She stopped a few feet from her cottage and swung around.
Ronan took a step back and held up his hands. “You could kill me with that look.”
“Don’t tempt me. How could—”
“I’m sorry,” he said before she could finish.
She stared at him befuddled.
He approached her cautiously, though confused that she should appear so surprised by his apology. “I was wrong.”
She took a step away from him and shook her head.
He had to smile at her bewilderment. “Hasn’t anyone ever apologized to you?”
“No.”
She said it with such blunt honesty that it startled him. “Never?”
“Never,” she repeated.
He reached out and took hold of her hand to draw her near. “Then hear me well, for though this may be the first, I am certain it will not be the last time I apologize to you. I am sorry for not defending you against my brother, and I am sorry I did not greet you immediately when you entered the hall.”
She drifted into his arms. “Why didn’t you?”
“You looked at me so strangely, as if you didn’t know me, and for a moment I thought perhaps—”
“That I was what your brother claimed…a barbarian who cannot be trusted?”
He shook his head. “No, that you changed your mind and didn’t love me.”
She sighed and rested her head to his chest. Looking up at him, she said, “When I saw you dressed in your plaid, I realized that you were a Highlander, and I was…”
He lowered his lips to hers, and before he kissed her, he whispered, “The woman I love.”
The kiss left her head spinning, and she had to shake it to clear it. “You love Hope.”
“You are Hope.”
She shook her head again. “I am Carissa, daughter of Mordrac the Barbarian and your enemy.”
He slipped his hand inside her cloak, then beneath her blouse, until it rested over her heart. “Your heart is too kind to be a barbarian or my enemy.”
“I want to trust you, believe you, but—”
He smiled. “My brother feels the same about you and warns me that you only pretended to be Hope for your own selfish purposes. He forbids me from sleeping with you until we see if you are with child, and if not, you can then be judged.”
“Your brother truly hates me.”
He heard the regret in her voice. “He only knows Carissa.”
She pulled away from him. “I am Carissa.”
“No, you are Hope,” he insisted, and reached out to take hold of her. But she moved away.
“Look at me, Ronan. I am Carissa, daughter to Mordrac your enemy, leader of the mercenaries, hated by most,” she said, and took a fortifying breath before continuing. “That is what people see when they look at me, as much as I want it not to be that way, it is. It will never change. They have nothing but contempt for me.”
He could see how the weight of her words hung heavy on her shoulders, and he wanted to comfort her, but he knew she needed much more than comfort. She needed him to accept her as Carissa and for a brief moment…
She smiled, though sadness filled her eyes, and she shook her head. “I can see it in your eyes. You can easily love Hope, but you don’t know if you can easily love Carissa.”
He stepped forward.
“No,” she said firmly. “Your brother is right. It is best we keep our distance, and if I am not with child then…”
“I’m not going to lose you,” he said adamantly.
“You never had me,” she said, pounding her chest. “I am Carissa, not Hope. Carissa, do you hear? Carissa.”
He reached out, but she turned away and hurried inside the cottage, slamming the door behind her. He stood staring at the door. How was he going to make this right for them both? How was he going to reconcile Carissa and Hope? That he loved this woman was not the question. It was defining the woman that was the problem.
He was about to turn and walk away when the door creaked opened.
“My clothes?” she asked, peering out. “You never brought them with you?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t,” he said, glad he had forewarned her that his first apology certainly wouldn’t be his last.
Before she closed the door, he said, “I’ll see about getting you fresh garments.”
“I would appreciate it.”
“Would you like a bath?” he asked. “I had one this morning.”
She smiled. “I would love one.”
“I’ll arrange that too.”
“Thank you,” she said, and closed the door.
He went to see to both, then suddenly stopped, a thought hitting him. If she had left her clothes behind, then that meant she had planned on returning. He smiled broadly and rubbed his hands together, finally realizing that he had never grabbed his cloak and was cold. With a hasty step, he hurried to the keep.