She understood the dark shadows of vengeance that drove him but naively thought that love would be enough. That she would be enough.
Dear God, how could she have been so wrong?
“I never said I would marry you, Jo. I never made you any promises.”
He seemed to be reading her mind, something that had been commonplace between them. Until now she’d always seen it as evidence of their closeness—a fallacy that seemed laughable now.
She looked up at him, chest burning, feeling her hopes and dreams char to ash. “You’re right. You didn’t make me any promises. I assumed that you honored me enough not to take that which was meant for a husband.”
His face flushed with anger—and, she knew him well enough to detect, a tinge of shame. “I honored you enough to count you a woman who knew her own mind and was capable of making her own decisions. I did not take anything that was not freely given, nor was I made aware that there were conditions.”
His words stung like a cold slap across her face.
Seeing her reaction, he swore under his breath. The harsh lines of his face softened. “I’m sorry, Jo. I will accept the blame for my part, but I will not be cast in the role of wicked seducer or evil deflowerer of virgins. I did not act alone. You wanted what happened as much as I did.”
As much as she wanted to curse him and blame him, he was right: It was just as much her fault as it was his. She was not a girl fresh from a nunnery; she knew what was happening, and what it meant. She’d been just as carried away as he had. In fact, as she recalled now to her shame, she’d begged him to take her innocence—pleaded with him when he’d hesitated.
But it didn’t solve the problem or lessen the crushing blow of disappointment. Right or wrong, James had let her down.
And it wasn’t just her who would pay the price for her foolishness. Oh God, the baby. The baby, who only minutes before had seemed like a blessing, now felt like a curse.
What was she going to do?
A bird whistled in the distance. At least she thought it was a bird until his ears pricked in that direction.
“I have to go,” he said. “They’re looking for me.” He looked torn, clearly not wanting to leave her like this. He reached for her.
This time she didn’t shirk away, but neither did she let him comfort her. She felt strangely numb—strangely hollow.
“I don’t want to fight with you, Jo. We’ll figure something out.”
Maybe he didn’t know her at all. “There is nothing to figure out. You do not intend to marry me, and I do not intend to be your leman.”
He frowned. “What are you saying?”
She straightened her spine, looking him right in the eye. “That you have to choose. In this there is no in between. Nor will you convince me otherwise. My whole life I have given you everything, but I will not give you this. I will never be your whore. It is me or your ambition.”
His mouth thinned, his face darkening with anger. “That sounds like an ultimatum.”
James didn’t like being put in a corner—he never had. But she didn’t care. “It is,” she said stonily. “How much are you willing to sacrifice, James?”
“Jo—” The sound of another whistle cut him off. “Damn. I have to go. But this conversation isn’t over. I will find you tomorrow.”
She turned away, not wanting him to see her tears. What choice did she have?
“Jo, please.” He took her chin and turned her face toward his. “We will figure this out. Trust me.”
But that had been her mistake. She looked into the handsome face of the man she’d thought she would love forever and almost hated him. Her chest burned. It hurt just to look at him. The strong nose, the hard jaw, the piercing eyes. Features she knew as well as her own. Yet it turned out she’d known so little.
“If you mean figure it out by convincing me, you are wrong. I meant what I said, James. I will never be your whore.”
She spoke softly but resolutely so he could hear she meant every word.
His jaw hardened. It was clear he wanted to argue with her, but when the next whistle came he gave her a hard look. “Tomorrow,” he promised, before disappearing into the trees.
James caught up with the two men looking for him halfway down the hill.
Robbie “Raider” Boyd, the strongest man in the Highlands and de facto enforcer of the Highland Guard, stood before him, effectively blocking his path. “Where the hell have you been?”
“I told you I had something to do,” James snapped back. Few men had the courage to do that. Boyd might be more rock than flesh, and more steel than sinew, but if he wanted a damned fight, James was in the perfect mood to give him one. The conversation with Jo had killed the bliss of their lovemaking, leaving him angry and on edge. He couldn’t believe the sweet, kindhearted, always-agreeable lass he’d known for as long as he could remember had issued him an ultimatum.