Tempest Heart - Paula Quinn Page 0,52

romantic heart and he asked to see—”

“He is Tristan MacPherson!” the captain said through clenched teeth.

“No!” Poor Jones looked completely stunned and horrified. “He is Geraint Ward, a shep—he could not even fight!” Jones continued to argue. “I had to save him from some thieves.”

“Of course he could not fight,” Captain Harper growled. “I shot him with an arrow not very long ago and the wound became infected. He is still healing. Where did he go? What did he tell you?”

Jones seemed to be still reeling from being duped by the outlaw. The captain had to give him a shake to get him to listen. “Tell me everything he said.”

“He spoke about shepherding his flock and being lonely in the winter…or…I do not remember.”

“How could you not remember?” the captain demanded.

“He had whisky and…”

Captain Harper gave him an incredulous look. “He got you drunk.”

“No!”

“What did you tell him about the earl?”

Jones looked as if he might lose consciousness. “Nothing. He did not ask about the earl. He asked about…her. I told him nothing!” he hastened to assure the captain. “I told him we were searching for Tris—him and he asked how we knew he was near. He asked me what the earl had done about it and I told him—” he stopped and grew a sickly shade of green. “Captain, I…I told him you shot him.”

The captain took a step back. His jaw was clenched. Rose had never seen him so furious. He looked at her and she quickly tried to give him a reassuring smile. In truth, she had no idea what Tristan would do about it.

“Jones, I should throw you out, but MacPherson did not become who he is by being dull-minded. He is clever. There are tales of him finding ways into the most fortified strongholds and killing his intended victim and anyone else who got in his way.” He turned and looked at Rose with sadness coloring his eyes deeper blue. “He is intelligent and good at pretending.”

She blinked and startled just a little as if he’d struck her. “Captain Harper, I am not dull-minded either.” Her words had more snap in them than anyone was used to hearing from her.

The captain looked at his boots.

“He did not see me lying among the dead and dying and think in his mind that must be Rose Callanach, the lass everyone thinks died six years ago. I will carry her away from the bones beneath her and lay her on the clean grass.” As she spoke, her eyes burned with tears. “I doubt he told himself if she lives, I will pretend to be kind and thoughtful, valiant and generous, until she brings me to her father. He may have pretended with everyone else, Captain, but with me, he was genuine. I refuse to allow you to make me think otherwise.”

She turned to leave and saw her father standing by the solar door. She hadn’t heard it open. How much had he heard? His expression was unreadable, but his dark eyes were sharp on her.

He stepped to the side of the door and motioned her into the solar. “Come, let us share words.”

She went, drawing her strength from the new life she’d experienced since she woke up wrapped in Tristan’s Highland plaid. She sat in a chair by the window and looked out.

“Harper wants me to run and hide.”

“Only guilty men do that,” she replied softly. Silence reigned for a moment before her father spoke again.

“You love him.”

She looked at him and nodded, knowing it would hurt him. But she had to tell him the truth. She had to keep them both safe.

“I do not pretend to understand what he saved you from, Rose, my darling. But I think you are confusing love with gratefulness.”

“Father, I’m grateful to him for all he has done for me, but I do not believe I am confusing it with love. I think of him every moment that I am awake, and I dream of him when I sleep. I want to be with him for the remainder of my days, however long or short they may be. He looks at me and I…” She couldn’t tell him that he looked at her and she felt more at home than she had ever felt here at the castle. It was no fault of her father’s. He had always been loving and kind—save when he fell into his moods but that did not happen often. Still, her home was a cold, desolate place.

“I

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