"Aye, love," she said. "I love ye. I think if your head wasnae so full of romantic nonsense, ye could love me back."
Her tactless description of his quest made his jaw tighten in resentment, but he didn’t go back to being angry. "And I’d marry ye, and we’d set up home as happy as could be on Askaval for the rest of our days?"
Dougal’s sarcasm stabbed at her, although she wasn’t fool enough to expect her declaration to elicit a similar declaration from him. "Why no’? It would be a good life."
"I’ve only known ye for a few days."
Her voice hardened as she fumbled to hold onto a rope. "Love at first sight is possible. It’s no’ so different from what ye think will happen if you ever find Fair Ellen. You imagine you’re Perseus, and she’s Andromeda, and the two of ye will fall in love the second you’ve killed the dragon and unchained her from her rock."
It was his turn to look uncomfortable. "She suffers a huge injustice, and any man of principle…"
"If she was just Ellen of the Isles or even worse, Ugly Ellen of the Isles, ye would never have budged a foot from Bruard Castle to release her from captivity."
"Maybe," he admitted with a reluctance she could hear. "But that’s nae excuse for what you’ve done."
Which she finally admitted with bitter honesty was true. She had no say in what Dougal Drummond did. She was nothing to him. Not even a friend, thanks to her scheming. Her heart felt like a stone in her chest.
"No, it doesnae," she said in a ghost of a tone. Her admission surprised him, silenced him briefly, as if he’d been preparing for another argument.
"I’m going at first light."
Kirsty couldn’t help it. She started to cry again, even as her anger surged anew. Anger and frustration, although neither would do her any good. "And you’ll leave hating me."
He shook his head. "I dinnae hate ye."
As she stared into that chiseled, implacable face, she recognized it would be better for her if he did hate her. Because hatred wasn’t the opposite of love, indifference was. And she could see that once he left Askaval, he’d never think of her again.
But it wasn’t in her nature to give up. "Do ye no’ care for me at all?"
Tears edged the pathetic question, but she was too wretched to blush at the picture she made. As the boat rocked, she fought to keep her feet.
That flickering muscle kept dancing in his lean cheek. "Kirsty…"
She shook her head as despair froze her blood. "Ye dinnae."
Dougal spread his hands. "After what you’ve done…"
She straightened, while tears poured unheeded down her face. "Ye dinnae even see me. All ye can see is some fantasy in your mind."
"Fair Ellen isnae…"
"Isnae here," she burst out. "She isnae here, Dougal. And I’m right under your noble nose. Yet ye willnae even look at me."
The light of the erratically swinging lantern revealed his flush. For the first time, he avoided her eyes. "I looked."
About to burst into a tirade about his imbecilic stubbornness, she stopped. "Ye…looked?"
He stepped back, then had to stop before he tumbled into the water. "Aye, you’re a bonny girl. I’m no’ bloody blind."
She took no joy in the compliment. He made it sound like an insult. "I didnae know."
"Well, damn it, ye should have. At least when I kissed you."
Kirsty should find some satisfaction in hearing him admit that he’d kissed her, but again she found no comfort in the confession. He sounded like he hated himself.
&
nbsp; "Is it so bad that ye looked at me?" she asked in a shaking voice and raised his handkerchief to dash the tears from her eyes.