The Cast Of A Stone
Page 38
“Have you found it, Finn?”
“Not yet.”
He stepped into the moonlight, his skin glowing and eyes afire.
Emma's voice wavered. “Why does it elude you?”
“Because I ignored my heart and wronged someone I love.” He looked off in the direction Alex had taken. “At the time of their greatest need, I betrayed their trust. It troubles me immeasurably.”
She followed his gaze, a twinge of pain twisting beneath her ribs. “My father bears you no grudge. You know that.”
“Aye, but I'm not talking about your father.” Finn turned back to her, his expression taut with anguish. “I was crippled by my beliefs, Emma. Bound by them. They held me captive and I couldn't free myself, even though my heart demanded release. I heard your cry for help and ignored it. I failed you and went back on my word. I deserve nothing less than your anger and scorn, but I desire your forgiveness.”
He touched her cheek. “Why do you weep, little one? What compels these tears of yours? Are they for your father, or for me? Please say they're for me. Say you still care for a foolish Irish knight. Lie, if you must. Please, mo chailín, tell me I haven't lost your respect, that you might one day trust me again, and –”
“Stop.” Emma wrapped her fingers around his. “My tears are compelled by happiness, Finn. Keir told me you were conflicted, explained how you suffered. I was afraid too - afraid I'd lost your friendship, something I value very much. Of course I forgive you, willingly and with my whole heart. Truth is, I can't tell you how pleased I am to see you.”
He exhaled and kissed the back of her hand. “Pie Jesú. I cannot tell you how pleased I am to hear it, my lady.”
“We must put the past aside.” She gestured down the path. “As I hope my father will do after this night. Will you wait with me? Until he returns?”
“Of course.” He tapped a finger to his temple. “Francis told me you'd be alone out here. I know I have to prove it to you, but I renew my vow to be at your side whenever you have need of me.”
“Then I'm blessed, my lord,” she said, looping her arm through his. “So, now we're friends again, will you please come to the wedding? We're to be married a week tomorrow at the local church. I know Stephen will want you there, and I certainly do.”
Finn scratched his head. “Well, now, that all depends.”
Emma frowned. “On what?”
“On how refined a celebration it will be.”
“How refined?” She shook her head. “I don't understand.”
“Ach, mo chailín. The cold night air is numbing your brain. I shall attend your marriage to Lord Stephen De Montfort under one condition.”
“Which is?”
“That you promise me a full night of drinking and fighting.”
Beneath a canopy of stars, the Cumberland forest echoed with laughter.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The oak was a tangled silhouette against the sky, its naked branches laden with a fine coat of moonlit frost. Alex paused at the edge of the clearing, his eyes scanning the perimeter. Nothing moved, yet something intangible infused the cold air and tingled on his skin. More from habit than readiness, he fingered the hilt of his sword and approached the ancient tree.
He looked down at the broken pieces of granite lying among the twisted roots, a testament to the tree's victorious struggle to survive. Then he lifted his eyes to the heavens and eternity.
“What now, Emma?” he murmured.
A whisper brushed against his ear. “Alexander.”
Dear God. Did he dream? Had a wandering spell cast itself upon him? This was, after all, a magical place, a place of spirits. Maybe he'd imagined it. Maybe it was only a wisp of wind through the trees.
He held his breath.
“Alexander. Turn around.”
He must have died, he thought. How else would he hear the precious voice of a departed soul speaking so softly in the night? But could a dead man weep? If not, then why were his cheeks warm with tears? And could a dead man still feel the beat of a lifeless heart? Surely not. Yet he felt a solid thud against his ribs. He looked at his hands and clenched his fingers, seeking proof of his awareness, of his essence. As if to reassure him, the stone at his side trembled within its silver chamber. Bewildered, he turned toward the sound of the voice, not yet trusting his senses.
A sound escaped from deep inside him, a cry of disbelief and anguish. Sixteen years vanished, gone in an instant, absorbed by the beauty of her face and the love in her eyes. Her entire form was opaque, shimmering like moonlight on water. But there was no doubt.
None at all.
“Alicia.” Afraid she was just an illusion, he traced his fingers along the ghostly line of her cheek. His skin tingled. “Ach, Alicia. I've missed you, lass. So much.”
Aye, the dead did cry, for he saw the glimmer of tears in her emerald eyes.
“I've missed you too, my love.” The sound of her voice was like music to him.
“But...how can this be? What is this miracle?”
She smiled. “A miracle among miracles, prompted by a recent visit from our precious child. Oh, Alex, such a wonder she is. I knew you would teach her well and raise her to be strong and pure of heart. You didn't fail me.”
Alex shook his head, his chest heaving with a sob. “Oh, but I did. I did fail you, and in the worst way. I doubted you, called you a whore. A whore! You, my wife, whom I loved above all others, and love still. It sickens me to think of what I did. May God forgive me, I killed Edward for naught and you died because of me. Aye, may God forgive me, for I can never forgive myself.”
“Hush, Alex. You must not hold blame for any of it.” Her light faltered and faded for a moment before glowing bright again. Alex gasped and reached for her.
“Nay, don't go,” he said, his heart clenching in panic. “Please. Not yet.”
“'Tis the spirit world which pulls me. I don't have much time, so you must listen and believe. I bear you no ill, nor does Edward. I need you to forgive yourself, for the sake of my soul and yours. I need you to let go of your guilt.” A ghostly tear fell as she caressed his cheek. “My beloved husband, I've waited so long for this night. My spirit could never reach you before. Your mind was closed, your heart filled with anger. I could do nothing until you believed the miracle of Emma's conception and accepted the truth.”
“I do accept it.” Alex sighed. “I confess I knew it all along, but it was easy to deny a memory I never possessed.”
She studied him for a moment. “Close your eyes, Alexander.”
“Nay. I want to look at you.”
“Trust me. Close them, my love.”
It was her farewell gift. He watched the years fall away, turning back like the pages in a book. She gave him her memories of that miraculous night. How could he ever have forgotten? He'd soothed her despair, kissed away her tears and tasted the sweetness of her skin. They had shared a love without boundaries, unhindered by time or distance. His body had joined with hers, each of them needing and wanting. And a child had been conceived. A miracle child.
An unshed tear escaped through his lashes and rolled down his cheek.
“Now you will always remember,” she said, her voice fading into eternity. “I love you. Go in peace, Alexander.”
He opened his eyes.
The shadows shifted and a shaft of moonlight tumbled through the branches to land on a piece of shattered boulder. Alex nodded, understanding. At last he was free to move on without the burden of remorse and regret.
Aye, little one. There is, indeed, magic at work in the forest tonight.
“Thank you, a ghràidh,” he whispered, and looked up at the stars.
A warm surge of energy leapt from the stone and wrapped around his heart.
It was time to go home.
THE END
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