Love.
How could she have forgotten?
How could she have forgotten?!
Something wet hit her hand.
Her eyes flared open, only to realize she was curled in a ball on the ground, weeping.
“Miss Fyffe?” A concerned voice at her ear. “Eilidh?”
She lifted her gaze to see Simon crouched beside her, staring in alarm. She blinked at him, wiping her cheeks.
“Are you hurt?” He pulled her to her feet. “Whatever is the matter?”
She looked up at him.
Simon . . . he was a friend. Agoodfriend.
But that was all.
How had she almost agreed to marry him?
Particularly when she and Kieran werealready married!
But Kieran, the wretch, had let her go.
OH!
He. Had. Let. Her. Go!
How could he?!
To watch her marry someone else knowing that they were . . .
That they had . . .
She pressed a hand to her stomach.
“I have to . . .” She shook her head, emotion clogging her throat. “Forgive me, Simon.” She continued to shake her head. “I have . . .”
She felt his hand try to hold her back as she tugged away and rushed into the crowd.
“Eilidh!” Simon called behind her.
But she scarcely heard him.
She had to find Kieran.
Now.
She stood on tiptoe, trying to peer through the crush of people.
But it was futile. She was too short.
The only person she could see clearly was Ewan—the man was part giant after all.
She smiled at that thought. More memories filled her mind—laughing with Ewan, teasing him about a pretty island lass because Eilidh liked making him blush.
