Or hadallof this been for Muira?
Thefollowingmorning at dawn, Amelia wrote a letter offarewellto Josephine, along with a brief note to Duncan, left them both on her desk for a servant to find, then walked out of the castle and stepped into her uncle’s coach.
There was achillin the air. Puffs of steam shot out of the horses’ nostrils as they tossed their heads and nickered in the faint morning light. How quiet and peaceful it seemed.
Her uncle joined her a few minutes later withallof his bags and belongings, curious as to why they were leaving so hastily, without saying good-bye to Duncan. She explained that she had broken off her engagement and did not wish to discuss it. He stepped inside the coach, which bounced under his weight, and did not push her to say more, at least not yet. The door closed behind him. She felt very tired. He patted her hand and said he would listen when she was ready to speak of it. Amelia could only nod.
The coachpulledaway from the castle, and she did not dare look back.
* * *
The minute Duncan opened his eyes to a blinding ray of sunlight shooting in through the window, he knew he had lost her.
By some inexplicable means, he had slept through the night, but it was a night haunted by dreams of corpses and blood, and the scorching fires ofhellburning at his skin. He dreamed of Amelia, too—watching him from a balcony above while he sank deeper and deeper into a sea of flames beneath a smoky sky. She waited until he was immersed to the neck in fire, then turned and walked away. She did not look back, and he remained there, staring after her, floating on the fieryswells.
He sat up in bed and rubbed the heel of his hand over his heart. There was a dul , muffled ache inside him, like distant roaring thunder. He looked at the window. The sun was just coming up.
Then he saw the note—a sealed letter, slipped under his door sometime during the night or that morning. From Amelia, no doubt. An acute sense of panic gripped him. Heswallowed over a debilitatingswellof dread, then went to retrieve it:
Duncan,
By the time you read this, I will be gone. My uncle istaking me back to England. I am sorry to leave withoutsaying good-bye, but I am certain this is the betterway. I do not wish to ever see you again. Please honorthat wish.
Amelia
He tried to breathe, but his lungs felt tight. She was gone, and she did not want him to follow. She did not wish to ever see him again. There was no hope for forgiveness. The tenderness she had begun to feel for him was no more. It was dead, annihilated, and he was the only one to blame, for he was the one who hadkilledit. He had slaughtered their love in a savage, bloody massacre. He had murdered someone he’d promised to spare.
An unarmed man in cold blood. Sliced his head off with an axe, and stuffed it into a bag.
It was an unquestionably brutal act of savagery.
Butstill—still!—Duncan could not bring himself to regret it.
Even now, he would do it again. He would do it ten times over to protect her. He would sacrifice everything—her love and, in turn,allpresent and future happiness—to keep that vile monster from ever touching her. Even if it meant never seeing her again.
Duncan crossed to a chair and sat down, tipped his head back, and listened to the steady ticking of the clock while everything inside him went quiet andstill.
* * *
«Willyou speak to me, Duncan?” Duncan looked up from his book and saw Angus standing in the open doorway, waiting for an invitation to enter the study.
“Come in.”
Angus entered and stood for a moment, looking around the untidy room. “Iain’s worried about you,” he said. “As am I. You’ve not left these rooms for five days.”
It was true, but he’d needed time to think. Time to ponder and reflect upon his purpose in the world, the source of his strength, and the value of the sacrifice he had made.
He was glad Angus had come. There was much to discuss.
“I regret some of the things I said and did,” Angus told him, “especial y in the banquetinghall. I was not fair to you, Duncan. I should never have doubted you.”
Duncan closed the book and set it aside, rose from the chair, and shrugged into his green silk morning coat. He adjusted the lace at his sleeves, then approached his old friend. “Did your father receive the package I sent?”
“Aye, and let me assure you, there was dancing and a feast like no other. You should’ve been there, Duncan. I wish you were.”
Duncan merely nodded.
“Butyou’venot been celebrating,” Angus noted as he adjusted his tartan over his shoulder.
