Chapter 10
“Do ye mean that?”
“Aye, I daenae feel safe alone. And now, I feel… I feel safe with ye, Evander. Will ye stay with me again?”
She feels safe with me. I make her feel secure.
The words bounced around in Evander’s head, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. She’d said it so casually, almost as an afterthought.
“I feel safe with ye, Evander. Will ye stay with me again?”
His chest tightened.
She is beginning to trust me.
His heart galloped. In an attempt to calm himself, he cleared his throat. She glanced up at him, wide-eyed, waiting for him to speak.
“I ken that ye daenae want to talk about the dream,” he said, “but it might do ye good.”
“How so?”
“When I was a boy,” he found himself saying, “and I had nightmares, me nurse would always have me tell it to her. I never understood why, but one day she told me that saying a thing aloud does something to it. It changes the word. For example, speaking a reality aloud makes it more true. If ye lose someone ye love, people sometimes avoid saying that they are dead because the word carries weight and anguish. When it comes to dreams, nightmares, and fears, saying them aloud strips them of their power.”
She tilted her head, eyeing him thoughtfully. “Did it work?”
“It did. I would tell her me nightmares, and when I spoke them aloud, they would somehow seem smaller. Sillier. More ridiculous. We’d often be laughing by the end of it.”
“And if ye werenae laughing?”
He shrugged. “Then she’d help me untangle the dream.”
Skye watched him for a moment, her eyes half-narrowed. At last, she let out a small sigh and inclined her head. “All right, I’ll tell ye.”
She began to speak, relaying the details of her dream. He listened carefully.
“… and that’s all I can remember of it,” she finished.
Evander was quiet for a moment after she’d finished speaking. He sat in a chair, stretching out his legs in front of him.
Skye paced the floor in front of him, her gaze fixed on nothing in particular. When he met her eyes, she didn’t seem to see him—or anything, really. He wondered where her mind was going. Dwelling on her dream, no doubt.
The events in her dream married up with his memory.
Hunter walking her down the aisle, his face pinched as though he were anxious.
He had been pleased about the match on a political level, but it was clear he had reservations.
What brother would want his sister to marry a man she claimed not to love?
If Evander closed his eyes, he could still see the Great Hall at Keep Bryden, decorated for the wedding.
He could see the musicians poised to play, and the crowd gathered around the dance floor, shuffling and whispering.
He could see how people kept glancing surreptitiously at the door and could imagine what they were murmuring to each other.
Where’s the bride?
She’s been gone for a while.
Do ye reckon everything is all right with her?
Maybe she isnae coming down at all.
He could still feel the sting of humiliation, then anger, then the slow edging-in of fear when he had begun to understand that something had gone wrong.
Enough, he chastised himself. She’s back now.
Skye paused in her pacing, throwing an expectant look at him.
“Well?” she prompted. “What do ye think? That’s every detail of me dream. Is there anything else?”
He shook his head slowly. “We didnae spend much time together on our wedding day, if ye can believe it. Yer recollections will differ from mine.”
She seemed to deflate, her shoulders sinking, and bit down on her lip.
“I just cannae remember,” she whispered. “I rack me brains all the time, but nothing falls out.”
“Ye cannae rush these things. I ken it is hard, but ye must wait. Memories will return when ye least expect it, hen.”
She threw him a wry look. “Ye are very logical. I am grateful.”
“So…” He crossed one ankle over the other. “What more do ye need from me?”
She raked a hand through her hair. It hung loose over her shoulders and looked as though it had been brushed. Janie must have had the good sense to lay out a hairbrush along with the nightdress.
Stop looking at the nightdress. The thin, translucent nightdress.
“Me head aches,” she murmured. “Me heart pounds, and I… I’m looking for danger in every corner. That dream has only confused things more for me. Who took me, Evander? And why? If they wanted me gone, why nae kill me? Why… Why keep me for a year? And how long do I have before they take me again?”
Abruptly, he got to his feet, striding over to where she stood. She stared up at him, her eyes huge and almost pleading. She didn’t back away or flinch or even blink.
Swallowing, Evander wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He pulled her toward him, testing the waters. She went limp in his arms, sagging against his chest.
Her warm weight pushed against him, her cheek resting just over his heart. He could smell the roses and lavender from the bath in her hair. Her eyes fluttered shut.
Silently, he tightened his grip, flattening his palm against her back. The nubs of her spine pushed against his hand, and he resisted the urge to click his tongue in disapproval. She’d lost some weight, then. Whoever had been tending to her over the past year hadn’t fed her enough.
That thought sparked a curdling fire of fury inside him.
How dare they? How dare they?
Shifting, she rested more of her weight against him, her arms tentatively coming up to curl around his waist. She let out a slow, ragged sigh.
“It’s all right, lass,” Evander whispered, rubbing slow circles between her shoulder blades with the heel of his hand.
“I’m here. Ye are safe, do ye hear me? Ye are safe.
Whoever took ye, they’ll nae take ye again.
I wasnae prepared before. I left ye alone, and I hadnae thought of the danger.
Well, no more. No detail will escape me.
No would-be kidnapper will slip past, do ye understand? Do ye understand, lass?”
“Aye, I do,” she responded, her voice low and tired.
Silence enveloped them both. It might have lasted only a few minutes. Evander could have let it stretch out all night. Skye was the one who moved first, clearing her throat.
“This feels… familiar.”
“Familiar?” he echoed.
“Aye. Have we done this before? Hugged, I mean,” she added hastily.
He pressed his lips together. “We havenae.”
“Nae even once?”
“Barely more than a handshake.”
She shifted again. He thought he could feel her frown, her face contorting against him.
“So, me dream was real, then. I was taken on me wedding night.”
“That’s true enough, but nothing would have happened in any case. We’d already agreed on that. As ye ken, ours was to be a political match.”
He expected that would be it. The conversation was finished. She’d be relieved, surely? Pleased, but would take care not to show it.
When she pulled away from him, frowning up, he found himself taken aback, missing a beat.
“Nae even a kiss?” she queried.
He blinked at her. “Nay. Of course nae.”
“There’s no of course about it. Did ye nae even kiss me at the handfasting?”
What a strange way to put it. Asking me why I didnae kiss her. Why should I have been the one to do the kissing? She’s got a pair of lips, too.
The answer sprang easily to his lips.
Do ye think I didnae want to kiss ye, lass?
He didn’t say that, of course. Instead, he snorted, shaking his head. “Nay. Nae so much as a peck. And may I remind ye how often ye have told me that ye hate me? Men daenae often want to kiss a woman who declares she despises them.”
Skye pursed her lips, absorbing this new information. “Aye, but that’s different.”
“How is it different?”
“I claimed to hate ye, nae the other way round,” she insisted.
“Did ye truly nae want to kiss me? Did ye nae want to… to consummate the marriage? Leaving a marriage unconsummated could have left the way open for an annulment. That would put the whole union in danger, to say nothing of the treaty our marriage rested upon.”
“Ye sound rather keen.”
“Nae keen!” she yelped, her eyes widening. “Just curious.”
“Nae keen, just curious,” he repeated thoughtfully. “Interestingly put.”
She stared up at him, that clear, steady gaze of hers remaining unreadable.
What did she see in his eyes? Whatever it was, she didn’t seem inclined to look away. She only stared straight at him, undeterred and unafraid.
That’s the selfsame gaze that caught me all those months ago, at the last Leanan Festival, he thought wearily, shaking his head. I looked over at her and couldnae look away.
But that was then. Thinking about the past did nobody any good. Where a person had been was only of interest when it came to forging a path forward.
He only became aware that he was staring when she gave an annoyed huff, stepping back and folding her arms across her chest.
“I wish ye wouldnae stare at me like that,” she muttered. “Ye just look, as though yer eyes are boring right through me head and out the other side. It’s unsettling.”
“I daenae think that ye can bandy words like unsettling around,” he snorted. “Ye are the most direct, fearless young woman me poor keep had ever encountered. Within a week, things were being done yer way.”
She blinked. “Was I really like that?”
“Well, aye. Why, do ye nae recall?” he added teasingly, cocking his head. “I daenae remember ye mentioning that.”
She gave a wan smile, shaking her head. “It feels as though I am making it up.”
“I ken that ye arenae, lass.”
“I ken, I ken. I only recall what I said to ye. The dream. Even though I feel like I should remember more. But,” she added, lifting her head, “I do fancy meself as a proper Lady Bryden. I think I would have done well, managing a keep.”
Evander felt a smile tugging at his lips.
“Aye, ye could speak for yerself. And so when ye told me that ye didnae wish to consummate the marriage, I respected that.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What, a laird like yerself hesitated to exercise his marital rights? I find that hard to believe. I’ll nae lie.”