Page 96 of The Laird's Secret Bairn

Perhaps it was better this way. If his mother or Stephen couldn’t reach him, then neither could the doubt creeping at the edges of his resolve. He’d made his decision. Rehashing it with people who only wanted to talk him out of it would accomplish nothing.

He hadn’t meant for things to end this way between them. He never had. Dougal moved to the window, staring out at the darkened grounds below. Somewhere out there, life would carry on without him complicating it further.

That was for the best. Skye deserved better than a man who couldn’t give her what she truly wanted.

He closed his eyes, letting the quiet of the room wrap around him like a shroud. Whatever came next, he would face it alone. It was, he told himself, exactly how it needed to be.

Skye did not sleep that night.

Every time she tried, she woke up with tears staining her pillow. She kept replaying Dougal’s words over and over, wishing they were not true.

A part of her wanted to go to him. To demand to know why he was doing this. Why he was hurting them both. But she knew he would not answer. He would keep her at a distance.

She wasn’t even sure if he would show up this morning to bid her goodbye. He might only do so for Lily’s sake.

In the end, she stayed up most of the night finishing her packing.

The morning unfolded with a sad air surrounding the castle. She and her sister dressed, their bags already loaded in the carriage. Lily was crying, refusing to let go of her. She kept begging her to stay, telling her that she would be a good girl.

It broke her heart that Lily thought this had anything to do with her. None of this was about her. This was all between her and Dougal.

“Ye promise ye’ll write to me?” Lily’s arms were locked stubbornly around her middle, refusing to let go even as the horses stamped and shifted impatiently behind them, their harnesses jingling in the cold morning air.

“I promise ye, sweetling.” Skye knelt before her, ignoring the damp soaking through her skirts, and brushed a loose curl from the girl’s tear-streaked face, memorizing the shape of her nose, the stubborn set of her chin so like her father’s, the particular green of her eyes she had grown to love more than she had meant to. “I’ll write ye every tale I can think of, and ye’ll write me back and tell me all about Blossom’s mischief.”

“And the goat’s mischief.”

“Aye, and the goat’s mischief.Especiallythe goat’s mischief, since he seems to cause the most trouble of anyone in this whole castle, present company excluded.”

The animals were there at Lily’s side, almost as if they knew that Skye was leaving.

Kenna stood nearby, watching with a sad smile on her face. She had already bid Skye farewell, wanting to give her a chance to say goodbye to Lily. She was a good grandmother. No one could ever accuse her of being anything except that.

Lily sniffled hard, burying her face in Skye’s shoulder for one last moment. Skye held her just as tightly, soaking up her warmth for whatever came next, whatever emptiness awaited her back home.

“I really liked our adventures, Skye. The treasure hunt, and the sweets we stole from Cook, and the singing competition Blossom refused to participate in.”

“As did I, more than ye ken, sweetling. More than I could ever properly tell ye.” Skye pulled back just enough to look her in the eye, blinking hard to hold back her tears. “Something tells me that yer faither means to take ye on a great many more adventures, lassie, whether he admits it or nae.”

“Truly? Even without ye here?”

The question landed harder than Skye had expected, and she had to swallow before answering. She did not trust her voice not to waver. “Truly.”

“Something tells me she’s right,” Dougal’s voice said, close behind them.

Skye froze at the sound, every carefully rebuilt wall threatening to crumble all over again.

Lily spun around, delight momentarily chasing the tears from her face. “Da! Are we truly going on adventures? Where?”

“Wherever ye like, little one. Even so far as yer grandfaither’s clan, if that suits ye.” His gaze had already found Skye’s over the top of Lily’s head, steady and unreadable, and she forced herself to hold it rather than look away, despite what it cost her.

“Travel? Truly? All the way there?” Lily’s attention scattered instantly, chasing after the promise of going somewhere new.

For one brief, unguarded moment, it left Dougal and Skye alone amid the bustle of the courtyard, neither quite willing to be the first to speak.

Skye rose slowly to her feet, smoothing her skirts more out of habit than necessity, giving her hands something to do besides reach for him the way they ached to. “That’s kind of ye. Taking her to meet him properly after everything.”

“It’s nae only kindness.” Dougal’s gaze hadn’t left her face, steady in a way that made her chest ache. “She deserves to ken her family, whatever shape it takes. I’ve learned that much this past week, if naught else.”