Page 73 of Kilted Hate

“The only thing I ken fer sure is that I never want tae lay eyes on ye again.”

Did he really know that?

No, not at all. He loved her. But what did that matter now? She clearly did not love him in return. He would have to deal with that loss later, when the rage had subsided. For now, sending her away was the only way he could cope. His heart was breaking into a thousand pieces, but the anger inside would keep him from being destroyed completely.

Katherine brought her hand swiftly to her mouth as a sob escaped from her throat. But all the tears in the world could not save her now. She had deceived him enough. He wasn’t going to fall for her attempt to manipulate him a moment longer. He had already proved himself to be the biggest fool for falling for her act. Now he knew the truth, his walls were back in place, and he would make certain no other could ever break through them again.

“My scouts have discovered that yer braither is on the Isle o’ Skye. I wouldnae have believed it if I hadnae seen it with me own eyes,” he shook the letter again, “but it is evident now, that, thanks tae the information ye have been feeding him, he was able tae attack me on nae one, but two occasions.”

“I didn’t feed him any information,” Katherine whispered.

“Dinnae lie tae me,” he bellowed. “I am nae a fool. Ye were there, Katherine. The only way yer braither could possibly have kent that I was in the village on that day was by yer word.”

“No!” Katherine said, shaking her head determinedly.

But Domhnall only shook his head slowly, and heaved a frustrated sigh. There was little point arguing with her. He couldn’t reason with someone who could not take responsibility for their actions, even when they had been so obviously found out.

“I dinnae want tae start a war,” he growled. “I will leave ye and yer braither unharmed on the condition that ye leave this island and never return.”

“What about the wedding?” Katherine breathed.

“There will be nay wedding. Nae now, nae ever.”

“But, the king,” she cried.

His eyes narrowed as he stared at her. “Ye are clearly more dismayed at disappointing the tyrant who rules yer country than ye are about disappointing me, but then, that should come as nay surprise, should it?”

“Domhnall, that’s not true. I?—”

“Please, Katherine,” he barked.

Domhnall then took a deep breath in, and using every ounce of strength he had left, he pushed down all the feelings that threatened to overtake him.

Speaking in a far calmer voice, he continued. “Please, stop. It’s over. It’s all over. I will send word tae the king mesel’ and tell him that I hold all responsibility fer ruining the alliance.”

“But you can’t,” she gasped. “He’ll turn on you.”

“Which will be me problem tae deal with, nae yers. There is only one thing ye can dae fer me now, Katherine, and that is tae leave this castle, leave this island, and dinnae let me see yer face again. Ye need tae go.”

Domhnall did not join the rest of the family in the great hall for supper. No doubt, news had already spread throughout the castle, for Katherine had hurriedly left not an hour after he had demanded her departure. The last thing he felt like doing was facing questions from his brothers and sisters. They would find out the details of what had happened soon enough.

Instead, he hid himself away in his study, his only companion a bottle of whisky that sat beside him on a table as he stared into the fire. His mind was a whirl of thoughts as he played back the times he and Katherine had spent together. Even though he had found the correspondence between herself and her brother, he still could hardly believe they had not been true, meaningful, real.

But how could they have been? Clearly, she had played her part from the moment she had arrived. From pretending to be angry that she was there to slowly slipping into his life, and then, hisheart. Not once had he suspected that it had all been a front to get information for her brother. Not once had he imagined she could betray him so brutally.

An hour or so later, when he had slipped into some trance-like stupor of despair, the ache in his heart so heavy it was nearly unbearable, Magnus sat down beside him, making him jump at his sudden presence.

“I did knock,” Magnus defended.

“Right. Right,” he said, still bringing himself back to the present moment.

Magnus poured himself the last dram from the bottle on the table. With the empty bottle in hand, he said, “It looks like we’re going tae need another o’ these.”

“Aye,” Domhnall said absently.

“So, are ye going tae?—”

A knock on the study door interrupted him, but Domhnall didn’t speak. Instead, Magnus called out for whomever it was to enter.

---