Page 14 of Highland Heart

ROSINA

She and Dugald had sated their lust twice today and it wasn’t enough. She knew now it would never be enough, and she was beginning to fear that when Dugald left she would be torn in two.

Rosina and her mother were making their way to the great hall to eat and Rosina was struggling to pay attention to her mother’s conversation. And she wasn’t hiding the source of her distraction very well at all.

“That boy has bewitched you again, Rosina. I see it in the way you look at him.”

“He’s hardly a boy.” Rosina spoke before thinking and knew she should have denied the accusation. She shot her mother an uneasy look.

“He was not good enough for the daughter of a Gordon.” Jeanette didn’t seem to have heard her. She was speaking quickly, as if she was eager to get the words out. “He was a landless youngest son with no prospects. You deserved something more. You did the right thing by renouncing him. If your father’s relatives had answered my letters I could have arranged a match for you that was fitting.”

“They didn’t answer your letters and now Dugald has a great many prospects,” Rosina retorted, her voice tight, her throat tighter.

Jeanette shrugged, but her expression was uneasy. “It was for the best. I was a mother and you were my daughter and I did what I thought was best.”

Rosina sighed. They had been over this before, and although she knew Jeanette had been acting to protect her, right now she was finding it hard to forgive.

“You knew I had no choice, Mother. If I hadn’t done as you told me you were going to reveal to the laird the truth about Ewen and Elspit. That they were meeting in secret. And if you had done that ...” She stared hard at Jeanette Gordon. “You told me I had to break off with Dugald. You told me if I didn’t you would give up Elspit’s secret to her father, and he would have Ewen and his brothers hanged at worst, banished at best. We all knew he was only waiting for the excuse to rid himself of the Campbells.”

“It wasn’t my fault Tighe discovered about his daughter’s behaviour from someone else,” Jeanette said, her face tight, but her eyes were panicked.

Rosina hesitated in the doorway to the great hall. Mary was already there with some of her particular friends, one of whom Rosina noted was Ewen’s young squire, Robbie.

“I walked away from Dugald when you swore you would not tell. I did it to save him and his brothers, to save Elspit. And then barely a day later someone had whispered the secret in the laird’s ear. You always said it wasn’t you ... you swore to me it wasn’t ...”

Something in Jeanette’s face stilled her, and she knew. All her mother’s protestations, all her promises, all this time believing her. It was Jeanette who had destroyed Elspit’s life, and Rosina’s.

“It was you, wasn’t it? You made me renounce my husband and the hand fasting, and then you told the laird about his daughter anyway.”

Her mother avoided her eyes. “It was for your own good,” she admitted. “I knew you would have gone to him if he was still here. You would have begged him to take you back, and he would have done it. Everything I did would have been for nothing!”

Rosina knew it was true. She would have begged Dugald to take her back, she had been planning to slip away and find him and explain why she had betrayed him. But her mother had kept her too close, watching her every move, and then it was too late. Now the shock of betrayal made her feel sick, and yet she should have known. She had been a blind fool, too easily persuaded into doing something she had known was wrong. And yet part of her had believed what she was told, that Dugald was too young, that he didn’t love her, that he would leave ... When all along she had adored him, and breaking off with him had destroyed all her hopes of happiness.

“He wasn’t good enough for you,” Jeanette hissed. “I knew you would find someone who had more to offer, who would rise you again to the heights you deserved. You are a Gordon, child!”

“Rise me up? Our family are no longer of any importance. We are done, finished, and there have been no offers for me,” Rosina said dully.

“That was because you bore a bastard child. That was his fault too. Why could you not have kept your legs closed, Rosina?”

Rosina gasped. She could see that her mother was relieved to have confessed her secret—perhaps the words had been burning a hole in her tongue all this time. Elspit and Ewen had suffered for ten years because of her mother’s betrayal. She looked at her now and didn’t know what to do with her. If she revealed the truth then Elspit might cast Jeanette out. Would Rosina have to go with her? And what of Mary?

Her mother clutched at her hand. “Don’t tell them,” she said, and her voice was almost a whine.

Rosina stared back at her, speechless, her mind twisting and turning. “I need to think,” she said. She went to walk away and then spun around, as if the angry words couldn’t be held in any longer. “How could you have done that, mother? To Ewen and Elspit, and to me and Dugald? If you hadn’t told the laird then I would still be ... He would still be ...”

But she couldn’t finish. It was too painful to think that but for her mother’s ridiculous ambitions, and Rosina’s own failure to stand up to her, she and Dugald would still be together.

***

She pressed her palm against the door to Dugald’s chamber. She told herself that she was here because she had to tell him what had happened all those years ago. But it wasn’t entirely true. She was also here because since their meeting in the armoury she had been unable to think of anything but him.

It was as if he had pushed his way inside her head as well as her body, and now she was full of him.

He was an unstoppable force. Ten years ago she knew she had hurt him, wounded his pride, and he had left her. If she wanted to be free of him again, would she need to do the same? Could she even do such a thing? And then there was Mary ... Dugald was her father and Rosina knew whatever fears she had for her own heart she must keep matters courteous with Dugald for their daughter’s sake.

When Dugald was done with her, she would have to pretend her heart was not broken all over again. He would return to the duke and take up his life, probably marry someone young and important and beautiful, like Mistress Stewart, and for the sake of her pride she must pretend it didn’t matter to her.

But for now, he was on the other side of that door, waiting for her. He wanted her, she couldn’t mistake that. And she wanted him.