He kissed her ear. “Rest well, wee lass. I’ll stay awhile but I shall be gone before dawn.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat and held him tighter.
***
With the sun creeping up behind him, Finn urged Dìleas into a gallop. When they reached the brow of the hill, he pulled her to a stop and patted her flank. Gazing down at the keep, he found himself where Katelyn had been not so long ago. He’d thought he’d lost her that day. Ach, not that he ever had her.
Filling his lungs with air, he had Dìleas set off at a wild pace. He should have been satisfied, he thought. A night of hot lovemaking shouldn’t have left him with energy burning under his skin, with a pang of hunger in his belly for more.
More Katelyn.
He had to leave. He would say his farewells to his sister and be gone this day. How could he watch Katelyn wed another? He’d been selfish enough bedding her again. Foolish enough too. Yet again, he’d spilled inside of her with no thought for her safety or future. He didn’t even know how she would explain to Gillean how she had lost her maidenhood. Women were tricky, he knew that much, but not Katelyn. He had taken all she could give and thrown her to the wolves.
He was the worst kind of a man. He’d failed to protect Alice and the babe, and now he’d failed Katelyn. Still, she would move on, have babes and live well enough. He might not trust Gillean but what could he do? He was no better for her and she was contracted to marry the man. How could he stomp in, demand Gillean relinquish her and destroy any chance of a good life for her? If he did not leave Kilcree that might be what he would do. He had to leave before he did anything even more foolish.
The breeze buffeted him, refreshing him but not removing the throb in his heart. He’d never forget her, to be sure. Had he ever met a woman so giving in bed? So divine, her fragile beauty only increased as he touched her, like a flower turning toward the sun. He smiled at the memory of those soft lips curving upward then touching him. Finn gripped the reins.
This would not do. If he wasn’t careful he’d put himself deep in his cups again. Odd how one scolding remark had taken away any hunger for wine or ale though. Likely he would always recall her light admonishment and wrinkled nose.
He cast his gaze over the castle while he rode Dìleas down a steep embankment. The sun now sat just above it, as if balancing on the ramparts. The orange glow warmed the stone. His gaze travelled to Katelyn’s window as it always did and he clenched the reins until they dug into his palm. He had to surmount this. Leaving was his only choice. Once he was back in his small cottage in Glencolum, the memories would fade. Her scent wouldn’t be able to follow him across the hills; her laughter couldn’t reach him there. She might invade his dreams sometimes though.
Nay, he’d remember her. He snorted. He’d wanted to brand himself in her memory for some sadistic reason. She’d as much as admitted she had no wish to marry Gillean. In some twisted way, he believed the memory of him—a selfish, cowardly man—would carry her through the misery of an arranged marriage. However, he thought it more likely she would forget him soon enough and he would be left with the lingering doubt.
Finn shook his head and eased the horse into a trot. Lorna needed to know he was leaving. He vowed to avoid Katelyn if he could. And then he would be gone and Katelyn would be married.
Chapter Nine
Gillean watched Catriona closely. All throughout the morning meal, she felt his gaze on her. She yawned. Hopefully she could retreat to her chambers before long. She simply had to avoid any more talk of the wedding. Her eyes itched from crying and her body ached—but in the most beautiful way. If only the ache in her chest was the same. True to his word, Finn had left by dawn. She hadn’t seen him all morning and neither had Lorna. Had he truly gone without a word? She thought he’d meant he would leave her chambers but mayhap he meant to leave Kilcree too.
She fingered her gown as she waited for Lorna to finish speaking with Logan. They conferred by the fire pit, their words hushed but urgent. Whatever they were speaking of, she did not wish to interfere. Gillean lingered in the periphery of her vision, like a wolf eyeing his prey as he sat on a large carved chair, tucked into one corner. He had yet to say anything more than the basic greetings and that made her more nervous. Gone were the overly-friendly touches and the words that were intended to be charming. Coldness had crept over him. Here was the true Gillean, she concluded. The one she’d be marrying.
Logan swivelled on his heels and walked briskly out of the hall, a scowl on his face. Only the three of them now remained. The servants were busy in the kitchens or in the chambers making up the beds and the men-at-arms had taken up their positions while the night watchmen slept in the armoury. The silence made her clench her hands together.