Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The castle lay wrapped in an uneasy silence, the kind that followed days of strained politeness and heart-rending refusals. Selene waited in her bedchamber until the last echoes of movement had faded and she dared to slip out into the passageway.
Barefoot, she moved slowly, her discarded slippers tucked under her arm. The stone beneath her feet was bitterly cold, sending shivers up her legs, but she welcomed the bite of it. It kept her sharp. Awake. Focused.
Her heart pounded so fiercely she feared the sound might give her away.
She had only the vaguest notion of where Kenneth’s chamber was located, only that it was on the floor below hers and not far from the stairs. Perhaps if she pressed her ear to the doors she could discern which was his.
She had never done anything quite like that before.
Never crept through shadowed corridors in the dead of night, never had she defied the rules she was expected to abide by with such deliberate intent.
Of course, there’d been one time – it seemed a lifetime ago now – when hunger had driven her to the kitchen at Castle Duntulm in the dead of night.
But that was quite different. There was nothing really unladylike in seeking a little something from the kitchen.
She smiled, recalling the wicked way Kenneth had frightened her half to death with his tales of the ghost of a woman stalking the castle, searching for her lost love.
She could be that ghostly woman now, seeking the solace of Kenneth’s presence and his strong arms surrounding her.
The thought of remaining in her chamber – knowing Kenneth was somewhere else in the castle, just as restless, just as unable to sleep – was quite intolerable.
Now she was setting forth on another midnight ramble. Only now her hunger was not for supper, but for Kenneth.
A treacherous voice whispered that this might be their last night. Her heart twisted. No matter what, she knew he must leave. He could spare no further time away from his own lands.
He would sail tomorrow for Skye.
She pushed the thought aside and eased onto the stairwell, one careful step at a time, clutching at the rough stone of the wall for balance.
The darkness seemed to breathe around her, alive with whispers and half-heard sounds.
Somewhere the sea roared against the cliffs below the castle, a low, constant thunder that echoed her own turbulent thoughts.
Halfway down, her foot tangled in the hem of her robe and she almost fell.
The slipper tumbled from her grasp and struck the stone step below with a sharp, traitorous clatter.
She froze. The sound seemed alarmingly loud in the dim silence of the castle.
Before she could even draw breath, a shadow detached itself from the darkness below. Steel flashed as a blade was drawn, the whisper of it slicing through the air.
“Who goes there?” came Kenneth’s low, deadly growl.
Her heart leapt straight into her throat.
“It’s me,” she hissed, barely louder than the wind beyond the walls. “Kenneth, it’s me.”
He stepped closer, and the moment recognition dawned, his shoulders sagged. He dragged a hand down his face and sheathed the sword with a muttered curse.
“Saints preserve me,” he breathed. “Ye’re abysmal at sneaking quietly, woman.”
She snatched up her slipper and glared at him, even as relief left her weak-kneed. “And whose fault is that?” she shot back in a whisper. “If you hadn’t turned my life upside down, I’d be safely abed like a sensible lady.”
His mouth twitched despite himself.
Before he could reply, the sound of footsteps echoed from the corridor above.
Kenneth caught her wrist and pulled her sharply into the recess of the wall, pressing her back against the cold stone. He leaned over her, his arm braced beside her head, his body shielding hers completely.
She scarcely dared to inhale.
“Breathe,” he murmured near her ear. “But softly.”
The guard passed within feet of them, lantern swinging gently, the soft clink of his weapons punctuating the silence. Selene could smell the leather of Kenneth’s gloves, feel the steady heat of him despite the chill, the solid reassurance of his presence anchoring her frantic heartbeat.
When the footsteps finally faded, she let out a shaky breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
Kenneth didn’t move at once. For a long moment, they remained pressed together, the intimacy of it far more dangerous than any guard.
“Come,” he whispered at last, his voice rough. “Before fate decides tae test us further.”
They slipped through the postern door and out along the outer wall. The night greeted them with a sharp wind and the smell of salt. Rain began to fall almost at once, first a mist – a smirr – then heavier drops that soaked into Selene’s hair and cloak.
Kenneth turned to face her, his expression grave now, stripped of teasing. “Even though Halvard refuses us again come morning,” he said quietly, “I must leave fer Sleat at dawn. I cannae linger here and leave me clan without its laird.”
Her chest tightened painfully. She had known this moment was coming, yet the words still struck a cruel blow.
Suddenly, it had become all too real. He would leave her tomorrow and return to Duntulm Castle. Back to the place she’d become so fond off.
If Halvard had his way, there’d be no wedding and she’d not see Duntulm again. Maureen would be there, lonely, and one or two of the villagers might even wonder what had become of the English lady they’d become used to.
Kenneth would ride alone along the rutted track on Arkan’s back, without this annoying woman to share his saddle.
A part of her was already longing for the liveliness and excitement of the life she’d been living among the MacDonalds.
And Kenneth.
She looked up and met his eyes and something inside her slipped sideways, as if her heart was struggling out of her chest to be with him.
“And I’ll not ask ye lightly,” he was saying. “But if he denies us… will ye come with me anyway?”
The world narrowed to that single question.
She did not hesitate.
“Yes,” she said, the word fierce and certain. “I don’t care what he says. Or anyone else. I’m yours, Kenneth. I always have been.”
Something broke open in his expression. At first there was disbelief and then, as understanding dawned, that gave way to something raw and unguarded, showing her his whole heart – and she knew then, it truly belonged to her.
He stepped closer, rain streaming down his hair, his breathing an unsteady rasp.
The storm rose around them, wind tearing at their cloaks and his plaid, the sea roaring below as if bearing witness.
They stood so close, desperately wet, shivering – whether from cold or from their deep feeling for each other, it was impossible for Selene to say – her heart was racing and all she could think of was his lips on hers and the wonder of his touch.
Kenneth lifted a hand and cupped her face, his thumb brushing rain from her cheek. “Say that once more,” he murmured.
She said again, “I am yours,” although there was no need. He knew the truth of it.
He gazed deep into her eyes, and a shiver went through her as he lowered his lips to hers and she lifted her head to meet them.
This time there was no restraint between them. This was no gentle, polite kiss, but one born of despair and longing, of stolen moments and heartfelt choices. And long held passion and desire.
Selene grasped his shirt, holding him tight, pouring every unspoken fear and hope into the press of her mouth against his. His touch was everything that made her heart beat faster and her spirits sing, joyous and passionate at the same time.
Heedless of the rain pouring over them in torrents neither could pull away, until the overriding need to breathe, relentlessly forced them apart.
When they parted, breathless and laughing softly from the sheer delight they each took in the other, Kenneth tugged the tail of his plaid free and wrapped it around her shoulders, drawing her close beneath its shelter.
“We should take cover,” he said, amusement threading his voice. “Before the guards decide tae interrupt us again.”
Still smiling, they slipped back into the castle, dripping water onto the flagstones, their laughter barely constrained as they retraced their steps through the darkened halls.
Selene flung herself up the stairs still clutching Kenneth’s hand. She was certain now of her heart’s delight and she wanted him more than she’d ever dreamed could be possible.
At the door of his chamber, he paused and turned to her.
“I will understand if discretion persuades ye tae return tae yer chamber.” He pushed open the door and placed a foot inside the room. “If ye stay with me, it should only be that ye wish it fer yerself. Nae tae please me desire fer ye.”
She stood beside him in the doorway, so close that she could feel his breath and the heat of his body and smell the rain and his wet plaid.
She shook her head. “No, Kenneth. I have no wish to be any other place than beside you. I have made up my mind. I do not care for wagging tongues or the condemnation of my brother-in-law.” A shy smile quirked her lips. “I wish to be with you. Only you.”
She pushed past him and walked into his bedchamber, her heart beating wildly in her chest.
His dark gaze was fixed on her as he stepped behind her into the room. His hands trembled slightly as he peeled off his wet cloak and firmly closed the door.
He reached for her, folding her into his strong arms and they kissed again, their clothes plastered to their bodies, their hair dripping. Little rivulets ran down their cheeks while pools formed at their feet, neither of them giving a fig for the state they were in.
They took their leisure with the kiss, tasting, exploring, discovering, reveling in the sureness of the love they held for each other. It was only when they broke apart that the cold crept into Selene’s bones and she began shivering.