Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

" Mo ghràidh, I ne'er loved her," Leo said in a low voice. "I swear to ye."

Agnes did not look up, only away, and shrugged a shoulder.

"Listen to me, sweet. And I came up with those rules—conditions, as ye call ‘em." He tried for levity, but Agnes only glanced over at him, through him, as though she didn't see him. "I came up with them on me ride to England. I thought to make it easier for me English bride." He swallowed hard. "I did think that if a Highland woman couldnae bear to see me face, how could an Outlander?"

Leo thought those words would work, but instead, Agnes's face paled.

"Forgive me," she said. "But that sounds like a poor and hasty excuse. You know I was not raised as a lady, Leo. I have tended to wounds—your wounds. You have seen my scars! I do not…"

She swung her legs around and leaped from the rock on the other side, walking away, her hands wrapped around herself. Leo slowly rose and followed her. He stopped a few feet away when she spun around. There was sorrow and rage in her eyes, a fury that gave him a sinking feeling that he was losing her.

"I do ken all of that, Agnes."

"So what, you think me a coward? So cruel?" Agnes all but spat. "That I could not bear to look at you? When all I have done is ask and try…" She put a hand to her face and let out a laugh that broke into a sob. "It will never work, will it? Even if you don't want her, you look at me and you see her."

"Nay, Agnes," Leo said in a harsh, impatient tone. "Ne'er."

"And yet you measure me by her, Leo," Agnes said, and that struck deep. She regarded him sadly as he tried to school his expression. "I see it now. We will never truly be wed, will we?"

"What the hell d'ye mean?" Leo felt his temper fraying. "I could ask ye the same, Nes, as I stand here and wonder if ye believe a word of what I've told ye. Have I nae kept me vows—spent time with ye? Kissed ye? Consummated our marriage as ye wished?"

She flushed. "I believe you think your words are true, Leo, but our vows feel hollow to me in light of all this…" A long, broken sigh escaped her lips. "I won't ask you again after this, but if you do mean all of this, you would remove your mask right now." Her eyes were steady. "Because you should know that the scars you carry do not matter to me."

The wind dropped, and the loch seemed to go still. If Leo raised his gaze and looked northwest, he'd be able to see the outline of what was left of MacLarsen Castle. The skin under the mask itched as though the fiery blade had just burned him yesterday.

And even though all he could see was the green of his wife's eyes, he could smell the smoke, hear the scream of the Caoineag , of Flora?—

"Please," Agnes said in a soft voice. "Know that I do not see you as the Beast of Briorn—and never will."

"I cannae, Nes," Leo said, and the ground seemed to sway under his feet. Her eyes dropped, and a sad smile crossed her face. Impatient, he stepped up to her and seized her shoulders. "Ask me anythin' else—for everythin', and I will give it to ye."

"There is nothing else I want but you, Leo," Agnes said in a soft tone, and she looked up at him, tears rolling down her face. "Don't you see that? Or do you want me to see you as a beast as everyone else does? Will you keep your heart locked away even from me?"

"Nay, nay. Stop this. Ye have me, woman," Leo said. He was ready to get down on his knees. "Ken that I'm doin' ye a kindness with this mask. I cannae bear to scare ye—or make ye run away from me."

"If you think I would run…" Agnes sighed.

Leo let her go, and they stood there, nearly touching but impossibly apart. He stared down at her dark head, and his chest heaved. Why, why, why had the Griersons come today? And why couldn't Agnes trust that he knew best?

It has nothin' to do with Flora. I dinnae measure her by Flora's failure…

The word jolted Leo, stirring something deep inside him, but then Agnes spoke again, and everything flew out of his head.

"When my mother returns to England, I think I should go with her," Agnes said. "I need to speak with my father—see Emma."

"I shall go with ye, then," Leo said.

"No." Agnes stepped back.

"Aye. I am yer husband, Agnes. We willnae be parted."

"You think so, don't you?" Agnes said. "But you cannot take me home—you cannot even let me into yours."

"I—"

"I am no better than a guest you have spurned for seven years, Leo," Agnes said. "You will never let me into your life, nor your heart." She took a deep, shuddering breath as he shook his head, stepping closer to her. "And I need some time, some distance from you, Leo. To figure out how…"

"How?"

She pushed her hands into her hair. "It doesn't matter. But please, let me be."

"Leave ye alone, ye mean," Leo said in a bitter tone, and he executed a mocking bow. "After ye made yer demands and conditions, got close to me and—" Became me heart. "Fine. Do what ye will, I dinnae give a damn."

With that, he turned and stormed away.

The day had darkened, and he felt restless, wanting to ride Fafnir out into the storm, but he would not risk the poor horse in his temper. Instead, he went to the woodshed, fetched up an axe, and headed to the distant yard.

There, he stripped off his shirt, hefted up a log, and began chopping wood. It was an old technique to soothe his mind and heart—one that his uncles Donal and Balley had insisted on after he lost his parents. The mindless intensity and labor usually took the edge off.

Not this time. As the storm approached, it seemed to rise under his skin, and his heart felt frantic. Every muscle was too tense, every bone ached, and even his blood felt too hot, too fast. Deep down, he knew he should've gone after Agnes, made her see reason?—

The wind was starting to rise and howl, rain pelting his bare skin, when he sensed someone approach. He sank his axe into the stump, then slowly turned, expecting to see his petite, dark-haired wife. Her green eyes would still be filled with reproach, but she would insist that he get inside.

Instead, a blonde, blue-eyed viper stood there, offering him a vapid smile. Leo almost reached back for the axe. He picked up his shirt and mopped his face.

So much rage filled him that he did not notice a petite shadow at the edge of the woods, heartbreak filling her green eyes as she turned and fled back to Briorn Castle.

Flora saw it, however, and her smile grew wider.

"Ye are still here," Leo spat, wondering why this daft viper was smiling so. He glanced toward where she was looking, but only saw the trees moving in the wind. "Why? Are ye tryin' to test me patience and goodwill?"

"It's the storm," Flora said and draped a shawl over her head. She smiled prettily. "Och, Leo, I am so sorry. We will have to stay the night, but perhaps I can make amends?—"

"Seven years too late for that," Leo said with a snort.

"Ach, Kristie said the same," Flora said. He frowned at that, and Flora saw but misunderstood. "Seven years ago, she told me to stay away, that I had ruined things." She shook her golden head. "I shouldnae have listened. And I shouldnae have taken off yer mask… Ye still look fine with it."

Leo stared at her, then barked out a laugh. Amid the hell of this day, his heart warmed. How could he have been so wrong about Kristie? Of course, she'd been looking out for him. She hadn't given a damn that he had scared Flora—she'd been disgusted by Flora and worried about him. And she must have told Fergus, for no wonder the man hated Clan Grierson with passion.

Again, Leo felt that powerful relief that he had not wed such a woman. His days would have been miserable with Flora's petulant moods and needs. Even now, she looked at him like a prize and something to further her ends—not as himself, not as Leo.

She ne'er saw me. Nae how Agnes does. His heart throbbed. How Agnes wants to see me—all of me.

"Ach, I ken now," he murmured.

Relief filled Flora's face. "Ye do?"

"Aye," Leo said with a cold smile. "I ken me sister is long overdue thanks—seven years of gratitude. Thank ye for tellin' me." He shrugged a shoulder as her eyes filled with confusion and outrage. "Ye may stay the night, but I dinnae want to hear yer voice again while ye're here. Nor do I want to see ye ever again after tomorrow."

"You dinnae mean that," Flora said in a shrill, unhappy voice.

Leo lifted a hand. "I do. I am married, and happy, which I now understand wouldnae have happened had ye nae shown yer true colors seven years ago—colors that are worse for wear now. Away wi' ye, Grierson, I am busy."

"Leo." The shout made him lift his head, and he saw Granny Ro hurrying toward them, moving as fast as her cane would allow. "Flora. Get inside, the storm is approachin' fast."

Flora hurried off, not looking back once, and Granny Ro came forward, her eyes flashing with fury.

Leo sucked in a breath. Was his wife out in this poor weather?

"Where is Nes?"

"Inside, of course," Granny Ro said. "As ye should be. Come along, lad."

His grandmother did not wait for him but began to walk back to the castle. Leo picked up the axe and spun it, then sliced the last log. He then glanced around and lifted the axe, noting the metal had a mirror-like shine that warped his reflection a bit but still revealed him.

He'd worn the mask so long that he didn't remember what it was like not to wear it.

But perhaps he could try.