Chapter 14 Wake Up #2
Then it was gone, so quickly that she wasn’t sure she’d glimpsed the expression at all. Struan leaned back, straightening to his full height. He sneered.
“There ye are, ye see?” he said, his voice tight and angry. “Trust no one. Ye all might hate my father, but he’s right about many things, and this is one of them.”
“Struan, I didn’t mean…”
“Forget it,” he interrupted coldly. “I know what ye are, Una, just as clearly as ye know what I am. I have not changed, and nor will ye.”
“What on earth are ye saying? What do ye mean?”
Abruptly, he thrust his face close to hers, nose to nose. They were close enough for a kiss, but Una’s lips were so dry and her mouth so sour-tasting that she couldn’t have kissed if her life had depended upon it.
“I mean,” Struan hissed, “that I am a monster. Once a monster, always a monster. This is not something that ye and yers will ever change yer minds on. I can tell that lately ye have begun to think differently. Well, don’t. It’s a waste of time, and ye will only get hurt.”
She swallowed. “Struan, I thought—”
“Ye thought what? Ye thought because I kissed ye, I care for ye? That because we were intimate, it’s a binding promise? Don’t be a fool, lass. I was manipulating ye. I thought at first that ye would surely see it, but perhaps I overestimated ye.”
He leaned back, seeming to tower above her all of a sudden. Una stared up at him, not quite able to believe what she had heard. Her heart thumped, and a burning lump tightened in her throat.
Worst of all, tears pricked at her eyes.
No! she thought furiously. No, no, no! I will not bawl like a bairn in front of this man.
“That’s not true,” she found herself saying, flatly and coolly. “Ye can lie and play the big man all ye like, but I saw the real ye, Struan. I know I did.”
He flashed her a pitying smile. “I’m sure that ye believe that.
But honestly, lass, it’s high time for ye to wake up, don’t ye think?
Time to stop believing in knights in shiny armor, and fairies, and miracles.
People don’t change, and I haven’t changed.
Perhaps it’s best that ye found out now.
It’ll save ye a wee bit of hurt down the road. ”
He turned as he spoke that final sentence, and Una found herself longing to run after him, to grab his shoulder and spin him around, to make him look at her.
My worst fears are true, she thought, heart hammering.
She felt sick. I was right all along. I ignored my gut feelings.
I ignored the warnings of my friends. I ignored all plain good sense.
And now I’m watching the worst man in the Highlands walk away from me, feeling as though a piece of me has gone with him.
How could I have been so stupid? How did it come to this?
“Goodbye, Una,” Struan called over his shoulder, almost as an afterthought. “I imagine ye will steer clear of me after this. Perhaps it’s for the best, eh? Better late than never to wake up to the truth.”
Una said nothing. She strode away across the field, swerving at the last moment to pick up her bow and arrow. She stared down at the bow, which was made of good, springy yew. A good bow. Not easy to come by.
He held it in his hands. I felt the warmth of the wood when I took it from him.
She curled her fingers around it, as if searching for residual warmth. Then a flare of rage and misery shot through her, so intense she ground her teeth together so hard she thought they might break.
Bringing up her knee in one smooth movement, Una broke the bow over her thigh.
Crack.
The sound echoed. The bow, broken and useless, dangled from her hands, the string slack.
Swallowing back a wave of nausea, Una threw it aside and stormed away. Above her, the clear blue sky had clouded over, turning into a thick, grayish ceiling, threatening rain. The first warning pinpricks came down just as she reached the doorway.
Pausing, Una turned to glance over her shoulder.
The training field was spread out before her on her left, with the courtyard proper on her right.
People did errands there, and there were market days sometimes.
Of course, with the threat of war hanging over the Highlands, the market days had dwindled to nothing.
She could see the distant figure of Struan, striding off towards the high wall of the Keep. He was going towards the outbuilding, she realized, the one with the water butt behind it. The place where they’d kissed and touched each other for the first time.
Moments later, the rain came down in buckets.
People scurried about in the courtyard, running for shelter or making a mad dash for the Keep itself.
Puddles quickly formed on the ground, rainwater rushing between the cobbles and into the gutters.
The field itself would be a mire within minutes, the mud soaking up Una’s broken bow and forgotten arrows.
She found herself staring at Struan’s retreating figure, staring after him until her eyes burned.
She wasn’t sure what she was looking for.
Some reaction to the rain, perhaps? Maybe he’d pull up his collar and hunch his shoulders, making a clumsy little dash for shelter like other people did when they were caught in the rain.
Struan only kept walking, head held high, shoulders squared. He didn’t slip, and he didn’t increase his pace. He just walked and walked, as if he hadn’t even noticed the rain.
At last, Una tore herself away, forcing her feet to carry her safely inside the Keep.
I’ll never think of him again, she promised herself. I’ll never speak to him. I’ll never look at him.
He won’t fool me a second time.