Page 36 of Falling for Her Highland Steward
“Because I do not wish there to be any more arguments between us.” Again, he spoke in a neutral tone, without a trace of emotion. “Moreover, I wanted you to know that I have decided to rent accommodation in the village. I think it is best for all concerned.”
“Why?” Erin gazed at him, at the chiseled angles of his face, his firm-lipped mouth, his glorious corn-blond hair, and his deep, dark eyes, and knew that if he left, her heart would break.
“Because I cannot bear to watch you marrying Grieve,” he replied, shrugging.
“But why?” She was exasperated. “You have not given me one proper reason why I should not. Tell me. Please.”
“Because I—” he began, then he squared his shoulders and shook his head. “There is nothing I can put my finger on. My instincts tell me that you should not tie yourself to him.”
“Damn your instincts,” she hissed. “My instincts tell me he will be a good husband, he will provide for Stephen and me, and we will be fine.”
Caillen leaned his elbows on the table and put his head in his hands so that she could not see his face. “Erin, I did not want to have to tell you this.” His voice was muffled, but as he swept his hands away from his face, she could see that it was white. There was a long pause before he spoke again.
“I am working for Michael,” he told her at last. “I have wanted to tell you for a long time, and eventually, I almost reached breaking point, but he threatened me if I did.”
“With what?” Erin asked. She was so terrified that she had begun to tremble. “You are scaring me, Cal. Please.”
Caillen looked into her emerald eyes, which were shining with unshed tears. “Let me begin at the beginning,” he suggested. “That way, everything will make sense.”
Erin nodded, suddenly unable to speak. A feeling of complete dread was spreading from her stomach to her heart, as she swallowed deeply and tried to concentrate on Caillen’s words.
“You know that Michael never does anything out of charity?” he began. “He took me from my father’s farm, and I thought it was because he saw some potential in me. He did, but that was not his only motive. He educated me, housed, and fed me. He even gave me a beautiful horse, and in my innocence, I thought that he was being kind—a benefactor who was looking after my interests.
“All this you know. You asked me once if he had ever demanded any repayment, and I told you he had not. I was lying. As I left after my graduation ceremony, he came up to me, patted my shoulder, and smiled. I can still see that smile.” He shuddered. “He has very dark gray eyes, but that day, they were black, and I could see myself reflected in them as if I was inside them, as if I could not escape. I know it sounds fanciful, but I knew something bad was going to happen.”
“A premonition,” Erin said heavily. “An instinct.” She was not laughing now.
“He said that I could repay him in silver,” Caillen went on, “or in services. I did not have the sum of money he wanted, so I agreed to help him with whatever he wanted to do as long as it did not involve killing anyone. He agreed to that.”
“And what was the service you were to do for him?” she asked, frowning and feeling as though something ominous was about to drop on her.
“He wanted me to tell you this.” His voice had dropped to a near whisper. “He has Stephen, as you know. He has threatened to kill him if you marry Laird Grieve. However, if you marry Michael and sign the estate over to him, he will spare his life.”
Caillen watched the color drain from Erin’s face as the news sank in, and he hastened around the desk to put his arms around her.
She was sitting stock still, as rigid as a block of wood, but inside, her heart was cracking. She could not lose her son, her beautiful boy. She would rather be dead herself. After a moment, she realized that Caillen was holding her, and for the first time since she had known him, Erin pushed him away from her. She looked at him with utter loathing. The shock that had hit her like a thunderbolt at Caillen’s news now gave way to rage.
“How long have you known this? Days? Weeks?”
“About a week,” he confessed, his gaze sliding away from hers.
“And you did not tell me?” Her voice was a squeal.
“I had no choice!” he replied, trying to stay calm. “Please understand, Erin. He threatened my family, and if he finds out that I told you, he will kill Stephen straight away, so I had to try to persuade you. He has the power and the will to do it. I saw it in his eyes. I always knew that there was a callousness in him, but I never dreamt he was capable of something like this.”
Erin stood up and poured herself almost a full tumbler of whiskey, then began to pace the room, back and forth, until she became dizzy. She poured the whiskey down her throat in one draft, then threw the crystal glass away to shatter to smithereens in the fireplace.
“What can I do?” she roared to the heavens. “I cannot lose my son!” Then she sank onto the carpet, put her hands over her head, and rocked back and forth, weeping bitterly.
Caillen could hardly bear to look at Erin suffering so badly, and he knelt down by her side and drew her into his arms.
“Erin, this is my fault,” he whispered. “Let me help to return Stephen to his mother.”
Erin shook her head. “No, it is my fault,” she sobbed. “I trusted Michael. I sent Stephen away with him. Now I will have to marry him whether I want to or not to save my son’s life.”
Caillen stood up and drew her to her feet. “Look at me, Erin,” he commanded. When she did not immediately comply, he put his forefinger under her chin and tilted her face up to his. How he wished he could kiss her!
“He will not kill Stephen—or anyone else—because I will not let him.” His voice was that of a warrior now, and his face was full of fury, his dark eyes like pits of shadow under his lowered brows.
