They played. Poorly at first. Sorcha laughed when her ring missed repeatedly. William played a little better, though his misses were closer.
“Ye’re overthinking it,” she teased him during breaks.
“And ye’re enjoying this far too much,” he retorted.
They tried again and again until the sky had turned dark and the lanterns were lit one by one. The melody in the air softened.
Somewhere between the third and fifth rounds, Sorcha realized that William had not brought her here to find her a suitor. This wasn’t about duty or obligation. He had simply wanted… company.
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. The realization was sweet and dangerous.
Every time they played, she found herself growing more aware of his proximity, of how her heart responded to him.
I cannae fall into this,she told herself again and again.
I cannae want this.
But want never asked for permission.
When the final round ended, William turned toward her. He moved closer, bending slightly to bring his mouth to her ear.
“Wait here for me,” he murmured.
The words had been quiet, meant only for her. But before she could unleash her pride and act like she didn’t care, her body reacted. She reached out her hands to grip the lapels of his coat, a shaky breath escaping her lips.
She knew she was too old for that reflex. Too old to fear being left behind like some forgotten bairn. Yet some fears never truly went away.
William noticed every single thing. She saw it in his assessing eyes and the subtle shift in his expression. It was like a blend of something soft and dark.
Slowly, deliberately, he lifted his hands. He moved even closer, sliding his fingers over her shoulders.
Sorcha fought the urge to lick her lips. The contact was electrifying. It was almostfeverish.
“I will be back,” he assured her.
She believed him.
“Aye.” She nodded. “I’ll be waiting.”
He stepped back, holding her gaze for a long moment, before walking away. Soon, his figure was swallowed by shadow and lantern light.
Sorcha stood where he had left her, her heart beating far too fast.
I just have to wait for him.
Despite that, a question kept niggling at her mind: what had he gone to do?
23
The sound of approaching footsteps made Sorcha’s heart soar with hope.
Finally.
Relief washed over her, replacing the worried frown on her face. She straightened her posture and twisted around, expecting to see familiar brown eyes and the tall figure that had always entranced her.
But when she lifted her head, it was not William she saw. The warmth in her chest vanished in an instant, replaced by a chill that ran straight down her spine.
Keegan stood before her. His presence evoked unwanted memories. The dance floor. His hands on her waist. His creepy smile.
