Thoughts of how her lush bottom had felt pressed against his hard groin would do to keep him warm, but he’d dare not say that. “I dunnae get cold easily. Take the plaid.”
“Ye’ll stay well away?”
“Aye,” he said with a sigh. “Believe it or nae, I am able to control myself.” Or at least he sincerelyhopedhe was when it came to her.
She finally took the plaid and wrapped it around her shoulders. Seeing her bundled in it put knots in his throat and his gut. He was fairly certain he’d had a dream where she had worn nothing but his plaid.
They stood face-to-face, unspeaking for a long moment. Marsaili suddenly cleared her throat. “Not that I believe ye, but if ye did tell Edina that ye did nae wish to marry her, what compelled ye to break yer promise? I ken it could nae have been me, as we had nae even met yet.”
Callum stilled. He had never spoken to anyone of what had gone through his head that day. His parents had not wanted to know. All they had wanted to hear was that he would change his mind and do as they bid. “I saw her with another man in the most intimate way, but I kinnae lie, I was grateful to have a reason nae to wed her.”
“Ye were?”
“Aye. I kenned that she was greedy and nae particularly nice, but my clan needed the alliance.” Speaking of it out loud brought all the guilt he had been living with to the surface. “She still wanted the alliance. She was carrying another man’s child and told her father it was mine, that I had joined with her.”
She frowned. “But ye had nae.”
He shook his head. “Nay, but it did nae matter. My parents demanded I keep the alliance. The Gordon even threatened war because he said I had ruined Edina and shamed her with my lies. When my parents realized I would nae heed their demands, they pleaded, but I still refused.” The guilt swallowed him now. “I chose ye,” he said, knowing with a pulse-pounding certainty that he wanted her to understand he had loved her. If he could not have her now, if he could not tell her of his heart in this moment, he would tell her what had been in it. “I chose ye over my clan. I loved ye, and for my choices, for my greed, I plunged my clan into a war that cost my father his life and has weakened my clan greatly.”
Tears streamed down her face. “Ye loved me.”
It was a statement. She knew. She understood.
“Aye,” he answered. “With all my heart.”
“And what of now?” she asked, her voice a broken whisper.
“I am laird, and I must make choices for the good of my clan.”
“Ye will place what is good for yer clan above all…as I thought.” She nodded. “We should rest.”
Marsaili turned her back to him and walked a few feet away. He watched her settle on the grass, shaking his plaid over herself. He found a spot against a boulder. The ground was hard, but it made no difference. He suspected sleep would be a long time coming.
She shifted around restlessly, muttering to herself, which he found endearing. A few times, she leaned up on an elbow to push at his plaid. He had the overwhelming urge to go to her, pull her into his arms, and let her rest her head on his chest, but with each breath he took, he fought it. By the time, sleep finally claimed her, he let out a ragged exhalation, weary from the battle with himself. Just as Callum started to drift to sleep, Marsaili cried out, and his eyes flew open as he scrambled to her.
“The bairn! The bairn,” she whimpered repeatedly.
He shook her to wake her, but she batted at him. “Marsaili,” he tried, then tentatively reached toward her and brushed his hand across her forehead. She settled instantly and turned her cheek into this palm. Her need hurtled him beyond the point of return. With his heart beating hard, he lay beside her, offering her his warmth and his presence while she slept. But lying beside her put him at ease, too, and almost immediately, sleep claimed him.
