And if he did, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.
This evening with him had convinced her of what she needed to do. There was no way she could stay. All he’d have to do would be to crook his little finger and she’d be in his bed again. She didn’t have the ability to refuse him now any more than she would have that ability when he was married.
And sleeping with some other woman’s husband was something she could not do and live with herself.
Besides, hadn’t Christiana warned her that life would be challenging?Only in letting go will you hold on.She understood the meaning now. She had to let go of Malcolm so that she could hold on to her sanity.
“So there you go,” she said aloud as she stepped back into her room, closing the door to Malcolm’s chamber.
Her cloak was where she’d left it, folded neatly on the bed. There was really nothing else she needed. Once she had it on, she picked up a candle and headed out into the hallway.
She chose to go the back way. There’d be too many people in the main hallway and probably even in the kitchen since guests had just arrived.
Guests.The word squeezed at her heart. Malcolm’s new wife and her father.
Quietly she made her way through the narrow halls, passing only one young girl on her way outside. She kept her head turned and her cloak pulled low around her face so it was unlikely the child had any idea whom she’d passed in the hallway.
The cold bit into her exposed hands when she stepped into the night, so she blew out her candle and left it on the ground, freeing her to wrap her hands inside her cloak. The moon gave plenty of light to find her way.
Beyond the gardens, the half-finished walls of the bathhouse loomed eerily in the dark. Though it would be a wonderful addition to the grounds when Malcolm finished it, it would never compare to the bath he’d prepared for her tonight.
“No!” she whispered into the night. She couldn’t allow herself to dwell on what had been. Now was the time for what would be.
She carefully picked her way across the rocky ground to what would one day be the entrance of the building, her eyes focused on her destination.
If a small piece of rowan wood would have been powerful enough to get her here, surely an entire rowan tree should be able to get her back to her own time.
Forty-four
THE GREAT HALLwas ablaze with light and activity when Malcolm entered. Both fireplaces roared with freshly built fires, and torches had been lit all around the room.
From the number of bodies seated at the tables, it appeared as though the MacKilyn traveled with fully half his household. Serving girls scurried from the filled tables out toward the kitchen and back again, carrying trays and pitchers of ale for their weary guests.
Patrick sat at the main table next to an old man who could be no one else but the MacKilyn himself. A small girl and a young woman rounded out the group.
Malcolm studied the woman’s face as he approached. The daughter no doubt. Pleasant enough to look at. But she wasn’t Dani.
“Angus MacKilyn?” he asked as he approached, and the old man stood, holding out his arms for an embrace.
Perhaps he always greeted his potential sons-in-law in such a manner.
“MacDowylt, my lad. ’Tis good to meet you at long last. I’ve heard many things about you from those who have passed through my own hall.”
The young woman smiled up at him and a wave of guilt swamped his conscience. He should tell them now. There would be no marriage.
No marriage and no warriors to defend Castle MacGahan when Torquil’s men came seeking retribution.
Another wave of guilt, this time accompanied by the familiar feeling of failure. This failure his largest of all. This time he would fail his entire clan, possibly leading to the deaths of every man, woman, and child in the castle.
He felt the blood rush from his head and he sat down heavily in the chair Patrick had vacated.
“Are you well, lad? You’ve a pale cast to yer face,” Angus observed.
“We’ve only this very morning returned from a hard journey to the west,” Patrick hurried to interject. “Malcolm’s no yet had a chance to rest up.”
“Ah, I see.” The old man nodded his understanding. “Speaking of a strenuous journey brings me to the subject of the boon I’d have of you, lad. The boon in return for the lending of my soldiers. But first, I’d have you meet my daughter, Aeschine, and her attendant, Marie.”
So this was it. The time had come for him to do what needed to be done. He glanced to Patrick, heartsick when his brother quickly averted his eyes.