Chapter 13
The moment had been entirely innocent. Nothing more to it for either her or Stephen, as far as she was concerned.
Stephen had spent most of the time talking about Lily and Dougal. According to him, Dougal was an excellent father.
“Ye ken, he doesnae let just anyone near her.”
She glanced over at Lily, who was giggling up a storm. “Lily?”
“Aye,” Stephen said, nodding towards Dougal. “Tutors come and go. Servants keep their distance, mostly by his order. But he watches ye with her differently than he does the rest. Less like a protective faither and more with relief.”
She sighed. “I only wanted her to have a proper day.”
“I ken.” Stephen grinned. “He’d walk through fire for that lass. Always has since the day he brought her home. Never seen a man so gentle with anything as he is with her.”
“He hides it well.”
“Aye, he does, but it’s there as plain as day, lass. If ye ken how to look, and ye clearly do.”
Skye said nothing, her cheeks warming. She turned back to watch as Lily’s laughter filled the yard, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Dougal.
The entire day had been about Lily, but Skye kept thinking about Dougal, from their talk after he had called her over to his promise that he would speak to her later. She had wandered back to Lily and Kenna, who kept asking if she was all right.
“Are ye sure?” Lily asked, concerned. “Ye are all red!”
That only made Skye blush harder.
“Aye, I am fine, Lily.”
Kenna smiled knowingly. “I promise Skye is fine, Lily.”
It seemed to satisfy the little girl, and she dropped it. Skye had ducked her head, trying to avoid Kenna’s gaze.
Dougal was gone for nearly an hour after his brief talk with Stephen, heading inside likely to his study. When he returned outside, his cool gaze immediately found hers. The glare vanished from his face, but there was an unreadable look in his eyes.
Later. Dougal had promised they would talk later.
She almost trembled with anticipation.
There had been a promise of something when he spoke. She wasn’t sure what she would find when they spoke, but she wanted to see. That much she couldn’t deny.
With Dougal, there was always this curiosity he brought out in her. Skye had always been curious, never particularly brave. Not until now, at least. Not until she had started writing.
Time passed slowly.
Skye had been at the wall for the better part of an hour, waiting in the attic for him near the one, large window. She knew them by now, the weight of his strides, unhurried even when the matter was important.
Her heart started pounding so hard that she feared he would hear it the second he stepped into the room. She gently cupped a hand to her cheek, finding warmth there.
It was as if a fever had taken hold of her body, but it was no fever she had ever experienced before. The only cure for this was something she did not quite understand, but Dougal had something to do with it.
She didn’t turn when the door opened. Better not, she’d decided somewhere between the treasure hunt and now. If she looked at him too soon, she would lose whatever careful resolve she’d spent the evening building.
She felt uneasy about this talk. She did not know what would come of it. The memory of the way he had touched her so intimately flashed through her mind, threatening to undo her right where she stood.
Dougal was able to unravel her with a single look. He always had from the moment she had followed him out to her brother’s garden and admitted that it was she who was writing the stories about him.
Did he understand the effect he had on her?
Her cheeks burned, the feverish feeling returning. She was becoming accustomed to it now, and she hated it.
Before Dougal, Skye had never experienced this. Now it was constant, gnawing at her nerves in a way she didn’t understand.
“Ye said ye would meet me tonight,” Dougal stated, his eyes boring into hers. “Did ye forget?”
Skye couldn’t hold back the shiver that ran down her spine, even if she tried.
“Nay, I didnae forget. I said I would, and here I am.” She kept her eyes on the flames, though every part of her ached to look at him. “I just didnae say when.”
Something flashed in his eyes.
Skye wanted to push. She wanted to see how far she could go. Maybe Dougal wanted the same thing.
His face was impossible to read, and not just the part covered by the mask. There was a second mask he had worn so long beneath the physical one that she wondered if he even knew how to take it off.
“I didnae realize a time had to be specified.”
“It must,” she insisted.
She was playing with fire, but she wasn’t about to stop now.
He had asked her to meet him, yes, but he had not said when.
It was he who had insisted on this meeting after pulling her aside and expressing his jealousy.
He denied it, but she knew enough when a man was jealous.
She had seen it when her brother was courting Emily.
It had been a sight to behold, for her once-quiet brother had turned into someone she did not recognize. Freya had assured her that it was normal, but Skye had never experienced it before.
“Now would suit me.”
Of course it would. Everything suited Dougal the moment he decided it should, and the rest of the world was expected to fall into step.
Skye had watched him all day, brooding by the yard’s edge, and she’d felt his eyes on her the whole time, heavy and unmistakable even from a distance. It had done something foolish to her pulse, watching him watch her, knowing exactly why.
But then it hit Skye that Dougal shouldn’t be the one to dictate when they did and didn’t speak. She was going to make it clear that now didn’t suit her. He would have to wait and see when she was ready to speak.
That was fair enough, since he was the one to spring this talk on her.
“Now doesnae suit me.” She finally lifted her eyes to his and immediately regretted it.
The firelight caught the sharp line of his jaw, the intensity banked behind his gaze, and her resolve wavered dangerously.
She held it together by sheer will. “I’m flushed and out of sorts, and I daenae trust meself to speak plainly with ye while I’m like this. ”
It was the truth, more of it than she meant to give him. She could still feel the ghost of his hands from two nights past, still feel the way her whole body had gone traitorous and pliant beneath his touch.
She wasn’t about to hand him another victory so easily, not when he’d all but ordered her here like she was a hound to be called. Then there was earlier that day when he had beckoned her to him, interrupting her conversation with Stephen.
She had made him jealous. And a part of her liked it.
She liked that she had some effect on him. It always seemed to be Dougal who was affecting her, keeping her on edge and making her walk around the castle with a near-permanent rosy hue on her pale cheeks.
But this time, perhaps for the first time since they had met, she had the upper hand.
“Skye,” he almost growled in frustration, but she wasn’t going to let him continue speaking before she had said her piece.
“I’ll come to ye when I’m ready,” she said, cutting him off before he could talk his way past her defenses the way he always seemed to manage. “Nae when ye command it. I hope ye can understand that.”
Dougal’s jaw tightened. “I wasnae commanding anything.”
She almost laughed. Almost.
Did he truly not think he was commanding? He was always doing so. Even Lily would agree to it, whether she truly understood what was being asked of her or not.
“Ye were. Ye always are, even when ye think ye’re asking nicely,” Skye didn’t hesitate to point out. He needed to hear the truth.
He opened his mouth, and for one unsteady moment, she thought he might argue, might reach for her the way he had by the stable wall. Some small, reckless part of her hoped he would.
But he only stood there, his jaw working, saying nothing at all. His silence felt almost more dangerous than words would have been.
She moved away from the window where she had been standing before she could change her mind, smoothing her skirts, refusing to let her hands shake where he could see. “Goodnight, Dougal.”
She didn’t wait for a reply. She swept past him toward the stairs, her heart hammering the entire way traitorously, and did not allow herself to look back to see whether he watched her go.
She already knew the answer. She could feel it between her shoulder blades the whole length of the corridor.
It was surprising that he didn’t reach out, grab her arm, and stop her in her tracks.
Had she dared look over her shoulder, her resolve, which she had built up, would crumble before her. It wasn’t until she reached the top of the stairs that she allowed herself to breathe properly, one hand pressed against the cool stone wall.
How foolish was she to be shaken up by a simple goodnight and brief encounter such as that?
Shaking her head, Skye continued up to her rooms and didn’t stop until she was finally in her quarters. She closed the door, pressing her back against the wood.
She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, listening for footsteps down the corridor. But she didn’t hear anything except for the faint sounds of night settling over the Highlands.
Tonight, Dougal had decided not to go after her. Skye wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.