Return of the Scot (Scots of Honor #1) - Eliza Knight Page 0,72

interrupted her. “A friend, ye say? Is it true? Are ye feeling well?”

Jaime chuckled and popped the rest of her sandwich into her mouth. “I’ll deny it should anyone ask.”

“There she is.” He plucked another tea sandwich and ate it in one bite. “I want to tell ye, lass.”

Jaime settled back against the cushions with her feet tucked under her, teacup in her lap. She watched him—patient, no judgment—and he realized then, he wanted nothing more than share his story with this woman and this woman alone.

“We were close to defeat, but my men and I soldiered on. Fighting the demandable French, knowing that death was soon to be our sentence.” He paused a moment, feeling himself sink back onto that smoke-covered field, where bodies littered the blood-soaked earth. “I ordered my men to retreat. We needed to get away from the blasted cannon fire. And as we made haste, the ground around me exploded. I was knocked unconscious.”

Jaime was silent, but her expression said everything she felt—horror, fear, trepidation.

“When I woke, I was no longer on the field but in a dark cell. A dungeon in a French bastard’s fortress.” Her soft gasp was enough to make him want to leap up and pull her into his arms. To change the subject. Perhaps back to kissing. “Shall I stop?”

“Nay,” she whispered.

“All right, but ye must tell me if this is too much.”

Her wide brown eyes never left his. “I will. Please, continue.”

“All right.” Lorne washed the bitter memory down with the last dregs of his tea. “I did not know if my men had made it to safety or no’. No idea how long they planned to keep me.” He held out his cup for a refill. “For days, they questioned me. Tortured me. The only thing that made me think they did no’ mean to kill me was the fact that my wounds from the battlefield were treated, as were the wounds they inflicted through torture.”

“Lorne,” she murmured. “I had no idea.”

“No one did, sweetling. Else I imagine I’d have come home a lot sooner. They got inventive with their torment, pitting one prisoner against the other. Whenever I got close enough to one of the guards, I would fight him too in hopes of escaping or at least allowing one of the other men to leave.”

“Did ye know any of them?”

He shook his head. “Never met any of them in my life. But I never forgot their faces and if I came across them today, I’d recognize them. I didn’t realize how much time had elapsed. One day, the men and I devised a plan. When they unlocked the cell and we passed through, one of us stuck a slim piece of rock in the side slot, so they’d think they’d locked it, but truly the rock would block the bolt. We prayed it would work. And it did. When the guards settled down for the evening, which often meant drinking and gambling, we slipped right past them and into the night.”

“That easily?” She looked surprised, as she should be, because it wasn’t.

He shook his head but didn’t want to tell her that they’d overpowered and killed the guards. Stole their clothes and coin to book passage. But as he gazed into her eyes, he knew he could trust her with his dark secrets. “We did some things…”

Jaime nodded, a slight smile on her lips. “Good. They deserved it.”

And that was that—full and utter acceptance.

Lorne set down his cup, took off his doublet, and rolled up the sleeve of his linen shirt. He’d seen her glance at the scars poking out when he’d come to help her on her ship. Seen the curiosity that lingered in her gaze. And he wasn’t afraid to share his wounds with her.

“What are ye doing?” she asked, eyes on his movements.

“I want to show ye my scars.”

“All of them?” She glanced at the door.

“No’ all of them, lass—we have to save something for the wedding night.” He was teasing, though he did hope a marriage between them would happen.

“Alison may have a fit of apoplexy.”

“She might.” He winked. “I hope ye will no’.”

“I’m no’ scared, Lorne. No scar ye show me would change how I feel about ye.”

He paused, unable to not tease her. “Are ye admitting to having feelings for me?”

“Aye, I’m just no’ going to tell ye what they are.”

He laughed at that and stood, walking to where she sat. He held out his left arm, so she could