Chapter 32
“Are ye sure that went exactly as planned?” Stephen asked in a hushed tone.
Dougal bit back a growl. “The bastard wasnae supposed to lay a hand on Skye. I wasnae quick enough.”
“Dougal, he didnae get to her because of ye. Ye prevented anything from happening.”
“The point is, he should never have had the chance,” Dougal ground out. “From the moment his confession left his lips, I should have killed him where he stood. I hesitated.”
Stephen placed a hand on his shoulder, only for Dougal to shrug it off. “Dougal, ye did everything ye could. Ye should be proud. Skye is safe, and the person who hurt Lily will never hurt another. Why are ye acting like this?”
“I am going to ask Skye to leave.”
Stephen went still. “What did ye just say? I hope ye arenae serious.”
Dougal shot him a sour look. “When have I ever said things I daenae mean, Stephen? I meant exactly what I just said. Tonight, I’ll ask Skye to leave. It’s for the best.”
“The best for whom exactly?” Stephen snapped. “And daenae tell me ye are doing this for her best interest, because I ken ye too well, Dougal. Ye are doing this for yer own sake and nothing more.”
“I willnae speak of this any further,” Dougal bit out. “I only told ye because ye are me friend and I expect yer support.”
Stephen laughed, a bitter sound that Dougal wasn’t accustomed to hearing from him. “Ye want me to support something I believe is a mistake? If that is the case, then ye daenae ken me at all.”
“Think what ye want, Stephen. I have made me decision and willnae change me mind.”
"Ye will regret this, Dougal," Stephen warned.
"Think on it. No more treasure hunts, no more singing competitions with that daft goat, no more lass teaching Lily selkie stories by the fire.
Just ye, brooding in that study, and a wee girl asking every morning when Skye's coming back, until one day she stops asking at all.
Perhaps ye willnae regret it today, but I promise ye that ye will regret sending her away when all ye want to do is keep her here. "
Dougal turned away, refusing to listen to anything else he had to say. His friend was not wrong, but he had made up his mind.
The fact was that he was a monster. Twice he had killed for Skye, striking down men in front of her without a second thought. She had flinched back in fear one of those times.
How could she love him?
He was not capable of giving her love. If things were different, perhaps he could give her the love she deserved, but it was not possible. Not now.
Stephen fell into step with him. “When yer maither discovers what ye have done, she will be cross with ye.”
“I will deal with me maither.”
“And Lily?”
“She is young,” Dougal reminded him. “Children bounce back from much worse.”
“Aye, Lily is a tough lassie, but do ye really want to break her heart, when ye can prevent it simply by?—”
“Stephen,” Dougal warned, “ye are me friend, so I will give ye one last warning. I willnae speak on this subject anymore. If ye want to speak to me, it will be about the peace treaty we need to finalize and nothing more.”
“Fine.” Stephen’s shoulders dropped in resignation. For what it’s worth, I trust ye ken what ye’re doing, even if I daenae understand it.”
“That’s all I ask.”
Dougal tried to imagine how his mother would react. She was not going to be pleased with his decision to send Skye away. She had made more than one comment about him letting her stay after the month was over. She was convinced they would fall in love and he would come to his senses.
But he was going to do nothing of the sort. He couldn’t allow Skye to stay because he could not give her what she wanted. All he could do was send her back with her sister. In time, she would forget him. Perhaps they could remain friends. Lily would hate to never see Skye again.
But that was neither here nor there. For now, Dougal had to send her away for both of their sakes. It didn’t matter if she cried or pleaded with him to let her stay.
Dougal stood at the window long after the music had faded behind him, watching his own reflection waver in the dark glass, half a man and half a shadow, same as he’d been for seven years.
He had already sent for Skye. He wasn’t certain, even now, what he would say once she arrived.
The knock sounded softer than he had expected. He had to strain his ears to hear it. It seemed Skye was also apprehensive, unsure of what she would find when she walked through the door.
Something twisted in the pit of his stomach, something resembling guilt. He rarely felt guilt. He had felt it only a handful of times, and tonight was one of them.
He was going to break Skye’s heart under the guise of doing what was best for her. She would protest, telling him that she knew what was best, but he wasn’t going to change his mind. Not at all.
“Ye asked to see me.”
He didn’t turn at first. He couldn’t, if he was being honest with himself, not until he had schooled his features into something that wouldn’t give away how badly his chest had tightened at the mere sound of her voice.
“Aye.” His voice came out rougher than he had intended. “I’ve been thinking since I rode home tonight. About the month. About what’s meant to come after it.”
Skye relaxed for only a moment until she saw the expression on the visible part of his face.
She suspected already, which was not a surprise.
The lass had always been perceptive. Perhaps too perceptive, which was how she had managed to get so close to him despite his best efforts to keep her at a distance.
“What about it?” she asked.
She had stayed near the door. He could hear it in her voice, low and cautious, unwilling to close the distance between them until she understood what she was walking into.
Smart lass.
She’d always been smarter than he gave her credit for.
“I think ye should return home sooner than we agreed on. Tomorrow, perhaps, with yer sister, before the roads turn worse with the season,” he said, finally turning around.
Skye tensed, just as he had expected. She blinked rapidly, but there were no tears in her eyes. He didn’t know how he would handle it if she started to cry. A woman's tears always had a way of wrapping around his heart and squeezing it.
“Why?” Her voice was thin, uncertain in a way that cut him more than he cared to admit. “I thought now that everything’s resolved with Angus, with… It makes no sense. Why do ye want me to leave, when everything has been resolved and Lily is safe and sound?”
“Nothing is resolved.” He turned then, taking in the sight of her.
“Everything I told ye at the start still stands true, Skye. I’m a monster, whatever mask I wear tonight, whatever face I show the world.
I daenae want a bride to care for. And yet here ye are, under me roof, and I—” He broke off, his jaw tightening.
He made himself say it plainly, without softening it, though every part of him ached to take the words back the instant they had left his mouth.
“Ye what?” She stepped closer despite everything, refusing as always to let him retreat into silence the way he had for the better part of a decade. “Finish it, Dougal. Daenae stop there.”
He looked at her, really looked. The moonlight caught the stubborn set of her jaw, the fierce glint in her eyes. And he knew, with a certainty that terrified him more than Angus ever had, that he had no answer left in him that wouldn’t be a lie.
So he said nothing at all. He only crossed the last of the distance between them and kissed her, letting that be the answer he couldn’t find the words for.
He kissed her slowly, like he was trying to memorize the shape of her lips, the way she went still for half a second before her hands found his jacket and held on. Not desperate, just certain, like she had been waiting for this exact moment to prove something to herself.
When he pulled back, he let his forehead rest against hers for one more breath. Neither of them said anything. There wasn’t anything else to be said, not really. Not after that.
He took a step back. Made himself do it before he lost the will to. Slowly, he removed the mask, showing the scarred side of his face—something he had never dared show before. No one had seen it for years.
Skye stepped forward, reaching out to touch it, but before she could, he captured her wrist and pressed his lips against hers, making her gasp softly. He pulled back, his jaw tight, already regretting how far he’d let himself go.
“I wish things were different,” he said quietly. “But I cannae give ye love, Skye. Only this. And me friendship, for what it’s worth.”
Skye let out a short laugh, devoid of warmth. “And the ending to me story, of course. Ye cannae forget that.” She stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself. “I should go.”
“Skye—”
“I’m fine.” The words came too fast, too clipped. “I just need to sleep. It’s late, and I’m tired. That’s all this is.”
“If I’ve offended ye?—”
“Ye havenae.” She was already moving past him toward the door, refusing to meet his eyes. “Goodnight, Dougal.”
She was gone before he could answer.