Chapter 4 #2
“But ye need to be careful,” she warned. “Ye daenae ken what ye are getting yerself into.”
Skye hated that Emily was right, but she was. She wasn’t sure what she was getting herself into, but something was pulling her towards Dougal.
And she needed to get the rest of the story. He wouldn’t tell her a thing unless she agreed to be with him for a month.
It is only a month. I can do that.
Certainly, she could spend a month away from her home to get the answers she sought. When she returned home, she would have her story finished and her heart entirely intact.
She repeated the last part to herself twice more, just to be certain that she believed it to be true.
“Let us return,” Emily said, pulling her back towards the crowd. “Remember, ye?—”
“—must tell Freya,” Skye finished for her. “I ken, and I will tomorrow.”
Emily sighed but didn’t push.
Skye would tell her sister tomorrow. Freya was bound to find out anyway.
Skye dismissed her maid early that night, wanting a moment alone to settle her thoughts before sleep claimed her.
She unpinned her hair first, letting the dark waves fall loose down her back.
Then she unlaced her gown, stepped out of it, and hung it carefully rather than leaving it crumpled for morning.
In its place, she pulled on a wool shift, soft from years of washing.
She sat at the end of her bed longer than she meant to, staring at the unfinished page on her writing desk, the candle burning low beside it.
It had been a week since she had tried to write more, but she had gotten only a paragraph in before she realized she had no idea what to write.
The story would forever remain unfinished unless she managed to get the rest of it from Dougal. For the sake of her craft and her readers, she had to see this through.
She lay back against the pillows, pulling the blankets to her chin and letting herself think of those ice-blue eyes and that tall, muscular frame. His long, tousled dark hair did little to hide his strong jaw and broad shoulders. The light stubble on his face added to his appeal.
She didn’t fear the mask. She found it mysterious. She did not want to find out what was underneath, but learn more about what had really happened. There was more to the story. She knew it.
Sleep did not come easily to her that night. She dreamed of the two of them standing there under the tree.
In the dream, he didn’t pull back the way he had that day. He closed the last distance between them instead, one hand cradling her jaw, tilted her face up to his, and kissed her like he’d been waiting far longer than the few hours they’d actually known each other.
It wasn’t gentle. There was nothing careful about the way his mouth moved against hers, demanding rather than asking, like he’d decided the rules she’d set didn’t apply to whatever this was.
She felt the rough edge of his mask brush her cheek, the heat of him pressing her back against the bark of the tree, and she didn’t pull away. She didn’t even think to, her hands fisting in the front of his shirt instead, pulling him closer rather than pushing him away.
He murmured something against her mouth, words she couldn’t understand. But before she could ask him to repeat them, he kissed her deeper, like he meant to memorize the shape of her mouth before the night ended.
She woke up gasping, her heart pounding hard against her ribs. There was a tingling between her legs, one she dared not think about or seek out.
The next morning, Skye picked at her bread while Emily grinned over her own plate and Freya watched her with open suspicion.
Skye tried to avoid her sister’s gaze, but it was difficult when Freya’s eyes followed her wherever she went.
Freya was stubborn, refusing to let go of what she had just found out. She had been furious, as Skye had expected. Emily had been there when Skye told her the truth, doing her best to calm her. It was a miracle Freya had not started shouting at the top of her lungs.
“Ye look as though ye didnae sleep,” Freya noted, but Skye was able to read between the lines.
“I slept fine.”
She hadn’t slept at all. After that dream, she had tried, but more dreams kept coming. Giving up on sleep was the only way to stop herself from feeling… certain things. It was safer that way.
Freya frowned. “Do ye think I daenae ken when me own sister is lying to me?”
“I am nae lying,” Skye whispered.
“Skye, ye are a terrible liar. When will ye learn?”
“Do ye truly think him a monster?” Skye asked instead, ignoring the question. “That he killed his betrothed?”
She didn’t want to hear from her sister how she was a terrible liar. She wanted to forget that this conversation was even happening. All she wanted was to move forward with her plan. It was a month—one simple month out of her life.
If Dougal kept true to his word, he would come by this morning.
Unless he did not.
Skye mulled over the possibility, but she wasn’t sure if she would be relieved or disappointed if he didn’t make good on his promise to speak with her brother.
It would certainly make her life easier. There would be no blackmail, and her reputation would remain intact, but it was a difficult thing to swallow if she could never have the ending to her story.
“Even if he isnae,” Freya said carefully, “that doesnae mean a man like him willnae break yer heart.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” a deep voice called from behind them.
All three of them froze.
“Excuse me?” Freya asked, casting a cold look over her shoulder at Dougal, who had appeared behind her.
“Where’s yer braither?”
Skye’s cheeks heated the instant she met his gaze across the room. She lowered her eyes before Freya could look at her, hoping her hair covered her burning cheeks.
“Yer braither?” Dougal prompted.
“He’s in his study,” Emily offered helpfully, sounding far too pleased with herself.
Dougal nodded once, the barest acknowledgment, and turned to leave without another word, though Skye could have sworn his eyes lingered on her a half-second longer than they needed to.
Freya waited until he was out of earshot. “Well, now I understand why ye didnae sleep.”
“It isnae what ye think.”
“It’s exactly what I think.” Her voice softened. “Just guard yer heart, Skye. Even if he’s nae the monster they say he is.”
“I will.”
“Ye willnae,” Emily said cheerfully, stealing the last of Skye’s bread. “And I’ll be here to say I told ye so when it happens.”
Skye sighed. “It will be fine.”
“Ye say that but daenae ken if it will be,” Freya warned.
“Does that mean ye approve?” Skye asked hopefully.
Her sister could tell their brother the truth, ruining her plans before they had a chance to come to fruition. Emily had promised she would keep it to herself, but Freya was something else entirely.
“Nay, I daenae approve.”
Skye’s shoulders slumped, but Emily spoke up to save the day.
“Will ye keep it secret, Freya?” she asked.
Freya gazed at Emily, her gaze hardening. “Aye, I will keep it secret for now. But if anything happens, our braither needs to ken, Skye. Do ye understand?”
Skye nodded. “Aye, I understand.”
Emily clapped her hands together. “Then it’s settled! No one will breathe a word of this.”
“For now,” Freya reminded her. “It depends on that man.”