle, far from where Gordon ever went. If I must tell me family they’re mistaken in yer presence, that’ll be punishment enough.

She imagined her father’s fury, her mother’s dismay, Ewan’s protest, and Jackson’s laughter at the scene. Yet, the trouble was, she wasn’t sure how she would feel, making such a statement. Half of her wanted that marriage, whether it came sooner or later, and half of her wanted to make a point while she still could—that no one decided her life but her.

Is that nae what ye promised, Gordon? Her heart sank, praying it hadn’t been an elaborate ruse all along, with him merely saying what he thought she wanted to hear. That would make him little better than Laird Glendenning and send her doubts spiraling.

Finding a short staircase that led up to a weathered door, curiosity shelved her worries for a moment. Glancing back to make sure no one was watching, she took hold of the iron ring that served as a handle and opened it.

A gust of cold wind smacked her in the face, filling her lungs with fresh air after days of the stagnant air in her bedchamber. She gulped it down, shocked and delighted by the temperature, and promptly headed out to see what lay beyond.

“Goodness…” she gasped, finding herself on what felt like the top of the world.

Considering that the castle was built into the cliff and the rocks, it was sometimes difficult to make out where the building ended and nature began. Both seamlessly blended together.

But it appeared that she had found some sort of tower or turret that offered an expansive view across sea and land: a secret lookout, unmanned, to watch for encroaching enemies. And, judging by the tufts of hardy grass and patches of yellowed lichen that were growing across the space, no one had been up there for a while.

Fighting against the blustery wind, Anna approached what amounted to a wall—a waist-high barrier of vaguely carved rock, hollowed out from the cliff, rather than a manmade thing of masonry and bricks.

She gripped the edge and peered over, her eyes widening at the sight below: the training ground, where soldiers sparred and honed their bodies and their skills.

Despite being so high up, one particular body caught her eye: someone she would have known immediately, even if she were twice as high and had nothing but moonlight to see by.

We wouldnae have to be so far apart if ye hadnae made me doubt ye…

Gordon appeared to be training some younger soldiers, letting them come at him with practice swords, moving as gracefully as a dancer to block and parry their attacks. He had shed his shirt, the majesty of his body on full display with every smooth movement, every whirl, every thrust and arc of his sword, like an extension of himself.

“I wish I could draw ye like this,” she murmured, grateful for the wind that cooled her suddenly flushed face.

He really was majestic. A king among men. And he was hers, if she but said the word, agreeing to the wedding he’d arranged without telling her.

“Lady Anna?” A startled voice turned her around sharply, her heart leaping in surprise.

Seeing who stood there, she released a breath of relief. “Goodness, M’Laird, ye scared me.”

“As ye scared me, M’Lady,” Beathan replied, furrowing his brow. “Forgive me, but I saw ye come through this door and… I feared the worst.”

“The worst?” Anna raised an eyebrow, uncertain of his meaning.

Beathan approached, coming to stand at her side in front of the hewn wall. “I thought, perhaps, that… ye were nae feelin’ quite so happy with yer situation.” He peered over the edge, his expression. “But I see that I was mistaken.”

At once, Anna understood, a shocked gasp leaving her lips. “Heavens, nay! In truth, I dinnae even ken what was out here until I came through the door. I wouldnae dream of doin’ somethin’ like that, regardless of how unhappy I might be.” She shuddered at the thought of that long, fatal drop. “I thank ye for comin’ to be sure, but… aye, there’s nay cause for concern here.”

“Apologies, M’Lady.” The older man cleared his throat. “It’s just that there’s been so much tragedy in this castle already. I suppose it makes a person leap to the worst conclusion, instead of the simplest. And considerin’ ye havenae shown yerself for several days, and there’s been talk of a rift between ye and me nephew, I’m afraid I did jump to that worst conclusion.”

“A rift?” Anna frowned. “Nay, I wouldnae call it that. More of a… disagreement.”

Beathan mustered a sad little laugh. “Honestly, I’m surprised it took him this long to find the means to push ye away. I thought, maybe, he’d overcome the past at last, but… I suppose nae.” He shook his head. “In truth, I was curious why a lass like ye would settle for such a life as the one he’s offerin’, when I ken ye had most of the Highlands to choose from. I’m still nae sure.”

Why would he want to push me away?

Anna’s gaze flitted from Gordon’s muscular, powerful body to Beathan, who stood hunched against the wind, but a different question sprang to her lips first. “Settle? What do ye mean by that?”

“Well… I’m certain there were many Lairds at the auction who offered things ye might like, love being one of them.” Beathan hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure whether he should continue. “I’m also certain that me nephew has informed ye that love isnae somethin’ he can offer.

“He’s honest. Bluntly so, at times. That’s what I cannae understand, why a bonny lass like ye would accept a loveless marriage. Of course, it’s nae me place or me business, but… me curiosity remains.”

A strange pinch of hurt caught Anna between the ribs, stealing her breath for a moment. Gordon hadn’t said that he couldn’t love her. She hadn’t considered this at first, as she hadn’t gotten to know him yet, but to imagine a loveless union now seemed a terrible thing. Indeed, it was something she should have been thinking about, yet it hadn’t cropped up.

I suppose I expected that there would be love, eventually, with the way things were going. Her cheeks burned at her naivety, her mouth unable to admit the words.

“I’ve upset ye,” Beathan said, grimacing. “I’m sorry, M’Lady. It wasnae me intention. As I said, it’s none of me business. Ye must have yer reasons, and it’s nae me place to ken them. Please, forgive me. I’ll leave ye be.”

He turned to depart but Anna lunged for him, grabbing him by the sleeve of his shirt, pulling him back in desperation. She had questions, he had answers; she wouldn’t let him leave until she was satisfied.

“Why would love nae be somethin’ he could offer?” she blurted out, swallowing down the feeling of foolishness that rose up her throat.

Beathan came back to the wall, taking hold of both Anna’s hands, keeping them warm with his own. “Me nephew has suffered a great deal in his life, M’Lady,” he began haltingly. “For twenty years, he’s built a… shell around himself, around his heart. He doesnae want love of any kind to breach that armor, nor does he ever want to be dependent on anyone but himself.”

“But… why?” Anna rasped, her own heart aching.

Beathan smiled sadly. “Because his maither died in his arms, from a broken heart. The shock of seein’ her husband dead just… made her heart stop. Ever since, he has never wanted a love like that, or for anyone to love him like that. Nay connection of any sort.”

His maither died in his arms…

A lump formed in Anna’s throat, her eyes pricking with tears for a boy she had never known, who had become the man down there in the training ground. A man who carried such terrible pain on his broad shoulders and bore it as if it weighed nothing… or pretended to.

I daenae ken him at all.

It was a shocking realization, how little she had actually learned about Gordon. It was even more shocking to realize how deliberate that was, on his part—he had been so vague with her, and she hadn’t pressed him, content to be distracted by other things instead of digging to the marrow of who he was.

“If that’s true,” she replied, her head swimming with confusion, “then why does he want bairns? Is that nae a connection? Is that nae a means of bringin’ love into yer life? How could ye have bairns and nae love them?”

Beathan shrugged. “I can only speak of me own bastards, but I keep me distance. I havenae met most of them. I suppose he thinks it’ll be similar—that he can secure the clan’s legacy and keep his distance, leavin’ the rearin’ to ye.” He hesitated, the wind whipping his hair around his face. “But this cannae be news to ye, M’Lady. Ye’ll have discussed this before ye came here, nay?”

That foolish feeling began to rise through Anna’s chest again, forcing her to turn her gaze away from the older man. And though that embarrassment simmered to a feverish heat that swept through her, she felt the sudden need to defend herself, and to defend Gordon, if only to save face.

“M’Laird, nay one at the auction offered me love anyway,” she insisted, her throat tight. “Even if they had offered it, it’s nae somethin’ that can be promised—nae really. Ye cannae swear love from the start; that’s pure foolishness to vow and, worse, to believe.”

She had no doubt that some of the Lairds she never ended up meeting would have made grand promises and gestures to her, and she’d have been just as na?ve as to take them at their word.

What she had just said was true, whether she liked it or not: love couldn’t be promised between people who didn’t know each other. Love grew from a seed of connection; it wasn’t planted fully formed.

“Aye, what Gordon offered was far more temptin’ to a lass like me,” Anna added with a decisive nod. “ That is why I came, and why I’m still here. That is why I ‘settled’ for his offer.”

“And what was it that he offered?” Beathan asked.

Anna cleared her dry throat and tilted her chin up. “Freedom to be meself.”

“I see.” Beathan nodded, as though his curiosity had finally been satisfied. “Then that’s good for ye, lass. Aye, that’s as fine a reason as any to settle. Just… be careful, M’Lady.”

“Of what?”

He let go of her hands, bowing his head. “Of yer expectations.” He began to move toward the door. “Dinnae expect what he cannae give. Dinnae expect that ye can change him, because this is who he is—it is who he has been for two decades. And as ye have freedom to be yerself, so does he.”

“I ken that,” she replied stubbornly.

“I pray that ye do.” He expelled a weary sigh, glancing back at her with sad eyes. “Indeed, I’d hate for ye to end up brokenhearted after it’s too late to alter yer circumstances, because ye wed him in the hope that love would grow where it never will.”

Offering a sympathetic smile, Beathan departed, leaving Anna alone at the top of the tower, wondering if the vast distance between her and Gordon wasn’t merely physical, after all.