“My laird!” Phillip’s voice cut through the clamor. His advisor came hurrying over, clutching that damned marriage contract in one hand like a cudgel to beat him with. “I thought ye’d want to know,” he said breathlessly. “I’ve sent word to the king’s envoy by bird, advising him of yer agreement to the king’smarriage proposal. If the weather is kind, he should be with us within the week.”
For a heartbeat, Elise stared at Phillip, uncomprehending. Then she took a sharp intake of breath.
“You…you’ve agreed to marry the king’s niece?”
“Elise, listen to me.” He reached out, but she stepped back, away from him. “Elise—”
She shook her head. “Don’t. Don’t say my name like it means something.”
He reached for her. “Please, just let me explain.”
But she was already moving—turning on her heel, skirts whipping around her legs as she strode away. She didn’t look back as she disappeared into the keep.
Philip shifted uneasily beside him. “My laird, I’m sorry if I—”
“It isnae yer fault.”It’s mine. All of this is my fault.“Go and meet the council. Tell them what’s happened—I dinna think I can face it right now.”
Philip hesitated, then bowed and retreated, leaving Jamie standing in the courtyard alone. The torches flickered, their light casting long shadows against the walls. He stared at the doors Elise had vanished through, his chest tight.
He’d lost her.
And for the first time in his life, Jamie Donald of Islay wasn’t sure if the Isles were worth the cost.
Chapter Twelve
Elise stuck herhead through the door, scanning the courtyard. There was no sign of Jamie. Good.
She stepped down, looking left and right. Andrea walked by her side, seeming a little nonplussed at Elise’s cautious behavior. The housekeeper had no idea what had transpired between her and Jamie, and Elise was only too happy to keep it that way. Hell, she didn’t wantanyoneto know what had happened between them. She was miserable enough as it was. She didn’t need gossip making it worse.
The courtyard of Dun Arach was a riot of color and activity this morning, and the air was filled with the tang of wood smoke, roasting apples—and the zingy scent of excitement. It was the morning of the harvest dance—an event that Andrea had told her was the highlight of the year, and it seemed everyone was as excited as a child on Christmas Eve.
Everyone except her, that is.
Around the courtyard, straw bales were being laid out for seating, garlands of late flowers were being strung from the walls, children were laughing and bickering as they wove corn dollies that would be thrown into the bonfire that evening.
At any other time, Elise would have loved the excitement and the preparations—she was never one to turn down a good party—but now the sight of all the activity only reminded her how out of place she was. Of how much she didn’t belong.
“Elise?” Andrea asked. “Is something wrong?”
She shook herself and forced a smile for the housekeeper. “No. I’m fine.”
She wasn’t fine, of course, and she suspected that Andrea wasn’t fooled by her lie. Since she and Jamie had returned to the keep three days ago, she’d been avoiding him like he was the plague wrapped in tartan. She’d made sure not to come down in the morning until long after his daily duties had started, ate her meals alone in her room, and absented herself from the castle as much as possible.
Three times he’d come to her door. Three times he’d knocked, asking to be let in so that they could talk. And three times she hadn’t answered, pretending to be asleep.
She didn’t want to talk to him. She didn’t want to see him. She didn’t want to have to look into those eyes, remember that kiss—and then be reminded that he was marrying somebody else. Far better to bury herself in her quest for answers, which was what she’d been doing for the last three days, spending all her time out of the castle with Andrea, interviewing eyewitnesses.
But the memory of the kiss she’d shared with Jamie seemed burned into her thoughts, and she couldn’t forget it. The ghost of his mouth against hers lingered like a bruise she kept pressing to see if it still hurt.
It did.
“Are ye sure ye wish to go down to the village today?” Andrea asked, snapping her back to the present. “We could stay and help with the harvest dance preparations if ye’d prefer.”
Elise shook her head. “No. I’d like to get out of the castle.”
Andrea gave her a shrewd look but didn’t press the matter. Instead, she handed Elise a basket containing a wrapped loaf of bread, a crock of butter, and a bottle of whisky—a bribe for the fisherman they were going to see.
“Neil will talk more freely with a drink in his hand,” Andrea said by way of explanation.
