Beyond the Highland Mist
Page 78

“King James used only that name?” she asked swiftly.
Another sigh. “Yes.”
“Why?”
She could feel his body tense behind her. “Because he said I was his own captive hawk, and it was true. He controlled me for fifteen years as surely as a falconer controls his bird.”
“My God, what did he do to you?” she whispered, horrified at the icy depths in his voice when he spoke of his service. The Hawk controlled by another? Incomprehensible. But if the threat of destruction of Dalkeith, his mother, and his siblings had been held over his head? The threat of killing the hundreds of his clanspeople? What would the noble Hawk have done to prevent that?
The answer came easily. Her strong, wise, ethical husband would have done whatever he had to do. Any other man the Hawk would have simply killed. But one couldn’t kill the King of Scotland. Not without having his clan’s existence completely eradicated by the king’s army. Same result, no choice. A sentence of fifteen years, all because of a scorned and spoiled king.
“Can’t you just accept me as I am now, lass? It’s over. I’m free.” His voice was so low and resonant with anguish that she froze. His words threw her off balance; it was something she might have said herself if confronted with her past by someone she cared for. Her husband understood pain, and perhaps shame and, oh so surely, regret. What right had she to judge and condemn a person for a dark past? If she were honest with herself, she would even point out that her past had been the result of her own naive mistakes, where his painful ordeal had been one he’d been forced to endure to keep safe his clan and his family.
She wanted to touch and heal the man who sat so stiffly away from her now, yet she was not quite sure how to begin. This much was clear—he hadn’t been the king’s whore, whatever that was, because he’d wanted to; that fact went a long way toward easing her mind. More than anything, she wanted to understand this fierce, proud man. To brush away the shadows in his beautiful dark eyes. She jerked swiftly when she felt silk graze her jaw.
“No! Don’t put the hood back on me. Please.”
Hawk ignored her protests, and she sighed as he retied the cords.
“Will you just tell me why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you ‘seeling’ me now?” What had she done to provoke his anger?
“I stepped back, lass. I gave you what no other man would have given you. I allowed you the time to choose me of your own will. But it seems your will is wildly foolish and needs persuading. Choose me, you will. And when you do, there will be no other man’s name on your lips, no other man’s shaft between your thighs, no other man’s face in your mind’s eye.”
“But—” She wanted to know why her time had so suddenly run out. What had made him snap?
“No buts. No more words, lass, unless you would have me bind your mouth as well. From this time forward you see without the benefit of those beautiful, lying eyes. Perhaps I’m not a complete fool. Perhaps you might see true with your inner vision. Then again, perhaps not. But your first lesson is that what I look like has nothing to do with who I am. Who I might have had to be in the past has nothing to do with who I am. When you finally see me clearly, then and only then will you see with your eyes again.”
They arrived in Uster shortly after dawn. Pushing his horse hard through the night, Hawk turned a two-day journey into less than one.
He guided her into the laird’s residence, past the gawking staff, up the stairs and to the bedroom. Without a word, he cut the bonds on her wrists with a dagger, pushed her to the bed, locking the door behind him as he left.
The instant Adrienne’s hands were free she ripped off the silken hood. She’d been prepared to shred it into tiny silken tatters but realized he’d probably just use something else if she destroyed it. Besides, she mused, she had no intention of fighting him. She had enough of a battle on her hands trying to face her own emotions; let him do what he felt he needed to do. It granted her more time to grow familiar with the new feelings inside her. Dear heaven, but he was angry with her. Just what he was angry about she wasn’t certain, but her resolve was still true. In the face of his fury, her soldiers had not changed their minds. They all stood proudly on the Hawk’s side, and she was with them to a man.
He planned to seduce her callously? To open her inner vision to him?
He didn’t need to know that it had already been opened, and that she shamelessly anticipated every moment of the seducing.
The Hawk walked slowly through the streets of Uster. It was nearly deserted at this late hour, only those of courage, abject stupidity, or evil intent walked the streets late at night when a heavy fog was roiling in. He wondered into which category he fell.