Page 70 of An English Rose for the Highlander
Oskar raised his brows at Dominik, simply eyeing him and waiting. Wheels, cogs, perhaps even a small rodent running the contraptions all whirred in his head as Dominik contemplated his situation. HelovedRose. Truly and wholly. God, but there was no way she would think as much with how he had spoken to her.
He had made a terrible mistake. If anything, she had to know. She had to know how he felt if only so that the weight of it would no longer crush him.
“I have to tell her,” Dominik whispered, and Oskar patted his back, gesturing toward the door.
“Then ye best hurry. Lady MacKay is due to leave.”
Without another word, Dominik fled from his room with every ounce of speed he could muster. He had to try. He had to do something to convince her to stay, even if the outcome would not change, or he would regret it forever.
Wait, lass. Just a moment. I am coming.
34
It was to be her last evening in the castle. Rose would depart in the well-packed carriage at first light. It was crucial that she got her rest for the journey ahead.
Instead, Rose lay awake in her bed since the moment she entered it. Sleep utterly eluded her; her mind churning over everything that she had said and done, everything that she wished to say and didn’t, every word that she wished to take back. The room was cold behind the covers where she hid herself, dark with the fire in the hearth long since burnt down to barely smoldering embers.
Rose dared not even let a toe slip out from the blankets, curled into a ball as she was. There was a damp spot on the pillow beneath her head, the steady leak of her eyes making the fabric cool and wet.
Never in her life had she cried so hard without making a sound. Never in her life had she feltthishopeless.
I shall resign myself to the life of a spinster.
It had been a thought that repeated over and over in her mind, along with the endless choppy waves of regret and worry about the future. She lived impossibly in the past and the present, desperate not to think about the present. But in none of the states of time had Rose found peace or solace.
Dominik would ask for an annulment once the Crown released its verdict. And for her part, Rose would not argue. She would not pursue another match beyond him, either. It was not something she wished to be known about her—a woman on her third engagement. And more importantly, Rose did not want to be with another husband, the thought a torture most vile.
Rose had also considered the land. She was unsure if Dominik would keep it as they had wed. It belonged to him now, didn’t it? And even if it was hers to do with as she pleased, Rose would leave it to Clan MacKay. They would benefit too strongly from it, and she…she did not care much about what might aid her in the regrettable future that lay ahead of her.
Regrettable indeed, Rose. And beginning at first light.
Perhaps that was another layer of the situation that kept her up that night. Rose did not want to fall asleep and usher tomorrow in all the faster. If it could not come, if she could remain in just this moment, she would not be gone from the castle. She would not be a woman of divorce, and Dominik would not be under any pressure from the Crown.
If she could just…stay…right…here…
Knock, knock, knock.
Jumping slightly, her heart now immediately racing, Rose sat up in her bed. A shiver claimed her at once as she saw the shifting shadow beyond her door, revealed in the slim crack beneath it. She had truly heard the knock. Someone had come to her chamber so very late at night.
Getting up, she slowly padded to the door, her feet turning to ice as she stepped barefoot on the floorboards. As she reached for the knob, Rose could not ignore the way her heart hammered, the way her breath rushed in and out of her. It had been the entire night. Dominik had said what he was on his mind. Did she still leap so readily to hope for his arrival?
Still, pulling the thick panel open to reveal the Laird hit Rose with such shock. She might have hoped, but no part of her could say that she had genuinely believed that he would come.
Her mouth dropped open, and she could not speak.
“Rose.”
That was the only word uttered for a time, tension and silence thick in the space between them. Neither of them appeared to find their words, frozen there, one inside the room, one outside, speech and logic failing. When she started to believe that she would soon go mad from the persistent silence, at last Dominikstepped forward, the floorboards creaking under his feet. He took her hand; his stare locked on hers.
“Stay.”
And Rose had thought she could not be shocked any further. My, how wrong she had been. Her brows shot to her hairline as she heard Dominik whisper the single word that she had been hoping to hear. And there was no mistaking the raw quality of his voice. The Laird did not lie or mislead. With so many hours spent with him, Rose could hear the truth in even a single word from her husband.
“I—”
But she stopped herself. Did this, in fact, change anything? Their circumstances remained the same. The Crown would look to hold someone responsible for Lord Egerton’s death. Rose was still incapable of protecting Dominik or arguing on his behalf if she remained in Scotland. The rumors surrounding her abduction would not die down even with the Viscount’s demise. Thetonwould keep adding fuel to that unruly fire as a form of entertainment.
No, it changes nothing.
