Her hatred had retreated impossibly far, considering how she’d raged when he’d kidnapped her, dragged her to Scotland, forced himself upon her.
She’d lost Soraya. She’d lost her sustaining resentment against him. She’d lost her longing for freedom.
What was left? She hardly dared to find out.
Somewhere in the last days she’d forgiven him. Perhaps when he’d wept in her arms. Or when he’d listened to her sorry history without judging her.
Or perhaps she’d finally forgiven him during that desolate moment in the kitchen before she’d escaped. The moment she’d admitted he and she shared much more than just carnal passion.
Certainly, by the time he’d been so furiously intent on saving her life yesterday, she hadn’t hated him.
How could she hate a man who acted as though, without her, he lost every hope of happiness? For one strange second on that cliff face, she’d recognized that he would have gladly changed places with her if it meant she stayed safe.
Oh, why did she even think about this? Hadn’t she wanted him to keep away from her? And at last she’d managed to coax him into a halfhearted agreement to let her go.
But she couldn’t forget how he’d looked as he’d left last night.
He’d been a man at the limits of his endurance. She’d seen him in the grip of physical desire, but this was something else, something infinitely more powerful.
Not for the first time, she wondered if they’d end up annihilating each other before this contest played out.
“Och, lassie, it’s too bright a day tae look so fashed.” Hamish came around the corner of the house.
The giants were nowhere to be seen. Clearly, Kylemore thought he’d vanquished her impulse to run off. Why not? He had.
She managed a smile for the older man. Chasing her fears and doubts around her head was driving her mad. At least company promised distraction.
“It’s a strange place, this valley. Yesterday, it was utter misery. Today, it’s the Garden of Eden.”
Hamish stopped in front of her, his bright eyes considering as they rested on her. She wondered what he saw. Nothing of Soraya, that was sure. His manner was unguarded, and for the first time, he sounded genuinely friendly.
“Aye, it’s a country of extremes,” he said. “Much like the people born here.”
Verity’s curiosity got the better of her now that the normally taciturn Scotsman seemed in a mood to chat. “Does that include the Duke of Kylemore?”
Hamish shook his grizzled head. “No, my lady. The heir is always born at the castle further down the coast. Young Kylemore grew up in this glen, though. At least until he was seven and they sent him away tae some Sassenach school tae learn tae be a wee gentleman.” Hamish’s sarcastic tone indicated what he thought of that plan.
Verity glanced around at the isolated valley. It was an unlikely location to raise one of the kingdom’s greatest landowners.
“And you were here then?”
“Aye, I worked for his father, the sixth duke. The Macleishes have always been in service tae the Kinmurries.”
“I understand your loyalty to the duke,” she said softly.
Hamish looked at her sharply. “I doubt ye do, lassie. I doubt ye do. Justin Kinmurrie is a better man than he lets ye or anybody see.”
Once she’d have laughed such a statement to scorn. But recently, the duke hadn’t behaved like the unredeemed villain she’d believed him on the road north. And even on that onerous journey, he hadn’t been as cruel to her as she was sure he’d intended.
Light and dark battled for supremacy in Kylemore’s soul. Occasionally, she was lunatic enough to imagine light might emerge victorious.
Oh, you’re a willfully blind fool, she chastised herself. He kidnapped and abused you. Never forget that. Don’t make the mistake of imagining just because he saved your life, he’s some sort of hero.
She bit her lip. Did she really want to learn more about Kylemore? She was too confused already. Right now, she needed a clear head and a cold heart. A devoted servant’s reminiscences about the duke’s childhood would only cloud her thinking, remind her that Kylemore was human and not the monster she so desperately wanted him to be.
But Hamish’s teasing offer of information lured her. This might be her only chance to answer her questions.
She met the old Scotsman’s steady gaze with equally unwavering eyes. “You know him so well,” she said.