He pushed Konnor’s shoulder. Red crept into Konnor’s vision. Calm down, he said to himself. This isn’t high school. You know how to handle this. Remember what you did to Jerry…
But it raged within him, the need to punch Tamhas in the face. He remembered his stepfather. His bloody, swollen face, the completely shut eye, the broken nose. All because of Konnor’s hands.
No. He needed to be stronger than the young man who lost control. Stronger than Jerry.
“Go to hell,” Konnor said and turned around to follow Muir, but Tamhas turned him around.
“I dinna care if Robert the Bruce himself trained ye. Ye stay away from Marjorie, outlander. I see how she looks at ye, and how the lad is excited. Ye’ll die in the battle or will be gone soon anyways. And I’ll be left to gather the pieces of her heart. She fell apart once and could barely pick herself up. Dinna repeat the experience for her, do ye hear me?”
Tamhas removed his hand and walked away, and Konnor stood in a stupor and with a pain around his heart. He realized that Tamhas was right. He’d be gone sooner or later, and he’d hurt her when he left…and surprisingly, this time, he’d hurt himself, too.
And he may never recover.
Chapter 22
That night, after dinner, Konnor walked Marjorie to her bedchamber. She lingered before her door, wondering…hoping…searching for a kiss.
They’d had such a wonderful day yesterday. She hadn’t seen Colin so excited for a long time. Konnor had managed to cheer him up, and even today, Colin had kept playing soccer, the game from the future.
And today, after the midday meal, she’d trained with Konnor again for the rest of the afternoon. Konnor was… Oh Jesu, how he made her heart sing. How that scene made her wish the impossible—that Konnor would stay. That Konnor could belong to her time. That he could play soccer like that with Colin every day. Wouldn’t that be a wonder?
His eyes shone like an endless night sky in the flickering light of the torch. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, his gaze on her lips. He made her arms feel soft and warm, and he made her knees weak just by looking at her.
“Good night, Marjorie,” he rasped.
“I dinna think I can sleep without a kiss goodnight,” she whispered, surprised by her own audacity.
Then without waiting for him, she stepped forward and kissed him.
She kissed him!
He pressed her tighter against him, like he was a drowning man, and she was his last hope. His lips urged her more than yesterday, his tongue a sweet, lashing desire. She lost all sense of time and space.
Only he existed—and the hot, hard flesh of his body under her palms. His lips. And his tongue. And that clean, masculine scent.
He stopped first this time, but he didn’t let her go. Instead, he pressed his forehead against hers and breathed.
“If I don’t stop now,” he rasped, “I’ll never want to stop, Marjorie.”
Then dinna, she wanted to say. But her shields went up again, cooling her senses. Oh, she wanted to smash them and let them burst into shards like a cup made of glass.
But those shields had protected her against any pain without fail for twelve years. And she couldn’t imagine living with her heart so exposed and vulnerable. Because no matter how much she wished for him to stay, he wouldn’t.
“Aye, ‘tis best,” she said and stepped back. He eyed her, his gaze intense and heavy. “Good night, Konnor.”
That night, there were no nightmares of danger chasing her and a dark, strong man entrapping her. No. She dreamed of hot, gentle lips, and big arms that protected her, and of a happy, married life that she’d never have.
The next day, Konnor looked much better. He still limped, but he said exercise was good for his leg. They trained until midday meal, after which he went to help hammer in the sharp spikes on the northern wall. Something about being in his proximity made the sun shine brighter, and the air fresher. It filled her belly with a strange feeling, like a flock of starlings launching into the sky.
Later that night, when they walked towards the tower together, dark thoughts came into her mind. When would the MacDougalls attack? Would Konnor survive? She’d need to keep an eye on him during the battle. If he did survive, if they won, how soon would he leave her?
Sooner or later, he would. Cold crept into her body and prickled through her limbs. What did she expect? He’d never promised to stay with her forever. He had a life back there, in the future. His mother needed him. And she had to stay here. She had her people to think of. But she’d be lonely. She’d think of him every day.
Warm summer rain drizzled over the castle, and the scent of wet, lush earth hung in the air. The courtyard was dark, save for a few torches on the walls. The distant hum of voices came from the great hall, where people were still having dinner.
“Why were ye never marrit?” she said.
Konnor stopped in his tracks and turned to her with a frown.
“Why do you want to know?”
“’Tis just…” She exhaled, blinking against the tears accumulating in her eyes. “I will never be marrit.”
His face darkened. “I wish you’d stop with that. You’re every man’s dream. Beautiful, strong, kind, and smart.”
He took her hand in his, burning her with the heat of his skin, and put her fingers against his lips. A sweet shiver went through her.
“But no one could want me after… Ye ken.”
“Any man with eyes and brains would want you. And those who don’t, don’t deserve you, do you hear me?”
She exhaled and nodded. His words were like a balm on her ragged soul.
Konnor sighed. “The truth is, I don’t know what it’s like to be a good husband or a good father. Romantic love is a lie. It’s an illusion that just leads to heartbreak. My mother loved my father, and he died. She loved Jerry, and he abused her. And after all the violence I’ve seen and the things I’ve done, I don’t think a man like me should get married or should become a father.”
Marjorie shook her head. “A man like ye? A brave, kind man of honor? A smart, educated man with military experience? Ye’d make a wonderful father and husband, even if ye didna have an example.”
A man who melted her heart like the sun melted wax…
Marjorie opened her mouth to tell him that it didn’t matter to her, not one bit, when feet pounded against the dirt of the courtyard.
“Mistress! Mistress!” Malcolm yelled.
She whirled around. “What is it?”
“The MacDougalls. They’re on their way. The signal came from the lads.”
Marjorie’s back broke out in a cold sweat. “Where?”
“South, mistress. By the turn to Kinnavar.”
Marjorie exhaled softly and nodded. “A hard ride away.”
So close… So close to Colin! To her… Her whole body began to shake. “Are the lads on the way back? We must start preparations for the siege. Call everyone—”
“Wait,” Konnor said. “They’re just preparing to sleep for the night and will probably attack tomorrow, right?”
“Aye.”
Konnor took both her shoulders in his hands and looked into her eyes. “So we should take them by surprise. Attack right now, in the dark.”