Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The clearing fell completely silent as Darragh uttered those last words. Amelia was released as though her skin had the ability to burn the guard holding her, and she was left standing on wobbly feet. Each gasp of air she sucked in stung.
“Amelia,” Darragh said, resheathing his sword as he walked toward her.
The only thing Amelia was able to offer in response was a weak squeak. Her eyes were locked on her father, and she wasn’t feeling a single thing she thought she should. There was no sadness, no resentment toward Darragh for what he did, no regret for not just going quietly.
It’s a relief.
“I daenae have to worry about him ever again,” she whispered, unmoving and incredulous. Even though Darragh was barely an arm's length away, it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear.
“What is it?” he asked, pulling out a dagger and cutting away the binds with a flick of his wrist. “I dinnae hear what ye said.”
Amelia shook her head, bringing her hands in front of her.
Experimentally, she rolled her wrists and found only stiffness.
Her ribs were a different matter. Even in her current state, where her focus was on the events around her rather than on her internal affairs, there was a razor’s edge to the pain at her sides.
“Are ye all right?” he asked, reaching out to her but stopping short like he was afraid of hurting her further.
She wasn’t well, and she couldn’t reason why he’d ask. Instead, she finally looked up at him, away from her wrists, away from the body. “Thank ye.”
Darragh stepped closer, finally taking hold of her wrist. He examined the new bruising. His thumb stroked the place where the rope had bitten into her flesh. A long, shuddering sigh slipped past her slightly parted lips.
“Me father is…” she began, the truth sticking to her tongue after being held close to her chest. She met Darragh’s gaze, and his expression held something softer than she’d ever seen there. It derailed her thoughts, and eventually, she gave the only truth she could. “I am Amelia Mackenzie.”
With a laugh so soft she nearly melted into him, he said, “Aye. I found yer letter.” Then, as his men began to clear out, taking the prisoners and injured back toward the keep, the humor faded, replaced by something sure enough to take her breath away.
“But that man forfeited the name of father the day he sold ye.”
For a moment, she wasn’t sure that she’d heard his words correctly. Once she was sure she hadn’t, she searched his face for any signs that he didn’t believe what he’d said. There were no signs of doubt there, nor regret, nor calculation now that he knew her lineage.
When she showed no signs of pulling away, Darragh reached for her hands. His touch was steady and certain. As he threaded their fingers together, she felt as if the ground beneath her feet grew more solid.
“I couldnae tell ye,” she said after a beat, referring to everything.
“He is…” Her gaze flicked to where he lay.
“He was a dangerous man. I feared what he might do if either of ye kent.” She closed her eyes, waiting for something other than the enduring understanding the Laird offered.
“Are ye nae angered that I kept it from ye? Ye heard him. I am a liability.”
Darragh sighed, but he never let go of her.
His strong palms tightened around hers. “Ye’re right.
He was a dangerous man.” He looked down at her, allowing her to see a glimpse of his inner conflict for the first time since he’d arrived.
“And aye… I am angered that ye kept somethin’ so important from me. ”
Amelia’s heart stuttered. She began to step away, ashamed and defensive, even though she’d been the one to broach the subject. He didn’t let her, though. His grip remained unwavering, and he closed the tiny distance she’d managed to put between them.
“I…” she began, too much happening in her mind to explain herself. Or thank him properly. Or get upset that he was remaining so infuriatingly calm.
“Is what ye wrote in that letter true?” Darragh finally asked, blunt and to the point. He watched her like his entire existence hinged on her answer.
“Aye,” Amelia said without hesitation. It was the only thing she was sure about, and she’d realized it as she was leaving. “I love ye, Darragh. With all me heart.”
She didn’t have time to overthink the implications of saying the words aloud. Nor was she able to be embarrassed at having such feelings known when she’d only just realized them herself. Choosing to answer without words, he pulled her flush against his front. Then, he connected their lips.
It was sure and steady, a direct response to her confession. He went slowly at first, clearly worried about hurting her like he had what felt like a lifetime ago in the great hall. Amelia couldn’t care less about the pain right now.
She let herself sway completely into him, using his solid weight as an anchor in the storm that the day had been. His hands shifted, gingerly grabbing onto her waist. Her own palms traveled up his arms as she kissed him back, relief mixing with an almost adolescent giddiness.
Wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on with all of the strength she had, Amelia let her lips open. Darragh groaned, a soft noise borne of frustrated restraint. With a growl, he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers.
“Ye’re hurt.” It wasn’t a question, and she knew he wouldn’t let her attempt to hide it.
“It’s nae too bad.”
“I daenae care how minor ye think it is,” he said, finally pulling back. He looked her over as if assessing her for unseen injuries. “I will ask Isla to check ye over. We’ll see what she says.”
Amelia laughed, her breath catching as she did. The joy flooded through her, and she felt lighter with each passing second. It wasn’t until her lungs began to ache that her giggles subsided.
“I suppose she is a neutral party, isnae she?” Amelia said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “Though she’s a wee bit too strict for me likin’.”
“When it comes to ye, I’m nae takin’ any chances ever again,” he told her, dragging her toward his mare. “Now. Let’s get ye back to the castle.”
* * *
Despite Amelia’s declaration that her injuries weren’t something to be fussed over, Darragh saw the way she winced when he placed her in the saddle.
As carefully as he could, he climbed up behind her. Even though he barely jostled her, he could hear the way she gasped. Something must have happened to her ribs in addition to the new angry marks on her wrists.
“Ye ken there’s nay reason to pretend ye’re nae hurtin’ around me,” he said, reaching around her body to grab onto the reins. “I ken ye’re stronger than some bruises.”
“Ye expect me to be unable to tolerate pain?” she asked as she leaned into him, letting him hold her upright. “They dinnae get a chance to do anythin’ worse than has already been done to me.”
Darragh went quiet, his fists tightening around the leather. Hearing her speak so casually of the event so quickly after it happened filled him with a protective fury. He was glad she was mostly uninjured, but she didn’t have to put on a show for his benefit.
“Nay, I’m nae implyin’ ye cannae handle yer injuries,” he said as he urged the horse to leave the area. He’d send someone to clean up this mess when they got back to the castle; his concern was riding in front of him. “But I’m tellin’ ye that ye daenae have to hide anythin’ from me.”
For several minutes, they rode in relative silence. It was broken only by the sound of the horse’s hooves against the ground and the birds singing in the trees above them. On another day, a ride like this might be restorative.
“I was terrified,” Amelia said finally, the words barely above a whisper. “When I heard that he was makin’ personal visits, I kent he was lookin’ for me.”
Darragh grunted in acknowledgment, giving her space to speak. She didn’t need to know his mind went to the same place right now. He drew his arms in a little tighter, increasing the support he was lending her.
“I thought I’d leave at first,” she continued, her hands tangling in the mare’s mane. “And then I decided I couldnae. I was enjoyin’ me time here. I felt as if I were a part of somethin’ and nae just… a liability.”
“Ye’re never a liability,” he said fiercely.
She hummed, going contemplatively quiet for a beat. “Even though I was set on stayin’, I spotted him after ye left. If I stayed, I wouldnae have had a fightin’ chance without ye around. So I left.”
“Ye daenae have to run anymore,” he promised her, increasing their speed as the ground slowly leveled out. “I kent that leavin’ ye there was wrong. The whole time I was out, me gut was tellin’ me that I needed to get to ye. I will always be by yer side from now on.”
“That’s a big responsibility,” Amelia muttered, the tips of her ears going pink. There was the hint of a smile in her voice, though. And, at the very edges, there was hope.
“Ye must ken by now that ye’re anythin’ but just a responsibility to me, Amelia.”
She inhaled sharply, going rigid for a split second. Then, her body relaxed, and she sighed. The quiet was its own answer, as close as she’d get to agreeing with him without forcing him to argue his point.
That will come, though. As soon as she’s patched up once more.