He would have rolled his eyes at her attempts if he weren’t so damn irritated with Edana.
Senara was in the village. By the time he got word to her, it would already be evening, and he needed to leave within the hour.
He hissed out a sigh of frustration. It was a two and a half day ride to Dalmunzie Castle, if the weather held. He could make it two if he pushed hard. “Tell her I’ve had an urgent matter arise and will be back within a week.”
Anice nodded and gave him a deep curtsey with a purposeful view. “Aye, laird.”
Though he’d left a message for her, Gavin departed for Dalmunzie with a cloud of uncertainty looming over him. He didn’t like having left without speaking to Senara. He liked even less leaving her alone with Edana.
If Balthasar was, indeed, a real and true spirit, Gavin prayed he would keep Senara safe.
Chapter Nine
Gavin had not come home the prior evening.
And Edana had returned.
Senara woke with a hollow ache in her chest. Edana had avoided Senara all evening, but now she would get answers.
She put on her most regal dress, the one made of deep blue velvet and trimmed in the softest white fur she’d ever run her fingers over. Gavin had smiled when the tailor brought it. He had declared it made her eyes look like emeralds. The memory brought a pleasant warmth to Senara’s cheeks.
While she loved the feel of the fine fabric on her skin, she still had not become used to wearing such finery and still felt as though she were a girl again playing in Ma’s old clothing.
Senara found Edana in the great hall and tried to ignore the swirling unease in her stomach.
Edana’s brow lifted with incredulity at Senara’s approach. “I see ye took no time to dress the part of a lady.”
Her comment made the foreign feel of the clothing all the more uncomfortable. Senara kept her posture straight, in the same calm, measured way Ma did when she’d been affronted.
She stood beside Edana’s chair, but did not sit herself. “As is fitting my station.”
Edana snorted. “Ye have no station. And ye willna either.”
“Ye are mistaken—”
“Nay, it is ye who are mistaken.” Edana regarded her with a cold look in her dark eyes. “Do ye know where the laird is?”
This question left Senara mute.
“Ach, he dinna tell ye?” Edana pressed a hand to her chest in a play of horror.
Senara curled her hand at her side. The memory was still fresh on the satisfaction of landing a blow on the cruel woman.
Anice strolled into the room with her hips swinging and her hands laden with a tray full of food. She nodded to Senara. “Morning, my lady. Do ye need anything?”
She set the trencher in front of Edana. Near a floury disk of bannocks was a pile of sausage sitting in a puddle of grease.
Senara’s stomach churned and her mouth began to sweat with the need to vomit.
“Ye’re looking quite ill this morning,” Edana said. Her knife cut through the sausage with a soft pop and a line of clear grease oozed from the slit.
Senara swallowed hard and let her nails nip into her palms to keep her composure. In an effort to save herself, she wrenched her gaze from the plate of food and regarded Anice. “Have ye heard from the laird?”
Anice shook her head. “I only know he left with haste.”
“Ah, now that I can answer for ye.” Edana pulled the slice of sausage from the blade with her flat teeth. “He finally received the agreement to wed Colina MacKintosh.”
It was a trick. Some sort of mean trick, and Senara did not believe it.
She lifted her brow in the same manner as Edana often did. “He is marrying me. The banns—”
“Have no’ been completed.” Edana smirked. “And ye’re pregnant. What will ye do with the babe when ye dinna even have parents to return home to?”
This time Senara’s composure did falter. Edana’s chin notched upward with her victory. “Do ye think Anice wouldna report to me that ye’d no’ asked for yer monthly rags?” She indicated Senara with the point of her eating knife. “Look at ye, practically green at the appearance of food. Dinna tell me ye dinna know or I’ll think ye an even greater fool.”
Senara had suspected the pregnancy, in truth, but had wanted absolute certainty before telling Gavin. Her courses were late by only a week. While uncommon for her, she had wanted to wait a bit longer. Just in case.
She looked to Anice, who watched her with a pleasant little smile on her red lips. “Anice?”
The servant flung her red braid over her shoulder. “I guess knowing yer letters doesna make ye better than the rest of us after all.”
Senara opened her mouth to protest, but Anice was already sauntering from the room.
Edana rose from the table and lifted that damn eyebrow. “Ye should leave. Ye and yer babe are unwanted, especially when my nephew returns with his new wife.”
Senara met Edana’s gaze with all the determination and strength she could muster. “Then he can tell me himself when he arrives.”
Edana gave a little shrug and strolled away, as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
Time would tell, however long that might be, if Gavin had been true to Senara. She could not imagine him leaving her so abruptly to wed another woman. An edge of doubt slipped into her mind.
Colina MacKintosh.
The lass could do far more for Clan MacDuff than Senara. Colina could bring peace and wealth. Senara brought only a sword, a loyal, loving horse, and an unborn babe.
Gavin would have to truly be in love to choose Senara over the wealthy laird’s daughter.
And, selfishly, Senara hoped with all of her battered heart he was.
*
Dalmunzie was as impressive as always.
Not only was the massive structure immaculate and the clan well-dressed and plentiful through its halls, everything glittered with wealth. Cloth of gold and silver winked from the costly tapestries and fine clothing.
Laird MacKintosh sat in a large carved chair, his back straight and proud. Gray seasoned his long, black hair and beard. “I dinna expect to see ye again so soon.”
Gavin smirked. “I dinna expect to be back again so soon. It would appear my aunt is up to her tricks once more.”
Laird MacKintosh narrowed his pale blue eyes. “Ye dinna send her to speak with me.” His gaze slid to his daughter, who sat at his right. Her blonde hair had been left loose around her face and her head bowed forward. It was not enough to hide the red rim around her eyes, nor the pink tint to her nose. No matter how she’d tried to mask it, she’d obviously been crying.
The unspoken statement lingered in the air.
Gavin didn’t want to marry his daughter.
A slap in the face to the laird and an affront to his daughter.
“I dinna send her,” Gavin confirmed. “She knew how long I’d had my eye set on Colina.” He nodded toward her, and she craned her head farther forward. “I suppose Edana thought she could do what I couldna. And it would appear she did. What did she offer ye to make ye change yer mind?”
Laird MacKintosh leaned forward in his seat. The wood issued forth a long, deep groan beneath the man’s impressive weight. “A body.”
Gavin inclined his head.
“Do ye know why our clans have been fighting for years?” MacKintosh asked.
Of course Gavin knew. “We killed one of the healers ye sent to help during the plague when it consumed Castle of Park.”
MacKintosh nodded. “Aye, a monk named Balthasar. He was a MacKintosh, a lad my da played with when he was young. He became a monk at a priory no’ far from here.” He lifted his hands, as if to show his inability to understand such a profession. “Balthasar put himself at great risk to aid yer people. But he dinna return and, over time, we found out what happened. He’d been seduced by a woman and slain for his crimes.”
MacKintosh’s hands curled around the chair and his frown deepened. “My da was destroyed
by this news and disgusted with the MacDuffs. We dinna know who seduced Balthasar, but we do know it was yer grandfather who saw him dead. We were refused his corpse, stating he’d been a plague victim. We knew better.”
Gavin set his jaw. “I know the woman ye speak of.” He smirked. “My verra aunt, Edana.”
MacKintosh’s jaw twitched under his great beard. “She’s some nerve. She promised me Balthasar’s body, so he could be laid to rest, as my da made me vow to do.”
Das and their damn dying wishes. Gavin vowed if he ever had a son to never leave him with a promise that would haunt him.
“I’ll bring ye the body,” Gavin said with a nod. “But I canna wed yer daughter.”
Colina’s head snapped up and she stared at him with wide blue eyes. MacKintosh’s brow furrowed. “Ye dinna want my daughter?”
“I did, laird, for some time,” Gavin said. “When ye declined my offer, I found another. The banns will have been fully announced by the time I return.”
Colina grasped her father’s forearm and stared imploringly up at him. He cast her a soft look, one which only a daughter could elicit from a man as strong as MacKintosh. A smile showed under his beard. “My daughter is in love with another as well. And has my permission to marry the man.”
Colina gave a soft gasp. At her father’s nod, she rose from her seat and raced from the room, her face alight with her joy.
MacKintosh followed her with his eyes until she was gone. He turned his attention back to Gavin, the tenderness and soft smile gone. “Bring me Balthasar and we will have peace.”
Gavin strode forward and clasped his arm with MacKintosh’s. “Ye have my word.”
“I look forward to finally securing a truce with ye.” MacKintosh got to his feet. “Ye’re welcome to stay as long as ye like.”
“I thank ye for the offer,” Gavin said. “But I’ve a lass to wed when I return home.”
MacKintosh gave a deep rumble of a chuckle. “Then go home, lad. A woman is no’ one to keep waiting.”
Gavin was all too eager to comply and left within the hour to return back to Castle of Park.
Back to Senara.
Chapter Ten
Senara was in her small room on the top floor when she first heard the sound.
Her heart began to slam in her chest before she even understood what met her ears.
The clop of horse hooves.
Gavin was home.
She turned abruptly and threw open the shutters to the window. The chill of early spring air rushed against her cheeks, a coolness she welcomed against the sudden heat spreading over her face. Still, she tucked her cloak around her body, if nothing else to keep her child within protected.
Perhaps it was a silly notion, but she enjoyed the maternal endearment.
Her gaze searched through the surrounding trees, but she caught neither sight of Gavin nor Lindir, his strong black destrier.
Please be alone.
Of course, him being alone did not mean a betrothal with Colina MacKintosh had not been established.
The sound grew louder and her heart raced so quickly, her lips tingled.
Please be alone.
There. In flashes between the tangles of tree branches.
Lindir with Gavin atop him.
And he was alone.
Senara’s knees went weak beneath the force of her relief. Hopefully, this would mean he chose her.
“He is alone.” The voice echoing Senara’s observation sent a fresh wave of tension tightening along the back of her neck.
She spun around to see Edana standing in the doorway, her shoulders slumped and her gray and black hair hanging limp around her face. The wrinkles she’d once fought so hard to smooth now crinkled into an expression of puckered rage.
“Ye should have left.” Her breathing came ragged.
A warning scraped down Senara’s spine.
Her hands curled protectively around her lower stomach, the life there so new it had barely swollen her abdomen with evidence of its fragile existence. “I could never leave.” She swallowed down the metallic bite of fear on her tongue. “I love him.”
“Then ye’ll die a fool.” Edana was still stalking toward her, a confident glare in her eye. Her hand fisted in the green velvet of her skirt, where the fabric was hopelessly crushed beyond ruin at her obvious anxiety.
Senara moved her hand for her dagger but remembered she’d taken it off only moments ago to change into the evening dress she wore. The sword her father had given her lay tucked carefully into the straw of the mattress. Out of reach.
“Lady Edana, what are ye doing?” Asking the question would simply buy Senara time, but time might be enough to save her. Already, Lindir’s hooves were clattering noisily on the courtyard below.
A wide smile lit Edana’s eyes and drew jagged shadows over her face so she resembled little more than a grinning skull. “I’m stopping a wedding.”
She flew forward, her hands clawed to rend more than air.
Senara couldn’t move away from where she stood between the two small beds. There would be nothing for it but to defend herself.
She waited until Edana was within striking distance, then bent over and threw her weight against Edana’s waist. Senara shot up quickly, intending to throw the other woman to one of the beds, but Edana twisted at the last moment and flew behind her.
Senara’s body jerked backward, hard. Toward the window.
She spun around to find Edana dangling from the window, her hands clenched around Senara’s cloak. A soft cracking sounded far below where the vase of dried heather fell to the courtyard stones and scattered into a million pieces.
The weight of the old woman pulled hard against Senara, threatening to drag her over the edge as well. Far, far below Edana’s swinging legs were the sprawling expanse of the cobblestoned courtyard and the ruined vase and flowers. Four stories below.
Certain death to any who fell.
A gust of ice-cold wind flew at Senara’s back from the hallway door behind her and blew her cloak around her in great billowing folds. Edana screamed and tried fruitlessly to pull herself up.
Chills rose over Senara’s flesh in a reaction she was far too familiar with.
Balthasar.
And then he appeared beside her. It wasn’t the slow fade of his previous visits or the cast of his glowing eyes showing with more precision than did the rest of him. Nay, he appeared as if he were a man of true flesh and blood.
Edana’s eyes widened and she gave a sharp intake of breath.
Senara’s heart leapt and a soft, unintelligible cry emerged from her throat.
Balthasar’s eyes glowed with more rage, more vengeance than she’d ever seen. Prickles of fear raced over her skin, scraping over her like the cold edge of a blade.
He reached for her neck and something clicked at her throat.
The weight of Edana pulling at Senara’s cloak went slack and the old woman fell back into nothing with the cloak still clutched in her grasp. The clasp, which had been unfastened, flapped uselessly with the speed of her fall.
She screamed Balthasar’s name the entire way down, the cry so shrill, so haunting, Senara knew she would never stop hearing it for the rest of her life.
Balthasar looked directly into Senara’s eyes. The glow was gone from his stare and replaced by something kind and soft.
A sense of peace washed over her, bathing her in a calm which slowed her heart and brought a gentle warmth to her soul. He bowed his head in reverence and disappeared from view.
“Senara?”
She spun around to see Gavin racing through the doorway toward her. Her heart didn’t slam with uncertainty, not with the fierce note of desperation gleaming in his eyes.
“Are ye all right?” Concern narrowed his tender gaze.
She nodded, unable to speak for the tightness in her throat.
He stared toward the window, the color of his face somewhat diminished. “Was that him?”
“Aye,” Senara
whispered. “That was Balthasar, but I dinna think we’ll be seeing him again.” The certainty of her words filled her with the same tangible emotion as did the peace he’d given her soul. “He has been avenged.”
*
Gavin clutched Senara in his arms as if he might lose her, for surely he almost had.
He’d arrived at Castle of Park just as Edana had dangled through the window. When he’d seen Senara leaning forward under the burden of his aunt, his heart had lodged itself in his throat.
In all the years he’d taken the stairs at Castle of Park, never had he cleared all four floors with such haste.
Shouts of alarm rose up from below the window where the servants were rushing to Edana’s aid. He hadn’t seen her fall, yet knew there would be no saving her. He had lived up to his father’s wish and protected her as best he could. She was the cause of his absence and, in the end, she was the cause of her own demise.
And in death, he would still see her protected, with a proper burial in consecrated ground.
The image of the monk with dark hair and gray eyes came into Gavin’s mind, as did the way he faded from view as if dissolving into the very air around them.
“He saved ye,” Gavin said. Relief tickled his chest where tension had gripped him only seconds before.
He’d almost lost her.
His beautiful Senara, who enriched his life with her confident joy. He reveled in the warmth of her body against his, the sweet sunshine scent of her hair, grateful to be touching her once more.
“Balthasar saved us both.” Senara answered with such unusual hesitation, he pulled back slightly to stare down at her, to ensure she had not been injured.
Her hands, he noticed, were folded over her stomach.
Alarm burned through him. “Ye’re hurt.”
She regarded him with a concerned expression furrowing her brow. “I’m with child.”
Gavin stared like a daft man at the woman who had already brought such wonder to his life. But a child – an heir. The one thing he needed to ensure the king would never have his land or his people.
A Ghostly Tale of Forbidden Love (Highland Passions Book 1) Page 7
