He laughed raggedly. “I…love you…Sabrina.” He said the words slowly, as if testing the concept.
“Surely you jest.”
His dark-lashed eyes lifted. “No. ’Tis no jest. You’ve bewitched me, mouse. I think I’ve loved you since the moment you threw yourself into the fray against the Buchanans to save my skin.”
Stunned and disbelieving, Sabrina shook her head. Niall loved her? She had never dared hope he would come to that. Never.
No, she couldn’t credit it. Her mind reeling, she pressed a hand to her temple, trying to comprehend his intent. Why would he make such a patently false claim?
Perhaps he was simply vexed because she had defied him. Perhaps his vanity couldn’t bear to have any woman resist him, and he considered this the swiftest means of gaining her surrender. He was a practiced rake, accustomed to winning feminine devotion with blandishments and bold persuasions, so what was one more lie to him?
She stood staring at him, her arms bound tightly across her middle. “I can only guess what you’re about. You think me so besotted that I’ll fall at your feet in gratitude if you only throw me a crumb of your affection. So you lie and profess to love me.”
“’Tis no lie, Sabrina. I swear it.” Niall spread his hands in supplication. “Why do you suppose I was so infuriated when I thought you were dallying with Keith Buchanan?”
“Because you hate all Buchanans.”
“Aye, but not enough to have behaved like such a bloody fool. I was insanely jealous.”
“Is it any wonder I cannot believe you?” she whispered in a voice raw with bitterness. “You’re a wicked rogue who would say anything to suit your purpose.”
Muttering a curse, Niall regarded her narrowly. “By the saints, I vow to you, no lass has ever claimed my heart before.”
“Perhaps because you have none.”
“Sabrina…”
When he took a step toward her, alarm welled within her. She held up a hand to ward him off. She couldn’t permit him to touch her. She knew herself well enough to realize that if she allowed it, she would be lost.
“Sabrina, love—”
“Don’t call me that! I am not your love. You can’t even comprehend the meaning of the word.” Her voice trembled as she pointed to the door behind him. “You think you have only to snap your fingers and I will leap to do your bidding. Well, I won’t! And I won’t return to the Highlands with you, either. So go away. I bid you good day.”
“I am not leaving, Sabrina.”
“You are!”
When he wouldn’t move, she pressed her fist into his chest, thrusting Niall backward to drive him from the chamber.
“Sabrina…you’re distraught—”
“Aye, and you’re the one who made me so! Damn you, leave me be!”
With a final shove, she pushed him over the threshold and slammed the door in his face.
Shaking with anger and pain then, Sabrina turned and buried her face in her hands, releasing a sob that came from the deep grieving hollow of her heart.
Niall stared at the carved wooden panel with incomprehension, wanting to pound down the door. He had never failed so wretchedly with a lass.
He could insist that Sabrina return home with him. He had the right, since she was bound to him by marriage. But he wanted her to come with him freely. If he stormed back into her chamber, their conflict might elevate to violence, for he had every intention of making her see reason. He would do better to let his temper cool first.
Indeed, he needed to marshal his dazed senses and attempt to fathom what had happened to him. For weeks he had denied his own heart, but he could escape the truth no longer. He loved Sabrina.
The realization stunned him.
Turning, Niall made his way down the steep stairway and quit the house, his thoughts in turmoil. He needed time to grow accustomed to the notion.
As he wandered the narrow streets haphazardly, losing himself in the maze of closes and wynds of the old city, he tried to recall precisely when the incredulous change had come over him. From the first he had been attracted to Sabrina beyond reason, but what had begun as a rake’s game to free her of her prim inhibitions had ended in a devastating complication. He had fallen in love.