Chapter 29
One week later, Leona stood at the window of her childhood bedchamber and felt nothing.
Well, that wasn’t quite true. She felt empty. Hollow. Like someone had scooped out everything vital and left only the shell behind.
Kerr Castle looked exactly as she remembered. The same gray stone walls, the same tapestries hanging in the halls, the same worn stairs she’d climbed a thousand times as a child.
Coming home should have felt like a victory. A triumph. The return of the rightful heir to reclaim what had been stolen.
Instead, it felt… wrong.
She’d arrived one week ago with Rufus, Nyx, and an escort of guards that Murdock had insisted upon.
Or so Hamish had said, because Murdock didn’t even come out of his study to say goodbye.
So she’d accepted because refusing would have meant seeing him again, and she couldn’t bear that.
Couldn’t bear to look into those dark eyes and see duty instead of desire. Obligation instead of love.
So she’d left at first light, just as she’d planned. Had squeezed Skye as tightly as she could and then she had ridden away from Ainsley Castle without looking back, even though every fiber of her being had screamed at her to turn around.
The journey had been quiet. Rufus had tried to make conversation, but she’d responded in monosyllables until he’d given up. Even Nyx had been subdued, curled up in Leona’s saddlebag and making only the occasional grumpy meow.
They’d been met at the gates by what remained of her father’s council and a handful of clan members who’d remained loyal. The welcome had been warm but cautious. Ragnall’s brief but brutal reign had left scars, and it would take time for them to heal.
Time, she now had. All the time in the world, stretching before her like an endless gray road.
“Leona?” Her mother’s voice, soft and concerned, came from the doorway. She had arrived shortly after the council sent word of their return.
Leona turned to find Isla standing there, her face creased with worry.
“Maither. I didnae hear ye come in.”
“I knocked. Twice.” Isla entered the room, gently closing the door behind her. “Ye were somewhere else entirely, I think.”
“Just… thinkin'. But I am happy to have ye back.”
“About him?” Isla’s voice was gentle, knowing, ignoring the way Leona had tried to shift the conversation.
Leona’s throat tightened. She’d told her mother the basics about Murdock, about the fake betrothal, about Ragnall’s death. But she hadn’t told her the rest. Hadn’t explained that somewhere along the way, the fake had become achingly real. At least for her.
“It doesnae matter,” she said, forcing a smile. “It’s over. I’m home. That’s what matters.”
“Is it?” Isla moved to sit on the edge of the bed and patted the space beside her. “Come. Sit with me.”
Leona wanted to refuse. Wanted to maintain the careful control she’d been holding onto for the past week. But she was so tired of being strong. So tired of pretending her heart wasn’t breaking.
She crossed the room and sank onto the bed beside her mother, and Isla immediately wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“Tell me,” Isla said simply.
And just like that, the dam broke.
“I fell in love with him,” Leona whispered, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I ken I shouldnae have. I ken it was just an arrangement, just protection, nothin' real. But I fell in love with him anyway, and now I’m here, and he’s there, and I feel like I’ve left half of meself behind.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks, hot and unwelcome. She pressed her hands to her face, trying to hold them back, but they kept coming.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Isla pulled her closer, letting her sob against her shoulder like she was a child again. “I’m so sorry.”
“The worst part is that he never lied to me.” Leona’s voice was muffled by her mother’s dress. “He told me from the beginnin' that he couldnae give me what I wanted. That he didnae believe in love. I’m the fool who thought I could change his mind.”
“Love makes fools of us all,” Isla said softly, stroking her hair. “Yer faither certainly made a fool of me.”
Despite her tears, Leona managed a watery laugh. “How?”
“He proposed to me three times before I said aye. Three!” Isla shook her head at the memory. “Each time, I told him nay. Told him I had duties, responsibilities, that I couldnae just follow me heart like some silly girl in a romance novel. And each time, he just smiled and said he’d wait.”
“What changed yer mind?”
“The fourth time he asked, he didnae smile.” Isla’s voice softened with memory.
“He looked me right in the eye and said, ‘Isla, I ken ye’re afraid.
I ken ye think choosin' love over duty makes ye weak. But I’m here to tell ye that lovin' someone, truly lovin' them, is the bravest thing ye can do. And I’ll wait as long as it takes for ye to be brave enough to choose me'.”
Leona pulled back to look at her mother. “And then ye said aye?”
“Then I burst into tears and told him he was an insufferable romantic and aye, I’d marry him, but only if he promised to never make me feel guilty for being practical ever again.” Isla smiled through her own tears. “He agreed. Though he broke that promise regularly.”
“I miss him,” Leona whispered.
“I ken, darlin'. So do I. That’s why I left after his death.” Isla cupped Leona’s face in her hands. “But I have nay regrets. Every moment I had with yer faither, even the hard ones, was worth it. Because we chose each other. Every single day, we chose love.”
“Murdock didnae choose me, though. He chose duty.”
“Did he?” Isla tilted her head. “Or did ye choose for him by leavin' before he could say otherwise?”
The question hit Leona like a physical blow. She opened her mouth to protest, to explain that she’d seen the truth in his eyes, that she’d known he was only marrying her out of obligation.
But had she known? Or had she assumed?
Before she could respond, a knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” Isla called.
Rufus entered, looking miserable. He took one look at Leona’s tear-stained face, and his expression crumpled.
“I’m makin' it worse, am I nae?” he said. “I keep trying to cheer ye up, but everything I say is wrong, and ye just look sadder.”
“Och, Rufus.” Leona held out her arms, and her brother crossed the room to embrace her awkwardly. “Ye’re nae makin' it worse. I promise.”
“Ye’ve been cryin' for three days straight.”
“I havenae.”
“Ye have,” Rufus said, pulling back to look at her seriously. “Every night. I hear ye through the walls. And durin' the day, ye pretend ye’re fine, but ye’re nae fine. Ye’re miserable.”
“I’m just… adjustin'.”
“Ye’re heartbroken,” he said bluntly. “And I daenae ken how to fix it. I tried telling ye jokes. I tried showin' ye that terrible poetry. Nothin' works.”
Despite everything, Leona felt her lips curve slightly. “Ye tried poetry?”
“Aye. The really bad kind with too many rhymes.” Rufus made a face. “It was awful. Ye didnae even notice.”
As if summoned by the mention of misery, a soft meow came from the doorway. Nyx padded into the room, her tail high, and without hesitation jumped onto Leona’s lap.
The cat turned around three times, then curled into a tight ball, her purr rumbling like distant thunder.
Leona stared down at the small black creature in surprise. “She’s been doin' this,” she murmured. “Seeking me out. Sitting with me.”
“Aye,” Rufus said quietly. “It’s odd. She never used to be this… affectionate.”
“She misses Skye,” Leona whispered, stroking the cat’s soft fur. Tears welled up again. “She used to talk to her all the time. Tell her stories. Treat her like she was the most important creature in the world.”
“And ye’ve started doin' the same thing,” Isla observed gently.
Had she?
Leona supposed she had. It was easier to talk to the cat than to people. Nyx didn’t judge, didn’t offer unwanted advice, didn’t look at her with pity.
“I miss her,” Leona admitted. “Skye. I ken I only kent her for a short time, but she is… special. Bright and curious and so full of hope.” Her voice broke. “And now I’ll never see her again.”
“Because ye left,” Rufus said quietly.
“Because I had to leave.”
“Did ye, though?”
Before Leona could answer, another knock sounded at the door. This time, it was Duncan, one of the guards who’d helped her escape.
“Forgive the interruption, me Lady, but the council requests yer presence. They wish to formally congratulate ye on reclaimin' the clan.”
Leona wanted to refuse. Wanted to send them away and stay here with her mother and brother and the cat, who’d become her unlikely comfort. But that wasn’t an option. She had responsibilities.
“I’ll be down shortly,” she said.
The meeting was exactly as tedious as Leona had expected.
The council gathered in the Great Hall, along with what looked like half the clan. They applauded when she entered, calling out congratulations and welcome.
Duncan stood and made a long speech about justice and rightful succession. Others followed, each praising her courage, her sacrifice, her triumphant return.
Leona smiled and nodded, playing the part they expected. The brave Lady who’d reclaimed her birthright. The dutiful sister who’d saved her brother.
Inside, she felt nothing.
They’d given her everything she’d thought she wanted. Her home back. Her brother safe. Her clan restored.
She should have been elated. Vindicated. Proud. Instead, she just felt empty.
When it was finally over, she escaped back to her chambers, with Nyx trotting along behind her. The cat had become her shadow these past few days, following her everywhere with unusual devotion.
Leona sank into the chair by the window, and Nyx immediately jumped into her lap.
“Well, Nyx,” she said softly, stroking the cat’s fur. “We did it. We’re home. Everythin' is exactly as it should be.”
Nyx looked up at her with those knowing yellow eyes and meowed, a long, plaintive sound that seemed to say, Is it, though?
“I’m being ridiculous,” Leona continued, knowing she was talking to a cat but unable to stop herself. Skye had done this all the time, and somehow it had made sense. “I have everythin' I need. Me home, me family, safety. What more could I want?”
Nyx meowed again, more insistently this time.
“Ye’re right,” Leona said, even though she had no idea what the cat was trying to communicate. “I’m miserable. And talkin' to ye like ye’re Skye isnae helpin'.”
But she kept doing it anyway. Because talking to Nyx, pretending the cat understood, was easier than admitting the truth to herself.
That she’d made a terrible mistake.
That she’d left her heart behind in Ainsley.
That no amount of duty or obligation or practical reasoning could fill the void where Murdock and Skye should be.
A soft knock at the door made her look up. “Come in.”
Her mother entered, carrying a tray with tea and food that Leona had no appetite for. Isla set it on the small table and settled into the chair across from her.
“Ye ken,” she said conversationally, “when I met yer faither, I thought I had me whole life planned out. I’d marry whoever me parents chose, run me household efficiently, produce heirs, and live a perfectly respectable, perfectly borin' life.”
“What changed?”
“Yer faither.” Isla smiled. “He was so… alive. So full of passion and joy and reckless certainty. He made me want things I’d never let meself want before.
Made me believe that choosin' love over duty wasnae weakness, but courage.
The thought of livin' without him was worse than the fear of bein' hurt.” Isla reached across to squeeze Leona’s hand.
“Me darlin'' girl, I see ye sittin here in the home ye fought so hard to reclaim, and ye look more lost than ye did when ye were fleein' for yer life.
That tells me everythin' I need to ken about where ye truly belong.”
“But what if…”
“What if he doesnae love ye?” Isla finished gently. “What if he does, but he’s too afraid to say it? What if ye’re both too scared to take the leap?” She paused. “What if ye spend the rest of yer life wonderin' what might have been if ye’d been brave enough to try?”
Leona looked down at Nyx, who was purring in her lap, then back at her mother. “Ye think I should go back.”
“I think ye should do whatever will let ye sleep at night without cryin'.” Isla’s voice was soft but firm. “And right now, that isnae here.”
Before Leona could respond, Rufus burst through the door, his face flushed with excitement. “Leona, we have visitors!”
Leona’s heart sank. “If it’s the council again—”
“Nay.” A familiar voice, deep and rough and achingly missed, came from the hallway beyond. “Nay, indeed.”
Everything stopped. The world, her breath, her heart.
Then a younger voice, bright with joy: “Kitty!”
Nyx’s head snapped up, her ears pricked forward. Then she launched herself from Leona’s lap with a yowl of pure feline enthusiasm, bolting for the door.
“And Leona!” Skye’s voice called, closer now, filled with the same excitement. “Is Leona here, too?”
Leona couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything but stare at the doorway.
Murdock appeared.
He filled the doorway, looking exactly as she remembered and somehow different all at once. Still tall, still broad-shouldered, still dangerous. But there was something in his eyes she’d never seen before. Something vulnerable and desperate and terrified.
Behind him, Skye peered around his legs. When she saw Leona, her face lit up like sunrise.
“There ye are!” The little girl darted past her father and threw herself at Leona, wrapping small arms around her waist. “I missed ye so much!”
Leona held her tightly, her eyes still locked on Murdock as Skye chattered on.
“And Nyx missed me too, see?” Skye gestured to where the cat was weaving between Murdock’s legs, purring so loud it could be heard across the room. “She’s welcoming us! She remembers me!”
“Of course she does,” Leona managed, her voice barely above a whisper.
Murdock hadn’t moved from the doorway. Hadn’t taken his eyes off her. The intensity of his gaze made her skin prickle and her heart race.
“What are ye doin' here?” The words came out breathless.
His jaw tightened. “We need to talk.”