The gale was worsening. He spread his legs to balance himself and placed one large hand on the mast. "Aye. I pledged myself to Fair Ellen. I shouldnae be looking at another lassie with desire."
Shock shuddered through her. "Ye desired me?"
"Aye." The admission emerged as if it hurt him.
She released the rope and spread her hands in incomprehension. "If ye want me, and I want ye…"
"I dinnae want to want ye," he snapped.
"Dougal…" She took a step closer, until only inches separated them. For one sizzling instant, his eyes met hers and she suffered the insane notion that perhaps despite everything, she’d get what she longed for.
She’d been wrong to think him indifferent. The gaze that he leveled on her betrayed anger and self-loathing and confusion and anguish. But it also glittered with the desire he’d just so unwillingly confessed.
"Stay back," he growled.
She didn’t move. "But we could…"
Dougal shook his head. "No, we couldnae. Ye lied to me."
She felt like he hit her in the stomach, punching all the air out of her. Because she’d forgotten just what they were doing here in the middle of the night in this restless boat. The argument had moved so far past her useless schemes to keep him here on her island.
"I lied to ye because I love you," she mumbled, grabbing at the rope again.
"If that’s true, I’m sorry."
As she looked at that determined jaw and those steady eyes, her fragile hope died. If they’d ever had a chance – and right now, she was convinced they hadn’t – his discovery of her deceit had destroyed it.
"Will ye no’ stay?" she asked, even now unprepared to accept that she’d never see him again.
"Ye must see I cannae."
She couldn’t, but that was her misery to bear.
"What about Papa?"
Dougal frowned, and she saw that the question came from a thousand miles away from his immediate concerns. "Gus?"
Kirsty stepped back, taking a moment to find her balance. "Ye should say goodbye to him. It’s no’ his fault that ye and I have fallen out."
"He knows I’m leaving on the first tide."
"Nonetheless he expects ye for breakfast."
His shoulders slumped. "He’ll try to get me to stay for Christmas."
If her heart wasn’t breaking, she might have smiled. "Given that the weather is worsening, that might be the sensible thing to do."
He shook his head. "After what I’ve learned tonight, I must go."
"Aye," she said, even as her foolish heart cried out that he didn’t have to go at all. That he should stay on Askaval and never leave her.
Chapter 9
Dougal was still fuming as he sailed the Kestrel out of Askaval’s neat wee harbor the next morning. But beneath his anger lurked disbelief, and an even more powerful hurt. How had he been so deceived in Kirsty? He’d thought she was the most marvelous girl, and she’d turned out to be a snake in human form. Even worse, he’d wanted her. If truth be told, he kept on wanting her, in spite of everything he now knew. What did that say about his powers of judgment?
He gave a last wave to the people lined up on the quay and realized that he’d miss Askaval. Bill, Jock and Johnny had protested at his going. Gus had, as expected, insisted that Dougal couldn’t sail away on Christmas Eve, especially with squalls in the offing. The servants in the house had come down to farewell him, and so had the other islanders he’d met during his short stay here.
He hadn’t realized quite what a place he’d found for himself on this isolated island. It shouldn’t feel like he was leaving home forever. After all, he’d only been on Askaval a few days. But, by God, it did.