Chapter 21
The days blurred together in a way Skye hadn’t expected. She found herself waking earlier, dressing more quickly, always with half a thought toward finding Lily before the girl went looking for her first.
Lily was precious. Skye was starting to see why Dougal was so protective of the girl, but a part of her hated how she wasn’t able to explore more of the castle grounds.
She decided to try her luck today, pleading her case to Dougal, her voice reaching levels of frustration she did not think herself capable of. Just when she thought he would tell her no and demand she leave, he laughed.
“All right, lass. Ye can take her out to the gardens, provided a guard goes with ye.”
“I accept,” she declared, lifting her chin in defiance.
“Skye! Skye, come quick!” Lily’s voice carried down the corridor that morning, breathless with excitement. “Blossom caught a moth. A whole moth, all by herself!”
Skye’s attention was wrenched away from Dougal and back to the precious girl she was growing very fond of.
“Did she now?” She let herself be dragged along by the small hand in hers. “And what did Blossom do with the moth once she’d caught it?”
“She let it go,” Lily said this with great seriousness, as though reporting a decision of considerable diplomatic weight. “I told her she should. Moths daenae do any harm. They arenae pretty like butterflies, but they cannae hurt her.”
Skye smiled sweetly. “That was very kind of her.”
“Aye, she’s a kind kitten. Mostly.” Lily considered this. “Except when she scratches. Then she’s nae very kind at all. But she only scratches whenever I pet her too much or poke her belly.”
Skye laughed, and Lily beamed up at her, clearly pleased with herself.
It was impossible to be in a dark mood when Lily was around. Even when she and Dougal were at odds, spending time with Lily always managed to lift her spirits.
They spent the better part of the morning in the gardens, Lily narrating an elaborate story about the goat’s supposed rivalry with a family of hedgehogs that lived beneath the hedge. The tale grew more fantastical with every retelling.
Skye was beginning to think that Lily might grow to be a brilliant writer if her gift for storytelling was nurtured properly.
“And then the goat said…” Lily paused. “Goats cannae talk, can they?”
“I daenae believe so, sweetling. But it’s yer story, so we can pretend the goat talks.”
“Pity. He’d have a great deal to say, I think.” Lily flopped down onto the grass, unconcerned with the state of her skirts. “Skye, will ye braid flowers into me hair? Grandmaither kens how, but she’s busy with her needlework today, and she complains that her hands shake too much.”
“I can try, but I cannae promise it’ll be as fine as yer grandmaither’s work,” Skye warned.
“I daenae mind. I only want the flowers.”
Lily sat very still while Skye worked. She had come to recognize that stillness as the girl’s version of deep concentration.
“Skye?”
“Aye?”
Lily lowered her gaze. She rarely looked uncomfortable, so Skye’s hackles rose immediately.
“Do ye think Da kens how happy I am? I daenae want him to think I’m nae grateful for everything.”
Skye’s chest tightened. “I think yer da kens exactly how happy ye are, Lily. He watches ye more than ye realize.”
There was no chance Dougal thought his daughter was ungrateful. Skye wondered what Lily heard when no one thought she was there. People thought children didn’t listen, but one would be surprised by what they heard when adults weren’t paying close enough attention.
“He does worry an awful lot,” Lily murmured.
“Because he loves ye an awful lot.”
Lily seemed to accept that, tilting her head to allow another flower to be tucked behind her ear. “Freya and Kaden love ye a lot too, I think. Ye talk about them like ye miss them.”
“I do miss them.”
“Will ye miss us when ye leave?”
The question landed soft and unguarded, the way children’s questions always seemed to, without any sense of how heavy they might be to answer.
Skye was struck by how reluctant she was to leave. Just a few days ago, she and Dougal had been at odds, and she had been itching to go back home, where she would be surrounded by family and everything she needed.
But now? Now she did not want to leave. She balked at the very idea of leaving, to her shock. It wasn’t just about leaving Lily, but also Dougal.
That wasn’t something she was willing to think about right now.
“Aye,” she said, before she could think better of it. “I think I will miss ye something fierce, Lily.”
Lily twisted around to look at her properly, flowers falling loose from her half-finished braid. “Then daenae leave. Ye can stay here since ye already have a room. And yer sister and braither can visit whenever they want. I daenae think Da will mind.”
“It isnae so simple as that, sweetling.”
Children viewed the world so simply. Skye yearned for the days when she could do such a thing. It was not so simple when one saw the world through adult eyes.
“Everything’s simple if ye want it to be.
Grandmaither says so,” Lily said with the absolute conviction only a seven-year-old could summon, then promptly dropped the subject.
“Can we find the hedgehogs now? I want to introduce them to Blossom properly, so there’s no more talk of rivalry. She might even make some friends.”
Skye let herself be pulled to her feet, grateful for the distraction.
However, Lily’s question lingered long after the girl had gone chasing after her kitten through the hedges, refusing to be shaken loose no matter how much she tried to busy her hands and thoughts.
The end of the month was coming soon. She was going to have to decide once and for all what she was going to do. She had thought it would be an easy decision, but as it turned out, it was going to be very difficult.
They ventured no farther than the gardens that day. As the sun set, Skye coaxed the girl inside with the promise of raiding the kitchens for sweets and sneaking her some later tonight.
Then she saw Dougal.
He was watching from the training yard, seeming to take note of her every move, his gaze darkening every time it fell on her. She could see a hint of hunger in his eyes, which seemed to penetrate her very soul.
She often dreamed of his hands on her. But the dreams that had her waking up hot and bothered were the ones where his lips descended on hers.
Many times, she would imagine him kissing her, unraveling her inch by inch.
She’d wake up with her lips tingling and bruised from her teeth sinking into them to muffle her cries.
She forced herself to look away first, though her pulse hadn’t steadied by the time she turned back to Lily’s chatter. She knew it was foolish to let a man’s stare undo her so thoroughly in the middle of a yard, but some traitorous part of her hoped he was still watching, even now.
She busied her hands with Lily’s ribbons, grateful for the distraction, though she could still feel the weight of his gaze on her, patient and unhurried, the way he always seemed to watch her when he thought she did not notice.
“Skye, are ye all right? Ye are blushing!”
She resisted the urge to duck her head. “I’m all right, Lily. It’s just the heat of the sun. Why daenae we go inside?”
The little girl giggled and took her hand. “I daenae think it’s the sun, though. Ye look the way Grandmaither looks when she talks about Grandda,” she said matter-of-factly, swinging their joined hands as they walked. “All soft and silly.”
“I daenae look silly.”
“Ye do. Yer cheeks are as red as Blossom’s ribbon.” She peered up at her, far too knowing for a girl of seven. “Were ye looking at Da?”
The more Lily pointed out her blush, the darker it became. Skye couldn’t very well look away from her, or else the girl might think she had done something wrong.
“I was looking at nothing in particular.”
“That’s what grown-ups say when it means aye,” Lily announced solemnly, echoing words Skye had once spoken to her. “Da does it too, ye ken. Looks at ye and then pretends he wasnae.”
Skye’s steps faltered slightly. “Does he now?”
“All the time.” Lily beamed up at her, delighted with her own cleverness. “Perhaps the two of ye should just say it plainly. Grandmaither says grown-ups make everything so complicated.”
Kenna had said as much to Skye.
She had many things she wanted to say to Dougal, but she wasn’t sure how to say them. It was easier to look from afar, becoming lost in her own thoughts.
“Yer grandmaither,” Skye said, “is far too wise for her own good.”
Lily only laughed, tugging her toward the doors, and Skye let herself be pulled along, grateful the girl couldn’t see just how right she was.
Skye had managed to control her blush until dinner. She was the first to arrive after Dougal.
“Lily seemed to enjoy herself today.”
She bit back a sigh of relief. Lily was a safe topic. She didn’t have to dig deep when speaking about her.
“She is,” she said with a soft smile. “Allowing her out in the gardens didnae cause any harm now, did it?”
Dougal sighed. “Do ye enjoy pushing me, Skye?”
Her heart leaped into her throat. “I…”
“I think ye want to be punished again,” he murmured, backing her up against the wall.
A delicious shiver ran down her spine. She wanted to see what he would do. Wanted?—
“Da!” Lily called out.
They sprang apart just as she entered, her hand loosely wrapped around Kenna’s.
“Skye, ye’re blushing again!”
Dougal covered a chuckle with a cough. “Aye, why are ye blushing, Skye? Do ye have a fever?”
“I think we need to find a healer, Da!”
“I think so too, Lily.”
Kenna sighed. “Let’s keep the teasing to a minimum, aye? Poor Lily here is starving.”
Lily nodded. “Aye, I am! I havenae eaten since I stole some sweets from the kitchens!”
“Aye, let’s eat.”
Skye was grateful for the distraction, but she couldn’t calm her racing heart.
Every time she looked up from her meal and locked eyes with Dougal, she remembered the way he had pressed her against the wall, his body hard against hers, his breath hot against her ear.
She pushed her food around her plate, painfully aware of every look he sent her way.
Lily chattered about the goat’s latest mischief—they still hadn’t thought of a proper name for him—and Kenna laughed at the appropriate times. Skye merely nodded along. If she were asked about what Lily had spoken about, she didn’t think she would be able to answer.
It was certainly going to be a long meal.