small act of kindness, his mouth remained hard.
“I … I … cccann … mmanange,” I stammered between shakes.
“Fine. I shall be changing in the other room.”
Several uncomfortable moments later, I wore a shirt that went down to my knees and huge trousers rolled and hanging on my hips. I wiggled my toes inside large wool socks, relieved that the feeling began to return. I’d stashed the journal under the cushions of the sofa—not an ideal hiding place, but since I didn’t have a plastic bag it would have to do.
Sitting on the stone hearth, my arms wrapped around my bent knees, I was as close to the fire as I could get without burning my skin—and I’d finally stopped shaking. What was going on? Did summer blizzards occur often in Doon?
Jamie returned with two steaming mugs. As I watched him approach, my insides thawed, quickly reaching the molten state that was fast becoming a constant when he was around. He wore a dark cable-knit sweater, a casual pair of trousers, and his feet were bare. His golden hair was damp and curling against his neck. He handed me a mug as he sat on the stone hearth. Facing me, he kept one foot on the floor and bent one knee in front of him, resting the crook of his arm casually on top.
Not taking my eyes off him, I took a sip of the hot tea, the liquid sliding down my throat to warm my belly. He appeared to have calmed himself, except for a muscle that still ticked in the square line of his jaw. Several moments passed, the crackle of the fire and occasional howl of wind the only sounds in the room. I felt a compulsive need to fill the silence, but I wanted him to say what was on his mind first, so I distracted myself by shifting my attention to his large hands. His fingers, wrapped around his mug, were long and blunt, his nails almost perfectly square.
“Why? Why did ye do it, Verranica?” His eyes were narrow, his lips tight. I could see despite his casual posture, his anger was barely in check.
Turning away from his penetrating gaze, I stared into the dancing flames, unsure how much to tell him. “After you told me about your nightmares, I knew I needed to leave.”
“Tell me why,” he demanded harshly.
What was so hard for him to understand? “I figured it was the best way to protect … everyone.”
“You mean everyone, or yerself?”
“That’s not fair,” I said evenly, determined not to fuel his anger with my own. I set my tea down, straightened my legs, and put my feet on the floor. None of this was his fault.
“So destroying Doon was for the good of everyone?” He asked in a rough whisper, setting his mug on the hearth with a loud clunk.
“What?” My voice raised several octaves. “What are you talking about?”
I stood unsteadily and I stared down at him. “You’re the one who told me I was”—I made air quotes with my fingers—“contaminating the kingdom with my presence.” His expression didn’t change. “I was trying to save Doon, you pig-headed jerk!”
Jamie stood and grabbed my shoulders, his eyes burning into mine. “You stupid lass! I told ye if anyone crosses the borders o’ Doon it would break the Covenant!”
“No! You said if you crossed the border.”
“Don’t tell me what I said or didna say.”
I shook my head in denial. “I’m not even a citizen of Doon. You said I shouldn’t concern—”
His hands tightened painfully on my arms, cutting off my words. “I meant that the rules were my burden to bear. I dinna say they wouldn’t apply to you. If you’ve accepted Doon as yer home in your heart, yer a citizen.”
“You’re hurting me.” I shrugged my shoulders and his hands dropped instantly.
He turned and began to pace, his every move punctuated by frustration. When he finally spoke, his words were as curt as his movements. “What did ye think caused the blizzard?” He took a step closer, his hands clenched into fists. “And the bear attack?”
I stepped back and stumbled over my own feet. Grabbing the sofa to steady myself, my stomach did a nauseating flip. He couldn’t be saying what I thought he was saying—that I’d almost fulfilled his dreams by destroying Doon and everyone in it.
He advanced on me, his every move feral. I scrambled backward, shaking my head in denial of the awful truth.
“It was the kingdom, the enchantment trying to stop ye from reaching the border—and obliterating us all.”
My knees gave out and I landed hard on the stone hearth. How could I have been so colossally stupid? I buried my head in my hands so Jamie couldn’t see my shame.
He grabbed my shoulders again and pulled me to my feet. I kept my arms locked, my hands on my face. Should I tell him about Addie and the journal? Show him proof of why I was trying to leave before the Centennial? Some deeply seeded instinct warned me against it. Without knowing how the witch’s dark magic worked through the book, I might be putting Jamie in more danger.
“Verranica, look at me,” Jamie barked.
Slowly, I lowered my hands and he released my arms.
“Tell me ye didna know,” he demanded. His eyes bore into me, searching. “Tell me ye didna think leaving would destroy the kingdom!”
“Jamie, I promise. I didn’t know. I didn’t understand,” I implored. “I was trying to protect you—by leaving.”
Unable to face his condemnation, I tore my eyes away and focused on his chest. He thought I was in league with the witch and deliberately trying to destroy Doon and everyone he loved along with it. “No wonder you hate me.”
A heated silence crackled between us. Had I spoken that last part aloud? It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. All I wanted to do was get away from him, but there was nowhere for me to go.
“Hate you? Is that what ye think?” he spoke in a hushed tone. His silence stretched on until I raised my eyes to his.
His body was wound so tight he looked like he might snap into pieces. When he spoke, his voice was deep and raw. “Do you have any idea what it was like when you walked into that throne room—my every dream and fantasy come to life?”
That, I could understand. Afraid to breathe, I nodded my head, remembering that first day I saw him at the tournament; the sensation of all the blood draining from my body and my knees going weak.
“But all the while knowing you were the embodiment of my every fear?” He stepped back, raking a shaky hand through his hair. “Like seeing what ye want most in the world on the other side of an impossibly deep chasm, knowing you can never touch her or hold her …”
His eyes churned like dark waves in a storm. “Being near you is like being on a torture rack—my duty pulling me away from what my heart and body crave.”
My stomach fluttered at his words, but questions tumbled through my mind, tangling my thoughts into knots. “But, if you believed the nightmares … why didn’t you just make me leave as soon as I got here?”
“My da thought I’d misinterpreted them, missed some vital part that exonerated you … and I longed to believe him. But with my father so weak, the kingdom was at its most vulnerable. I couldna afford to think with my heart.” He reached toward me, but stopped then lowered his hand and shoved it into his pocket. “Do you know before you came to Doon, I considered coming after you?”
I shook my head, speechless while my heart took up acrobatics in my chest.
“I begged my father to find a way for me to cross the bridge so I could find you in the modern world.”
“Why?” I croaked, picturing my kilt-wearing, sword-wielding prince showing up at Bainbridge High—for real.
“I couldna wait round for the Centennial. Doing nothing was killing me. I had to know if you were real, if you were everythin’ I’d dreamed … angel or devil.” He stepped closer and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I shuddered under his fingertips. “But without the rings, there was nothing for me to do but wait for you … to come to me.”
Tears began to leak out of my eyes. With a half curse, half groan, Jamie gathered me into his arms. “So,
