Chapter 27
I probably shouldnae have taken him to me room.
Too late for that now. Wordlessly, Evander stepped over the threshold after her, and she silently closed the door.
More silence fell over them. The crackling of the fire seemed deafening.
They turned to face each other. Evander’s arms still hung by his sides as they had before, his expression calm and almost neutral.
Is his heart hammering in his chest like mine?
Nay, nay, surely nae.
Swallowing, Skye turned away.
“Would ye like some wine? Bread? Cheese? I can ask the servants to bring something else if ye are hungry. There’s some pie, I think, and probably some cold meat.”
“I’m nae hungry.”
She frowned. “Ye must be, if ye rode hard to get here.”
He said nothing.
Her gaze dropped to his chest, and her jaw tightened. “Ye had better get that looked at. I’ll send for a healer.”
“I daenae want a healer.”
She rolled her eyes. “Nay, ye want to talk, although ye arenae very chatty right now, are ye? I’m calling for a healer.”
“I willnae let her touch me.”
She folded her arms tightly over her chest. “Fine. Then will ye at least let me see to it?”
He paused, considering. “Aye, I suppose so.”
Men.
Skye stamped over to one of her trunks, opening the lid and rummaging inside. Sure enough, there was some gauze and bandages, as well as a little green paste that would clean a wound and prevent infection. There was a clean scrap of rag that would suit for wiping away the blood.
“Ye will have to take off yer shirt,” she said over her shoulder, her skin prickling.
Should’ve called for the healer anyway.
He voiced no objection.
She heard the damp rustle of fabric, the sound fairy-soft in the silence. When she glanced over her shoulder at last, Evander stood bare-chested, clutching his damp shirt in one hand.
Her mouth went dry once more. A knot of warmth bloomed in her stomach, a sensation she hadn’t felt in the slightest over the past week.
Aye, this was a mistake.
Too late to go back now. Despite her best efforts, her gaze fell to his chest, muscled and furred with dark hair. Dampness glistened on his skin, and here and there were small, raised white lines, indicating old scars.
The heat tightened, no matter how she tried to will it away. Clearing her throat, she turned her back once more.
Did he smile just as she turned away? No, surely not. He wouldn’t be so insolent.
Aye, he would.
She poured a little water on the clean rag and moved back to him.
“I’ll use this to clean away the blood,” she explained tightly. “I want to see how bad it is.”
Gingerly, she placed the damp cloth on his skin, just below his shoulder. Warmth seeped out of his body; she could feel it on her wrist. Carefully, so as not to aggravate the wound, she swiped downwards, cleaning away a stripe of half-dried blood.
It occurred to her then that she could simply have asked Evander to use the cloth on himself.
Ye are an idiot, lass, she told herself tiredly. Too late now. It’ll look odd if ye suddenly shove the cloth at him after ye already started helping.
His gaze tickled, fixed on her as she worked. He made no attempt to hide how openly he was watching her.
“I’m sorry about me braither,” she heard herself say. “Hunter can be aggressive when the people he cares for have been hurt.”
“Daenae apologize for him. I would have done worse.”
Her gaze flickered briefly up to him. She set her jaw.
“Aye, I suppose ye would,” she murmured.
Once the blood was cleaned away, she could see that the wound was not so bad.
It was barely larger than the tip of her little finger, and not very deep.
Freshly cleaned, it bled sluggishly, but already scabs were forming at the edge.
It would heal nicely, but doubtless there would be a scar.
Just a small, puckered scar, resting over his heart.
A memento of me, she thought grimly.
She moved to step back, to pick up the gauze, but never quite managed it. His hand shot out, his fingers gently curling around her chin and tilting her face up to his.
Her chest tightened, pupils dilating. Forced to look up at him, her breath stuttered in her throat, and she felt as though she couldn’t quite fill her lungs with enough air.
“What are ye doing?” she managed. She’d intended it as a sharp rebuke, but it came out as a weak, panicked yelp.
“I want ye to look at me,” he breathed.
His eyes were dark, so dark, and the dancing firelight cast shapes and shadows over his damp skin.
She yanked her chin free. He made no attempt to hold her in place, allowing her to totter back a few steps. The imprint of his fingers still burned into her skin, although she knew without looking in a mirror that there’d be no bruises, no red marks, no sign at all that he’d ever touched her.
“What are ye doing here?” she burst out. “What do ye want? Are ye here with the annulment?”
“I havenae annulled our marriage.”
She growled. “Ye said that ye would.”
“I ken what I said.”
“Why have ye nae done it yet? Are ye going to?”
“Nay,” he responded simply.
She drew in a breath, steeling herself. “I daenae understand ye. I daenae understand ye one bit, Evander. Why are ye here?”
Once again, he ignored her question and took a single step forward, closing the space between them.
The sensible thing, of course, would be for Skye to retreat and perhaps call for a servant. She could ask for Evander to be thrown out of the keep after all. Hunter would be pleased enough to make that happen.
Instead, she stood stock-still, watching him, her heart fluttering like a bird in a cage.
“I didnae annul our marriage because I daenae want our marriage to be over,” Evander confessed.
“Ye said—”
“I ken what I said. I thought that… that it would make ye happy.”
She flinched. “Why on earth would ye think that? I told ye again and again that it was nae what I wanted. Did ye think that ye kent better than me? Did ye think that ye understood me happiness more than I did?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, and his gaze slid down and away from hers.
“Aye,” he murmured. “I suppose I must have.”
She closed her eyes briefly.
Calm. Stay calm. Ye are the one who foolishly took him to yer room and then offered to attend to his wound, for God’s sake. Ye brought this upon yerself.
Surely one of the servants will be along shortly.
Yes, that was an interesting point. Where were the servants? Where was her mother, or Hunter? Why hadn’t someone come to join them?
A niggling voice at the back of her head supplied the possibility that perhaps her mother was keeping them back, up to her incessant matchmaking ways, but she dismissed that possibility. Surely even her mother wouldn’t be quite so determined.
“Why daenae ye want our marriage annulled?” she forced herself to ask. “I want a proper answer, Evander. Ye owe me that at least.”
“I was going to,” he murmured, shaking his head.
“I meant to, truly. But I… I couldnae do it. The truth is, Skye, I want ye to come back. I thought that if I sent ye away, things would go back to normal. I thought that I would get back me tranquility. I thought that ye would have a better opportunity at an ordinary life. I thought we’d both be happier. ”
“Well,” Skye managed, her voice cracking, “I’m nae.”
“Nor am I. I daenae want to live without ye. That’s the long and short of it. I just… I just want ye to come back, Skye. That’s what I came here to say. Will ye come home? Please?”
He wants me to come home.
Blood pounded in her ears. She blinked, rocking back on her heels.
Had she misheard? Was this some elaborate, realistic dream?
Perhaps she’d wake up in a minute, tangled in her own bed mere feet away.
She’d find her room empty, the fire having died down, leaving the space cold.
The wind and rain would be drumming against the window, and there’d be no sign of Evander.
All a dream.
She closed her eyes tightly and opened them again, trying to figure out once and for all if she was awake or not. After a moment, she lifted her hand to the opposite arm and dug her nails into the flesh of her bicep.
Ouch. Definitely nae a dream, then.
“Ye told me to leave, Evander,” she rasped. “Ye sent me away.”
“I ken. I admit it. And I’m sorry.”
Fury bubbled in her gut.
“Sorry? Sorry? Ye think ye can make up for all of this with a wee apology?”
Evander blinked, a little taken aback by her anger. “Skye, I am trying to be honest with ye. I—”
“Nay, nay, ye arenae. Ye are trying to be forgiven. Ye have been driving me mad since I returned. Think of how I felt, eh? There I was, terrified, confused, uncertain of who I was. I barely slept because I thought I was in danger. I was afraid that I would wake up to find that bloody masked man leaning over me!”
There was a brief silence.
Evander cleared his throat. “Ye daenae usually swear, Skye.”
She seized a glass paperweight, holding it over her head. “I daenae usually throw things at me guests, either,” she hissed. “But I am this close to lobbing it at yer head.”
Evander took a step back, holding up his hands. “I have done ye wrong, I ken that.”
“I cared so much about ye. Ye made me feel like the most beautiful, desirable woman in the world. Ye made me feel like ye wanted me. And just like that”—she clicked her fingers—“ye changed. Ye shuffled me away. Sent me out of yer room and yer home. It drove me mad, Evander. And now that I am home, thinking that it’s all finally over, here ye are again, wanting me back.
How can I ever trust ye again? Ye willnae even give me a straight answer.
Why did ye do it, huh? Why did ye do it? ”
There was a long pause.
The paperweight grew too heavy in Skye’s hand, so she set it down with a thunk. She wasn’t really going to throw it at him. He’d probably just dodge, anyway.
“I am the son of a traitor,” Evander whispered.
“I worked so hard to make me clan safe, to restore our reputation. The day I brought ye home from the Leanan Festival was the best moment of me life. I thought that I had done it. We grew closer, and I felt… I felt drawn to ye. Ours was only a marriage of convenience, sure, but it felt like… like something. Like a start. And then ye vanished, and everything I’d worked so hard for vanished too.
I did wonder if it was all somehow me fault, and now I ken it was. ”
Skye chewed on her lower lip. “Ye shouldnae blame yerself.”
“Well, I do. I am a dangerous man to be around. Treacherous blood runs in me veins, and everybody is waiting for me to show it. What sort of life can I offer anyone? So, it made sense to keep ye at arm’s length.
Ye wouldnae have chosen me of yer own accord, after all.
I stepped back. I… I wanted ye to have a good life, with love and safety in it.
That’s what people want, is it nae? Safety. ”
“And love,” Skye whispered. “If I had to pick one, I ken what I’d pick.”
He closed his eyes. “Sometimes a person can only learn a lesson from experience. The truth is that I love ye, Skye. I’ve wanted ye since that first meeting at the Leanan Festival.
I was happy to wait to see what came of our marriage.
But when ye vanished, I… I went mad. I began to think that I truly was cursed.
After all, if a person loses what they love, they fear loving again, daenae they?
I thought I could go on without ye. But I cannae.
So here I am. Let me try again, Skye, please.
Let me show ye that I love ye. I… I cannae promise nae to make mistakes.
I daresay we’ll both make them. But we could make them together, could we nae? What do ye say?”
He loves me. He loves me. He loves me.
The words bounced around in her head, pulsing in time to the beat of her heart. She wanted to laugh, cry, dance, all of it at once. Instead, she stood stock-still, her fists clenched tight in her skirts.
She swallowed, her gaze fixed on his face, and managed to speak in a thin, croaky voice. “Well then, now what?”
Ugh. Pathetic. The man tells ye that he loves ye and cannae live without ye, and ye respond with ‘now what’? Disgusting.
Still, there wasn’t a great deal she could do about that, considering that the words simply would not come. She could only watch him, waiting. Hardly a love confession, but part of her was still convinced that this was a dream.
He opened his eyes, meeting her stare squarely. “Now we start again from the beginning,” he said simply.
“From the beginning?”
Nodding, he drew out a scroll of paper. Setting it down on the table, he unrolled it to reveal that it was blank.
“Our contract,” he stated. “I have a suggestion for the first rule.”
“I’m listening.”
He drew out a rough pencil and began to scribble.
“Rule Number One,” she read aloud, shuffling closer to read over his shoulder. “Give shelter to any animal that needs it.”
“An important note,” he murmured, moving on to the next rule. “Rule Number Two: Dance at least once a week.”
Skye giggled, a smile creeping onto her face. “Ye can say that again. Me feet are itching to dance. How long has it been?”
“Too long for ye, lass.”
She read out the third rule, her smile softening. “Rule Number Three: Have a big, happy family.”
“Now, we may nae be able to control the size of the family,” he conceded. “Maybe we’ll only have one or two children. But their happiness? We can take care of that.”
“I thought ye didnae want children?” she queried.
He bit his lip, his gaze burning into her. “I was afraid that I would become like me faither, and so me children would be like me. Me, and therefore him. But then I met ye, and I stopped living in the past. The beauty of the future is that we can change it, aye?”
A slow smile spread across her face. “Aye.”
“So, what do ye think of that rule?”
“Agreed. Is that it, then?”
“There’s one more rule.”
He wrote more slowly, forming each word with care. Skye watched him write, a lump forming in her throat. He glanced up from where he crouched at the table, meeting her eyes.
“Can ye read what I have written?” he whispered.
She nodded wordlessly, dropping her gaze to the contract.
“Rule Number Four,” she whispered. “Love each other forever.”
The words blurred in front of her eyes, tears pricking. She sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.
Evander rose, taking a step toward her.
“Can ye agree to that?” he whispered, cupping her chin in his warm palm. “It’s the most important rule. Really, it should have been Rule Number One.”
“Oh, I daenae ken,” she sniffled. “Rescuing animals in need is pretty important.”
He leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. “What do ye say, lass? Can ye sign it?”
She nodded wordlessly, letting her hand slide down his arm until she found his fist, curled around the pencil. He let her take it, and she bent down, hastily signing her name at the bottom of the contract. He signed his name directly afterwards.
There. It’s done.
“Now what?” she breathed, straightening up.
He grinned down at her. “Now we consummate our marriage.”