"Isn't that what you wanted?"
"Not entirely." His gaze shifted to her face, and she received the shocking impact of those searing blue eyes. "I also wanted you to suffer, and instead you've taken the easy way."
"Easy?" she asked, stung. "I've worked very hard."
"But it's the kind of work that fulfills you, that you'd be unhappy doing without."
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but Margaret prefers to care for Ian's personal needs."
"I should have expected you to escape, I suppose." He smiled. "But now that I'm here, I can rectify that mistake."
She stared at him incredulously. "You can do nothing to me. I told you it was my choice to come here and it will be my choice if I leave."
"And you've been thinking of leaving Glenclaren, haven't you?" he asked softly. "I've been expecting that for quite a while. Three years is a long time."
"I suppose Margaret mentioned that I've been seeking work with a few of the local railroads."
"No, she spoke only of Glenclaren, but I knew you'd grow restless."
Yes, the mandarin had always known her thoughts, she realized in despair.
He nodded as he read them now. "Aye, I know you. I thought I knew you before, but no one knows you as well as I do now. I didn't want to think about you, but you were there." His lips tightened. "I'd lie down to sleep after breaking my back on the mountain and there you were. At first I was angry, but after a while I grew accustomed to you intruding. You became part of my life. You became part of me."
She shivered. "You hate me."
"I don't know what I feel for you any longer. I know only that I have to rid myself of you." He paused. "And I can't do that until I know you've been punished for what you did to Ian."
"Good God, I have been punished. Every time I look at him I hurt."
"But you don't look at him. You stay away from the castle in your cozy little cottage by the mill and seldom see his pain."
She refused to justify herself, when he wouldn't believe her anyway. "I'm not going to make excuses. You don't want to hear what I have to say."
"No, it's too late for excuses. Actually, I blame myself for failing to take into account Maggie's zeal. I suppose it doesn't really matter. I'm here now and can shape events to suit myself." He smiled. "I have to get on to the castle. I stopped by only to warn you not to try to run away from me."
"If I chose to leave here, nothing you say could make me stay."
"But I'd find you. Or Li Sung." He paused. "Or Patrick. Did I mention I paid a visit to Patrick at his lodging house in Edinburgh?"
She stiffened warily. "You know you didn't."
"Perhaps because he was less than coherent. Is he always drunk these days?"
"So I understand," she said reservedly.
"I was surprised you'd let him out from under your protective wing. Could it be your fondness for the scalawag is waning?"
She didn't answer.
"But there still seems to be some feeling there. His landlady says your quarterly payments keep him out of the gutter." He nodded. "Yes, I believe I can use Patrick." He reached out and tucked her shawl more closely around her shoulders in a gesture that was oddly possessive. "Go back to the cottage. It's growing cooler and you'll catch a chill."
The gesture caught her off guard and she stared at him in bewilderment. "You wouldn't care if I froze to death."
"That's not true. I'd care very much. I don't want anything or anyone to touch you." He paused. "But me. I want you to realize that I'm the only wind that can blow you either good or ill." The words were spoken softly, casually, but she was aware of an underlying intensity. His fingers reached out and caressingly touched the side of her throat. She experienced a shock of heat that caused her to jerk away from him.
He smiled as he noticed the involuntary response. "I'll be back tomorrow morning to see you. By that time I will have had my talk with Maggie and Ian and be ready to state my proposition."
"You're going to try to persuade Ian to go to Spain?"
"No, I'm taking him home to Cinnidar with me."
Her eyes widened. "He'll never go."
"You're wrong. Ian will come with me." He met her gaze. "And so will you, Jane."
She forgot to breathe. "No," she whispered.
"Don't go to the mill tomorrow morning, or I'll come after you."
"Are you threatening me?"
"Not at the moment. But yes, I am a threat to you. However, sometimes we choose to embrace a threat if we find it to our advantage. And you'll definitely find my proposition to your advantage, Jane." He turned and started down the hill. "By the way, don't wear that shawl tomorrow. It displeases me."
This man who had once asked her to wed him didn't think her worthy to wear the clan tartan. Strange that such a small thing should sting her when she had borne much worse from him. "You may not feel I belong here, but Margaret gave me this shawl and I have every intention of wearing it."
"You believe I'm outraged you're desecrating the honor of the clan by wearing it?" He shook his head. "If I thought you could do that by wearing the blasted thing, I'd dress you in the MacClaren plaid from head to toe. I have no fondness for Glenclaren or its trappings. My father made sure I knew I didn't belong here."
"Then you should not mind me wearing the tartan."
"But then, I'm not always reasonable. The tartan's like a brand of ownership, and I don't like the thought of Glenclaren owning you. Don't wear the shawl again."
The panic she had tried to hide from him raced through her as she watched him walk away. He had only had to appear and she had been immediately plunged into the same emotional turmoil as the moment she had left Kasanpore. Only moments before he had come she had been bewailing the sameness of Glenclaren, but now she desperately wanted that monotony to return.
He could not make her go to Cinnidar, she thought desperately. He could not make her do anything. The time was past when he could play on her emotions and twist her to do his will. She was safe from him now.
She drew a deep, steadying breath, trying to calm herself. Yes, she had still felt the fascination drawing her to him, but that had been only of the flesh. It might be a power he would always have over her, but it was a power she could fight. It wasn't love. She was over that madness now. She had purged herself of that insanity during these years away from him.
It wasn't love.
Chapter 11
He'll never go," Margaret told Ruel flatly. "If Ian refused to go to Spain, do you think he'll travel halfway across the world to Cinnidar?"
"We have to persuade him to go. Spain is too close to be a solution for him. He would start thinking about Glenclaren and you'd find yourself on the next ship to Scotland."
"You may be right." Margaret frowned. "But I've heard the East is hot and unhealthy."
"Do I look as if it's hurt me?"