And with her, I thought, went my hopes of any imminent escape and return to my own place. Oh, Frank. I closed my eyes, letting a tear slide down the side of my nose. I opened my eyes wide on the courtyard then, blinked and shut them tight, trying frantically to recall Frank's features. Just for a moment, when I closed my eyes, I had seen not my beloved husband, but his ancestor, Jack Randall, full lips curved in a mocking smile. And shying mentally from that image, my mind had summoned at once a picture of Jamie, face set in fear and anger, as I had seen him in the window of Randall's private office. Try as I might, I could not bring back Frank's remembered image with any certainty.
I felt suddenly quite cold with panic, and clasped my hands about my elbows. And what if I had succeeded in escaping and finding my way back to the circle of stone? I thought. What then? Jamie would, I hoped, soon find solace—with Laoghaire, perhaps. I had worried before about his reaction to finding me gone. But aside from that hasty moment of regret on the edge of the burn, it had not before occurred to me to wonder how I would feel to part with him.
I fiddled idly with the ribbon drawstring that gathered the neck of my shift, tying and untying it. If I meant to leave, as I did, I was doing neither of us a favor by allowing the bond between us to strengthen any further. I should not allow him to fall in love with me.
If he meant to do any such thing, I thought, remembering once more Laoghaire and the conversation with Colum. If he had married me so cold-bloodedly as it seemed, perhaps his emotions were safer than mine.
Between fatigue, hunger, disappointment, and uncertainty, I had by this time succeeded in reducing myself to such a state of confused misery that I could neither sleep or sit still. Instead, I roamed unhappily about the room, picking up objects and putting them down at random.
The draft from the opening door upset the delicate equilibrium of the comb I had been balancing on its end, heralding Jamie's return. He looked faintly flushed and oddly excited.
"Oh, you're awake," he said, obviously surprised and disconcerted to find me so.
"Yes," I said unkindly, "were you hoping I'd be asleep so you could go back to her?"
His brows drew together for a moment, then raised in inquiry. "Her? To Laoghaire, ye mean?"
Hearing her name spoken in that casual Highland lilt —"L'heer"—suddenly made me irrationally angry.
"Oh, so you have been with her!" I snapped.
Jamie looked puzzled and wary, and slightly annoyed. "Aye," he said. "I met her by the stair as I went out. Are ye well, Sassenach? Ye look a bit fashed, all in all." He eyed me appraisingly. I picked up the looking glass, and found that my hair was standing out in a bushy mane round my head and there were dark circles under my eyes. I put it down again with a thump.
"No, I'm perfectly all right," I said, with an effort at controlling myself. "And how is Laoghaire?" I asked, assuming casualness.
"Oh, quite bonny," he said. He leaned back against the door, arms crossed, watching me speculatively. "A bit surprised to hear we were married, I reckon."
"Bonny," I said, and took a deep breath. I looked up to find him grinning at me.
"You'd not worrit yourself over the lassie, would ye now, Sassenach?" he asked shrewdly. "She's naught to you—or me," he added.
"Oh, no? She wouldn't—or couldn't—marry you. You had to have someone, so you took me when the chance offered. I don't blame you for that"—not much I didn't—"but I—"
He crossed the room in two steps and took me by the hands, interrupting me. He put a finger under my chin and forced my gaze up.
"Claire," he said evenly, "I shall tell ye in my own time why I've wed ye—or I won't. I asked honesty of you, and I've given ye the same. And I give it to you now. The girl has no claim on me beyond that of courtesy." He squeezed my chin lightly. "But that claim she has, and I'll honor it." He released my chin and chucked me softly under it. "D'ye hear me, Sassenach?"
"Oh, I hear!" I jerked free, rubbing my chin resentfully. "And I'm sure you'll be very courteous to her. But next time draw the drapes of the alcove—I don't want to see it."
The coppery brows shot up, and his face reddened slightly.
"Are ye suggesting I've played ye false?" he said, unbelievingly. "We've been back to the Castle less than an hour, I'm covered wi' the sweat and dust of two days in the saddle, and so tired my knees wabble, and yet ye think I've gone straight out to seduce a maid of sixteen?" He shook his head, looking stunned. "I canna tell whether ye mean to compliment my virility, Sassenach, or insult my morals, but I dinna care much for either suggestion. Murtagh told me women were unreasonable, but Jesus God!" He ran a large hand through his hair, making the short ends stick up wildly.