“Ye need to get out of that wet dress.”
I stared into the fire, and standing on shaky legs made my way toward the heat.
“Verranica.”
My teeth clicked together uncontrollably, making words impossible. When I failed to answer, Jamie turned me by the shoulders to face him. His jaw clenched and his brows scrunched over his eyes.
“I’ll be back.” He let go of me, and I swayed but managed to stay on my feet. My brain felt like it was shutting down. Maybe I was in shock.
Jamie returned with a pile of clothing. “Can ye change or do I need to undress you myself?” Despite the 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.”