He cursed his father. He learned the lesson he beat into him.Why did he learn it yet Ailsa did not?Ailsa never shielded her heart, freely loving all. But him, damn, he could not give it to anyone.Hell, he wished for nothing more than to love Portia. To see the joy Ailsa wore every day, to feel the happiness Duncan possessed. Though Duncan tried to hide it. Never had he thought to hurt Portia. That was a promise he had given freely when she laid in his arms, fighting for her life.If anyone deserved love, Portia did. She had opened his world, helped him be the man he was supposed to be, a better man. Was that what he always wanted to be? A better man than his father. He lacked the ability to love. Truth was, if not for her, he would have floundered. He was man enough to admit that. He was an arse.Needing to work off this simmering anger, he rushed to the training fields. Men crowded the fields, practicing their sword work. He snatched up a training sword. The weight was double of a claymore he kept at his side, just what he needed so he could just collapse and not feel worse than the lowest of men, which he knew he was.He removed his claymore as he said, “Who will be first to show me what you have learned?”
