by Carey Corp
Kenna glanced at Duncan, then back at me, my fearless friend’s eyes full of uncertainty. “I only promised for tonight.”
“Fine. Now go enjoy it!” I accented my words with a sharp shove that sent her stumbling in Duncan’s general direction. If I couldn’t face my own fears, at least I could help my friend face hers.
Duncan rushed forward with a grin and took her hand—and she let him keep it. As they walked away, I hoped she would keep other things, like her promise to give him a fair chance. I felt sure that if she did, she’d change her mind about leaving.
A wave of panic rose within me at the thought of a future without her, but I forced it down. Wrapping my arms around my waist against a sudden chill, I walked over to the french doors and leaned against the frame to contemplate the moonlit garden. Tonight at midnight, the bridge would open and I would be there, journal in hand, with or without my best friend.
Sometimes running away was the brave thing to do.
CHAPTER 29
Mackenna
Sometimes running away like a coward was the only thing to do. Especially where dancing—the gateway drug to love—was concerned. Footloose, Hairspray, The King and I, My Fair Lady, and even Hello, Dolly leapt to my mind as cautionary tales. These musical public service announcements warned us about the dangers incited by something as innocuous as a hip wiggle or waltz.
As the heart takes flight and your daydreams appear, any kind of thing can happen. A yes leads to hands and cheeks pressed, the brush of bodies as they sway. It would lead to sweating, and kissing. And romance. Which was to be avoided like the plague.
Duncan’s velvet gaze searched my face as he waited for my answer. Would I care to dance? He might as well have asked me if I wanted to flush my dreams down the toilet. No thank you. Duncan’s eyes widened slightly, cluing me in that I’d spoken aloud. His eagerness vanished as I quickly pointed toward my toes. “Two left feet—remember? How about we go outside and … talk?”
Doing his best to recover from his disappointment, Duncan nodded and offered me his arm. “Verra well. ’Tis a beautiful night. Almost as beautiful as you.”
Before we could slip between the open doors, Fergus blocked our path. He cast me an apologetic glance, and then spoke in a low, urgent voice. “M’ laird, I’m verra sorry to bother ye, but I need ta speak ta you on a matter of great importance.”
With Fergus close behind, Duncan guided me outside and into a remote corner of the patio. He looked about to gauge our privacy then nodded for Fergus to continue. The large man’s pale face grew mottled with agitation as he explained, “It’s Gideon, m’ laird. He’s gone. His guards are gone as well. I’ve had yer men scour the village but there’s no sign of him. It’s as if he’s vanished.”
Duncan cursed under his breath. His lips pressed into a thin slash as his square jaw set determinedly. “Then we canna’ wait much longer to tell Jamie about the deaths at Muir Lea.”
Fergus’s pale brows puckered as he surveyed the multitudes enjoying the party. “In the middle of the coronation ball, m’ laird?”
“Nay. As soon as the celebration has finished. But we need to speak to him before Gideon does. Please go tell the king his brother wishes a word with him in private after the ball.”
“Aye m’ laird.”
As the gentle giant hurried away, Duncan offered me his arm once again. “Dinna worry, Mackenna. Everything will turn out right in the end.”
“Really?” Because from where I was standing, he was covering for me by imprisoning his fellow countryman and lying about it to his own brother, who also happens to be the supreme ruler of the kingdom. “I don’t see how.”
He offered me a lopsided smile that radiated assurance. “There are lots of ways of lookin’ at things.”
“Okay. So how do you see this turning out?”
“It’s not about only this, Mackenna. It’s about how I see everything. My world. Your world. And everything beyond. I believe you and your friend were both brought here for a specific purpose. And if it’s your destiny to be here, who am I to be doubtin’ that?”
“You make it sound so simple.”
Duncan raked his hand through his hair creating those dark, spiky peaks that I loved so. “Faith is hard. Especially when your mind and maybe even your heart might be sayin’ otherwise. But when things seem difficult and we’re tempted to doubt, we need to trust in what we can’t see.”
His faith did little to fill the hollow place created by Fergus’s news. Doing my best to shake off the feeling of doom, I slipped my hand into the crook of his arm and let him lead me into the perfect summer night. After a few minutes of quiet rambling along the hedgerow, we approached a huge stone archway. Duncan turned to look back the way we’d come. His face shone with quiet pride as he instructed me to turn around.
At the far end of the lawn, the most beautiful castle I could ever imagine glowed against the indigo sky. Although the sounds of celebration had become hushed, I could still see much of the action through the open doors. It was like watching an elaborate pantomime.
I spotted Vee—a vision in burgundy, near the buffet. As she watched the Doonians celebrating, her angst-ridden face declared all the yearning she refused to vocalize. If her feelings had only been about Jamie, I would’ve insisted we skip the stupid ball and camp on the bridge until it opened. But Vee loved this place. She’d longed for this paradoxical kingdom her entire life. And she belonged here.
If there was even the slightest chance Vee could have her dream, I would not aid and abet her fugitive intentions. Although I didn’t want to go to Chicago without her, I was perfectly capable of carrying Aunt Gracie’s journal out of Doon by myself. And dealing with the witch—honestly, I’d yet to figure that part out, but having Vee by my side didn’t change my odds. I mean, what could she do—cheer Addie to death?
Deep in my heart, I knew she was supposed to stay, the same way I knew I had to go. Unfortunately, I suspected it was already too late. I had little hope that fate would allow Jamie to get unengaged to Sofia and confess his undying love for Vee all in the span of one royal ball.
“We’ve time yet.” Duncan’s voice brought me back to the garden with a start. For a moment, I thought he’d answered my unspoken thoughts. But that was impossible. Only Vee and I shared a brain. As I frowned up at him, he smoothed a tendril of hair from my cheek and clarified, “The Brig o’ Doon doesn’t open for hours.”
His freakishly gorgeous face held such hope that the rational part of my brain urged me to bail—on him, the ball, my promise to Vee, all of it. But my fanciful heart, overcome by the possibilities of the night, compelled me to ask, “What do you want from me?”
“Just be here. Tonight. Dinna leave me yet.”
Had Duncan and Vee conspired ahead of time? If he started singing Rent songs, every last one of my barriers would come crashing down. His hand slid from my cheek to cup my neck. The heat of his touch counteracted the chill wafting off the lake.
When I shivered, his other hand skimmed across my collarbone. The pad of his thumb blazed a trail down my shoulder to my elbow. “It’s just one evening. What are ye afraid of Mackenna?”
I wasn’t afraid. I just didn’t see the sense in indulging in something that wouldn’t—that couldn’t—last. His dark gaze crackled with heat and the edges of my argument began to blister, melting my resistance to reveal the devastating truth. I couldn’t walk away—not without knowing what I was giving up.
On pure instinct, I grabbed Duncan’s lapel and pulled him toward me. My lips crushed his in a hard, closed-mouth kiss. He felt firm, yet gentle—and so warm. His eyes went wide and then fluttered closed, his lips parting. I opened mine in response.
Duncan froze, his hands digging into my upper arms as he tried to be a gentleman. He trembled and I could sense the war waging inside of him. Unwilling to let him go, I wound my fingers around his neck and into his soft hair.
The remainder of his willpower broke apart. Sharp angles of rock pressed int
o my back as he pinned me against the stone arch. But I barely felt it. I closed my eyes and gave myself over to the sensations of being kissed by Duncan MacCrae.
Sometime later, Duncan lifted his head to gaze at me like a man enchanted. His husky voice was thick with relief. “Finally, ye’ve accepted your destiny. I wasn’t sure tha’ you would.”
Geez—didn’t he know when to keep his mouth shut?
I gave him a light shove. His rock-solid chest was immoveable, but I pushed anyway. I needed to get some space between us. And air—boy, did I need some air.
Duncan straightened, but his hands remained anchored to my hips. “Are ye mad at me for kissin’ you?”
“No.” Actually I had kissed first, but now wasn’t the time to point that out. I inhaled deeply in an attempt to clear my head. His clean warrior scent, leather saddles and sunshine, filled my senses and attempted to undermine my resolve. “But we need to talk.”
“Talking’s for later.”
His crooked grin upended rational thought. Hypnotized by the motion of his tantalizing lips, I leaned toward them for another taste. “Later …”
Instantly, his mouth was on mine. After another searing kiss, he pulled back just enough to speak. Against my lips, he breathed, “Tell me you’ll stay.”
What? In a delayed reaction, my head shook back and forth mid-kiss. “No.”
Duncan’s mouth hesitated over mine. His full lips parted in anticipation as they paused. His body went still. Finally, he straightened so that we could properly see one another. “Won’t ye have me?”
“You’re asking me to choose. To give up one dream for another.” It didn’t help that a part of me—and I wasn’t willing to examine how large a part—wanted Duncan MacCrae as much, if not more, than the stage.
I stared into his compelling brown eyes and willed him to understand. “It’s always been my dream to become a professional actress. I have this fabulous theater internship in Chicago, with a phenomenal director—” Weston Ballard flitted across my mind, but compared with the amazing boy in front of me, the young director held zero appeal.
Duncan took my hands in his and tipped his forehead down until it rested against mine. “I’ll build ye a theatre here. Anything your heart desires.”
Anything? The temptation to stay—for him—suddenly overwhelmed me. “What if I stay and it doesn’t work out between us? I don’t want to grow to regret that decision or you.”
“I’ll spend every day making sure you don’t.”
“What if you experience a Calling? Then I’d be stuck here—”
“Shhh.” Gently, he touched his finger to my lips. “You’re worrying over things that may never come to pass. If you stay, I’ll give you my heart and never ask for it back.”
It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard. Just when I thought my feelings for Duncan couldn’t get any deeper, he rocked me to a whole new level. I kissed him again, like the world was coming to an end, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough.
The realization hit me like an avalanche, freezing me to my core. I wrenched myself out of Duncan’s arms and scrambled away before he could change my mind. No amount of lip locking could change the fact we lived in two different worlds.
As Duncan came up behind me, I fixed my eyes on the palace as if for the very last time. Although he didn’t touch me, he stood close enough to ward off the chill. “You’re not staying, are ye?”
Unshed tears caused the image of Castle MacCrae to swim in front of me. If I stayed, I would always be afraid of losing him to a Calling and to regrets of choosing him over my ambition. Not trusting my voice, I shook my head back and forth.
“Then take me with you.” Duncan bridged the distance between us by wrapping his arms around me. He pressed his lips against my shoulder and proceeded to kiss a trail up the sensitive skin on my neck. His teeth softly nipped at my earlobe and then he whispered, “Promise you won’t leave without me.”
My world shifted yet again. Was he asking what I thought he was asking? To leave Doon for me like Uncle Cameron had eventually done for Aunt Gracie? I twisted in his arms to search his face. “What about Doon?”
“It doesn’t matter.” As if sensing my skepticism, he placed his hand over his heart. “I promise.”
Could that be true? Could I really have both—the boy I cared for and my dreams of glory? It almost seemed too good to be true. With a flutter of his lashes and a flash of crooked smile, Duncan banished any lingering doubts. “I’m in agony, here. Please say yes to me, woman.”
Seizing the moment, I took his hands in mine. I made my promise and sealed the pledge with a perfect kiss. Standing under the stone archway, the gesture felt monumental, like making a sacred vow.
As I basked in Duncan’s adoration, everything felt right for the first time since coming to Doon. His guileless smile warmed places in my heart that had never known summer. In the face of such beautiful sincerity, I wanted more. Surprising both of us, I said, “I’ve changed my mind. Shall we dance?”
CHAPTER 30
Veronica
Sinking my teeth into my third chocolate éclair, I tried to disregard the silence that swept through the room like a wave. The new king of Doon had arrived at the ball. But I refused to give him the satisfaction of staring and twittering behind my hands, like every other female in the room. Instead, I’d drown my sorrows with as much fancy French junk food as a girl of my small stature could consume without puking.
Raising a flute of champagne to the light, I watched tiny bits of strawberries bob in the iridescent bubbles. It tasted so delicious that I drained the entire glass, strawberries and all, in very short order. Blissfully, I popped the remainder of the éclair into my mouth, set the empty flute on a nearby table, and turned in search of more bubbly. Overflowing dessert plate in hand, I came face-to-face with the newly crowned king and his exquisite future queen.
“Oh, hi,” I said through a mouthful of pastry, so it sounded more like, “Ow, hho.”
Sofia gave me a sweet, sympathetic smile as if to say, “Poor, ill-mannered girl. I feel embarrassed for you.”
Jamie smirked, shaking his head. “I dinna think ye would take it so literally when I said this would be my first edict.” He waved his hand toward my overstuffed mouth.
With one gulp, I swallowed the lump of sugary goo that now tasted bitter on my tongue. Under different circumstances, his comment would’ve made me laugh—but not tonight. Since I was out of here at midnight anyway and had nothing to lose, I replied, “Appalling manners seem to be one of your special talents, your majesty. I was only trying to make you feel more comfortable.”
Sofia made a choking sound and covered her mouth with a delicate hand.
“I see,” Jamie remarked with an imperiously arched brow. “And what would some o’ my other special talents be, Miss Welling?”
Uncontrollable heat rushed up my neck at the implication in his words. No way was I letting him get away with embarrassing me, especially in front of the too-perfect Sofia. I tapped my index finger on my chin, pretending to think.
“Hmm … let’s see. Bossiness comes to mind.” I held up one finger and began counting off his faults. “Arrogance, extreme stubbornness, an ugly temper … Shall I go on?”
“Nay.” His eyes narrowed. “Sofia, would you please excuse us for a moment? I wouldna want to expose you to anymore o’ Miss Welling’s drunken accusations.”
“I. Am. Not. Drunk. You … conceited pig!” I didn’t think this was the kind of “fighting” Kenna had been talking about, but I’d never intended to follow her advice anyway.
“Och, lass, I could have ye thrown in the stockades for callin’ me that.”
I stepped toward him and glared up into his insolent face. “I’d like to see you try, your highness!”
Jamie stiffened his spine, taking full advantage of his height. “And I saw ye down a whole glass of champagne with my own eyes.”
We glared at each other for several seconds. D
isconcerted by his unwavering stare, I broke eye contact. But then I was staring at his delectable mouth. Vivid memories of those scorching lips on mine sparked a flutter low in my stomach. Desperate to diffuse the tension building between us, I started babbling, “I wasn’t trying to get drunk, the champagne tasted good and … and I like strawberries,” I finished lamely, glancing away from him. “Now look what you’ve done. Sofia’s gone.”
“I asked her to leave. Unlike some people, she knows how to listen,” he snarled between clenched teeth, taking my plate and setting it on the table behind me.
“An important trait if she’s going to get along with you for the rest of her life,” I spat, just as I realized he was reaching for my hand.
“What’re you doing?” I asked, my muscles stiffening in rebellion.
“Dancing. I thought that was obvious.” With a show of teeth, he ordered, “Smile.”
Sweeping me into his arms, I could tell he was still angry, but clearly didn’t want everyone in the kingdom to know it. So I complied with a pasted-on smile as my body began moving effortlessly in time with his.
“I think you should know, my dance card is full, your eminence,” I said with undisguised sarcasm. Despite the glittering circlet on his head, I couldn’t think of him as a king. He was still the beautiful boy from my visions, who laughingly spoke with his mouth full and kissed me with so much passion I felt it all the way to my toes.
“Dance card, eh?”
“Yes, as we speak you’re stealing me from some poor soul who asked for my first dance hours ago.”
Something dark flared in his eyes, his smile fading. “Let me see it.”
“See what?”
“Yer dance card.”
There was no dance card and we both knew it.
“I lost it?” I said, glancing up at him hopefully.
His loud laughter drew the attention of everyone around us. “Verranica, ye never cease to amaze me.”
