He stood under a low-hanging bough, staring out over the field, tension radiating from his every muscle. He didn’t notice her right away, and she took a moment to study him. He looked so tall and proud—so handsome—in his Gordon plaid kilt and red coat. He’d removed his hat, and it sat on the ground beside him. The breeze ruffled his thick russet hair, and she itched to run her fingers through it as she had so many times before. What seemed like a lifetime ago.

His expression was grim and stony, his eyes icy and hard as he gazed down at the scene of desolation.

She wondered what it had been like for him. The battle. Had he killed many men?

She closed her eyes in a long blink, straightened her shoulders, and went to him, wedging herself between him and the tree.

He didn’t note her presence until she was beside him. He glanced at her, then turned his gaze back to the field.

Silence reigned for long moments. Finally, she murmured, “How is your head?”

“Better.” One word, bitten out as if it annoyed him to answer.

She took a deep, calming breath. “Good.”

Silence again.

Finally, Rob turned his head to look at her. “Why’re you here?”

“This is the third time you’ve asked me that question.”

“You havena answered it, though.”

“Not to your satisfaction.”

“Aye.”

She laid her hand on his arm. His muscles grew tense under her palm, but she steeled herself. “I told you I was here for you. That’s true. But also, I wanted to be here for you.”

“Why?” He scowled. “I canna fathom why you’d want to be in this godforsaken place.”

He was right—she hadn’t given him a satisfactory answer. Words like “for you” and “I wanted to be here” were trite and insufficient.

Even when she’d traveled across the English Channel for a singular purpose, her pride still fought against telling him the whole truth. Her pride, that was, and her fear of rejection.

Now that she knew the war was over and he’d lived, wasn’t that enough?

No, it wasn’t.

She must do this. She’d waited long enough. Now, she simply needed to be brave.

“I came here to apologize.”

“For what?”

She gazed downward, winding the blue ribbon of her sash around her finger, curling it around and around. “For the way I behaved when you last came to Norsey House.”

He was quiet, and she risked a look up at him from under her lashes to see his frown had grown even deeper.

“You crossed an ocean and risked a bloody battle to apologize for a few words spoken in anger a year ago?”

“Ten months ago,” she corrected softly.

He made an incredulous noise. “A letter would’ve sufficed!”

She dropped the ribbon and clenched her hands into fists. “No, it wouldn’t have. I needed to see you in person. I thought I’d have the time so I could arrive before the battle, but I…but I…” Her throat tightened. “I wasn’t able to be here in time. If you had—if I’d lost you before I could say sorry…”

“Claire—”

“No, let me finish, please,” she ground out, holding up her hand to stop him but still not able to look at him. “I was sorry for saying those things. I am sorry. Not a day has passed that I haven’t regretted those words. I ought to have told you sooner—I ought to have written you. But I’m stubborn and silly and muttonheaded and…and…” She swallowed hard. Dear God, she sounded like such a fool!

“Claire, look at me.”

His thick, calloused fingers grasped her chin and turned her face to him. She gazed at him, blinking furiously. The smallest of smiles quirked his lips, and he moved his hand up to cup her cheek. His palm was so rough. She’d always loved that about him—his roughness.

“There’s naught to forgive,” he said softly.

“Yes, there is.”

“There’s my Claire,” he murmured. “Stubborn as ever.” He pressed the gentlest kiss to her lips, then pulled back.

She gazed at him, recognizing the flare of hunger in his expression, though she hadn’t seen it in so long. She’d never forget it. It was the way he’d looked at her so many times before, after that first soft press of their lips.

Arousal. Desire. His eyes had darkened, and his lips were slightly parted. A dark flush bloomed in slashes across his cheeks.

Now, Claire. Now or never.

She surged forward and crushed her lips to his.