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The Highlander's Bride(11)

By:Donna Fletcher


His jaw muscles flinched and hardened and his dark eyes smoldered with anger. “No one helped her. Why didn’t they help her?”

“You can’t blame others,” Sara said defensively. “The nuns have no free will. They follow whatever orders are given them without question.”

“You didn’t.”

“I’m not part of the abbey and I have a mind of my own. I think and speak my own opinion. When I heard the whispers about the babe’s possible demise, I knew I’d have to investigate further.”

“Why didn’t you try and help Alaina?”

She had been expecting the accusing question. If she could help his son, why hadn’t she been able to help the mother?

She brushed the crumbs off her hands and glared at him. “Don’t blame me for something that you blame yourself for.”

He looked ready to spring to his feet, but instead grew rigid where he sat. “I wasn’t there, you were.”

“I did what I could,” Sara said caustically, while regret tore at her heart. She had tried so hard to find a way to help Alaina, but the earl had placed guards outside her quarters and throughout the abbey. Cullen would never truly know just how dangerous it had been for her to protect his son. However, she would never have been able to allow any harm to come to the babe. He was an innocent, and his escape was the best way for her to help Alaina. Perhaps one day, she had thought, the mother would come and reclaim her son. It was the only way possible for her to help the pleading Alaina.

But she didn’t feel compelled to share any of this with Cullen. She’d done what she thought was right. It was her way, and she didn’t need approval from anyone for her choices.

“And now you use this generous act of yours to claim your freedom,” he said. “Did you actually save my son’s life in hopes of saving your own?”

He released his venomous accusation like an arrow aimed at her heart, but she didn’t flinch. She let the blow bounce off her tough facade.

“You’ll think what you want no matter what I say. It saves you from your own guilt.”

He fisted his hands. “I loved Alaina and would have done anything for her.”

“You didn’t love her enough.”

“How dare you say that? You know nothing about Alaina and me. You don’t even know a thing about love. No man wants you. You had to force me to wed you.”

That blow she felt, though she didn’t react. Besides, it was true, so how did you argue against the truth?

“Our marriage arrangement is a fair one,” she said, “and not different from many arranged marriages today.”

“Our bargain is nothing like an arranged marriage,” he spat out. “I do what I must to get my son, nothing more.”

Sara quickly defended herself. “I don’t recall asking you to care about me, to protect me, to love me.”

“I love only one woman and will always love only one woman.”

Part of her ached to feel a mere pinch of a love so strong that it transcended death. It was a foolish ache, and an ache she knew she would probably carry to her grave.

His chin went up. “While you’re my wife I will protect you—it’s my duty. I will see you’re kept safe.”

That rattled her dander, and she let him have it. “Don’t bother. It’s not part of our bargain, and besides, I don’t need you to look after me. I can take care of myself.”

“Not too good, since you wound up at the abbey against your wishes,” he reminded her with a smug grin.

She retaliated swiftly with her own grin. “I’m not at the abbey anymore.”

“It took you long enough.”

“Patience pays off. I got a man that doesn’t smell.”

Cullen abruptly laughed, which broke the contentious mood, then shook his head. “You’re a marksman with your tongue.”

“I’m the same with a bow and arrow.”

“What aren’t you skillful at?”

“Mating.”

“Do you wish to be skillful at it?”

His candid question stunned her, though it didn’t stun her silent. “Are you offering to teach me?”

“Not part of the bargain,” he said, and stretched out on the blanket, his head cushioned on his folded arms. “We’ll have at it and be done with it.”

“That’s fine with me, but not tonight. I’ll let you know when,” she said, and stretched out on her own blanket, wrapping her cloak tightly around her.

“Fine by me. I’m too tired tonight anyway,” he said on a yawn.

Sara’s temper bubbled like a pot left over the flames too long. Maybe it was only part of their bargain, but he didn’t have to treat it so flippantly, as if it was unimportant, meaningless.