Page 107 of The Laird’s Lost Wife

Willow came next, and Hunter’s chest constricted. She was too small to climb in easily, and seemed to have lost her spark. One of the male servants picked her up carefully and placed her inside the carriage. She vanished inside the darkness, but not before poking her head out and looking hopefully around.

“She’s looking for ye, ye ken,” remarked a female voice from behind.

Hunter didn’t bother to turn to his sister.

“Do ye think I’m going to go running down and beg them to stay?” he murmured. “I willnae do that, Skye.”

“I didnae ask ye to. But ye could at least ask her to stay.”

“Nay.”

“So that’s it, then? Ye will let them go because of yer pride?”

Hunter rounded on her. “Enough, Sister. Ye daenae ken what ye are speaking of.”

“Ye forget,” Skye snapped back, “that I was here. I kent Alice. I kent yer son.”

“Enough. Enough! I willnae hear this.”

He meant to march past her, but she neatly stepped between him and the door. He could have forced his way past her quite easily, but he found himself stopping his tracks, meeting her unblinking gaze.

“Ask her to stay for just a little longer,” Skye urged, her voice hushed. “Listen to me advice. Listen to Mother. Have ye even spoken to her about this?”

“Mother cannae help me.”

“How do ye ken? She’s lived so much, experienced so much. Do ye really think all that experience counts for nothing? And poor Lady Pilbury. Rhiannon is convinced she’ll die under the care of those awful English doctors.”

“Skye, ye daenae ken what ye are talking about. Ye cannae possibly understand how I feel.”

“Of course I daenae ken. I daenae pretend to ken. But I ken ye, Hunter. I ken that ye will sit where ye are and watch yer life go by out of pure stubbornness. I cannae let it happen. I willnae.”

“Then daenae. Go home, Skye. Go back to yer husband and yer keep. Leave me be.”

Skye flinched back, her mouth tightening.

He wished that he hadn’t said it. But of course, words couldn’t be taken back once they’d been given life, and that was that. So he said nothing and just held her gaze, waiting for her to react.

“Well,” she said at last, her voice firm and angry. “If that’s what ye want, then fine. I’ll go. I daenae want to stay here and watch ye destroy yer life over a vow ye made a decade ago. A vow made because of a few selfish, cruel people.”

“Daenae,” he ground out. “Just leave, Skye.”

Without another word, Skye turned on her heel and strode out of the room, leaving the door swinging open.

He stared after her for a long moment, until the crunch of wheels on the paved courtyard made him blink. Heart hammering, he hurried back to the window and peered out.

It was all over. The carriage was packed. Lady Pilbury, Daphne, and Willow were inside. Already, the carriage was growing smaller, dwindling toward the gate.

His mother stood alone on the steps, waving miserably.

That was it, then. They were gone, and he’d missed his last look at Daphne.

Turning, Hunter slammed his fist down onto his desk hard. A crack opened up in the middle, and he opened his fist, shaking out his aching fingers.

I deserved that. I deserved all of it.

CHAPTER 25

TWO WEEKS LATER