He falls in line with me, the way I knew he would, being surrounded by all these people. He chivalrously accepts my hand and a kiss to his cheek.
“What are you doing here?” he questions, with only a mild bite to his tone, but his face is cordial.
“Now, you know charities are dear to me,” I tease in mockery with a giggle. “I’d like to make my time in Scotland meaningful.”
“And how long is that? Don’t you have to get back to the States soon?”
Leaning in closer to him so not everyone can hear, I say, “No. At the moment, time is a little futile, if you know what I mean.” I then turn to his date, remarking to him while my eyes are fixed on the woman, “Declan, she’s stunning.”
My words, and the manner in which they are delivered, make her uncomfortable. She fidgets and responds, “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Davina.”
“It’s a pleasure.”
“And you are?”
“An old acquaintance,” Declan interrupts, answering for me, and I giggle, adding, “Well, that’s putting it modestly.”
I can see the tension when he bites his jaw down, so I quickly make my request publically, “I was hoping I could steal you away for a couple minutes. There’s something I’d like to talk to you about . . . privately.”
“This probably isn’t the best time.”
“It’s okay,” Davina tells him with a pleasant smile. “I need to go visit with Beatrice anyway.”
Smiling up at Declan, I boast, “Perfect!”
His smile is tight as he walks past me with no eye contact. “Follow me.”
I do, keeping up with his quick stride, but when I see he’s making his way outside and away from all these people, I grab on to his arm and tug back. “Here is fine.”
“I thought you said you wanted privacy.”
“This is private enough.” I need the crowd to ensure he keeps his emotions in check.
He narrows his eyes and sneers angrily under his breath, “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I needed to see you, to talk to you, and this was the only way I could get you to listen without you losing your shit on me.”
Keeping his voice low, his tone is harsh when he says, “What do you want to say to me, huh? I’m sorry? It’s not what you think? Forgive me? Well, fuck you because there isn’t anything I want to hear coming out of your mouth.”
“If you’ll just let me say my piece, I’ll go. If that’s what you want, I’ll leave—disappear from your life, and you’ll never have to think of me again.”
Declan grabs my elbow and pulls me closer to him. His face is so close to mine, I can feel the heat of his blood pulsing through his veins. “You think it’s that easy? You think I can just shut you out and never think about you again—the woman who deceived me to the point that I . . . ” he pauses for a second to make sure no one is close enough to hear his next words, “ . . . took a man’s life? I’ll never be able to get rid of you because you’re now the demon than lives inside me.”
Words slaughter deeply.
The urge to drop to my knees and beg at his feet to forgive me surges through my body. I did this to him. It was me, and the weight of that responsibility is making it near impossible to stay above ground. It’s sinking me down to a hell I’m terrified to face.
“Tell me what I can do,” I plead. “Because I’d do anything for you, to take any piece of this away from you.”
“It’s done with. It happened and nothing will take that away, but you . . . continuing to pop up . . . you’re just twisting the knife you’ve put in my back.”
“Let me attempt to take it out then.”
“That was a lovely speech,” an older lady compliments as she walks past us.
Declan quickly thanks her and then turns back to me. “You need to leave.”
“No.”
“God, you’re stubborn.”
“Declan, no. I want to explain.”
“Not here.”
“Then where?”
“Tomorrow,” he suggests. “You want to talk privately? Fine, I’ll give you that. Come to my house, say whatever it is you need to say, and then leave.”
“Okay,” I respond with a nod.
“I mean it. You leave Scotland. Go back home.”
I continue to nod in agreement with his words, and confirm, “Tomorrow then?”
His jaw clenches. “Yes. And now I want you to excuse yourself from this party.”
And I do. Getting what I wanted, I smile, but it doesn’t feel entirely victorious for obvious reasons. Retrieving my pashmina and clutch, I say my goodbye to Lachlan and thank him for accompanying me as my escort. He offers to drive me back to the hotel, but I politely decline and accept his flirtatious kiss to my hand before he opens the car door for me.
“It was a pleasure, Elizabeth. I hope to see you around,” he tells me, and I return the gesture, saying, “I hope so too.”
“WHAT WERE YOU doing with that woman?” I ask when Lachlan approaches me at the bar. “How do you know her?”
“I don’t. She was alone, and I offered to escort her. Why?”
Taking a hard shot of my Scotch, I bite against the burn. “I want you to follow her.”
“Who is she?”
“Just follow her. I want to know what she’s spending her days doing.”